Dec 31, 1894 - Foxwood Estate, Bath (Imperial New Years Celebration Ball)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?This year had been a whirlwind that had moved so fast, Basil wasn’t even really sure where time had gone or what had happened. He’d become less keen on New Years Eve celebrations these past few years, what with that chaos with his cousin, Gus, and the blowback that had resulted from both— but he supposed it was still a new beginning. A time to look back at one’s follies and try to resign oneself to being better the next year. And while his keenness had faded on family traditions and the like, he was still obligated as a Foxwood to attend this year’s celebration in Bath.
For the first time since his father’s death, his mother had deigned to throw a winter-themed ball to ring in 1895. (A note that had been made with less than subtle hints which made Basil rather suspect it was more coincidence or convenience her not choosing this date to host a ball in past years, rather than any actual ties to their father.) Nonetheless, he was obligated to attend and it was in his best finery and a too-tight cravat that the brunette made his way into the parlor hall.
The decorations were spectacular, even in Basil’s own rather uninterested esteem. The inspiration had been some imperial court or another and as such, the ballroom at Bath had been transformed with rich, opulent fabrics, Fabergé egg displays, snow-covered fir trees, and plush furs. He and his family had been instructed to wear deep jewel tones so Basil had opted for a dark blue. (He’d left the fur-lined cloak his mother had suggested by the wayside, feeling it a bit too… something for his tastes.) There were ballet performances throughout the evening and - perhaps the only really interesting facet as far as Basil himself was concerned - a caviar station that had been brought in from the Caspian Sea. (He quite liked caviar, actually.)
The dancers were in full-swing this late in the evening as Basil made his way along the perimeter of the ogling crowd towards a server. He was in search of more champagne. The ballroom just alongside was atwirl with skirts and trousers all moving in tune to a dramatic-sounding waltz he was grateful to have avoided. Reaching then for the very object of his interest, Basil’s hand collided with another and he looked up to find Anthony aiming for the same glass. He withdrew his hand and inclined his head awkwardly towards his cousin. “Please, have it,” he murmured quietly. He’d taken quite enough from this particular relative of late.
Sybella Capobianco et. al. me.
