June 19, 1891 - Sanditon Resort @ the first Sanditon Soiree

It was seeming harder and harder to tell her godmother no these days, but the woman must have sensed Malou's unease in recent events and pressed it to her advantage. With Fallon marrying soon there was little option for Malou to stay in their flat and as a young lady of the upper class she really couldn't live on her own. Her godmother, of course, had offered for her to live with her - but really how could she put up with a spinster. No, Malou needed a stroke of luck, a household of her own - and a man who would allow her to keep working. Not that she expected that existed. She had never really thought she'd be in this position but Fallon's own love story had pushed Malou to the realization that perhaps the life of a spinster was not really achievable in her circumstances. So she gave in her godmother.

And here she was, at Sanditon resort wearing a blue gown her godmother had insisted on purchasing her, and feeling altogether too old for such events. She just needed a moment to breathe, she decided, stepping out of the crowded ballroom and onto the terrace. She paused a moment to listen to the sounds of the waves and then she turned to look at the dislays of flowers. If she did find someone to marry would she be expected to make boquets such as this? What flowers had they used? Malou had no idea. She'd never taken the time to learn them. She leaned forward to smell one. It smell bueatiful and it - bit her! It [i]bit[/b] her! Right on the tip of her nose. What in heaven's name? She reeled back with a startled, "Ow!", her hand clutched over her nose.

  

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Beckett was having quite the evening. First his dance with Miss Fudge had ended in a hoppy manner, then he'd run into Miss Scamander which was always an adventure and now apparently there were other misfortunes afoot.

The exclamation startled him from his walk by the flowers, he'd caught sight of a potential player across the lawn, but was waylaid by the noise. "Are you alright miss?" Becks had nearly spilled his drink as he stopped short.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Of course, just her luck to have someone see the misfortune. Already she could feel the telltale rush of heat to her cheeks. She had grown use to it over the years, indeed the only place she seemed to have banished it (for the most part) was the hospital. "I think so." Malou answered, her tone sounding absent minded she she turned her attention to the flower before her. She had done her stint as a plants and poisons intern years ago, but charms had always been her experiste.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about flowers, would you?" She asked, only just now realizing she still had her hand over her nose. She felt the wound and could feel small puncture wounds from the ... petals? And there was a small amount of warmth from a drop or two of blood. It didn't feel too bad. But one never did know unless one knew the plant - which she didn't. She reached for a handkerief and to her mortification found she had somehow dropped her own. Wonderful, just wonderful.

  

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Beckett was not sure just what had transpired, but it appeared like the young lady had been injured somehow. "Flowers? Afraid not, other than they are what I get my mother when she is cross with me." He chuckled. What woman didn't like receiving flowers?

"Unfortunately more of a quidditch man myself," Beckett reached for his handkerchief to offer even before she came up empty-handed. "What happened?" He was inherently curious, but wouldn't push if she didn't want to share.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

She could sigh at that, really she could. The amount of quidditch players and conversation surrounding it seemed increasing these days and really a sigh was very well deserved. But she didn't. "Thank you." She murmured instead as she accepted his handkercheif.

Cautiously Malou took her hand away from her nose and dapped at it with the fabric. She really ought to have him look at it, but the lightly was dim and she was no where near brazen enough to ask no matter how practical nor medically inclinded she was. Besides, the light was dim out here. .No she'd simply have to excuse herself to the retiring room sooner rather than later and look in a mirror. After she explained her mortification to this ... quidditch player as it so happened.

"I was admiring the flowers," Malou started, gesturing beside her, "And went to smell one when it .... well, it bit me." Her quiet voice could almost get lost in the sound of the waves, she realized, thinking that it would be horrible if that was the case because then she'd have to repeat herself and the first time had been embarassing enough. To explain this a second time? Well Mallou was quite certain she'd never brave something as simple as smelling flowers at a ball again.

  

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"It bit you?" Beckett's brows furrowed and it took all of his willpower not to laugh. He felt bad, certainly and it wouldn't do to be laughing at the young lady's misfortune. "Which one?" Becks looked toward the offensive plants with a bewildered expression. He was well aware that some plants could be carnivorous, especially magical ones, but not a flower, certainly. Not that he doubted her, but this was first!

"Regardless, my sister and my niece are both healers, I could probably find the latter here this evening to take a look?" Was Rosamund here? Probably. It was a perk of having several family members serving as healers, even Eldin had taken up his family occupation, though Beckett couldn't honestly remember if the boy had finished his internship yet or not, Uncle of the year right there.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Malou could only nod, thanking God that he did not laugh. "That one." She pointed at what had appeared to be a larger fluffy variety of flower that was almost a rose but had way too many petals. She did at least know her common flowers after all, this one certainly wasn't common.

"Oh, no, thank you. There's no need." Malou started automatically, before his words truly caught up to her. Rosamund had mentioned her quidditch playing Uncle before, could this be him? Rosamund and her family might attend events such as this as well. It was part of the reason that the two female healers had bonded, shared oddities as it were. "Might I ask the name of your niece?" Malou found herself asking rather than her planned admission of her own career. A light blush colored her cheeks as she realized she was being terribly forward - not only that but it only just now occured to her that she didn't know his name and thus might not be able to figure out if he truly was the famed cousin or not.

  

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Beckett investigated the offending flower dubiously, but didn't get too close. He was far out of his realm of expertise. "Rosamund Bones," He answered while still peering at the rose.

Their age difference was similar to that of himself and his sister, which was laughable, but true enough. He had a hard time feeling like her uncle and more like a cousin of sorts. "I may or may not forget which department she works in, but I get that confused with both her mother and her brother come to think of it." The Bones family had a calling, it seemed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked as he finally turned his attention back on the young lass.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Ah, so it was the uncle. At his rambling departments Malou found herself interjecting almost absentmindedly , "Artifact incidents." Rosamund wasn't in the same ward but they regularly ate lunch together.

"Yes, thank you." She handed him the hankercheif back with a small smile. "I work at St. Mungo's so I'm sure they will be able to patch me up if I'm not." It probably wouldn't hurt to go find the Bones ladies though, Rosamund might have a keener set of eyes on the wound than Malou would be able to given that it was her nose and not a finger in question.

  

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Ah, it seemed that the young lady before him knew Rosamund better than he did. He chuckled at the thought. Wasn't he just a terrible uncle then? To be fair, their age gap was similar to that of his to his own sister and so he hardly felt like a true uncle sometimes. Upon hearing that she too was a healer, Beckett felt completely useless.

"It seems I am wholly unsuited to this situation, would you like me to help you find Rosamund then?" He laughed again as he waved the handkerchief off. "Keep it." Who knew how long it would take to find one of his family members to take a look at it.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

"Oh no, that's quite alright." Malou's cheeks were warming again. "I wouldn't want to take up more of your evening. Thank you, Mr. Longbottom." But before she could curtsey and scurry back into the ballroom he told her to keep the handcherif which made her turn even warmer and murmur another, "Thank you." Followed by a tiny curtsey and a, "Good evening." And then she was slipping back into the ballroom and around the edges of the room looking for either Rosamund or the retiring room - whichever she came to first.

  

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