February 8, 1890 - Generic Ball, London

It had been a good evening, plenty of good food, drinks, and conversation to go around. Felix was feeling quite good about the event on a whole, although the champagne might have had quite a bit to do with that, when guests began to head home. The cool early morning air greeted him, refreshing after the stuffy ballroom. Already the first fingers of sunlight were sliding into the sky and most of the guests were yawning about him ready to sleep until the early afternoon. Thank goodness that the Prophet’s offices did not require his presence this morning.

As his carriage rolled around to the entrance Felix opened the door and deftly swung himself into a seat as he rapped on the roof of the carriage. The signal taken the driver was quick to get the horses into action. Perhaps too quick.

Indeed, for beside him, dressed in taffeta and silk was Miss Fawley.

  

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"Really, Mrs. Wellington," the debutante was saying to her chaperone as the cold morning air hit her face. Merlin's beard, who threw a ball at 6am in the morning? Diana resisted the urge to purse her lips in indignation at having been hauled ungratefully out of bed by her ladies in waiting and strung up into a corset like a horse to a cart. "I do believe this was a first for mother, ever since she'd heard of me dancing with Mr. Abbott she's been completely immovable." It was one ball after another, she was surprised she escorted directly to the balls by the matriarch herself.

As they made their way to the carts, Diana flicked her fan open and held it in front of her face to disguise a yawn. Really, with her laces, it was hard to muster such an action without gasping multiple times whilst doing so. "Thank Merlin," Diana murmured to herself as she threw open the carriage door and climbed in. Back home and undoubtedly to another tea later that afternoon. It was a wonder she didn't have bags underneath her eyes with her schedule of balls and parties. She was just about to have Mrs. Wellington knock on the roof to signal their ready for departure when the carriage door opened again and a figure climbed in.

Diana was too shocked to say much other than register the scent of the party she'd just exited on the man when he rapped on the carriage cieling. "Mr. Prewett!" she squeaked, near scrambling as backward as she could. "I do believe you've selected the wrong carriage!"

  

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Looking about him it seemed that Miss Fawley was quite correct this certainly was not the Prewett’s carriage. All the wrong colors now that he thought about it. “Begging your pardon Miss Fawley!” Felix jumped up from the seat, attempting to distance himself from the young lady now stuck in the corner. Forgetting the ceiling for the carriage Felix’s head found purchase with the roof and hit with a resounding ‘smack’! To make the matter worse the carriage hit a rough spot and sent Felix tumbling into the bench where Miss Fawley’s chaperon was seated.

He caught himself, just before he hit the older woman catching a glimpse out the window to note that the carriage was no longer in the drive, but rather already making progress into the city. There went his idea of leaping back out as if he were a hero in a romance novel his sister’s might read.

  

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She didn't know Felix Prewett too well but despite the family gossip that had resulted of his father, she knew him to be a decent man of society. Given this previous knowledge and the fact that she'd just taken tea with his mother not that long ago, she opted to not go with her first instinct of shrieking at him to get out. Instead, Diana let out an audible gasp as Mr. Prewett's head hit the roof of the carriage. "Oh, are you –" she didn't have time to complete her question seeing as he went careening towards Mrs. Wellington. It all happened so fast, and her gloved hands went to cover her mouth as Mrs. Wellington shrieked and slapped the man straight across the face.

"Mrs. Wellington!" Diana yelped, her voice filled with the exact shock that was written across her chaperone's face at what had just occurred. "Oh my goodness," Immediately she took her fan and rapped the handle against the roof. "Hello there!" she called out the window to the driver. "Please stop, sir, please!" Glancing out the window she saw that they were just driving by Hyde Park, and she rapped her fan against the roof vociferously until the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

  

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Miss Fawley was saying something behind him, but apparently her chaperon didn't feel an accident was an accident and her hand hit his face with a surprising amount of strength for a lady her age. Felix tried to steadying himself as he tried held a hand to the smarting cheek. "My apologies ma'am." He hastily tried to smooth things over.

The carriage came to a jolting stop, and still not having gained his balance, Felix leaned toward the door rather than risk either lady on either bench, bouncing against it rather painfully.

Well now that the excitement seemed to have ended, Felix supposed he should attempt to slip away with the shreds of his dignity that were still clinging to him still existed. "My sincerest apologies ladies, I'll just be on my way." He bowed to them and opened the door. The cool London air hitting his face - as well as pelting rain. This would be a long way home.

  

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Calling for the carriage to stop seemed to be not the best move, as Diana could see Mr. Prewett struggling to gain his footing. She winced sympathetically, watching as he excused himself. Once she saw the condition of the weather outside though (with all the excitement she hadn't noticed the change in weather before this), she reached out a hand. "Oh, please Mr. Prewett!" She called after him. "I apologize most vehemently, I don't know what happened with the mix up. But I cannot allow you to walk yourself home in such disastrous weather."

Besides, Harriet Prewett would never hear of such a thing, and Diana refused to allow such circumstances to ever reach the formidable matriarch.

  

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The lady's gesture was a kind one, but given the circumstances Felix was not sure it was one he could politely take up. "Oh no, Miss Fawley." Felix started, "I couldn't impose in such a manner." Even if the London rain did make it rather a tempting offer. "You're parents certainly wouldn't appreciate such ill manners from myself." He added, trying to convince himself just as much as Miss Fawley and her disapproving chaperone.

  

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Despite the pouring down rain and the palpable judgement from her chaperone, Diana winced at his reasoning. "You might be right in that assumption," The fact remained he was most certainly right - her parents would not approve of this situation one bit. "However I'd deign to think this might be an exception. I have my chaperone, Wellington here please do come in. I'd hate to think the worry I would put your mother through if I didn't offer you a ride."

  

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The young lady would not be pressuaded otherwise and having been in his mother's presense quite enough he rather suspected she was right. Mrs. Prewett would not see kindly if she were to hear of such a thing.

"As you wish," Felix bowed toward her as he ducked back into the carriage. "It appears I shall not dissuade you so I shall quite gratefully accept your offer." He gave her a smile and then tried to look as gentlemanly as possible as he sat down next to the very disapproving Wellington.

The situation settled the carriage again began on its path. "Did you enjoy your evening Miss Fawley?" The least he could do was be good company as the carriage made its way toward their respective homes.

  

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Diana smiled as he got back into the carriage, figuring it was safe seeing as she had her chaperone with her. She sighed contentedly at the thought of the ball, and especially at the thought of a hot bath waiting for her at home. Mother and father wouldn't be worried seeing as they expected her to return at the wee hours of the morning.

"I did, quite, thank you." she said with a smile. "Though I think at one point these nights can take a toll on someone, don't you figure?"

  

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"I absolutely agree." Felix said in complete seriousness. "To dance to your death does seem rather bleak." He added teasingly. "Perhaps ladies magazines should spend more time on the topic. Look at such functions based on the merits of their health. I think one side might argue for merits such as how jovial all seem. But really, perhaps they should consider sprained ankles and trampled toes. I'm sure many of my fellow gentleman had not learned to be as light on their feet as you." Perhaps it was much too late in the evening for such a topic, but he endeavored to keep his tone light and playful if only so they might have something more to speak on that trivial matters such as what flavor punch had been served and if Miss Delaney had danced well tonight.

  

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She smiled at him, ignoring the pointed stares that Mrs. Wellington was likely giving her. Honestly, she might have to consider getting another (younger) lady's maid after this. "I assure you, Mr. Prewett, if you'd taken a survey of debutantes asking how many times we'd suffered through the night with sprained ankles or crushed toes, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone how hadn't gone through that experience!"

  

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Somehow Felix was unsurprised by this. "If I had known such a blight were as widespread as this why I would have written a column on it myself!" Of course not for Witch Weekly, such a publication hardly counted as actual journalism whatever the rag might claim of itself. "Perhaps I shall do so now. What do you think?"

  

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As the carriage jolted to a halt, Diana smiled again at the thought of her father approaching her one day at breakfast about an article he read in the Daily Prophet about an excess of debutantes and their sprained ankles. He would get a good laugh.

"I should think both me and my family would find copious amounts of amusement in such an article!" she exclaimed as the footman opened the door. "Thank you for this wonderful conversation, Mr. Prewett. Please give my best regards to your family!"

  

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