[Felicity Staunton (Betsy)]

After breakfast, Felicity settled into what she considered the most tedious of all tasks to befall a lady - taking callers. One was always prey to whomever happened to show up. Oh, it was perfectly acceptable to turn away anyone with whom you did not wish to see, but what about those people who might just be slightly boring? Or the ones who stared at you too long? Or what if they had a strange overbite, or breathed through their mouth, or talked only of tedious things? It wasn't as simple as supposed, and Felicity felt this keenly as she sat on the settee.

It was a beautiful day anyway. Felicity thought she might go to the park for a walk - take advantage of some fresh air. There would be tea with Lady Rosalind and Lady Louth later - and THAT she was very much looking forward to, and their opinions regarding her partners for the ball.

All the same, she took up her embroidery and tried not to heave a sigh. It wasn't good ton, and she did not want a lecture from Aunt Demelza, again.


((Feel free to have your characters call, if they so desire and would have that acquaintanceship with either Felicity or Demelza. Contact Vikki or I if you want to discuss.))

[Mark Fotherington (Shar)]

Mark had managed to resist sending a bouquet of Lady's Slippers to Miss Staunton's home, though the thought had amused him almost enough to make it worthwhile.
In the end, it had seemed more sensitive to the lady's feelings to send a flower less fraught with meaning, and he had done so. Calling on her would be even more appropriate.
He had taken no real harm from their spill, just a slight redness to his palm, already subsiding, and knees, which no one but himself need know about. The ball itself had been exhausting, and he was considering missing the next Almack's. If only Hugh wasn't there to comment upon it... he needed an excuse.
In any case, here he was at Mrs. Quartermaine's residence, and it was his duty to make himself pleasant company for the next quarter-hour.

[Felicity Staunton (Betsy)]

Felicity looked up when Charles brought in a small calling card. She took it off the tray and, without realizing, frowned a bit at the name.

"Mr. Fotherington," she informed Aunt Demelza, taking care to sound much lighter than she felt. Her mind raced back to the mortification of falling in front of everyone at the Emerson ball. If she had only fallen herself, the embarrassment would have been hers alone. But she had pulled Mr. Fotherington down with her, and so the embarrassment was doubled for the both of them. More than anything, she was worried about what he thought of her, despite all her assurances to herself that it didn't signify.

She looked to Aunt Demelza for affirmation, steeling herself. She was no green girl. She could handle this.

[Demelza Quartermaine (Vikki)]

"Indeed," Demelza replied, setting aside her book. "Do try not to look so troubled, Felicity. It is not very becoming, and Mr Fotherington has shown himself to be a perfect gentleman over Sunday evening's misfortune. It would not do to remind him of the matter if he wishes to gloss over it."

As the gentleman entered, she rose with her niece to greet him. "Mr Fotherington. Welcome."

[Mark Fotherington (Shar)]

"Mrs. Quartermaine," Mark said, with the appropriate bow. "Miss Staunton. I hope I find you well this morning?"
They certainly looked it. Well, Mrs. Quartermaine was forever unchanging, Miss Staunton looked slightly uncomfortable--oddly like Hugh in his newly-unfitted uniform.

(It took me HOW long to write this two-liner?!)

[Felicity Staunton (Betsy)]

Felicity only frowned more at her aunt's remarks, which forced her to consciously smooth her visage into something a bit less troubled. It wouldn't do to sit looking like a thunderstorm. As the door opened, she folded her hands and hoped to God her countenance looked serene.

She inclined her head to him as he bowed. "Mr. Fotherington. I am very well, thank you, I hope we find you the same." She seated herself with Aunt Demelza, deferring to her aunt for conversation.

[Demelza Quartermaine (Vikki)]

He at least did not look any paler or thinner than he had since arriving in London, so in a moment of tact, Demelza set aside her planned lecture on taking care of one's health and not allowing stubbornness to go too far. Besides, he had allowed a day to pass, so there was every chance he had spent the previous day quietly, in which case she would be preaching to the converted, which she very much disliked to do. If one had to preach, at least it should not be a wasted effort.

"I suppose you will take tea, Fotherington?" she asked in a tone that suggested he had no choice in the matter. She did hope that the young pair did not spend too long discussing the ball, being frankly bored with hearing the same phrases over and over again, and yet it was an ideal opportunity to reiterate how well her niece danced (usually) and how fresh and pretty she had looked. Felicity seemed uninclined to begin conversation, however. "I trust you enjoyed the ball as much as Felicity did?"

[Mark Fotherington (Shar)]

"Thank you," Mark said, upon being told he was having tea. Well, and what was wrong with tea? It would give him something to do with his hands rather than just twitch them about aimlessly under the older lady's gaze.
"It was an excellent evening," he said, as always reaching for anything just a bit /different/ to say, to prove he was really listening. "The Marchioness is a consummate hostess." He had to wonder, though, about 'enjoying the ball as much as Felicity'. Considering Miss Staunton's mishap, it seemed unlikely that it would be her favored event of the season. "And the dances were most enjoyable." He barely managed to avoid calling them memorable, as that would probably not sit well with Miss Staunton. Or Mrs. Quartermaine, for that matter.

[Felicity Staunton (Betsy)]

"Yes, indeed, I enjoyed the evening very much," Felicity added. And it was true, she had enjoyed the vast majority of the evening...beyond the several mishaps she had suffered. She just barely resisted apologizing yet again for tripping and falling - she highly doubted it was good manners to be forever begging forgiveness for things that would be better left forgotten.

"Did Major Fotherington enjoy the evening? I suppose they do not have such elegant affairs on campaign."

[Mark Fotherington (Shar)]

Hugh had seemed a bit out of place, to be honest, but appeared to enjoy himself nonetheless. Was Miss Staunton yet another of the Spare's victims? It seemed he would have to move quickly if he were to beat his little brother to the altar--and keep the girl from laying eyes on Hugh until after the wedding!
Perhaps he could be persuaded to wear a veil at the wedding. A handsome one, in uniform colors, of course.
He fought a sudden urge to grin like a lunatic at the image, and then fought the contortions his face would go into in order to defeat the grin. All in all it seemed forever before he could reply. "I am quite certain they do not. Although perhaps a few marchionesses is precisely what the Continent needs."
MRS. QUARTERMAINE IN THE ROOM!
"That is to say, a good dose of British sense would do the Continent quite a lot of good." He nodded, hoping he had made it out of that little quagmire. What on earth was wrong with him? "The Major enjoyed the ball immensely, and hopes to attend several more while he is in London. He sent me with his regards." This was not, strictly speaking, true, but... well. It had some bearing on reality. 'Better you than me,' he believed the words had been. 'Do enjoy yourself.'