January 30th, 1891 — Exhibition of Art Ball

Ford hadn't been particularly a fan of this art exhibit when he'd visited it yesterday, and he was not finding the art any more compelling today. It was not the time of year when they could be afford to be skipping balls; there weren't an abundance of invitations at this time of year, particularly for dancing, and he couldn't let Verity miss an opportunity to trounce around the room trying to fill up her dance card. For his own part he would have preferred to have skipped it; he'd been feeling awkward about parties since his mortifying conversation with Begonia Belby late last month, and the way he'd fumbled the ending of his conversation with Dorian Fisk yesterday he was not particularly hopeful for getting through this event without further embarrassment. He'd expected parties to be one of the least tiresome parts of this entire experience of trying to get the girls married, particularly compared to having to spend free nights lurking around Black's, but much to his surprise the opposite seemed to be true.

He had wandered by the still life from the day before and let his eyes drift up to the portrait of the woman in the toga — apparently now firmly attached to her position on the wall — as he pondered what to do with himself for the evening. Hovering too closely over Verity would only hinder her ability to talk with anyone, but Noble was in a peculiar mood tonight, and Ford had yet to see any of his friends so far that evening.

As he was considering, he walked by one of the statues that had been moved to clear room for the dance floor — an animated statue, it appeared, though he hadn't been aware of that before. The marble lion roared noiselessly at him and swiped angrily at his coat sleeve, causing Ford to startle and jump backwards directly into whomever had been walking behind him.

"Oh — sorry — I was being attacked by a lion," he said as he turned to see whose foot he had just smashed beneath his own.

  

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Set by Lady!

Begonia did not care for art. Yes it was well made. Yes lots of skill went into it. But everyone was forced to endure art lessons from governesses. They could all paint a pretty picture. Begonia was only ever particularly impressed by paintings that spoke. Hogwarts had many impressive paintings -they were certainly interested at the very least.

It was perhaps her natural state, to be stood at the edge of the ball trying not to frown too much as she fanned herself. She studied the ball, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. She had danced a fair bit that evening, and when dancing with a pleasant partner - Begonia adored dancing. However, having to smile politely as some slimy widower old enough to be her grandfather clumsily danced about her was not her idea of fun. Nor did she think it was anybody's idea of fun.

Begonia took a sharp intake of breath and exclaimed an "Ow!" as someone stood on her foot. Her eyes full of daggers, she turned to glare at the person who had so rudely stepped on her foot. The glare however dropped from her face immediately when she saw who the perpetrator was. Fortitude Greengrass.

Normally, Begonia was quite good at plastering a smile upon her face and pretending to be sweet. It could have been the pain her foot was in, or her deep burning desire to never speak to Fortitude Greengrass again after making such a fool of herself before, but she did not quite manage. With a wide, almost grimace-like smile, all she managed to say was, "Mr Greengrass."

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A bit of the color in Ford's cheeks drained as he realized who it was he'd just unceremoniously run into. "Miss Belby," he said. He thought, speak of the devil, since he'd been remembering their last interaction only a moment ago — but that phrasing was rather unkind, even for just an internal consideration. Miss Belby had done nothing wrong. The fault had been entirely his, and if he'd just been a little more clued in to what was going on he might have saved her a good deal of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. He meant about the last party, but he realized as he spoke that bringing it up wouldn't be the best idea, so instead he gestured at the lion statue again. "It's, ah, not very well suited to parties with close quarters." And neither am I, he thought rather uselessly.

  

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Set by Lady!

Of course. Of course this had happened to her. Of all the people she could have run into - well, who could have run into her - it was Fortitude Greengrass.

Her initial reaction was to stick her nose proudly in the air and fan herself. Although, all that did was remind her of her last interaction with Mr Greengrass. She immediately closed her fan, and drew back into herself. The embarrassment still haunted her. It surged through her, and she had to focus hard on not reacting, as all of her mind was filled with the desire to scream, run, and then hide.

"I suppose I cannot be too upset," she replied haughtily, as she avoided eye contact "Enchanted lion sculptures surely are not an ideal addition to busy events."

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"No," Ford agreed. She was being very careful not to look at him too much, which made him feel quite wretched about their last conversation. She'd been so bubbly and cheerful before; either she must have been very keen to make a good impression on him before (for some unfathomable reason) or she was especially mortified now. Probably the latter; he'd spent enough time being awkward and feeling embarrassed he thought he recognized the signs.

"Are you enjoying your evening?" he asked. He wished there was something he could say to make her feel more at ease, since all of the awkwardness before had been entirely his fault, but he couldn't think of what.

  

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Set by Lady!

Oh Merlin. They were making small talk. Could she not just turn and walk away and hide from him behind some statue? No. And she knew she couldn't. Being a polite and demure debutante had never been Begonia's strong suit - but she had to at least abide by social convention. And it wasn't the nicest thing to do - and Mr Greengrass had done nothing wrong to her. She couldn't be mean to him for no reason. Begonia Belby was never mean for no reason.

"Yes, I am," Begonia said truthfully, feeling herself relax ever so slightly, "I do enjoy coming to events. Dancing, music, conversation." Perhaps that should not have been her choice of word. This conversation was perhaps not what she enjoyed so much. "Everything I enjoy." she added, forcing a small smile upon her face.

After finishing, she awkwardly looked upon him for too long. She needed to say something, and she needed to think of something to say quickly.

"Are you having a nice evening?" she asked, merely throwing his question back at him.

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The following 1 user Likes Begonia Belby's post:1 user Likes Begonia Belby's post
   Reuben Crouch

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This was bad. She was trying too hard, and if even he could tell she must have been in real agony over there. He felt terrible to have inflicted such discomfort on her, particularly because if he had been a little more socially aware this might all have been avoided. So, rather than launching into another banality and lying about how much he enjoyed these sorts of things, he decided to tell the truth instead.

"I never know what to do with myself at these sorts of parties," he admitted, edging away from the lion as it silently roared again (and consequently edging slightly closer to Miss Belby, though he hadn't noticed that). "I'm not at all used to having a debutante to watch out for. I suppose it'll be even worse this summer, when there's two of them. I don't know whether I'll survive it."

  

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Set by Lady!

Begonia again felt the tension from her body relax by some miniscule amount as she spoke. Mr Greengrass clearly was an amiable man. She supposed she did not need to literally run away from him. Although she had not yet ruled it out.

"I am sure it will all be fine," Begonia replied, still rather stiff, "They will catch somebody's eye and charm them, and then before long you shall have plenty of married sisters." She was partly just saying this to be polite, but she supposed it was true too.

"Besides, they can't have any worse luck than me!" she added, with a genuine laugh. This was perhaps the only thing she had said so far that had not been utterly awkward.

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Ford was genuinely surprised to hear her say that she'd had bad luck, and did not immediately think that she might be referring to him when she spoke. She was so outgoing and so personable — how could she not have a line of suitors standing by? If Miss Belby wasn't able to catch anyone's eye, it made him feel less optimistic about his own sisters' chances for a exciting and engaging first season. Verity didn't laugh so readily as she did, and Grace was not half as smooth a conversationalist. They did have their reputations standing for them, at least; Miss Belby had an unfortunate family situation, and the matter of her having left school early. But if the only bad thing about her was a little spotch of scandal, surely she would have prospects enough still?

"I'm sure your luck will improve," he assured her. "You've so many good qualities to recommend you."

  

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Set by Lady!

Begonia pressed her lips together for an awkward smile. Usually, she loved being complimented. Obviously. Who didn't love to be showered with compliments? But from Fortitude Greengrass? Given their previous encounter, and her general shame surrounding it, it felt weird. Plus, was it factually true? He said she had many good qualities (which obviously, was factually correct), but she was twenty-four with no marriage prospects. Her impending spinsterhood was filling her with dread.

"That's very kind of you to say." she replied awkwardly. To be honest, she wasn't sure what to say after that. Begonia was beginning to feel some shame about her perhaps mildly hostile behaviour towards Mr Greengrass. Perhaps she had been wrong about him.

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"I only say it because it's true," Ford said earnestly. He was only trying to make her feel better after their latest conversation, but it occurred to him after he said it that it could have been taken the wrong way. He didn't want to accidentally mislead her (again) and give her the impression that he was interested when he wasn't. Not that she wasn't interesting, and charming, and even tolerably pretty — he just wasn't interested in anyone. He couldn't say that without ruining her self esteem, though, and couldn't bolster her self esteem without giving her false hope. Why did talking to girls have to be so complicated?

" — I should find my sister," he said after an awkward beat. "Enjoy your evening, Miss Belby."

  

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Set by Lady!

Oh Merlin this was too awkward. She mustered a small smile of gratitude, which was in part earnest. However, she was very grateful when he excused himself. Their entire conversation had been entirely awkward.

"Good evening Mr Greengrass." she replied with a small curtsey, bidding him farewell. Then, perhaps too enthusiastically, she turned on the spot and headed away to find her mother.

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