9 May 1891 — Veni, Vidi, Vino, Corvo Estate, London

Emrys was starting to get suspicious about this whole thing.

It was too many variables that all aligned just right. She was too perfect. Her family was too perfect. There had to be something he was missing. Professor Angelica Vorona was intelligent and sensual. She wrote letters that read like poetry and dressed so provocatively she might have been a performer. She was good in bed, excepting the fact that she talked more than he would have preferred during foreplay. Her family owned one of his major competitors (something that had once made him consider courting Caroline Delaney despite her having no indication of any of Professor Vorona's positive qualities), but she had no professed interest in or loyalty to their company. Her father threw parties celebrating wine and art. He enjoyed her company so much that the standout quality that had first interested him in her as a potential wife — that her profession would see her inaccessible to him and everyone else for most of the year — was almost starting to seem like a detriment.

There had to be a catch somewhere; he just hadn't found it yet. Emrys was keenly looking for it tonight, since he had a chance to see her family in a more up close and personal manner than he had previously, but so far all he'd managed to discover was that her father's taste in sculpture was impeccable. He emptied one glass of wine while observing them and was returning for a second when he spotted the woman who was on his mind, slinking away from the crowd. Emrys refilled his glass and went after her, finding her alone near the edge of the garden.

"On a quest for fresh air?" he asked with a light smirk as he approached. "Or solitude? If it's the former I might be inclined to offer my arm for a turn through the garden, but if it's the latter I wouldn't want to intrude."

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@"Angelica Vorona" Hermia Bonaccord

  

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Lou made this! <3

Angelica was prepared for disaster.

Any penchant she had for optimism and rainbows was dead and gone years, at least when it came to her family. There was no possible way the Emrys Selwyn she was rather intimately acquainted with would truly hold his own under pressure, not like this. He was too perfect, had made her too happy in the past two months. There was no possible way he would measure up beyond the safety of his home or the borders of their letters. There was no possible way the man worming his way into her waking thoughts would shine so bright when faced with the suffocating scrutiny of her father. Perhaps, her father wasn't the only one testing Mr. Selwyn. Merlin, she should have warned him away, not encouraged this faceoff.

As if the day subjected to her father's incessant questions and prodding wasn't stressful enough, she had to face the day without the youngest Corvo to somehow mediate the hot tempers and years of distrust that always simmered near the surface when the family gathered. Renzo's peacocking and demanding things, as if the idiot was already head of the family had resulted in a rather heated row early. His snide commentary and complete ignorance of the British world quickly goading her into attack, a familiar pattern between brother and sister. Her own twin gleefully throwing proverbial fuel on fire only made it worse. A rather spectacular explosion of father's rage was required to send all five of the siblings present to their corners, her sisters never had the nerve to engage, but they retreated all the same. They all knew the sting of that rage, some better than others, but not one of them was willing to draw that fire now. Some fear just stayed with you.

Every new face that worked through the family receiving line, had her heart hammering. She played her part well, another of her father's objects on display. She'd smiled and curtsied through enough of these to know the required responses, but when she finally saw him climb the stairs, Angelica's lost her words in every language she knew. God, she was terrified, but he was so striking. The man moved through space as if he owned every inch of his surroundings. There was something so intriguing about the quiet confidence he had, and there wasn't a hint of unease on him. She hoped that lasted through introductions. She wasn't disappointed.

By the time she'd escaped the ballroom, with a fresh glass in hand, Angel was nearly giddy with relief. His voice caught her as she was slipping off to the lower gardens. Turning to him, Angelica's intended smirk was a full, shining smile.

"A quest for air and distance from a very crowded ballroom, actually." She corrected as she glanced around them to assess their privacy. Satisfied that no one seemed near enough to overhear, Angel returned her focus to him. "You were perfect tonight, absolutely brilliant. My father liked you. You have no idea how much that annoyed him."

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MJ made this miracle!

Her comments about her father brought up conflicting emotions in Emrys. He was inclined to preen at the compliment, because that was in his nature. He preferred to believe he was charming and he enjoyed being liked. He was vain, and enjoyed being told that he was liked. Her second sentence had him wary, however. Her father liked him, but had expected not to; why had he had any sort of expectations about Emrys at all? There was an obvious answer, of course. They were business rivals. Even though the two companies had not been in direct competition much in the past, it would behoove any businessman to be at least passingly aware of the others who worked in his field. It was possible, however, that there was more to it. Had the Professor told her father anything about Emrys prior to this event? And if she had, to what extent? With what tone? Emrys would be loathe to think that she had spoken of him as a potential suitor, and that Mr. Korvo may have been sizing him up as a potential son-in-law even as Emrys had been eyeing him as a prospective father-in-law. It removed something of the element of surprise that he was fond of keeping in his corner; he preferred to remain mysterious until it suited him to reveal his own ends.

Professor Vorona hardly seemed the blushing schoolgirl, though. He could not picture her gushing over a man because she had declared herself smitten. She was shrewd; if she had told her father anything about Emrys, it would have been with purpose... which meant that perhaps she was playing just as complicated a game as he was, moving pieces that were occluded from his view.

"Did it?" Emrys asked with one eyebrow raised, though his tone was neutral. "I hope I don't have a reputation as unlikable."

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Lou made this! <3

If her attention had been anywhere but his eyes, she would have missed the subtle shift. Her praise, or what she'd intended as such, seemed to land, but inelegantly. Much like a sloppy incantation ruined a spell, Angel's words had been off. But where?

Easy smile lost to a wary curiosity, Angel took a moment to study his face, her own enthusiasm quickly reined in. "You have a reputation for being you." She offered evenly. "You are the most inscrutable yet well-regarded man in a rather public family. You are near in age to my eldest brother and my father's heir. On parchment, you could be equals, but you are many things Renzo is not." Even comparing Renzo to Mr. Selwyn felt far too charitable on her brother's behalf.

Ticking the points off on her fingers, partially to keep her hands from initiating contact in public, Angelica laid out the blatantly obvious (to her). "You know the North Atlantic trade and British culture in ways Renzo never bothered to learn, you know your fleet and your market, you're magnetic in conversation where Renzo is imperious in all things, and you arrived tonight as an equal. No false inferiority, no blustery overcompensation; you are effortless." She'd kept careful watch on his far as she listed her accounting of the evening, hoping for the spark and smirk to reappear. If appeals to his pride were ineffective, he'd be an even rarer man than she believed.

"Mr. Selwyn, my father wants to expand his power in a competitive market knowing he won't be at the helm forever. He also knows his son. He was hoping for a rival that appeared socially inept, ignorant, or at least uneasy in his role. Of course, liking you is a disappointment for him."

"I hate to disappoint, but I believe I was the only Corvo favoring you this evening." She gave him a pout at that, hoping to draw him back to her initial sense of play. "You will have to forgive me for keeping what I know of you to myself. Something about praising you to my family seemed ill-advised." She offered her palms in a playful 'what could I do?' though the gesture was rhetorical. Offering her thoughts on a man to her father hadn't occurred to her since her own engagement. She wasn't a fool, but she was her father's daughter. She knew what sort of scrutiny she'd be inviting to her life if her father thought she favored a man, regardless of her intention. The damned Witch Weekly was a grand reminder of that.

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   Emrys Selwyn

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MJ made this miracle!

There was certainly a lot to digest in her answer, which was far longer than he had been expecting. If she was trying to play coy or deceive him, brevity would have been the order of the day, which meant these must have been her earnest thoughts — or else that she was more duplicitous than he had given her credit for, and was playing the innocent too well for him to read her. But he didn't want to entertain that possibility, and certainly not while she was offering him such compliments. She'd started with facts or neutral observations but had quickly moved into magnetic; effortless. The praise made him want to touch her, even though they were in such a public setting that it would have been considered vulgar even if they'd been man and wife.

She was no blushing debutante, though; she was a widow and a mature woman, and perhaps it wouldn't be so scandalous for him to touch her in some subtle way if they were courting. He could have stood with her arm on his, perhaps, or reached out to touch her elbow when he made a joke, or maybe even slipped his arm around her waist for a moment as he whispered something in her ear — if they were courting, if if if.

"You could never disappoint," he said, with a smile that turned towards a chuckle as he continued, "And I'm inclined to apologize for disappointing your father with my competence, but really. I've been doing this for long enough he ought to have expected a little better of me, I think."

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Lou made this! <3

It was difficult to keep her distance when he first approached her months ago, but now that she knew the warmth of his cologne and the weight of his hands, she was finding the socially mandated limits stifling. She loathed arbitrary restrictions, really any restriction that wasn't her own design. There were always exceptions to rules, but any indication of impropriety when she almost expected her twin to pop in from the hedge was unthinkable.

Hand coming to the gems at her throat, smokey quartz and gold, she settled for pressing his gift against her collarbone. Perhaps it was sentimental and foolish - she'd swear it was rebellion - but she wanted his tokens on her tonight. She wore the color her father required,  the Corvo crest secured her gown at the waist, she had danced with and chatted with anyone she was commanded to tonight; she had been the picture of devotion in all ways but one. She wore Mr. Selwyn's gift, was anxious on his behalf, both things her father would never know. It was a pity; she enjoyed the role of the impertinent former favorite whenever the chance arose.

"Don't say that; you've hardly tested me." Her cocky little grin was becoming more and commonplace around him; she couldn't help it (or at least refused to police the reaction on a regular basis). "I would silence the inclination. If you prove magnanimous, it may break him. Save some of your tricks for the next time I want him humbled."

"I was considering a turn through the maze to observe some of the better sculptures. Would you care to join me, Mr. Selwyn?" She kept her tone light, would resemble her name in propriety for his sake, but she was eager, if still a bit nervous, to spend a moment with him that felt private. She wanted time with the man behind the letters, perhaps time would calm her and her horrible impulse to monologue around him.

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MJ made this miracle!

That was quite a thing to say about one's father, and Emrys made note of it. Had her family done something to earn her ire? They must have; Emrys had never disdained either of his own parents so severely, though he hadn't idolized them either. His own father had handed him his livelihood, despite the convention to leave second and third sons out of one's last will and testament, and for that Emrys would always be grateful. He'd declined to force Emrys into a marriage at twenty-something as well, despite Trystan's follies. If he'd had any fault, it had perhaps been that he was a little detached, a little out of touch — but for a man who valued his autonomy and privacy as much as Emrys Selwyn did, that was hardly a fault at all; it was a boon. So this sentiment about her father was difficult for him to comprehend, on the surface of it, and it seemed like a complicated thing to navigate a response to.

Luckily he didn't need to respond to the comment about wanting to see her father humbled, because she had turned her attention to the garden maze — or more importantly, to the opportunity to speak more privately. Emrys wanted nothing more, obviously. A smirk flickered to his face as soon as the question left her mouth. "I would be delighted to have such an experienced guide to the sculpture," he agreed with a mischievous glint to his eye. "Lead the way, Professor."

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Lou made this! <3

"My pleasure." Her approval was clear, and her shoulders relaxed slightly as she headed away from the noise of the evening. She maintained her distance as she led him to the maze, her ease more and more obvious as they wound into the gardens. Somewhere after the early statues - the abundance of ravens and martial statues, various gods and heroes - Angel allowed herself a slight brush of her hand against his. It was such a simple thing, but it had her spirits up, her pleasure in his presence obvious.

Whatever he said, she knew that she was capable of more than disappointing him. Boring him would be a greater sin by far, and she couldn't bear that, he deciding she was anything like every other witch he encountered day-to-day. She'd always needed to be exceptional; with him, the need was compulsive. Still, she wanted to show him a piece of her world.

Ushering him to a small fountain, she grinned triumphantly before letting her hand graze his. "Be brave, pirate." With a brazen little wink, she stepped beyond his grasp before strolling straight through a visibly solid hedge. Awaiting him on the other side of the charmed shrubbery, Angelica motioned to the courtyard around them. The hidden gem wasn't overly large, but a large statue dominated a fountain at its center. "This," she gestured to the statue as she pressed against the fountain's circular edge, "Is one of my favorite pieces in the entire collection." Her pride and reverence for the statue warming her voice. "I remember finding this place as a girl, and I kept returning. They are too beautiful to stay away."

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   Emrys Selwyn

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MJ made this miracle!

Emrys followed her through the garden, half his attention on her and half on his surroundings. He was continually aware of their proximity to the rest of the party, and their diminishing chances of being overheard, seen, or interrupted. They were moving towards solitude, or as much solitude as could be had at a party like this. Emrys let his mind wander towards what she might be planning, leading him off and getting him alone — and then she went through the hedge. His heart rate increased slightly as he followed her. They were properly alone, then; none of the guests would know where to find them. Her family might, but she would know better than him what the risk of that was tonight. He surveyed the enclave, taking in the fountain and the wondrous sculpture at the center, but his eyes went back to her before he responded.

"Magnificent," he pronounced. "Does your father hide all his most prized possessions away like this?"

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Lou made this! <3

His voice was incentive enough to look away from the beloved sculpture, but she didn't go to him. His assessment of the artwork, both human and marble, earned a chuckle as her eyes warmed. It wasn't the first time he'd said something so bold about her appearance and she was not shy about the observation, but the burst of butterflies was a bit much. She was enjoying his flirtation too much and she knew it. When this ended, she would miss his praise and his open admiration. She would miss the devil-may-care smirk and smokey tone his voice and laugh took on when he was on the prowl. She would miss him, and the idea, the inevitability of it all, tightened around the borders of her heart. It was a frightening thing and a vulnerable place she avoided when she could, but she couldn't silence her mind any more than she could silence her mouth when provoked.

There was still a rebel camp in her musings that held out for something ridiculous. What if he enjoyed their attachment as she did or if he meant as many of the things in her letters as she did? What if he saw in her a destination instead of a distraction? What if, just perhaps, he thought of her as fondly as she did him? There were so many possibilities in if.

Shaking the sentimental hindrance away, she slid quickly back into the familiar pattern of wordplay "Only the ones he can't marry off." She teased with some authority in the matter. "My father and I are of the same mind on point at least, few things are more frustrating than wasting genius on those ill-equipped to appreciate it." Angel perched on the fountain's rim and let her hand trail through the water before adding, "I have a vivid memory of my sister Ksenia's debut ball. After one of her more promising suitors groped a statue of Venus, we have been more selective about allowing outsiders near our favorites." Her smile was all mischief, her memories from so long ago still crystal clear. She was only nine at the time but watching the ensuing mayhem had made sneaking out of bed to watch the party worth the effort.

Fixing her gaze on him again, not bothering to hide her appreciation, Angel managed with this with a straight face, "If the sight of bare marble is too much of a challenge to your restraint, please alert me now. I wouldn't want to intrude."

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MJ made this miracle!

She had immediately dispatched with his thin pretense of complimenting the statue, but Emrys didn't mind. He'd intended his remark as a compliment, after all, and it would have disappointed him to learn that it had gone over her head. Not with her, though; she was too intelligent for anything to go over her head. She knew it, too: few things more frustrating than wasting genius on those ill-equipped to appreciate it. Emrys was nothing if not appreciative. He had an urge to ask about her late husband, sensing that her review of him might be less favorable than the one she'd given Emrys, but he held back. He wasn't sure how she would react to that line of questioning, for one. Whatever her feelings about the other man, be they sentimentality or hatred, he didn't particularly want them dredged up and laid between the two of them no matter how curious he was. That, and if she caught on to the notion that he was inclined to compare himself to her late husband, even as a passing thought, it might give her ideas about his intentions. He couldn't have that — not until he'd decided precisely what his intentions were.

That mischievous smile was beguiling, and Emrys drew closer to where she was standing, though remained at a respectable distance. He wasn't entirely sure how alone they really were here, and he wouldn't forget that her family owned these gardens. The last thing he wanted to do was get himself embroiled in a scandal, or a foolish duel over someone's honor. How ridiculous would that be, to be challenged to a duel over the honor of a woman he'd already brought to climax half a dozen times? Men could be so intentionally ignorant when they were determined to be brutes, but Emrys wouldn't play their victim.

"My dear lady," he said with a teasing smile. He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket to resist the urge to reach out and touch her wrist, but he let his eyes wander over her figure in an entirely unsubtle way. "You of all people know the strength of my restraint."

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   Angelica Selwyn

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Lou made this! <3

She'd promised herself she would behave. She would behave, she was a grown woman in control of her baser impulses. She was usually in control of her impulses. Straightening up from the water, she studied him in his approach. She felt the pull and answered with a pace of her own. She didn't fully close the distance he set between them, she would enjoy the proximity all the same. Whatever her desires, she wasn't some alley tramp. Testing their limits was invigorating, but she wouldn't be kneeling for a lover in the gardens.

It was probably some deficiency in her character, or in Society's for denying it, but knowing she was the one being studied was thrilling. She would ignore the attention if the source didn't meet her strict standards, but Emrys Selwyn was welcome to look at his leisure. Preening in public was rude, but allowing an admirer to praise her seemed the only polite thing to do.

Her own eyes catching his movement, slightly disappointed he mastered himself and denied her, her eyes did flash with his next comment. Oh, he was wicked. "That is true. Both the strength of you and of your restraint. Also something genius I appreciate."

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MJ made this miracle!

Emrys smirked at her comment and took another small step in. They were a little too close for polite company now, with their bodies a little misaligned so that his gaze naturally fell to her shoulder rather than her face. He kept his hands in his pockets, but in his mind he reached to touch her and let his hands wander over the curve of her breast and the bones of her corset and down to her hips. It was funny what society considered decent and indecent, Emrys thought as his eyes drifted over the line of her necklace against her bare neck. No one would have batted an eyelash at all the exposed skin stretching between her jaw and the shoulder of her dress, but it was more seductive than her bare stomach would have been. Was that true of all women, or just of her? Did the necklace she was wearing have anything to do with it?

"Reputation depends on restraint," he pointed out. "And that's at least doubly true of young women, compared to men. Though — perhaps widows are in a category of their own," he added mischievously. "You can wander through a garden without a chaperone, at any rate. Do you think that's meant to be a reflection of your restraint, or mine?"

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Lou made this! <3

She shook her head with a chuckled tsk-tsk, "Reputation depends on perception, mio caro. Though the two are related, I suppose." She raised her brows in a subtle challenge at his assessment of young women widows, he was correct, per se, but conceding that wasn't any fun. "I am in a category of my own." She asserted without hesitation. "Widows are a rather dull breed; lots of handwringing and lamentation. It makes for a tedious evening."

Matching him in mischief was more entertaining than it should be. "You make my simple offer of a guided tour sound so risque, Mr. Selwyn. What could we possibly be up to besides a bit of art appreciation? Unless there is something about the restraint of bachelors you failed to mention." Her hands closed the distance between them, tracing the seam of his jacket from collar to shoulder before giving his lapel a little pat. She took her time in her inspection as if a thread of his carefully tailored suit would dare to be out of place. "My intentions are purely altruistic," Her tone matched her words, but her face reflected an entirely different motivation. "After all, my restraint is, without doubt, superior." She offered that with a cheeky smile before stepping away and striding back to the fountain. "Wouldn't you agree?" She offered the last over her shoulder, the picture of respectability if it weren't for the smug grin.

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MJ made this miracle!

Oh, this wicked woman. Running her fingers over the shoulder of his suit, and running her eyes over his chest. She knew exactly what she was doing, and had set out on purpose to tease him. If he'd had any doubt to that effect, the look on her face as she looked over her shoulder when she walked away would have settled it immediately. The comment about her restraint being superior was a jab at their last meeting, he thought. He'd given up their game of cat-and-mouse first, leaning in to kiss her when their flirtations had reached their logical crescendo. Apparently she didn't intend to let him live it down, but he regretted nothing. How could he have regretted anything about that meeting when it had lead into one of the most enjoyable weekends he'd had all spring?

Emrys had half a mind to chase her down as she walked away and show her exactly how limited his restraint could be in a moment like this. The edge of the fountain would be enough of a seat for her to rest on while he buried his face beneath her skirt — but such indiscretion on the might see the hem of her dress wet (possibly in more ways than one) which would cause eyebrows to raise whenever they returned to the party. He couldn't indulge that particular urge, but neither could he let her teasing go without some return.

"Lamentations may be tedious, but hand-wringing can make for an interesting night," he said suggestively. "If you're the adventurous sort. Purely altruistic intention may not get you there."

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   Angelica Selwyn

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Lou made this! <3

Well, he won that exchange. Angel expected he'd have something to say about her jab and he'd yet to leave her wanting. Eyes going wide in surprise at his twist to her words, Angel debated giving him her back until she could wipe the disbelief off her face, but, ever the good opponent, she faced him as she weighed his words.

And he'd challenged her, the bastard. "I sense a trap." She almost purred it, "But I cannot let such a challenge go unanswered." She studied him, wondering which tactic he'd anticipate. He could read her well enough, she anticipated, to know what the suggestion would do. She had the sense memory and imagination to think of several delightful scenarios.

She chose a favorite easily. One of them would have the sense to conjure blankets before he pressed her to the ground. He'd praise her between the sucking kisses to her throat and shoulder she adored, words of how right she felt beneath him, how good they were like this. The air would be cold on her skin, but he'd so warm as she locked her legs around him. Curse him for that image!

"As I would be the one with something in hand," she mused, "I think it would be a very considerate gesture, on my part." She tested the suggestion between them. Was he truly suggesting or was her entertaining the idea about to be a joke at her expense? With him, she assumed an equal shot at both.

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MJ made this miracle!