Caprice Read Free Page B

exactly sure how it came about.
    Besides Jeffrey, there was another dark, slim man named Lane
    Randall. Then she knew the blond, rather stocky, good-natured man
    named Emory, and a redhead named Ralph. Of the women, Caprice
    was the only blonde, the others being varying shades of brunette, and
    one woman, Petra, being particularly ravishing. Both Caprice and
    Roxanne knew the other, Gwynne, and for that reason Caprice tried
    to go out of her way to be especially nice to Petra.
    Dinner came and went, an informal affair consisting of cold meats
    and salads, and the talk was very general. Jeffrey's parents were
    lovely people who made themselves as unobtrusive as possible, with
    the kind of tact that Caprice silently appreciated. Afterwards,
    everyone made a general exodus to their rooms to change for the
    party which started at eight. Several local people had been invited,
    and it was to be quite large.
    The house was located at the shoreline of a deep, large, sky blue lake,
    and Caprice hoped that the party would spill outdoors so that they
    could take advantage of the cooling night breeze. She held two
    dresses in her hands, one a simple light lavender affair, and the other
    also made of a light summer material but not at all simple, being a
    frothy white confection and nearly (as Ricky had said) good enough
    to eat. She dithered over which to wear, and then laughed at herself,
    for she would have to wear the other the next night anyway, and so
    she laid down the white confection and put away the lavender.
    Fifteen minutes later, she whirled in a circle and the skirt flared from
    her wasp-slim waist, three layers of transparent tulle falling to settle
    against her knees. She patted her hair, which was arranged in her best
    French braid, and then with a small, satisfied smile she descended the
    stairs just in time to meet the first wave of guests.
    The evening went splendidly. Jeffrey did not pay too much attention
    to Caprice, so Roxanne didn't feel slighted. The back garden was,
    much to Caprice's delight, lit with low-hanging, yellowish lanterns
    which were reflected off the. blackened waters of the lake until it
    looked like the whole scene held a countless array of lights. The
    breeze blew cool and refreshing, and the talking, laughing guests
    spilled from large, open glass doors which led to a roofless veranda.
    After some time, music was played over stereo speakers positioned
    so that the songs filled the open area.
    Caprice took a position next to the soft lapping water, leaning against
    the sturdy, waist-high wooden rail as she watched the dancing. Just to
    her left was a pier of the same sturdy wood as the rail, red stained,
    and several small boats were moored to it, quietly bumping against
    each other. Soon she was joined by others, and the small group held a
    confusion of witty, enjoyable talk.
    She had danced with every male weekend guest, and Jeffrey also, and
    then she had danced with almost every other man besides,
    laughingly, stepping as light as the breeze that touched at her warm
    cheeks. To one side was a table holding beer for those who cared for
    it, wine, which was more to her own taste, and an array of soft and
    mixed drinks. For some reason the dancing had trickled down to just
    a few. She leaned back against the rail, sipped at her glass of wine,
    and listened to the talk around her.
    She could never say why the impulse grabbed her, later. But it came
    as they always came, on a fit of quick-welling, inexplicable boredom,
    incomprehensible to her and so never talked about. She knew the
    impulses were why other people thought she was whimsical and
    flighty, but she couldn't seem to curb them.
    She set her glass down with a sharp click on to the flat wide top of
    the wooden rail, and pushed herself away from it. Then she drew
    herself to attention, and politely, ludicrously, addressed the empty air
    in front of her. 'Dear sir, would you care to dance with me?'
    A neat sidestep and she was the gentleman,