Freedom - freedom was such a strange concept and as abstract and confusing as any spell she had learned in Hogwarts. When she was a simple bakers daughter she had thought freedom could be found in money - but now, with enough money for her to comfortably do nothing, or indeed anything she might care do, she was trapped by expectations and a society which thought that girls with a certain amount of money ought to behave in certain ways. once freedom would have been marrying Handsome Whitledge, but now that life seemed like a trap more terrible than the jaws of a tiger. How she would have loved the life this man had, and the thought of it almost broke her heart.

She watched him intently as he gazed off into the great wide somewhere, imagining all the places and people that were his to meet and visit. When his attention returned to her, she looked away hurriedly, trying to mask her emotions with a steadying breath and a sudden interest in the mullions of the window. Where was her adventure? That was the million galleon question wasn't it? Was it with Ana, and her plans to marry Madeleine to the first Russian gentleman who'd have her, or was there another option? If she was free to follow her own heart she would run off to darkest Peru to the temples of the Incas, or the deserts of Jordan to the ancient city of Petra, or anywhere where she wasn't a meal ticket or an upstart bakers daughter. When she spoke her voice was a little thick with emotion.

'No' she managed, with a slightly weak smile, 'not a Jaguar perhaps, but something more than dinner parties and balls, and the occasional chat with interesting people' she indicated him, as the interesting person, 'More perhaps than is proper for a debutante to want', she didn't think of herself as a debutante, because she didnt feel like one, she felt like a fraud. How candid could she dare to be with a complete stranger? Would he think her odd, or pathetic, or worse be offended?

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Arven regarded her sympathetically. He appreciated he was almost disgustingly privileged; not in terms of wealth (because in that he was mostly lacking), but in being a healthy, hardy man who was quite at liberty to do as he pleased, judgements be damned.

"Go on..." he gently encouraged her to elaborate. There was nothing forceful in his tone, of course; she did not have to share. But sometimes Arven Fisk was as good a listener as he was a storyteller. "There's nothing wrong with dreams. And sometimes they really do come true."

  

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She didn't look at him when he prompted - couldn't was perhaps a little more accurate. Her gaze setteled on his hand wraped around his glass. 'I want to travel' she managed, her voice low so that there was no risk of being over heard by Ana who she was keenly aware was keeping an eye on her from across the room. 'Not this sort of gentele swanning' she clarified, gesturing with her head to the assembled party. 'But more than that, experiencing real people, real things, their real lives.'

Her gaze travelled around the room, 'This could be any stuffy drawing room, in any country of the world' she explained, 'I've been a dozen already this season, and I've a dozen more to come' she tried not to allow her voice to sound too glum, but it did. She gave a tired little sigh, and her gaze setteled back on her lap again, 'But then such is life isn't it?' She had said too much she was sure, the dashing adventurer with his exciting stories would leave this dinner with the story of the sad little bakers daughter playing at being a debutante. Another sigh forced itself from her mouth. 'I suppose we cannot all have such excitement in our lived' she forced a smile that didn't extend to her eyes.

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Poor thing, she seemed almost to wilt at the thought of her dreams being snuffed out before they could begin. But even though dreams could be painful, Arven truly did believe that they were crucial to a happy heart. Dreams... and risk.

"Nothing is beyond your reach, I promise you that — it just seems like such a great distance sometimes." He got the impression her family did not help much with that. They likely gave her the impression that her box was far smaller than it really was.

"Earlier this year, in the summer, the Church of Saint Fergus headed a mission trip to Africa. Itchy-footed that I am, I decided to join the voyage — and I'll tell you, my girl, there were all sorts of people on that expedition. Young women like yourself included. Perhaps that might be something to consider — philanthropy could be your path to becoming a traveller. Charity is considered... ladylike, after all", he added a little blandly. But he was right; if the Kozlova family demanded their daughter engage only in feminine pursuits, nobody could deny that charity was considered feminine.

  

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She took a deep breath, trying to shake away the melancholy that threatened to over take her. It was time like this that she understood why Maggie had eloped with Mister Byrne - there was a freedom that came from being wed that had nothing to do with love or affection, although she did assume that her sister loved the man she had saw fit to be disowned for. But perhaps he was right, perhaps there were some ways she could travel, it wouldn't be the same, but then how could it be, trying to change the way someone lived wasnt the same as living it herself, but then she had long ago learned the art of compromising what she wanted with what society expected.


Her mask of propriety back in place, the girl who wanted to ride flying carpets over the deserts of Moroco, or encounter a jaguar of her own in the amazon was buried behind a mask of polite society and social graces. 'Yes well...Thank you for indulging me Mister Fisk' she managed through the smile that didn't extend to her eyes, 'for the story...and' she struggeled to name the other service, listening to her moan?allowing her to vent? 'the other' she finished lamely, cocking her head to one side. She hesitated a moment and then finally met his eyes her own a little more earnest, and pleading than she would have liked, and without thinking placed her free hand over his. 'Please, I know that I prevailed upon our mutual acquaintance of your cousin in our introduction, and please don't think ill of me, but I'd ask that you not mention seeing me here, or...' she glanced casually at where Ana stood and then back to him, her blue eyes meeting his deep green ones, 'what I've confessed, I have much to be thankful for and...' she couldn't make herself finish, she felt as if she did she might just burst into tears, the exact sort of spectacle she didn't want.

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Either drawn by the disapproving eyes of her family, or put off by her own spilling of her soul, Miss Kozlova wrapped up their conversation with a rather uncharacteristic briskness and prepared to make her farewells. Arven understood. He certainly couldn't relate... but he understood.

It was a shame that she made no comment on his suggestion of philanthropy abroad, for he really did think this a viable and realistic path to her dream. But it seemed even this was too much to imagine at the moment. Perhaps the adventurer had been a little too indulgent; but he hoped his encouragements would lead to something good.

Wishing to end their meeting on a light-hearted note, Arven replied with a smile; "if you promise not to tell anyone about my embarrassing mistake with the jaguar."

  

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Maddie managed half of a smile at his comment, 'Promise' she weakly. She stood from her place on the window seat and offered him a curtsy before moving away. Ana watched her go, looking pleased but when she didn't stop before reaching the door and going through the Russian woman followed her, shooting daggers at Fisk.

In the carriage home Maddie leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the carriage window and watched the darkened city roll past, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were full of tears and she didn't dare blink or they would be sent spilling down her cheeks - so she just stared into the darkness. Her mood was her own fault she knew, she had asked him to tell her everything, and he had, and it had been wonderful. More than she had imagined, better than she had hoped, but now it was as far away as childhood. She didn't even hear Ana complain about how dim Maddie's prospects would be if she kept sitting in windows with rogues rather than speaking to the eligible young man she had arranged for her to sit next to at dinner.

Madeleine closed her eyes and tried very hard to dream of Jaguars.

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