He led her off the dance floor, whispered for her to wait there and walked over to the band. Senona recognized that they were nearly done the number and was curious to see what Brant had in mind that involved the band. A dance, that much was certain.
She didn't have to wait long. The band struck up some slow, sultry Spanish music that was led by a guitar. Senona immediately recognized it as the Fandango, a young Spanish dance and one she knew well. The dance floor began to clear when no one else recognized the music and Senona realised what Brant had in mind. She nearly burst out laughing as she imagined the whispers that would go around and Catherine… Catherine would be furious.
Brant didn't move towards her, only bowed in her general direction and raised an eyebrow in a silent dare. It was more than Senona could refuse, and so it began. The dance was one of courtship and, although they never touched, the sensuality and heat was apparent. Their gazes held passion that screamed of unseen touches and desires, Senona revelled in it. Every clap of her hands. Every stamp of her feet. Every swirl of her skirt shouted out her triumph to Catherine. And then, all too soon, the dance was over. The passion dissipated, and Senona left the dance floor to cool her head in the garden. She had not noticed Catherine angrily exit to the garden during the dance or she might have avoided it.
"Why?" was all she asked, but it was enough to get Senona to turn around and face her. "Why do you hate me so? I ask only to be free to love Brant. But you insist on planting doubt in my mind and embarrassing me at my own ball."
"I don't hate you… I'm just trying to win," was Senona's feeble excuse. She saw the look of agony in Catherine's eyes, and suddenly her cause seemed juvenile.
"Well you've won. It's apparent who Brant loves, and I don't want to have to fight for it."
Catherine was a defeated woman, and it was in her voice. All Senona could do was stand there in shock as she walked back into the house. Brant, who was just walking into the garden, caught her arm as she tried to rush past him and she stopped, looking at him sadly. There was no fight in her, only brokenness.