A Love out of Time Ch. 04

"What about her?" Cynara asked Ashton, who was standing next to her in the crowded ballroom. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and had an air of brisk unaffectedness about him. Next to him, Cynara was the complete opposite, all her emotions showing on her face, her eyes quite obviously surveying everyone in the room, lingering a bit to long and with too much blatant appraisal over the spattering of pretty girls in the room.

"That is Miss Mary Turner," Ashton said without even a pause. Though Finley was probably the most proper member of the Stanmore family, which would normally make him the most socially acceptable, Ashton was the one who was deemed by society to be the unfortunate brother who could have really been a gentleman if not for his awful relations. Ashton had the sort of social flair that attracted people despite his family's reputation, and he was often engaged in society. Though he participated with ease, he didn't care about any of it. He would stick up for his brothers above his own reputation and place in society. He could lose all social standing, devastation to anyone else in his position, and be perfectly fine with it. Cynara liked him for this.

"She was a guest at a dinner party I also attended one evening, though I can't remember whose. She seemed nice enough, a bit bland, but then again, we are looking for someone for Finley," Ashton gave his brief account of the girl as he had been doing for a variety of different females for the past fifteen minutes.

"Do you think she would like Finley?" Cynara asked. The girl was rather pretty with dark eyes and hair, slender shoulders and an elegantly tall body.

"I happen to know that she is the eldest of five daughters, and her mother has been making perfectly clear that she is very eligible. She would not bring much dowry to a marriage, due to her father having to split it up, so I think the family would be very happy with her attachment to any one of the Stanmores, especially the eldest and richest of us." Ashton explained before he noticed Cynara scowling at him.

"I hate it when you talk that way," she complained, "As if marriage were a business transaction. Marriage is supposed to be between people who love each other."

Ashton looked at her curiously, "I am convinced, Cynara, that the place you come from doesn't really exist. It is too perfect to be true. I..." but he trailed off for a moment.

"What?" Cynara prompted him, "What do you mean by that?" and now she was painfully intrigued. Ashton always presented an easy, comfortable companionship, but this new side of himself, it was something that Cynara had never seen before. Worry, written across Ashton's brow was so foreign it was like seeing palm tree growing in the tundra.

"You act as though you could do anything you wanted. You could be yourself, and people wouldn't hate you. You don't believe that women are inferior to men and have never been treated that way, I can tell by the way you act. You judge people based on themselves, not their social standing or their wealth. You're so foreign, but not as though from a different country. I can't explain it." Ashton looked pensive and entirely inside himself.

If you only knew...Cynara thought to herself. She felt as though she were seeing a side of Ashton that few people got to see, and she didn't know what to say.

"The way you speak of marriage, as though it should be for love and all other things don't matter," Ashton looked at her intently, "Was that the way it was where you came from?"

"Not all the time. Some people married for money, but not like it is here." Cynara knew that she was running a risk by talking about the future to Ashton, who didn't know her secret and couldn't possibly understand, but she was tempted. Ashton had shared something of himself with her, and now she wanted to share something with him.

And not only that, as much as she loved this world, there were things she just couldn't accept about it because that had not been the way she was raised. There were things she missed about her old home, and she couldn't resist the urge to talk about it and remember. "You could marry without your parents permission," she added, "It happens all the time. And no one would think it was unacceptable for a woman to propose to a man. No one would think it was unacceptable for an unmarried couple to live together."

Ashton looked at her incredulously, and not without a bit of discomfort. "Surely that isn't true?"

Cynara only nodded. "It isn't like there aren't any morals," Cynara added, "And there are always going to be people who judge and criticize you, but you don't have to associate with those people. You can always go someplace to find people who will accept you."

Ashton was looking at her intensely, and his mouth was perched open and Cynara could just tell something important was about to come out, but just then, Katherine and Wesley came up to them having just finished a dance. Ashton composed himself again quickly, and Katherine and Wesley appeared to be oblivious to his momentary discomfiture.

"What were you talking about?" Katherine asked, "Any prospects?" she looked at Cynara significantly.

Cynara didn't want to let it slip that they had been talking about something else when they interrupted, so she quickly said, "Mary Turner. Ashton seems to think that she is the best prospect, and she is pretty."

"Which one is she?" Katherine asked eagerly, stretching her neck out and looking over the crowded ballroom. Cynara gestured to the girl who was speaking to an older, hefty woman with a strong, broad face.

"She doesn't look like anything special," Katherine shrugged, "But I suppose if Ashton thinks that she will be compatible with Finley...What shall we do now, Cynara?" she asked eagerly, grasping the other girl's hand affectionately.

Wes had been appraising the dark haired girl as well, "Nothing special?" he asked incredulously to Katherine. "She's very beautiful."

Katherine shot a quick look at him before turning her gaze back to Mary Turner, her eyes narrowing, "She's far to tall," she declared abruptly, "And her face is scrunchy. She's perfectly adequate, but never beautiful."

"I think she is beautiful," Cynara put in, and Katherine looked suddenly pained to have disagreed with the girl she so admired.

"Well, are we just going to stand her talking about her all night or are we going to put our plan into action?" he asked, looking at Cynara.

"Let's go talk to her," she said to Ashton, "You can introduce me. Why don't you two dance again?" she said suggestively to Katherine and Wes just as Katherine was about to follow Cynara, "How are old Wesley's dancing skills?" she asked Katherine, preparing to leave.

"Awful," Katherine pouted, and Cynara only laughed as she was escorted away by Ashton.

"I'm not that bad," Wes said happily, "I only stepped on your toes two or three times, though I did almost take out that bloke with the moustache." Katherine laughed despite herself. She might have felt badly about being rude to him, but she had never met anyone who took an insult more happily and heartily in her life, and now she found it quite fun to tease him. It was much easier to talk to someone who wasn't judging your every word and who wouldn't be insulted at the slightest provocation.

Katherine remembered back to earlier that evening, when they were waiting for the carriages to be prepared to take them to the ball. "You really got your hair all dolled up," Wesley had said to her, reaching out and bouncing a curl that had been strategically placed to lay on her cheek.

Katherine, not quite sure what to make of the statement, and taking it as an insult, had huffily replied. "Well what about your hair? It is such an odd length and strangely cut. I'm sure that I've never seen a man with hair like yours before. It is very odd." Katherine, sure that she had insulted him terribly, immediately felt both ashamed and more than just a bit proud. To her disconcertment, though, Wes had only laughed.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, "I'm surprised, I've only gotten compliments on my hair so far from the ladies."

Katherine, despite herself, felt a blush stain her cheeks because she did like it. She liked his hair very much and had even imagined running her fingers through its tousseled length, that was not too short and not too long.

Katherine drug her mind from the embarrassing memory, not wanting to blush again, and instead said, "In any case, I don't feel like dancing again."

"Good," Wes replied unabashedly, "I hate doing that lining up and walking around each other, that's not real dancing."

"What do you mean?" Katherine was confused, "If that's not real dancing, what is?"

"I'll show you sometime," Wes promised, "but not here, people would be scandalized," he looked around at the crowded ballroom while Katherine looked at him doubtfully.

"I'm perfectly certain that I have no idea what you could possibly mean," Katherine said, making Wesley laugh.

"What?" she asked, having no idea what was so funny, but secretly liking the fact that he laughed so easily.

"I'm perfectly certain that I have no idea what you could possibly mean," he mocked Katherine in high-pitched voice. "It's just the way you talk sometimes," he spoke normally again, "It makes me laugh."

Katherine felt as though she should be insulted, but all she felt was pleased. It was amazing how casual Wes was being with her after only knowing her for such a short time, but it was nice. She smiled inwardly to herself, shyly looking down at her feet.

"Finally I get away from the endless droning of that odious man," Charles said as he came up to Wesley and Katherine after elbowing his way through the crowd of people standing directly in front of them. He was referring to their elderly neighbor who always took it upon himself, with the best of intentions of course, to tell everyone around him how to better keep their health. If it were up to him, everyone would sit alone in their houses, never going out if their was even the slightest bit of wind or draft, never mind that he never took his own advise either.

"I've been looking for you for nearly a quarter of an hour," Charlie complained, "Now where is my wife?" Katherine could easily guess why Charles was so irritated, as he had been almost immediately separated from Cynara upon arriving at the ball, and Charles always grew more irritated when he did not have her by his side.

"She's talking to Miss Mary Turner. They've chosen her as a prospective match for Finley," Katherine explained. Charles had the fullest intention of stalking through the crowd to continue his search for his wife when he was stopped by his sister's hand on his arm, "Oh, do stay here Charles and leave them alone for another quarter hour," she pleaded, "We don't want to scare her away."

"And I'm so frightening am I?" he asked.

"Oh, you're a perfect boor," she replied. Charles, however anxious he might be about it, submitted to her request and stayed talking with them, although he often sent furtive glances about the room.

***

The sun was bright as it shone down on the two women walking through the grassy meadow, bonnets protectively on their heads, long, thin dresses brushing against their ankles. "So..." Cynara drew the word out suggestively, "How do you feel about your upcoming wedding?" She turned to her closest friend in this new and strange time. This was the first chance the two had to be alone with each other since Jane had delivered the news of her engagement.

Jane smiled encouragingly at Cynara, which only gave Cynara more questions than it answered, the smile being not sad, but not happy either. Sometimes it was so hard to get her friend to say what she really felt. "I'm very pleased with the match, of course, Randall Trahern is a most respectable gentleman. I don't know how I could not be pleased." Jane shrugged her shoulders, but then furrowed her eyebrows as she looked over at Cynara, "But I suspect you aren't."

Cynara let out a nervous little laugh, "No, no," she shook her head, "I'm happy if you're happy." The women reached some trees as the meadow slowly turned into woods, and Cynara took a seat against and old oak, taking advantage of its shade. "I just want to make sure you are, happy I mean."

"Of course I am," Jane said as she sat down next to Cynara. "I'll still be able to visit with you often enough. And I do so long to have children." She smiled sweetly, serenely. Her answer seemed to trouble Cynara.

"Do you love him?" She turned to Jane, staring her in the eye with an intensity that gave a certain graveness to the question. Jane looked up, at first simply startled by the question, but upon seeing the look in Cynara's eyes, became rather nervous. It wasn't like Jane to talk about her feelings in such a manner, and Cynara knew that, yet she still pushed. The matter was too important, the stakes too high.

"I seem to remember having this conversation before," Jane laughed out nervously, referring to Cynara's bold questions about Jane's love when the two had first met. She was trying to put the question off with a simple joke. Cynara was having none of it though.

"Feelings change and that was a long time ago," Cynara admonished her friend gently yet sternly, her tone of voice clearly stating her intention of not being put off, the subject was not going to change.

"What is love anyway?" Jane questioned, her frustration giving her voice more force than it usually carried, "I have affection for Randall. The match makes sense. Why must you harp on endlessly about love? It's nice fore poetry, but real life isn't like that."

"It can be if you let it. No, strike that, if you make it that way," the passion filling Cynara pushed her to her feet as she looked down at her friend. "You can't just go through life letting things take advantage of you. Jane," she threw her hands up in frustration, "The way I feel for Charlie... it's like when I kiss him, the whole world stops, and as cliché as that sounds, it's true. I would give up anything, my whole life. And I know he would do the same for me. And he understands me and accepts me in a way no one else ever has or ever will," Cynara looked down at her friend, "I just don't want you to go through a vanilla life, with no passion or love or romance. Don't you want to have someone to love, and who loves you? Madly, irrationally?"

"You talk about love like that is all there is to life," Jane spoke up quickly as soon as Cynara stopped talking for a moment, her thoughts too scattered to continue her speech, "But what's wrong with having a rational relationship. It may not be some crazy, passion filled affair, but can't love grow between two people from mutual affection and time spent together? Can't that also be love?"

Cynara groaned. "So you're telling me that you're going to grow to love Randall? That you're going to marry him on the chance that you might grow to love him?"

"Yes, Cynara," Jane stood up too. Despite the closeness of the two women's friendship, they were at this moment standing revealingly far away from each other. There views on the subject were so different. Jane loved Cynara for her individuality and free spirit, an attribute that Jane secretly longed to have in herself, but also something she felt she could never really possess. At the same time, though, Jane resented Cynara trying to push these ideals onto her. When Cynara talked about passion and true love, Jane did want those things for herself, but in her deepest of hearts, she didn't think she was ever going to get them. They were for wild, astonishingly beautiful people like Cynara. Those people who seemed to always have things work out for them. Jane, however, felt plain, average, on a whole different plane from her friend. Those things weren't for her.

Yet Jane didn't even really know she felt this way. Her feelings were too deep inside her to properly form into thoughts, even in her own mind, so all she knew was the anger she felt at Cynara for trying to make her feel bad about her engagement, which should be a joyous affair.

"Well it can work both ways you know," Cynara pointed out, "You could grow to hate him. You could marry him and find out he is an awful, egotistical, mean-hearted person."

"You don't even know him," Jane said accusingly, sticking up for Randall on pure principle.

"No, but I only meant it hypothetically. Look, I hope that I'm wrong. I hope you do grow to love him, Jane. I just wanted to, as your friend...oh I don't know what I wanted to do." Cynara fell silent and so did Jane.

"I just want you to be happy," Cynara said helplessly after minutes of silence.

"You're my dearest friend, Cynara, you know that right?" Jane took a step toward her, yearning in a way for things not to end on this note, for their

"You're my best friend, too," Cynara stepped over some roots to reach Jane and wrap her arms around the shorter woman in a friendly hug.

***

"Cynara!" Katherine called out as she stepped over a small green hedge. "Cynara!"

"She went on a walk with Jane about a half an hour ago," Wesley informed her from behind.

"Oh!" Katherine jumped around, startled by the voice behind her. Her quick movement caused her to step on the plant she had just carefully maneuvered a second before, her foot getting caught in its branches, propelling her backwards on to her bottom right on top of the wretched thing.

"Oh," Katherine said again, this time with more of a groan in her voice.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked as he held out his hand to her, the grin on his face contradicting the truly unfortunate nature of the humiliating accident in her opinion. Katherine blushed a deep red as she ignored the proffered hand, instead opting to propel herself up on her own. Unfortunately, her foot was trapped in an awkward angle, and in her hurry to stand up, she didn't take the time to properly untangle her foot, causing her to lose her balance once again.

This time however, when all she had time to do was gasp, Wesley reached out and caught her around the waist before she could fall completely on her but. He was now outright laughing! The ungentlemanly cad, as he bodily pulled her out of the bush. Katherine, despite her anger at his rude laughter, couldn't help but appreciate the strength in his arms as he simply lifted her up into the air and onto her feet, or how nice they felt wrapped around her. All too soon, though, he had set her down and was standing a step back from her.

"You're a graceful one you know that?" Wes teased, making Katherine blush even redder.

"What?...How?...I" Katherine sputtered out as she shook her head. "How can you mock me in such a way after you cause me to trip?" she accused, putting her hands on her hips, staring him down?

"What? It's my fault?" Wesley laughed.

"It most certainly is."

"It most certainly is not," Wes mocked her. "You tripped all by yourself, dearie, I was even trying to help you!"

"You startled me and caused me to trip. You can't deny it." Katherine concluded. "And don't call me dearie," she whispered the last word in a scandalized tone as though it were something quite unseemly and improper to say at all in polite society.

"Yeah and why not?" Wes asked. "You are a dear, you know?"

Katherine was quite unsure how to respond to that, stared at him with mouth agape for a moment before turning and hurrying inside as quickly as possible without running.