July 17, 1892 - Foxwood Garden Party, Bath
Miss Twiglett shrieked as Timoleon wrapped his arm around her waist, because how indecent was it for a man to touch a woman without her permission! The skirts of her white dress were already dripping with the black lemonade, the large stain evident as it spread and soaked into the fabric, becoming the primary point of her attire. His own tie was stained with droplets of black lemonade, but he’d just toss it to a maid to clean at the end of the night; the stain either would be gone the next time he wore it, or would be replaced. Her maid was already scurrying forward to dab at the stain with a rag she’d procured. His hands fell to his side as he stepped away from her, holding his hands up in surrender as she turned on him.
“How dare you!” She was seething as she stepped toward him and Leo merely offered her a smile, taking another step back. He couldn’t utter a word to her - it was her fault she was covered in black liquid and the fact that he was stepping in it, and she wasn’t going to put the blame on him. He nodded his head toward her and without an apology, or rather, a murmur to see if she was okay, turned on his heel and took a few strides away from her. Her maid grabbed Miss Twiglett’s arm to pull aside because surely another chaperone had a spell to take the stain from her dress and save her evening. She had also drawn a few eyes, and it wasn’t in a positive way that a debutante would have hoped. Whoever married this woman was in for a miserable life.
Stepping toward where a crowd was beginning to gather in the drawing room, Leo skirted around a couple women who were clearly still watching the scene; the staff had jumped in quickly and the lemonade was cleaned from the floor, the ruined food back on trays as they were rushed to be disposed of. His eyes landed on Atticus, who normally would have been having a conniption of something awry at his own event, but his cheeks were flushed red and he was in a deep conversation with Anthony about… something. He was much too drunk to care. Leo would make a comment on it later when his friend was in the right headspace to be teased.
Leo stepped toward one of the walls where a young woman he didn’t quite recognize was alone, although she appeared to be looking for someone. He’d take that opportunity and capitalize on it, so he stepped up toward her and offered her a charming smile. “I hope you didn’t find yourself in range of that spill. You look lovely tonight.” She looked impeccable, unlike Miss Twiglett, who he swore was still shrieking somewhere in the other room.