01-06-2013, 05:34 AM
"Well, if it isn't Mischief himself." Della planted her hands on her hips and eyed the well-dressed rogue. Well-dressed by Della's standards, anyway. Those of his own rank would be appalled at such clothing. "Genna, this is Mischief. You'd probably be smarter to stay away from him."
"How do you do, Mr... Mischief." Genna curtsied, glad for the excuse to look down and hide her blushes. She'd never had a man look at her that way before... especially not one of her own class. She recognized him. It wasn't difficult, really, as the heir of Pewter was one of the few non-relatives she'd met. So I'm not the only one who goes out... who gets tired of the rules and routines. I wonder if I should tell him...
Meanwhile, Della was considering being insulted by Mischief's easy addition of Genna to the party, but only briefly. She was a professional, and Genna's innocence would never be able to hold the bold man's attention. Besides, Della was confident in the superiority of her bright green taffeta and carefully bleached and arranged hair over the other girl's brown homespun and unbound curls. Granted, the taffeta was water-stained and ill-fitting, but that didn't reduce it at all in Della's eyes. The internal catalogue of her advantages was cut off abruptly when she realized Genna was still talking to Mischief.
"I loved the music they were playing... do you know of anywhere else they play anything like that?"
|