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Characters/OOC

If you would like to attend this ball, please post in the EOI thread.
Once we have enough characters I will post an intro here and then we can begin :)


The Setting

Demarke House, the stately home of Lady Marjorie

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Sick Hedges​

Lady Marjorie

She is not Judy Dench, but you might want to imagine that she is Judy Dench.

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Is that hair strictly regency? Nevermind.
THE GUESTS

these losers:
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Lady Marjorie has two exquisite nieces (the Gossages) who live with her and who (being of dancing age) need to have the young people of the neighbourhood over for a ball at least twice a month. Lady Marjorie likes to feel her own consequence, so of course she obliges. She is even- out of sympathy for her nieces' need for company, and sadly constrained by certain facts of geography- not so very particular about the rank, fortune and fashion of the guests as you would assume from one in her position.

Who knows, perhaps tonight the rumours that Lady Marjorie has other, male, handsome, rich young relatives may prove to be true. Everybody says the nieces have a cousin who they are simply dying to have visit, but who must stay away to tend his sick mother... Or is he tied up with business in town... ? Or has Lady Marjorie intentionally kept him away, from fear that he will make an undesirable alliance with some local girl...? Or was that the other cousin, the one who everyone says is such a rake...
YOUR MISSION

SNAG. YOU. A. MAN.

John-Pettie_Two-Strings-To-Her-Bow_1882.jpg

SNAG TWO!

Assuming you are a marriageable young lady that is. If you are a young man, an old matron or a portly esquire you might have different ideas. Then again, you might not.​
 
RULES
I will update this as needed, so keep an eye on this section:

Joining: please post an EOI in the appropriate thread and when accepted pop a character description in the character thread

Posting: UPDATE: We're currently waiting 2 posts before responding, we may adjust it if we need to. We're in a range of timezones so there may be some waiting. Tag people you interact with in your posts to make things easier to follow.

Images: If you would like to introduce your character with a portrait, go ahead. After introductions, I will ask that people keep images in spoiler tabs, so they don't clutter up the roleplay.

General roleplay ettiquette applies, I will be more specific if any issues come up. Ask in OOC if you're not sure if something is within reasonable standards of historical accuracy.

Have fun :)

Just tagging the players here to keep track/so everyone gets a chance to read the rules.
(myself) Miss Mariah and Miss Anabelle Gossage (+ Lady Marjorie, Mrs Fletcher etc)
Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf Captain August Burns (+sidekick)
jbreezy jbreezy Mr Thomas Addington
Maxilgal Maxilgal Miss Eliza Fogerty (+ family)
Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero Sir Rupert Adler
thumbelinaaa thumbelinaaa Miss Isabella Nightengale
SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful Miss Charlotte de Courcy
Xevia Xevia Miss Mary Delacroix (+ cousin)
 
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Setting

The hall

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For greeting guests, or nipping out for a breath of fresh air or a quiet word

The Ballroom
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For dancing, watching dancing or waiting to be asked to dance.

The Drawing Room

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For tea, cards, gossip, piano performances and whathaveyou

The Smoking Room

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For doing manly things.

The Balcony/Garden

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For trysts
 
The shadows were just beginning to lengthen, and a pleasant golden light spilt into the hall at Demarke House, where the preparations were- more or less- complete for the evening’s ball. Lady Marjorie declined to appear downstairs earlier than her guests, and so the duty of fussing over the final details- watching the musicians tune, repositioning flowers, making inquiries, worrying servants- fell to Miss Mariah Gossage, and it was a duty she relished. She went from room to room, sweeping the floor with her lace hem, touching vases and candlesticks lightly with gloved fingers. She arrived at length in the hall and came to rest, her pale face glowing in the late summer sun with the serenity of self-importance. A woman named Mrs Fletcher had been making a half-attempt to follow her, and now took a grateful seat with a complacent yawn. Mrs Fletcher was a tall, handsome and incredibly dim woman of middle age who was the Miss Gossage’s regular chaperone. In the neighbourhood, she was second in status only to Lady Marjorie, and was likewise childless (a plight that seemed characteristic of the preeminent ladies of the neighbourhood, while women of less importance seemed to be constantly producing heirs that they had no great name to give).

The second Miss Gossage presently descended the stairs, likewise glowing. Both sisters, in their way, had been wilful in their choice of dress. Lady Marjorie had insisted that Miss Mariah had to put those insipid colours away, lest her complexion be washed-away to nothing. Showing a stubborn streak, Mariah had opted for a pale, gossamer mauve, and walked around train-in-hand like a maiden from greek myth. Annabelle, then, took up the rich colours rejected by her elder sister. Her appearance, beaming, in rich magenta provoked a thin-lipped silence from Lady Marjorie, which indicates a transgression to great for reproach. The young women, as often happened, won the point with little struggle.


“Is my harp down?” Annabelle sang out to her sister from the stairs, with just a hint of a lisp.
For just a moment, the grecian serenity of Mariah’s face was disturbed by a flicker irritation. Instead of replying directly to her sister she addressed Mrs Fletcher,
“We’ve had the harp moved down into the drawing room, along with the piano” she said primly, with an indulgent smile “for any ladies who wish to perform.” The harp was a new addition to the household. Both sisters had practiced the harp at the school, as well as the piano at home, and- to Mariah’s secret chagrin- Annabelle had proved something of a prodigy. She told herself that the piano was a less flashy and therefore more elegant instrument. Not a bit disturbed by Mariah’s reply, Annabelle drooped over the balustrade with a languid grin, perching her chin on her hand to watch for the guests.
“I suppose not many of our neighbours have so much as touched a harp before” Mariah added as an afterthought, pleased with the idea of treating her neighbours to their first taste of the prestigious instrument. In fact, she felt the whole evening was her treat to the neighbourhood, and it was a very gratifying feeling for a pretty women of nineteen.

OOC: A brief intro as I've made everyone wait so long. You may now begin!
 
Eliza felt her hands shake slightly as she finished dressing. Her grandmother’s locket fell gently on her chest as she finally managed to hook the infinitely small chain. As she looked in the mirror, she sighed slightly. How she wished for golden hair like her mother and sister. Or even the seemingly unspeakable charm her brother possessed, or her father’s amiability with seemingly every person he had ever met in his dealings.

Eliza was afraid of her countenance, either it lacking or of being too rambunctious. And she had neither the beauty nor the wealth to instill confidence in her face. All she had was the pride of the family that her father had taught her, and the wisdom and sensibility of her mother.

“Eliza, dearest! We’ll be late if we don’t leave soon!”

“Coming, Mother!” She stopped fidgeting with her hair and stood for final inspection. She had on a light, silver white dress and long silk gloves, like her mother. Her hair was adorned handsomely with pearls and a pale mint ribbon, and finally around her shoulders was affixed a shawl for the travel to Lady Marjorie’s estate.

She walked downstairs, and saw her brother looking quite handsome in his tails. He also had his own gold pocket watch hanging on his vest, making him look very stately indeed.

“Come now, Eliza! Mother is in utter panic at the idea of being late for Lady Marjorie.” He smirked and held his arm out to his younger sister, walking her out of the house and towards the carriage where her father, in uniform, waited with their irked mother.

“You do not seem quite so anxious as us womenfolk, Henry.”

“No, Lady Marjorie does not scare me, for even if she looked so discreetly to find fault with me, I’m sure she would see none.”

“Henry, I am astounded how you can be so popular with the young ladies.”

“And why is that sister?”

“If I know anything about ladies, it is that they can always find fault with you.” They chuckled and Henry helped Eliza into the carriage.

It was an easy journey to the ball. Lady Marjorie’s stately manor was not too terribly far from town, and neither were the Fogerty’s, so the main roads led them easily to her road. Carriages from all over the countryside had gathered here. Indeed it was a grand home, for an even grander woman. Lady Marjorie was often spoken about at the tea table with the ladies who would come for her mother’s company. So fashionable, and of such high standing. And the Gossage ladies were no different. Elegance, poise, sheer perfection in the eyes of most men in their neighborhood.

They stopped, and her father immediately recognized a friend from somewhere. He instantly introduced the family to him, a Mr. Benning’s from town. It often astounded the family how easily their father created new acquaintances, and even more how quickly they became dear friends.

“Please, won’t you join us in the house?” Mrs. Fogerty graciously offered. He beamed, and tipped his hat to her.

“I would be honored,” he said, eyes lit up. They entered, and Eliza was flooded with sights and sounds. It was not yet night, so the golden sun lit up every part of the room. A good number of guests had already arrived, and Eliza wrung her hands nervously. What ever would the Gossage ladies think of her? And what would they be like? She often wondered of the trueness of character of rich young ladies, though she should not judge. Her eyes widened as they approached their hosts. A man stepped forward and announced their party.

“Captain and Mrs. Fogerty, with their son Mr. Fogerty and daughter Ms. Eliza Fogerty.” The men bowed graciously and the women curtsied. Henry indeed seemed livened by the introduction to the Gossage ladies, but Eliza could not tell outwardly which he preferred.
( Julian Spooner Julian Spooner )
 
Thomas sighed in frustration as he attempted to fix his cravat for the third time. His brow furrowed in the mirror as he stood in the foyer, making his mother and brother wait as he tried to get the piece of fabric to lie flat. Behind him, Charles emitted a quiet snicker, clearly amused by his brother’s struggle. Thomas turned to glare, but met his mother’s eyes instead.

“Darling, the knot is all backwards.” Mrs. Addington cooed, hands fussing at his neck. Charles smirked and Thomas rolled his eyes, but lifted his head all the same to allow his mother to fix his appearance. Her fussing hands moved to his jacket, then his hair.

“Mother, please,” Thomas said, but a small smiled played at the corner of his mouth as he turned to assess her work. The cravat had finally lay flat and with his top hat on, he was now ready to go. Charles led their mother out to the carriage, where their father waited. Thomas followed behind, but not before sneaking a swig of brandy. When he had finished, he loped behind his family, not wanting to be blamed for the delay.

The carriage was hooked to a stunning pair of blacks. An avid horseman, Thomas admired his father’s latest purchase before plunging his hands into his pockets. He pulled out two sugar cubes and fed one to each, but to the disapproval of his mother. Then finally he got into the carriage and the Addingtons set off.

The carriage ride was pleasant, quite beautiful with the setting sun. When they arrived, Mrs. Addington ushered the men inside, eager to see and be seen. The family was announced and bowed and curtsied appropriately. Thomas’ parents were immediately approached by friends, leaving Thomas and Charles alone.

“Fancy a smoke?” Charles asked, already looking to head to the Smoking Room.

“Perhaps later.” Thomas said with a nod, his eyes on Miss. Gossage and Miss Annabelle. When his brother had gone, Thomas strolled over to the young ladies. They had often been at various balls together, so Thomas was acquainted with them.

“Miss Gossage, Miss Annabelle.” Thomas said, kissing both of their gloves hands. “You both look lovely as always. I do hope you’ll both save me a dance tonight.” He said, giving them both his most charming smile. His bright eyes lingered on Annabelle for a split second. The youngest Gosssge lady looked absolutely stunning in her jewel toned gown. It was hard not to look. Her sister looked just as beautiful, but lacked the same spark of liveliness that resided in her sister’s eyes.

Thomas averted his eyes, not wanting to be too brash. After all, he had only just arrived. Just then, another family was announced, the Fogerty’s. Once they had been introduced and greeted the hostesses, Thomas politely introduced himself. Yet another beautiful girl had arrived. The heavens smiled down upon him. He smiled at her, wondering if she would dance with him as well.

Julian Spooner Julian Spooner
Maxilgal Maxilgal
 
The Demarke House was smaller than he remembered.

This, of course, was a misleading statement. The estate was grand as always, complete with sprawling hedges, and effigies that harkened back to Ancient Greece. Still, the last time Rupert was here, he still lived in a world of giants, when speaking to most anyone necessitated looking up, and when top shelves were perpetually out of his reach.

That was almost two decades ago. Nowadays, walking around the halls of the house felt like a voyage into the unknown -- into, more accurately, the half-known. An exercise in nostalgia. Unfortunately, a Mrs. Fletcher -- familiar face, unfamiliar name -- was very adamant about his staying put until the ball. She’d said something about his cousins being very busy, very busy indeed, preparing for the event, and something about him potentially getting in their way.

So it was that Rupert spent most of his morning with Lady Marjorie -- also by now, only a half-familiar face -- and his cousins, whose faces were both completely unfamiliar. Rupert had only just arrived at The Demarke House the previous evening, and on the way there, occupied himself with conversational topics that might come up in his interactions with his semi-estranged relatives.

Sure enough, he was asked questions he’d expected to be asked, and he’d managed to give answers he’d already rehearsed in his mind a few thousand times. What he didn’t quite expect was for awkward silence to befall them so early. Some time after lunch, just a few hours before the evening ball, he found himself aching for an excuse to take a walk outside, but instead found himself playing witness to what seemed a display of neuroticism over whether the final preparations for the ball were going smoothly or not.

He couldn’t quite make sense of it. If his aunt cared so much about it after all, why not simply be a more active participant? Ah, but there the two of them were, in the upstairs sitting room, well after the event had officially started. Lady Marjorie insisted to be the last the one to ‘arrive,’ and finally, bored out of his mind, Rupert volunteered to join the party downstairs to check that everything was going well.

‘Sir Rupert Adler of Redgrave, baronet!’ The butler’s voice seemed to bounce around the walls of the ballroom.


Rupert was already well-aware that balls were a regular occurrence at The Demarke House, so he was taken aback by how many guests had shown up to the party. Surely, everyone in the area would have been tired of all this pomp and circumstance by now? He gave the butler a curt nod before hurrying further into the crowd, where hopefully his presence could fade away amidst more charming strangers. His gaze darted everywhere in search of either of his cousins.

To his misfortune, he looked too far ahead, and yet not close enough. Somebody had come crashing into him, though not five seconds flew by before they had already removed themselves from his personal space, the only evidence of a half-moment collision present in the burgundy stain on his once immaculately white cravat.
 
Mariah flitted happily among the guests. They arrived in a steady stream and in even greater numbers than she had anticipated. The old as well as the young turned out in force, and many a fan-clutching matron sung the praises of the polished young lady who greeted them, as they steered their portly husbands into the ballroom. Annabelle assumed a demure demeanour, under the bland but watchful eye of Mrs Fletcher, during the arrival of the first guests, and dutifully trailed her sister and chaperone as they performed their social duties. By her flushed cheek and restless movements however, not to mention her frequent glances towards the ballroom, she was clearly watching for an opportunity to escape the more formal aspects of the ball. Every likely looking young gentleman received a keen appraisal from her sharp dark eyes, and she incessantly adjusted the construction of flowers and bows that crowned her dark head.

Mariah was making another quick round of the hall among the new arrivals. She noted her aunt's absence and was struck, as the young must often be, by the eccentricities of the elders who had such precise notions of decorum in the younger generation. The thought didn't strike her very forcefully, however, and she soon passed over it, reasoning that her aunt's huge wealth and importance explained any oddities in her behaviour. She was also, discretely, on the lookout for her cousin. The Gossage sisters, after waiting practically all of the adolescent lives in absolute desperation to meet their charming relative, both felt a keen disappointment in finding him so incomprehensibly dull and ill-mannered (this was the explanation they gave for his behaviour, for the possibility that their cousin Rupert could find them less than fascinating was far too devastating for either of them to admit). Mariah still held out hope, and when she wasn't occupied with preparations for the ball, spent a great deal of time devising schemes for finally capturing Rupert's attention and making him lively. It was a great test of her ingenuity, for most of her usual techniques had fallen flat already. Annabelle gave up far more quickly on their poor cousin, decided that he was probably stupid, and gradually dropped all attempts to please him (though, if he would only ask her to dance at the ball she would probably reconsider her decision, he was after all quite handsome).

It was not Rupert but another young gentleman that Mariah spotted first, however. With a smile of genuine pleasure, she offered her hand to young Mr Addington, who was a great favourite among all the young ladies, though Mariah was careful not to be too particular. Sure enough, Annabelle was soon at her elbow, dropping a quick curtsy and offering her own hand.
"I'll dance with you, Addington" she declared.
"Mr Addington, how lovely to see you" Mariah smiled, though it didn't escape her notice that his attention was mainly on her younger sister "of course you must have a dance! However you mustn't let Annabelle capitalise you all night, because there are many very pretty young ladies I've invited here tonight especially, and I don't want to see any of them go without partners"

This last statement she uttered with a certain brightness, because she had spotted the entrance of the Fogerties and her family, and felt a little rise of triumph, for she had been hoping to see Miss Fogerty at a ball of hers for some time. Accounts of her prettiness and agreeableness had reached her ears, and she had looked eagerly for a chance to see for herself if the promising reports were true. Miss Fogerty's appearance delighted her, and she moved forward slightly to shake her hand, thinking all the while that she must find an opportunity to tell her that, for her part, she considered her parents' marriage simply charming and so romantic.
"Miss Fogerty, I've so longed to meet you" she said, and greeted the rest of the family cheerfully. She was very careful only to give Henry Fogerty one very arch glance and smile, and then offer him her hand very demurely, for she knew the way the local gossip tended, and was determined not to inflame rumour.

Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero (mentioned)
Maxilgal Maxilgal
jbreezy jbreezy
 
Within the first greeting of Miss Gossage and her sister, Eliza felt a little easier about their acquaintance. She indeed was as pretty as her descriptions, and even with the flare rich young ladies seemed to have about them, Eliza was confident in the character of Miss Gossage, and even her sister.

“And I you! I have been hoping to make your acquaintance for quite some time. Oh, please, do not allow me to hold you from the rest of your guests.” Eliza smiled and curtsied and followed her brother towards the ballroom, taken away from a young man who had introduced himself. It felt rude, but the hall was getting much too crowded for their party to linger. Eliza made a note to apologize if she should see the young man later.

She most loved the drawing rooms at balls, time for discussion or for piano. The ballroom was often very large, menacing even, and the idea of a gentleman asking her to dance made her stomach turn. She didn’t despise dancing, she actually enjoyed the music and movement, but the fear of failure often kept her away.

Henry was more intent on finding his friends than with dancing at the moment, but his sister acted as an anchor on him socially. But hope was not lost, as a familiar face from his school days found him. Daniel Bolton greeted them both warmly, and invited them over to his current entourage. A young lady, no more than 16, hung to his arm warmly. She didn’t appear to have much sense, and had a look of naive wonder at the tall gentlemen and gowned ladies. Daniel and Henry simply talked of the horses, politics, and hunting, as young men often do. Eliza was resigned to listen the young lady (a Miss Amelia Crawford) as she droned on and on about all the latest gossip.

“And you know, the Gossages have a very handsome cousin, Sir Rupert Adler, who is a baronet! Recently inherited from his father. I hear that he is the most handsome, and more than wealthy.”

“And what is he like?”

“Well...I’m not quite sure...No one has seen him yet, but I am sure he is here tonight. Oh! Margaret! Margaret it is so good to see you my dear!” Miss Crawford obviously had lost interest in Eliza as an equally flighty girl joined her. She set herself on watching the dancers in these early stages of the ball. The ballroom wasn’t stifling yet and you could still breathe without much effort. There was, indeed, no shortage of handsome gentlemen among the crowd, but Eliza resigned herself to spectating at such an early hour. She did find that young gentleman again and apologized.

“I must apologize for earlier. The Gossages have invited many guests and we did not wish to keep the rest of them waiting.” She smiled gave a small curtsy. “Miss Eliza Fogerty, and I do apologize again but I don’t think I heard your name.”
( jbreezy jbreezy Julian Spooner Julian Spooner )
(Mentioned: Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero )
 
"Robert, how do I look?" asked August Burns, standing in front of his aide, who was wearing a similar yet more simple version of Burns' uniform, kilt included. One difference was that Robert wore his primarily red and white plaid Kilmarnock on his head, but without the monstrous black plumes which flew off some of the lads' bonnets.

"Quite proper, Captain, at least as proper I imagined one would be for such an affair. Oh, I hope I'll be alright here, sir."

"Right, right thank you--wait, what? Were you not through the same campaign I was? Slighted the same grand armée with our jeers and musketry in the face of perilous fates?!" Burns motioned about as he guided the two towards the front door, "and you fear a simple ball?"

"I've lost a little fear of musket and cannon balls, sir, I suppose I can still fear the other sort of ball I've yet to face."

"Ah damn it Sergeant! That's good--that's just it. Perhaps I've rubbed off on you yet. Come!"

Captain August Burns entered ahead of his aide, who upon entering himself, was immediately mesmerized. Not only could the bonnie Sergeant take in eyefuls of architecture, but also the urbanity of the whole situation, ladies included. August's eyes took in the same things, although he was more accustomed to the brave new world Sergeant Robert saw. Nonetheless Captain Burns snapped him back.

"Off with your head....now," Burns snuck the words to his aide, hoping that some guests had the chance to view what he imagined was unusual headwear to them. Then Robert removed his Kilmarnock and stuffed it away.

"Right...well done. Now..." Burns looked over the guests again, "ah, now that's a Royal Navy man--an introduction is only right--duty, nay love afore, right man?"

"Yes sir, I haven't a thing to the contrary--lead the way."

August Burns stepped up to the side of Captain Fogerty. ( Maxilgal Maxilgal )
 
Thomas chuckled at Miss Gossage’s comments. He had no doubt that any lady who was anyone would be at this ball tonight. The Gossage ladies were well known for their lavish balls and this one was no expection.

“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing the beautiful young ladies you’ve invited here. In fact, I’ll start making my rounds now if you don’t mind.” Thomas said, politely excusing himself. Before he left though, he turned back to Miss Annabelle with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll save a dance for you Miss Annabelle. Don’t forget, or you might break my heart.” Thomas said with a wink, then disappeared into the ballroom.

A steady stream of guests had been arriving since Thomas and the Addingtons had entered, and the ballroom was already bustling with activity. Thomas strolled around the perimeter, looking for a beautiful woman worthy of a first dance. However, he was intercepted by an older, more robust gentleman.

“Mr. Addington!” The man exclaimed, smiling widely. “Why, I haven’t seen you in years! Your father tells me you’ve just finished law school.”

Thomas smiled politely, shaking the man’s hand. “Mr. Davencourt. It’s so good to see you again. I have, just graduated. It’s treating me well so far.” He said, his eyes quickly scanning the room.

“Ah, now that you’re all settled, you’re here to find a wife I presume?”

Thomas smiled uncomfortably, but nodded. “It’s about that time.” He said, his eyes landing on a dark haired lady. Thank goodness. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment though.” He said, extracting himself and walking over to the young woman from the foyer.

Thomas smiled as the young woman curtsied and introduced herself. He bowed and kissed her hand, taking in her soft dark hair and beautiful blue eyes.

“I should be the one apologizing Miss Fogerty. My name is Mr. Thomas Addington. It’s a shame I was unable to properly introduce myself earlier. Perhaps I could make it up with a dance? A young lady as beautiful as yourself should be out on the dance floor where everyone can admire her.” He said with a devilish grin.

Thomas had seen Eliza standing and watching the dancing, which he took as a sign that she was waiting for a partner, something he was all too happy to oblige.

Julian Spooner Julian Spooner
Maxilgal Maxilgal
 
August Burns arrived at the side of Captain Fogerty, and when the time was right he hailed his attention.

"Good evening, Captain, I would just like to extend a greeting, one serviceman to the other. I am Captain August Burns, 42nd Regiment of Foot, and this is my aide, Sergeant Robert McCullagh." Of course, he extended more than a greeting, but intended to advertise his presence and good nature! Burns hoped that he would gain the introduction of the young woman of the Captain.

"Oh, indeed, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Captain Fogerty, and I do what I can to keep Old Boney off of us with the
Indefatigable."

Foiled--August Burns saw the maiden, Miss Fogerty, go hand in hand with some other chap ( Maxilgal Maxilgal jbreezy jbreezy ). He figured that he had to keep the conversation going for just a moment longer.

"Ah. Have you been at sea lately sir?" August inquired, flicking his eyes towards Miss Fogerty on the dance floor.

He almost scowled--such a question could just as easily be saved for the smoking room. But he reminded himself that he had barely even walked in the door let alone introduced himself, so there was plenty of time, and female acquaintance, in the future. Besides, he thought it only right to introduce himself to Lady Marjorie sooner rather than later--but where was she?

"Absolutely, but here I am for the ball. Perhaps we may elaborate later in the smoking room."

"That sounds like the best course of action. If you'll excuse me..."

August couldn't see Lady Marjorie herself, but he thought he recognized one or two of the Gossage ladies--yet who was this? He turned and began to step towards one of the female attendees ( thumbelinaaa thumbelinaaa ) when he was interrupted by the bonnie Sergeant.

"Sir, shall I follow, or--"

"What did I tell you before, man, it's a ball! Distribute yourself! Enjoy yourself!" With that, Robert practically saluted and disappeared. Then August introduced himself.

"Good evening, I am Captain August Burns, how do you do?" he smiled.
 
It was not without a hint of annoyance that Mariah saw first Miss Fogerty and then Mr Addington excuse themselves, because they were among those whose company she intended to monopolise tonight. Mr Addington, of course, one could never keep entirely to oneself, but Mariah couldn't help but find Miss Fogerty's departure a little rude, as she had made up her mind to take her under her wing. She had in fact been moments away from introducing her to the young gentleman, which would have been an excellent thing for both of them. She mastered her disappointment however, and tried to look attentive to the elder Fogerties and the other guests. It was only Mr Addington's departure that disappointed Annabelle, and she was soothed by his parting smile. She resolved to break away from the guests in the hall as soon as possible and claim the first dance with him for herself.

Both sisters were consoled by the appearance of the younger soldier who greeted Captain Fogerty so heartily. Neither followed much of the military talk that ensued. Mariah was willing to assume an attentive expression and patiently pretend to take some interest. Annabelle would not have bothered with such a performance. But, while she found soldier talk extremely dull, she frequently found soldiers themselves very entertaining. So the younger Miss Gossage lingered, looping her arm with her sister's, and watching intently to ascertain if this soldier was handsome enough, young enough of lively enough to warrant notice. The sisters were soon rewarded by the Captain's attention. The stalwart Mrs Fletcher, who somehow knew everybody, introduced the sisters in a sonorous voice, and Mariah offered here hand brightly.
"Good evening, Captain-" Mariah began, and was only briefly distracted by the brusque exchange between the Captain and his companion. Annabelle giggled openly.
"How long will your stay in --fordshire be?" Mariah recovered
"Are you fresh from the battlefront?" Annabelle asked, offering her own hand with a grin.

During this exchange Mariah had one more minor distraction, for she happened to glance towards the ballroom and see Miss Fogerty and Mr Addington talking. She pursed her mouth a little, piqued that they had made their introductions without her assistance. Unless... They perhaps had met before? Now that she thought about it, Mr Addington did have his little ways... While Mariah didn't think there was any harm in her introducing the two, she didn't like to think of the girl being imposed on in any way, or accidentally doing something improper. She resolved to make another attempt to talk to her later, and then turned her full attention back to the Captain.

jbreezy jbreezy (mentioned)
Maxilgal Maxilgal (mentioned)
Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf (I think you meant me when you wrote rosehearted?)
 
Eliza smiled and turned her attention to her gloves for just a moment.

“You flatter me, Mr. Addington, but I am afraid that I am not much of a dancer.” She looked over and saw the elder Miss Gossage, Mariah, glancing her way. “And I do find it quite abominable to step on someone’s foot mere minutes after they’ve introduced themselves.” Henry had managed to claw away from Ms. Crawford’s friend in time to meet them. “Oh, please. Henry, this is Mr. Thomas Addington. Mr. Addington, this is my brother, Henry Fogerty.” Henry gave out a flashing smile and a quick bow of the head before reaching out to shake Addington’s hand.

“How do you do! I do recognize you though, or at least your name. Pray tell me, are you the second or third eldest? Forgive me I have no talent for faces...No! By god you must be the baby of them all back from school! I’m pleased to have made your acquaintance, for I have heard many good things from your cousin Robert.” His smile widened, and he looked over his shoulder. “Oh dear, it looks like father is making another lifelong friend. A military man by the looks of it. I fear he may be joining us for dinner this week if they continue on like this.”

“He would invite the entire neighborhood if the house was but a little larger.” Eliza smiled at her father’s ways and looked at the man. He certainly was handsome, with a good countenance by the looks of him speaking. She returned her concentration to Mr. Addington. “My father tends to be very hospitable to anyone and everyone he meets. It is sometimes frightening just how many people he knows and how much he knows about them.” Again, Eliza looked around the room, seeing if she recognized anyone else. Of course, the Admiral who was good friends with her father (who wasn’t) and his wife were with the other married individuals. But some of the young ladies and gentlemen she did not recognize. She wondered how many the Gossage’s had invited? The main throw of guests had arrived, and the ballroom had become as it usually does at ball, crowded and stuffy but full of excitement and bright eyes.
( jbreezy jbreezy )
(Mentioned: Julian Spooner Julian Spooner Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf )
 
Thomas did his best to hide his surprise as Miss Fogerty turned down his dance request. He almost managed to succeed. However, a tiny raise of his eyebrow betrayed him, though he looked more amused than anything else. Thomas was not a man who was used to getting turned down by women, especially young and beautiful ones.

Thomas was not easily discouraged though. There were always other young ladies who needed partners. All thought of dancing was gone though as Miss Fogerty introduced him to her older brother, Henry.

Thomas grinned, shaking Mr. Fogerty’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Indeed, I am the youngest son. My eldest brother Charles is here as well, but I’m afraid George got tied up in some business and was unable yo attend tonight.” As Henry directed his attention to his father, Thomas smiled amusedly at the two men, intrigued by the newcomer. He could see the Gossage ladies speaking to him, when Mariah caught his eye across the ballroom, watching him talk to the Fogertys. He grinned broadly, almost laughing at her look of slight disapproval. He knew he should have technically waited to be introduced to Miss. Fogerty by his hostess, but as always, Thomas had a sort of...impatience when it came to pretty women.

“I’ll have to make sure to introduce myself then. I don’t think I’ve met his friend either. But we best proceed with caution. If we’re not careful, he may make all of the ladies swoon with his dashing tales of war.” Thomas said knowingly as he snatched a glass of champagne from a passing servant. Military men were flocked with women at balls and other social events. He could tell that this man may have a similar effect, already noticing that he was attracting stares from some of the female guests.

Maxilgal Maxilgal
Julian Spooner Julian Spooner (mentions)
Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf (mentions)
 
"Oh, forgive my aide. It's only the wee bonnie Sergeant's second ball; he has the good luck and aim of a French Grenadier and his musket to thank for the first I'm afraid! Ah yes, I am still rather fresh from the continent, and I have the good fortune of being in this area for at least a few days. I wouldn't believe for a moment that either of you require detailed descriptions, though. Now, I do believe that I hold--and kiss--" he interrupted himself for the kiss, "Miss Annabelle's hand?" "And..." he shifted to the other sister, "that of Miss Mariah. It's a pleasure!"

August Burns bowed in the customary way, as he finished speaking. Although he was somewhat hesitant to offer a dance on the one hand, he thought it might be even worse, even an affront, not to do so. Then the main problem was that both girls were in front of him at once! Asking one meant leaving the other unaccompanied, or perhaps carried the wrong message! Yet August straightened himself, formulating both the words and tone in his head; or at least what he believed were the right ones.

"Now my lady Annabelle," he leaned in towards her, "I hope you won't begrudge me as I steal away Miss Mariah for my first dance of the evening? She hasn't danced yet, you understand. I'll be back soon!"

( Julian Spooner Julian Spooner ; my last reply was right after my other post, so this one is the requisite three posts! Also Mariah hasn't danced yet, right?)
 
The carriage ride over to the Demarke House was short, and pleasant enough. Silent, Isabella sat beside her father Mr. Nightingale, drifting in and out of a dream like state. Her first ever ball... She could only image what was to await. In her inner eye, she could see herself stepping inside and meeting some fine gentlemen's eye; from there, a spark would flare in her chest, letting her know that This is it! True love. It excited her.

Getting out of the carriage, she clung to her father's arm, if only to stop herself from running up to the front door herself. Her head turned every second as still more guests were arriving.

"Calm down Isabella," Mr. Nightingale said, without even sparing his daughter a glance. As if he could sense her high energy. "Remember what we came here for, yes?" Isabella nodded, barely hearing him.

Heading inside, Isabella stifled a gasp of pleasure, instead gripping her father's arm again which prompted a harsh, "Isabella!" whispered in her ear.


 
Mariah smiled at the invitation. Despite her importance, she was not immune to the flattery of being asked to dance. Glancing around the room she performed a quick calculation. She was aware that, of all the men present, it was her cousin who would lend his partner the most importance. For this reason she had held out hope that she could secure him for the first dance, but his behaviour so far had not given her much encouragement. On the other hand, the newcomer was very handsome, and she was conscious that he was receiving a fair amount of attention. She weighed his novelty, handsomeness, and engaging (if somewhat eccentric) manners against the rank and grave importance of her cousin... and felt a little at a loss. At her side she could sense her sister's chagrin at being passed over to dance. Well, that was as it should be, it would have been abominable for him to ask her younger sister before he asked her.

Annabelle was chagrined, but not defeated. She had decided that Captain Burns was handsome, as well as being a lark, and had decided that she would dance with him to make Addington jealous. Why must she always be passed over, just because she was the younger sister? She tossed her beribboned head petulantly, and caught sight of Sir Rupert meandering stiffly through the crowd.
"Oh look!" she cried impulsively "There's cousin Rupert, looking very glum and stupid, as always. Fancy coming to a ball and not speaking with anyone. Mariah, you can't dance with Captain Burns, surely you must dance with Rupert for the first dance."
Mariah blushed and stammered, not sure how best to respond "Captain, she means our cousin, Sir Rupert Adler" she first explained "and I'm not sure there was a positive engagement for me to dance with... Goodness, I do wish he would speak to somebody and not wander around looking so proud"
Annabelle seized on this opportunity, and seized both her sister's and Captain Burns' hands.
"Come, Captain, we will introduce you to Sir Rupert. You will talk with him and make him more jolly." The young lady charged towards her cousin with a look of gleeful determination on her dimpled face, tugging her weakly protesting sister behind her. In fact, Mariah wasn't sure it was a very terrible idea to introduce the two, and was a little relieved, even if Annabelle was being rather improper.

Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf
Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero (watch out, they're coming your way!)
jbreezy jbreezy (mentioned briefly)
 
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Henry let out a hearty laugh. He seemed to be taking to Mr. Addington very well. Eliza, on the other hand, was intrigued by Miss Annabelle pulling this new comer and her sister towards a very proud looking gentlemen.

“Henry, do you know who that man is?”

“No I do not, I’m afraid. I do believe that half the county was invited to the ball.” Henry gave a swift thank you as he took a glass and a slight sip. “I do find the Miss Gossages very lively hosts, don’t you think?”

“Yes, quite pleasant. Oh, I do believe Mariah is quite adamant to speak to me. If you’ll excuse me.” Eliza gave a small curtsy and headed over to Miss Mariah. The ballroom was thick with bodies as Eliza finally made her way to the handsome gentleman. He was of poor posture, but of all other features he was very striking. The other man, the military lad, was also not lacking in credentials. He had a warm face accentuated by his light golden hair. On closer inspection, Eliza found him agreeable, with a certain light in his eyes that reminded her of her own father’s likeability. She fell in line near Mariah, not wanting to barge into the conversation, and mostly to observe the two gentlemen. She was very much afraid she had ruined her chances with Mr. Addington by turning down his offer, and now she was terrified of dancing with another man in the case Mr. Addington might feel slighted. She made a mental note to find a friend of her age who might make sense of this. Preferably Miss Mariah, as she seemed slightly more grounded than her younger sister. Eliza put that to age.

( jbreezy jbreezy )
(Mentioned: Julian Spooner Julian Spooner Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero )
 
Charlotte de Courcy sat next to her father in the carriage. Her brother was not with them tonight. He had made up some excuse about being ill, but Charlotte knew him all too well. She knew he detested these sorts of things, and would often make up any sort of excuse to get out of it. Charlotte was practically bursting with excitement. She was sure that would change when she got there. She was rather nervous in large groups, but still, the thought of a ball excited her.

"My dear, you must calm down," said her father. He seemed amused. In his eyes, Charlotte could do nothing wrong.

"Darling Papa, you do know how hard it is for me on such nights," said Charlotte, looking out the window and seeing the manor appear. Her smile widened as it came closer and closer into view.

She was wearing a pretty dress made of pale pink muslin, with a white sash around the empire waist. It looked like it had cost a lot of money, and it had. Her father spoiled her, giving her only the best of the best. She was wearing white satin gloves and her hair was done in an updo with a few curls hanging down.

She let out a sigh of delight as the carriage came to a stop and the door opened. Her father was the first to exit and he offered his hand for Charlotte to follow. The two began to make their way towards the house. She felt butterflies in her stomach as the two walked in and were announced. She was rather nervous about being surrounded by so many people and that beaming smile that she had worn throughout the ride seemed to falter. She didn't exactly know what to do. She was eagar to be asked to dance. However, she didn't exactly know how to approach people. Throughout most of her life, the most of her company had been her father, her brother, and her governess.

While her intentions were to get married, and have a large brood of children. She didn't know how that would happen if she had trouble speaking to a man. Still, she had her hopes that she might meet the man who would one day be her husband tonight.
 
As Miss Fogerty excused herself, Thomas turned to Henry. It seemed both of the siblings were intrigued with the newcomer, who was now being fawned over by the Gossage ladies. Thomas didn’t think the other man was that impressive. So far, all he had done was sulk along the perimeter, avoiding talking to anyone. However, being gone for years would enhance the mystery of anyone.

“That gentleman over there would be the Gossage ladies’ cousin. It has been quite some time since he has been here. Since we were children, I believe.” Thomas was suddenly accosted with the scent of cigar smoke and a hand on his shoulder.

“You couldn’t have been more than four since we last saw him.” Charles said, then introduced himself to Henry. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with you Thomas.” Thomas smiled apologetically at Henry before he was steered away by his elder brother.

“It’s about time we’ve asked ladies to dance, don’t you think?” Charles asked as the brothers exchanged a knowing look. Mrs. Addington was not shy about voicing her feelings about how she wanted all of her sons to settle down and find wives, sooner rather than later. Charles had taken it a bit better than Thomas. Although where Charles had enthusiasm, he lacked in charm, often stiff and overly formal with the ladies. Thomas had the other problem, which usually got him into more trouble.

“It’s not for lack of trying.” Thomas complained. Normally, he’d have already danced with at least two women. All he had tonight was two glasses of champagne. “Come, it looks as though we may have our chance.” He added, noticing two young ladies had just arrived, both with their fathers.

Thomas and Charles approached the young ladies. “Good evening.” Charles began, addressing their fathers first. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I am Mr. Charles Addington, and this is my younger brother, Mr. Thomas Addington.”

Thomas smiled, shaking the mens’ hands, before kissing each of the ladies’ hands carefully. Both ladies seemed eager to be here. Thomas had no doubt they would be willing to dance. He found himself across from the young lady in the pink gown, while Charles was introducing himself to the other lady. Both were absolutely stunning and would make excellent dance partners.

“Do you ladies enjoy dancing? I would be honored to be your first dance of the night.” Thomas said, giving the young lady in pink a broad smile. “Of course, if you gentlemen don’t mind?” He looked toward the fathers, remembering his manners. It was a constant struggle to curb his brashness in public but luckily he was able to redeem himself with charm and good social skills. His brother on the other hand, was becoming stiff and a little too formal for a bachelor at a ball.

SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful
thumbelinaaa thumbelinaaa
Maxilgal Maxilgal
Julian Spooner Julian Spooner (mentions)
Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero (mentions)
 
Mary stood before the vanity in her room with a hilarious pout that signalled her dissatisfaction at the way her blue crepe dress over the satin slip hugged her figure, unable to place what was truly the matter. The small pearls that adorned the hems as well as sewn to design its meek colours looked rather pretty, and one of her gloved fingers played with one of the smooth beads as she considered the woman in the mirror, sure it was satisfactory for the current event at the Denmarke House. She could not, however, dismiss the feeling that the night ahead would be of a different hue from the previous balls and parties she insisted on attending. After taking a few more moments to finger the bead, she finally stood rigid and straightened her "full dress", mimicking the stiff nature of politeness that accompanied all the fine ladies that would most likely be of attendance.

"A pleasant evening to you," she greeted her parallel, who likewise copied the movement of her lips. Almost at once, she bursted out laughing. Dear Lord, she looked to herself rather ridiculous, and she continued to grace her silent room with the sound of her laughter.

A knock on her door interrupted her solitary merriment. "Mary, do tell me you are quite alright," came the muffled voice of the man on the other side, his tone hinting of both worry and amusement at the misplaced laughter of a woman alone in her room, daring not to breech her territory despite the closeness of their persons. With a snort to herself, Mary trotted over to the door and flung it open, a huge grin upon her face as she placed a hand on the door frame, leaning upon it as if in the process of seduction. "How do I look, monsieur?" came her question, doing her best to give him that devious face of a woman with a secret.

"Ghastly," replied her cousin once he had examined her from head to toe, his expression betraying nothing to her, until he added "You look too normal, are you feeling well?"

Mary could not help but laugh once more, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. Her cousin James - or as she would refer to him this evening, Mr. Norrington - chuckled along, the fullness of his contentment in his eyes rather than the echoing baritone. He had just put on his tailcoat, its dark blue hue wishing to compliment her own attire, and he was pulling at the ends of his sleeves consciously. James Norrington was a handsome man, albeit in his forties, tall and strong as consequence of genes and careful observation of his diet. A widow, unfortunately, with his only daughter leaving him to elope with some pretty fellow of the regiment. He had arrived earlier that day to deliver to her current residence the last of those exquisite silk Chinese dresses that had 'just so happened' to be in her luggage on their way back from the East, and now he found himself being dragged to a ball - more than he bargained for, obviously.

"Dear cousin," he began again, taking a more casual tone as the ice was already broken. "Of all the peculiarities the world possesses, I am troubled to say this is... indeed, the most peculiar. After all these years of excitement, I find you dressing and behaving in refined society the oddest." His impression on the word 'refined' has led Mary to just smile back at him slyly.

"You should have been around when father was still alive, I was all proper then," she mused, a pretty frown caressing her brows, pulling down at the ends of his waist coat to help him. "Quit your fretting, you're wrinkling it more." James sighed in exasperation and let his arms fall free at his sides, visibly trying to calm himself. Mary rolled her eyes.

"You're beautiful, Mary," he said.

"What?" she nearly scoffed, distracted by the cravat, wishing to apply the complicated knot she once asked a gentleman to teach her. He mentioned something about rank, but Mary could not remember.

"Of course you aren't ghastly. See, you even done up your hair," James replied sardonically, but that was his way when he meant it. At least, that was how he was with her. "And don't you let people about tell you otherwise, hear?"

Mary tightened the knots as if threatening to choke him with it. "Why, of course Mr. Norrington, if it please you." She giggled, mocking a haughty countenance as she raised her chin up at her taller companion. He in turn looked down at her with his usual sarcastic air, some of his salt and pepper hair freeing themselves from what Mary assumed was hasty combing to tame the thick mane. Their banter was mostly queer looks and body language more than they were words.

"I never thought these mundane activities the high class use to amuse themselves are of interest to you," confided James as they prepared to set out, his carriage already wheeling beyond the fence. "I had taken you for a woman of grander exploits, and guessed the routine would bore you."

"On the contrary," Mary says as she carefully patted her light brown hair, keeping most of the strands in place. "The company of this tightly knit town is interesting."

"Everything is to you." Apparently, Mary uses that word to describe almost anything. "Isn't it exhausting?"

"I'm not as old as you are. Not yet."

A silence befell them as James helped Mary up the carriage, and gave word to the coach that they are to be off. "Settling in a quiet place after the exhilaration of possibilities has its own merits, cousin," Mary explained. "Now see here, how..."

James interrupted her. It would be considered rude to interrupt, he said, but continued to his point anyway. "I know what you want to say, spare me. That is your sense of wishing to be a part of a... a group creeping up on you. It happens; as you know, our dear England has expectations of its citizens, and the culture to shape how fine folk aught to be is of high, though strict, importance. It is, indeed. But I will not have it that you lose yourself."

"A worry wart, as always."

James grinned. Ah, who was he kidding. Mary needs to be shaken hard if she should be shaken at all. Mary groaned as she listened to him go on about shooing her away from her father's estate - by inheritance, it was to go to him after all, seeing as she was... well, a she - should there be compliance on her part to take the shape demanded of her merely by being a lady in England.

-

The carriage slowed down and smoothed out to indicate their arrival at a lavish residence that could only be their destination. Mary poked her head out to view the house from their vantage point. "Sit down, you'll catch your head on a branch or other." She grudgingly sat back down.

Their compartment door opened a few moments after they had stopped by the entrance to Lady Marjorie's abode, a footman holding it for them to exit comfortably. After helping her down, making sure her dress would not tangle or graze the dirt unnecessarily, Mr. James Norrington escorted Miss Mary Delacroix to the hall, where their presence was announced. They were greeted by a throng of guests that were already engaged in conversation and activity, and a lack of a hostess that were to welcome them inside. Mary did not seem to notice as she scanned familiar and unfamiliar faces, but James made sure she did, muttering "It is customary to be greeted by the hosts at the door. We've come on time, haven't we? Are we too late? The hour you told me was precisely this minute."

"Oh, don't be so sour, cousin!" Mary shrugged. "It's their ball, they're probably out and about enjoying it!"

"Well, you appear to be in quite the mood to dig right in to enjoying it as well."

She was. "There are a number of people new to me, they must be special guests of the Lady Marjorie! Circulation of their persons must have already been in motion, people tend to know so much about other people. I reckon it is the ripe moment for eavesdropping."

"And here I thought you would just talk to them, how delusional of me."

Mary had her hand on the fold of James' arm as they entered through the hall. She has already received a couple of poorly concealed looks of disapprobation in her direction as they did, but she kept that winning smile of hers unfazed. She caught bits and pieces of conversation, her ears sharp to catch names she has yet to hear, getting a few names. Most popular among them, it seemed, was a certain Mr. Rupert -

Before she could hear the rest of the name, she noticed her cousin was pulling her over to the smoking room instinctively. Suddenly a bit horrified, her eyes widening, she stopped in her tracks and gripped James' arm like a vice grip. He whirled back to face her, a questioning brow already up. Mary shook her head cautiously. Slowly, James began to see the light of his actions, and reddened. Mary found herself blaming tea and opium, but refrained, and instead led him away to gather at the ballroom.

They were in a rapt, striking silence with each other after that little incident, which to Mary was rather swell. She got to hear many and more as she passed along the crowd, their voices reaching her unnoticed by the people that own the voices. He smiled as she glanced over at their little town's famous rake Thomas Addington asking for a dance, as usual. Over yonder with him was whom she recognised to be the Fogerty's, the de Coursy's, and the Nightingale's, the youth already in full swing. It was an amusing sight, but it lasted only some seconds before Mary turned her attention elsewhere - to the already dancing individuals, the merry hens in their efforts to introduce young daughters to accomplished gentlemen, a lost-looking officer wishing to blend in a crowd of his own, and the Gossage sisters appearing to be walking toward a corner where a lonesome man stood - perhaps their target to acquaint with another officer they already had in tow.

Mary noticed her cousin last of all, and on his face was a horrid look of boredom. It was funny to look at.

"There are the Gossages, if you wish to greet them. But tell you what, cousin," she stated, catching his attention. "Let's see if we can make this ball, and the morning after, more enjoyable for you. I dare you to ask every married woman to dance, and get smitten."

James looked incredulous. "You're mad!"

"Only serious." She flashed him her most convincing grin, as if challenging him.

James was a competitive man, old as he might be to the eyes of many. "How like you to come up with the most controversial courses of action."

Mary turned her head forward in triumph. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Julian Spooner Julian Spooner jbreezy jbreezy Maxilgal Maxilgal Winter_Wolf Winter_Wolf Generic Brooding Antihero Generic Brooding Antihero thumbelinaaa thumbelinaaa SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful (All mentioned, they're mostly in the last block paragraph, if you don't want to read all of it.)
 
Charlotte looked around the ballroom, hoping that someone would spot her and ask her for a dance. She had been to so few balls, and she loved them all, always having a wonderful time at them. She was excited to be at another one. She always considered them to be such fun, even if she did have a tendency to be a little nervous around such a large crowd.

A pink blush painted Charlotte's cheek as the gentlemen approached. The blush only deepened as her hand was kissed. She had always been a bashful one, especially around men. She curtsied politely and when she looked up, there was an eager smile on her face.

At the offer of a dance, she looked to her father, giving him a hopeful smile. She looked so excited and so eager. She had always been one to enjoy dancing, and she was very good, however, she seldom got the chance to dance at balls. Her father could seldom, if ever, say no to her. She seemed to have him wrapped around her finger. At her father's nod, Charlotte's smile widened and she turned to Thomas.

"I would be ever so delighted to dance with you, sir," said Charlotte happily. She was barely able to contain her excitement.

jbreezy jbreezy
 
Hardly any time had passed before some men had approached, a pair of brothers it looked like, and Isabella could feel her heart flutter. She looked at her father, who cleared his throat.

"Pleased to make the acquaintance of you both. I'm sure my daughter would like a dance with you." Isabella slipped her arm away from her father's, quite quickly. She stepped in front of Charles, looking up at him eagerly. She sure did feel special, being picked by the older brother. Quietly, Mr. Nightingale slipped off towards the area where everyone else danced, to get a good spot to watch his daughter at.

Now, Isabella had never danced with anyone before, but this was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. Instead, she started to go a little bit inside her head, imagining her and Charles dancing late into the night. Her vision would blur and soon she could see her entire future splayed out in front of her. She couldn't help but sigh.

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