March 29th, 1894 — Mulciber House, Wellingtonshire, Hogsmeade
Ladies' Night Out

He liked parties better than dinners, that was for certain. They allowed a footman more opportunity to sneak away for a quick break, so long as there were enough bodies circulating the room. And, for the most part, for-hire footmen were more likely to pick up one another's slack, allow for such breaks, as long as they were not too frequent or too lengthy.

Callum's empty tray had been left downstairs to refill with further flutes of champagne for the ladies in attendance, many of whom he recognized from other functions, a couple of whom he recognized from other contexts. His bowtie had been loosened and now hung on either side of his neck, his gloves stripped and tucked into a pocket as he had taken the service exit to the small servants' courtyard at the side of the house a nod to one of the kitchen maids in greeting before he lit a cigarette and she returned inside.

One hand rubbed the back of his neck while the other, holding the cigarette, fell to his side, the walls of the courtyard shielding him from some, but not all, of the crisp March evening breeze. The cold, Cal thought, would be as much impetus to return to work as the desire to get paid/continue to be hired for such things. He took another drag from his cigarette, this time with a bit more haste.

The door opened, filling the courtyard with the warm glow of the lanterns inside as someone stepped out. Another kitchen maid, Cal assumed, but the footman stood up straight, pulse elevating a bit, as he realized she was one of the guests from inside. The cigarette fell to the ground, swiftly extinguished under the heel of his shoe.

"Madam, my apologies," he offered quickly, nevermind that he hadn't been doing anything wrong. The bulk of his livelihood required Callum stay on the good side of women like these ones. "Are you lost?" This was not the typical place for a house party guest to wind up.

Open to a guest in attendance!

  

Evangeline thought it was probably her own fault that she wasn't having a nice time. This was not, generally speaking, the sort of event that she attended, even if it was the sort of event she was likely to get an invitation to. At best, she was bored. At worst, she found herself in the company of a lot of people she'd made a point of alienating.

Still, even Eva couldn't claim to not be curious about a woman who might have killed her husband. Not that she thought Mrs. Mulciber had actually done it, necessarily. But Eva hadn't killed her husband either, and that didn't mean Edward's death hadn't been the happiest moment in her life, and she was naturally curious about anyone who might (or might not) find themselves in the same position. So she'd come.

It was all well and good. Until she'd realized that her mother was also here. And Evangeline had made it about as long into the evening as she reasonably could while also not acknowledging the woman without being so obvious about it as to cause a scene. No one had ever accused Evangeline Rowle of being subtle or discrete, but she preferred to be in control--or some semblance of it--rather to have her hand forced, and well... Everyone should know what their own limits are.

She had slipped out of the room, and then nearly been cornered by someone else she didn't want to interact with, so she'd had to get creative with the way she got out of the house. Which is how she ended up in the servants' courtyard. She hadn't actually expected to come upon anyone at this time. In fairness, she'd never had a reason to give much thought to where or when other people's servants took breaks during these sorts of things.

"Oh," she said, turning to the man who spoke to her. "Er. Yes. Of course. Obviously." Because, well, what else was she supposed to say?

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Cal regarded the woman carefully for a moment. She was not flustered in the strictest sense, but any fluster about her was not that which was typically borne by the wealthy when they found themselves in the realm of the Downstairs. Curious. Realizing that his tie was undone and it would be far too obvious now to retie it, the footman instead rubbed his hands once on the side of his livery to give them some occupation, smoothing wrinkles that had yet to form.

"Please, allow me to show you to..." he trailed off. She had come an awfully long way away from the party for someone eager to leave it. Perhaps she had some sort of clandestine meeting arranged with one of the other footmen—or more scandalous still, one of the maids.

  

Evangeline tried to school her expression into something aloof and unbothered. "Actually, I was just looking for the exit. I must have gotten turned around."

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Set by Bee <3

"Then you have been quite successful," Cal allowed, an almost easy smile on his lips, "so long as you're not picky about which exit you find."

The footman gestered to the nearby staircase that would take her up to the side of the house, at street level. From there, the world would be her oyster—if she truly desired to leave.

  

Evangeline thought beggars couldn't be choosers, personally, but what she said was "An exit is an exit when you need it." She shrugged.

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Set by Bee <3

And yet, here she remained. Eager to leave the party, perhaps, but not quite to exit the premesis. With a mental shrug, Callum reached into his pocket, removing a rather ornate cigarette case for a footman.

"Cigarette?" he offered. He knew some ladies smoked, though were often rather surruptitious about it.

  

Evangeline really ought to leave, but without the immediate deterrent of her mother's presence--Audra Asperhand was hardly going to come out here, after all--she found herself lingering.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the cigarette. "Are these things as dull to work as they are to attend?" she found herself asking.

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Set by Bee <3

"Sometimes," he answered with a half-shrug. "Evening events tend to be more... interesting than those in the day. There's always someone sneaking off together. Maybe not at an event like this," Cal ammended, knowing the only men about were those like him, "but generally speaking."

She was married, or had been; she was out here with a cigarette. So long as he was not explicit, it was only inappropriate for him to allude to such things in the sense that it was inappropriate for him to converse with her at all. A married woman could be scandalized, to be sure, but not by the mere suggestion that scandal existed in the world.

  

"Other people's drama is always the most interesting thing going on at any given moment," Evangeline acknowledged, taking a drag on her cigarette. Smoking when she was stressed was a terrible habit--the smell was awful, after all--but something being a bad idea had certainly never stopped her. Ask anyone.

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Set by Bee <3

Callum chuckled.

"A keen observer of goings-on are you, ma'am?"

  

Eva smiled, amused. "For better or worse, it's usually much more interesting than anything else on an evening's docket," she said. Polite conversation, perhaps by its nature, tended to circle the same handful of topics and there was only so much enjoyment to be gotten out of it, at least without something to supplement it.

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Set by Bee <3

"Not," Cal countered, eyebrow cocked, "if you know the right people, the right places."

He was the wrong people, frequented all the wrong places, but damned if he did not know how to keep himself amused far more easily than the society matrons crowing on about fabrics and dance cards and the like.

  

Eva snorted. "Well, you're not wrong there," she agreed.

She took another drag on her cigarette and then stubbed it out, saying, "Well, I'll leave you to it." It, of course, being actual work, she supposed, though that was none of her business. She was going home. "Thanks for the cigarette."

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Set by Bee <3

Callum's polite half-bow was rather undercut by the small quirk of his lips as he replied, "Any time, Madam."