Simon Basset watched you from across the room, neatly tucked back from the lively crowd by the far wall, as Lady Danbury's annual ball was in full swing. Gold twinkled all around him, as though the accents of the ballroom had somehow managed to capture the shine of the evening stars themselves. The rather ostentatious chandelier, that hung in place of beauty above the very center of the dancefloor, glistened it's light through the dangling crystals that resembled the purest of wintertime icicles. A golden fixture with the most beautiful of jewels reflected the light in warm beams of an orangish, rather honeyed hue across the ballroom. Stretching far as to leave no corner or crevice untouched by it's piercing glow.

Simon's eyes followed you, as you stood amongst a sea of bustling debutantes on the hunt for a husband this season, watching the way the golden glow danced across the delicate beading of your sweeping gown. The pale lilac tone shimmering as though pure seams of silver were woven within the springtime fabric. Your sleeves cascaded over your shoulders in a sweep of soft linen, but stopped abruptly before it could conceal the warm flesh of your upper arms. The white of your silk gloves as pure as freshly fallen snow, and with an amused smirk hidden against the curl of his lips, Simon watched as they concealed your fingers that aimlessly fiddled in front of your embellished bodice. Even as distance stood vast between your two bodies, with many others filling the space with their tiresome conversations and rather eccentric attire choices, Simon Basset could feel the discomfort radiating from your squirming stance as though rays from the chandelier above. 

He hadn't the slightest clue to the amount of time in which you stood across the room, enduring a rather dreadful conversation with an Earl you obviously wished you hadn't have had the pleasure of meeting. But eventually, he watched as you kindly excused yourself and with a soft twirl of your hidden heels against the ballroom floor, you turned in his direction. As though you knew exactly where he stood amongst the sea of the ton, your eyes found Simon's deep brown eyes that shown with a mirthful gaze immediately.

The fabric of your pale purple gown swished around your ankles, as you bounded through the clusters of women you wished not to engage with and many pestering mothers who knew your own, making your way towards Simon Basset who stood relaxed in the corner of the ballroom. A clear and incredibly irksome expression of smugness revealed in a soft glow across his facial features, as his eyes seemed to laugh with the amusement he made sure his lips concealed from your view, as you continued your way towards the man. 

The ballroom was rather warm, as the stifling atmosphere filled with the scent of conflicting perfumes and richly poured alcohol, grazing over your exposed flesh with a breath of humidity as you made your way through the barrier of dancing bodies. The music played loudly around you, as though not a single ounce of oxygen was left unscathed by the touch of a sharp and melodic violin. But as you finally reached Simon, in his seemingly protected corner of the bustling ballroom, nothing around you seemed to have much presence as you watched his mirthful expression grow. His lips curling from their ghost of a smirk into a rather full blown grin of pure amusement, as his brow arched at the sight of your less then appreciative glare you sent hurdling his way. Your heels clicking furiously against the reflective surface but left inaudible in the presence of such loudly strummed symphonies. 

"You bloody left me Basset!" You hissed through your faintly glossed lips, resisting every urge to rest your hands down upon your hips. Staring up at Simon through the deep flutter of your lashes, your exasperated expression burned intensely from your gaze, as though you might in some way scorch through his perfectly tailored clothes like the rays of the sun. Despite his towering height over your frame, it felt as though you were looking down at a scolded child. But unlike a child in the midst of trouble, Simon hadn't the slightest shred of remorse as his smile only seemed to widen with your softly restrained outburst. 

Your eyes darted to the side, in search for any listening ears or wandering eyes of the ton who might catch the scene you strived diligently to keep concealed. But when you found anyone in close proximity to you and The Duke of Hastings, you discovered they were either immersed in a conversation or lost out dancing to the beautiful melodies. And so, you snapped your attention straight back to the man who looked at you with roguish enjoyment. 

"These men are unbearable and you were my only line of defense this evening, against their dreadful tales of self righteousness!"

You watched as Simon's brows arched higher in clear delight of your annoyance, spewing the words his way in a tight lipped tone as gracefully as you could muster amongst your elegant surroundings. His lips parted as they curled upwards, growing small creases in the corners that were nearly hidden amongst the dark beard covering his jawline. But his grin revealed just enough that the edges of his pearly white teeth glinted in the low light, a form of pure happiness and hilarity at your expense washed over his once stoic expression. And while your dismay continued to flow through your veins, the sight of such emotion in Simon's eyes and laughing smile, always had the profound ability to turn your frowns upside down. It was as though it was infectious, Simon Basset's happiness, and as you couldn't help your smile that began to expand softly against your own exasperated lips, you realized you hoped you never found a cure for his contagious elation. 

Simon allowed his grin to toy at his lips for a few seconds longer before they pressed together, concealing the faint glimpse of delight and furrowed his brows in a coy expression. His dark brown eyes glistened in the reflection of the shimmering light that shone around you, creating depths in his orbs that claimed such a depressing shade, making them soften as they stared intently into your awaiting gaze. The corner of his lip twitching softly in a mischievous motion, as though whatever he was about to say was rather vexatious and when it came to your friendship with The Duke of Hastings, you had no doubts that it would be. 

"I rather thought that the Earl preferred to speak to you without any of my overbearing company?" 

Although you had succeeded in resisting the urge to rest your palms on your hips, or cross them in a moment of annoyance across your chest, you couldn't hold back the roll of your eyes. Shaking your head softly at the man who still continued to smile a small, but rather roguish smug smirk, you captured his gaze once again. 

"Indeed," You nodded sardonically. "so he could proceed to tell me of all his land and the inner workings of his estate. I truly do believe that he thought that that may sway my interest!"

Simon did well enough to conceal his next spout of short laughter, pressing his lips together in a tight lipped smirk, but he looked down at you through the deep sprawl of his lashes, with that same mirthful shine shimmering in the reflection of his eyes. Tilting his head forward a few inches, as though he was bending down to whisper a secret into your ear, he spoke in playful tone. 

"Some gentlemen haven't the slightest clue how to woo a woman at all." His words fell in a breath that echoed with a slight "tsk", as fake astonishment saturated his low voice and coy dismay bunched his brows together as though the mere thought was uncouth. 

Rolling your eyes at The Duke of Hastings for the second time that evening, in the mere span of a minute of two, you couldn't help the smile that inevitably rolled its way out across your lips. As though a blanket of amusement, stretching in soft linen over the curves of your faintly glossed over lips. Staring up at him as your next chosen words teetered delicately on the edge of your tongue, Simon's brows perked as his eyes fell to a sight behind you. His attention drawn from your awaiting gaze, and his lips began to move softly as his eyes remained on the sight growing closer behind you. 

"I cannot help but wonder, whatever this next gentleman might say in attempts of swaying a young debutante like yourself." Simon's words were spoken in a near murmur below his breath, his eyes scanning the sight inching towards you through the crowd and the smugness tugging at the bottom corner of his lips was not lost on you. Even in the dim orangish twinkling glow, you saw the way that your displeasure and quite simply social agony this evening, had in turn been his sole source of enjoyment throughout. 

Your eyes widened at his words, suddenly feeling as though a darkening cloud was looming a few mere feet from where you stood. An anxious thumping reverberating throughout your entire chest, at the thought of enduring another intolerable conversation with a gentleman, eyeing you up and down in hopes of making you his wife at some point during the season. Your hands nearly darted forward to reach for Simon's, but you resisted and kept them stiff by your sides as you stared intensely up at him.

"Please Simon," You hissed under your breath, unsure how close this next man was to you by now. "ask me to dance, surely you have the energy after hiding out in this corner all evening, for a mere two step."

Simon smiled at the desperation that seeped not only from your sharply whispered words, but from your very pores, as you radiated pure distress in your last minute plea. Your eyelashes fluttered wildly, thumping against your cheekbones as if they were the flapping wings of a hummingbird, as your gaze was wide with longing for his response. But with a few more heart pounding seconds, Simon Basset conceded, and held his hand out to you.

"Might I have your next dance?" His words were gracious for anyone near, a volume or two louder than normal for Simon as he assured the man seeking you out of the crowd could very well hear. Nodding your head, as your curtsied ever so softly, you slid your white silk glove over his fingertips until you gripped the warmth of his palm. Feeling the heat radiating through his flesh and into the very fabric of your gloves, as he led you with ease towards the dancefloor. 

The dancefloor was as though a blur of watercolor, the sweeping gowns of the woman around you blending like a rainbow glinting from the freshly fallen rain. The chandelier twinkled like the stars in the sky, hung high from the ceiling above you, and the floor beneath your heels was smooth and without a single streak or scuff. More bodies stood amongst the outskirts, lost in conversation or overlooking those dancing to the heavenly melodies, but the space still felt confining and rather suffocating. Until, you felt Simon's arm begin to encircle your waist and pull you closer as your hand grasped his left and he began to dance with your matching steps. Slow and steady, and it felt in that moment, as though the eyes of the ton and the lingering threat of men who you were deeply uninterested by, simply faded to the background. 

"Thank you," Whispering the words softly, after your feet had begun to move to the dance without having to truly think about the steps, your eyes lifted from their gaze down upon your spinning heels and met Simon's stare. It was there and waiting, his deep scrutiny already upon your shoulders. "for saving me back there."

"Although it was your original duty," Your head tipped forwards faintly, in an attempt to furthermore express and emphasize your point. "I still very much appreciate the rescue."

Simon smirked softly, his head and stance steady on his broad shoulders as he swayed easily with your motions to the strumming harmonies. "Now what sort of gentleman would I be, if I simply refused to rescue a damsel in distress."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes for the third time, as you stood amongst a crowded enough dancefloor. "I do not recall ever using the word damsel."

Simon found humor in your annoyed mumble, but decided to keep his opinions to himself and settled for a new set of words that might get him a few less hateful glances. "I appreciate your gratitude, and I do find that I can say I would be happy to rescue you whenever the moment may present itself, again in the future."

You smiled at his response, although his tone was laced with slight sarcasm and his words were spoken in a hushed joking manner, you knew sincerity laid just below the surface. Perhaps it was in the way his arm held tightly around your waist, as though he was protecting you from the wandering eyes of unwanted men even now. Or the way his sight washed over your face, peering up at him through your own brightened gaze as he seemed to have no where else in the room to stare but into the deep abyss of your own eyes. But perhaps, above it all, it was simply due to the knowledge that you knew him so very well. 

Your friendship with The Duke of Hastings, wasn't one in which many found they could understand. Their assumptions and opinions blinding their ability to see a relationship formed on the basis of something other than marriage or social standing, something deeper and far more human you realized after some time. You could say with more certainty than you had ever held in your life, that Simon was your dearest friend, and it was in that notion that you knew he would always look out for your best interest. Even when he found blatant amusement in your suffering at these nearly intolerable events, Simon would always be there watching out for you and you knew that he would swoop in as the gentleman he was, time and time again without even having to ask. 

Simon's throat cleared in low rumble, and your attention refocused upon his eyes that had seemingly prompted your sudden lost daydreaming. "Have I yet told you how beautiful you look this evening?"

His words were light, floating through the air as though the syllables themselves floated against the music notes that filled the sparkling atmosphere. You could hear the smile in his voice far before it presented itself in the softest tug of his lips, his brows arching faintly as he stared down at you. 

Tipping your head to the side, barely enough to allow a loose wispy strand fallen at the nape of your neck, to brush against your shoulder. Your hair was bound in tight coils, pinned into an up do that made your head feel ten times heavier and quite possibly resemble a beehive, if they were made of silken strands of harshly pulled back hair. It did allow for the air to fan across your neck, cooling off from the humidity of close bodies and anxieties the night inevitably brought forth. And besides the natural shine of your curls, delicate crystals were pinned within the coils, glinting the light above off of them as though the sharpest pricks of moonlight on a rippling lake. 

"I do believe you have certainly waited long enough to divulge such honest praise." You replied coyly, watching his hidden smile spread in a soft ghost of a smirk. 

"I only wished to allow all of the eligible suitors in this room the fair chance to offer their compliments first, it only seemed fair."

Staring up at him, you smiled through your eye roll. "Oh yes, I can just imagine what else I am to hear from these gentlemen. Thus far, I have had the immense pleasure of hearing that my dress is as lovely as a spring lilac bush, glittering with the morning dew. Or that my eyes rather match the shade of the nature in bloom, even when you and I both know that they do not."

"Are you not fond of the purple? I find it quite softens you." Simon remarks and you raise an eyebrow his way. 

"I require softening Your Grace?" You narrowed your eyes with a suspicious stare, and watched him silently chuckle beneath his breath, before you released you own soft sigh. 

"My mother chose the shade." You confessed in a tone of clear displeasure. "She asked Madame Delacroix for a fabric that might differ from my most previous gowns, one that might match the feel of the season. But I feel like a bloody flower!" 

Simon grinned, spinning you with him across the floor in delicate twirls. "I thought all women loved flowers?"

"We appreciate being brought flowers Basset, not being dressed as one!"

"Wouldn't you prefer to resemble the beauty and elegance of a flower, rather than the garish citrus parallels of the Featherington ladies?"

You nearly took your hand from his grip and pushed him lightly against his chest. "Simon! Hush now! Don't be so impertinent."

While Simon words, although quite clearly tactless, held a shred of truth, Penelope Featherington was a dear friend. It was not her fault that her mother dressed her in colors that clashed with her beautiful red hair and made her skin look more washed out than the sand lining the beaches. Lady Whistledown would write and the ton would talk, but Penelope's true beauty laid beneath the ruffles of repugnant fabric, and you were quick to remind Simon of such facts.

"I only aim to show you that it all comes down to perspective, and it quite clearly appears to me, that being a walking lilac bush has not dissuaded any relatively fine gentlemen in this room. They are all quite taken by your appearance."

You felt dissatisfied and slightly disgusted by his explanation, and you told him as such. "I can hardly find a care in my mind for what any of these men think."

"None of them?" Simon pursued, but you could not quite decipher how much of his intrigue was merely a pestering façade or sincere curiosity. "Surely, one will become your smitten husband one of these days, will he not?"

Your gaze that had fallen over his shoulder, immediately snapped back to his eyes that had yet to leave your frame. Letting the warmth of his deep brown eyed gaze wash back over your face like a returning tide. Although his brows had fallen back to their natural state, and his lips straightened back into a flat line, all emotion of his amusement and mischievousness was not yet forgotten. For it still presented itself, in the softest shadows against his facial expression, as though it was simply a casted shade speaking of the smiles and mirth dancing just below the surface. 

"You know full well," You began in a soft breath, one of faint dismay and strong conviction as you stared at Simon intently. "that if I were to truly marry any man in this room, it would be you."

Simon's brows arched while his lips remained perfectly straight, "Why, I'm flattered." 

This was quite certainly the only man you knew, who could make you visibly roll your eyes more times than you could count in a single night, and at a soirée nonetheless. "You are the only man I find I could ever stand long enough to share an entire life together with."

Simon's eyes narrowed as his head dipped to the side in a mocking fashion, "The compliments come so very easily to you, do they not?"

"Oh hush Simon Basset," You scolded in a soft tone, one that made his smile reappear for a short second across his curling lips. "You know exactly what I mean."

Simon nodded his head in a firm tilt forward. "Yes, I understand what you mean, for I quite feel as though I could say that if I were to ever change my mind on the prospect of marriage itself, that I would be much inclined to share my life with you as well."

These words, although saturated in the same teasing tone, you had no doubt in the amount of sincerity held within their meaning. For you knew. Staring up into the deep abyss of his dark brown orbs, you could see it twirling in the soft swirls of his irises. You could feel it in the way he held you without a shred of doubt or uncomfortableness, the ease in which he spoke with you as though the two of you were the only souls in the room itself. You knew, in your own heart, that at the end of the day, what Simon Basset confessed in a moment of lighthearted banter was the truth that laid against his heart. 

"Why, Your Grace, it seems as though we find ourselves in a very lengthy betrothal then, wouldn't you say?" You joked softly with a tilt of your head, listening to the slowing of the violins as the dance began to fall towards a close. "The arrival of an alternate universe seems very far from the horizon, does it not?"

Simon smiled his tight lipped smirk your way one last time, as you curtsied before him at the end of the song. "An alternate universe, where I am to wed and my wife is to be dressed as a dancing flower. I dare say that fate does not sound as horrific as some."

You laughed at his words, letting the softest flutter of a giggle past your parted lips as you began to make your way towards the outskirts of the dancefloor. Simon's hands had since left your own, but you stride alongside him as though your hands had never parted. For you can feel not only the warmth exuding from his perfectly tailored attire, a deep burgundy velvet that brightens the deep brown of his eyes, but from his presence itself. 

As your eyes scan across the room, you catch sight of your dear mother motioning you over towards where she stands beside a tall gentleman, and you feel a sigh pass through you lips. "I suppose it is rather back into the den of wolves now."

Simon concealed his small smile, as he nodded his head in a soft motion at your disappointed words and begrudging tone. "Shall I accompany you?"

"Why? Because I am yet again a damsel in distress?"

Simon narrowed his eyes as his lips curled into a rather roguish smirk, making the light of his eyes shimmer and the pure beauty of his face radiate within his delicate features. "Precisely."

You laughed breathlessly, before shaking your head solemnly at his offer. "Sadly, I have yet to meet anyone strong enough, or quite possibly brave enough, to save me from my mother."

"No, I must go on my own," You sighed dramatically, looking up through your lashes at Simon once more. "wish me well, Your Grace."

Simon tilted his head towards you softly, "I shall be here when that alternative universe arrives."

Smiling at his words, it took everything in your will to spin softly on your heels, and begin to make your away from The Duke of Hastings and towards your mother who waited for you. Leaving behind you, a man who had made your eyes roll more time than you could count, and yet, in the very same breath made you smile more than your lips had ever experienced. A man who knew your heart better than any of these other suitors every hoped to and protected it as if it belonged to him to begin with. 

A/N: The idea for this one shot, came to me very suddenly. When I found that GIF, I knew I had to create something playful and lighthearted to go with the swoon worthy rakish man above. It's a different tone and plot than I have ever crafted before, more dialogue driven and fun rather than emotional and deep. But it was a nice new experience to adventure into a new kind of territory with this character, and I hope you all enjoyed it!❤