Thread: Secrets and Lies (Sync & Mali)

Much to our misfortune, we cannot control the opinions and judgments of others. What we can do is either discredit them or simply let them squirm in anticipation of the awaiting truth of said opinions and judgments. For her personally, Elsa would choose the latter. Rather than deny and confirm with the actual truth as opposed to the truth they would want to hear, shed rather let them squirm. After all, her reputation was already shot. What more could she possibly have to lose? Elsa was beginning to feel an inkling of a similarity between them and their situations. It seemed that with their ruined reputations, they were likely in the same boat about their current predicament. He must have been a man nearing his thirties or already in them, and based on the lack of wedding band on his left hand and the fact that he seemed to be at this party alone without a wife to nag behind him, he was in search of a wife. Lest he forfeit whatever title and fortune he would come into as being a Hawthorne son. As for Elsa, she was required to marry by the end of the year, lest she decided to devote her life of some kind of servitude, disowned by her family and resigned to succumb to such servitude or be her own woman and truly become the lady of the night that so many already assumed she had become. Considering they had just met, suggesting any of these, regardless of the merit behind them, would be far too premature and likely scare the other off if not turn off completely. No, she had four months and in those four months she was hoping to not only acquire an alliance of convenience but also for that of love, if she could be so lucky. And shed wish the same on Mr. Hawthorne, though despite her inward eagerness to take a chance on this man she had just met, something told her he was not for her. A man like him would be better suited with a far more beautiful woman than her, perhaps even more charming if such a woman existed--it was Elsas belief that a woman either had stunning beauty or charismatic charm, but not both. Elsa knew she had more charm and wit than beauty and there are other rare cases of women like her of high society out there, perhaps once upon a time had they not been so warped and manipulated by the advantages of money and luxury, as well as the stability wreaked from it. Then there were those women who were only ornaments or the finest porcelain dolls. Beautiful to look at but never to be touched. Thus, they were married off into quite the advantageous arrangement with all the luxury, money and stability possible while their husbands likely strayed away, though with the boastful victory of acquiring such a beautiful wife while buried between the legs of an unbecoming woman of the night. Mr. Hawthorne, I suspect our motives may be similar but to say them out loud would only weaken any of our chances. Instead-- She cut off when she could hear in the distance, even through the string of classical music playing inside, her name being called by the all too familiar female voice of her mother. She turned her face in the direction of that calling before giving him her attention once more, a smile gracing her lips. Instead, I will offer that we leave it up to chance and in the air. For while you mull on it, I will take my leave and if the stars align in our favors, then we will be seeing each other again. With a final curtsy, she gathered her skirts gently and stepped back away from him, though kept her gaze right on him. Its been a pleasure Mr. Hawthorne. I daresay we might meet again. And if not, let this be a night to remember for the both of us, should our follies result in a demise of character and stature. Leaving those as her final words, Elsa turned and walked back into the ballroom. Unfortunately for her, her mother had not called to retire for the night. Instead, a handsome young man, who was likely a couple of years older than her, stood beside her and smiled almost expectantly at Elsa. She could only raise one finely crafted eyebrow, her lips pursing in an almost distaste, a look her mother recognized because she was at her side immediately, pinching the back of her arm out of sight of this man, a silent warning to get her to cooperate. My dear, please allow me to introduce to you Mr. Fitzwilliam Abernathy of the New Haven Abernathys. Ms. Strathmore, it is a true pleasure. he bowed and Elsa only bobbed a curtsy. Offering his hand to her, he straightened his tall and lean posture and flashed a charming smile full of secret hidden agendas. Shed rather take her chances on Mr. Hawthorne. At least his smiles were devoid of salacious thoughts. Would you honor me with a dance? Elsa glanced to her mother, almost pleadingly but the woman only gave a look of insistence. Forcing down the bile of gumption that rose to initially decline this man, Elsa put on her best smile filled with so much saccharine it could give cancer and placed her gloved hand daintily into his. If I must. She mumbled more to herself than anything, Mr. Abernathy not hearing unfortunately, though her mother did and had to force the smile on her face to stay rather than flounder. Mr. Abernathy led her out onto the dance floor among the other couples dancing and they engaged in a dance. Though her attention was anywhere on him, especially as he began to talk. Of himself no less!