Our first day of spring.
By this date next year, Sorcha Alden’s story will out there.
That’s a scary thought—relaxing my control-freak grip enough to set this story free.
I know the time has come, to let go, to look forward, to share the magic of the Equinox Gala…
When the doors swung open, hundreds of candles adorned the walls like burning gemstones. Raimond grasped Sorcha’s hand and raised it to eye level. Stretching out at full arm’s length he presented her in the center of the dazzling ballroom. They turned in a circle, acknowledging the guests around the dance floor and many more ringing the upstairs gallery.
“May I have the honor of your first dance, Lady Sorcha?”
“Yes Duke, but the honor is all mine.”
“And the music?”
“The waltz, please.”
“The waltz it is.” Raimond turned toward the orchestra director. “S’il vous plait…”