Sterling Silver [M]

[Zero]

[Fancy party at the Zylberdik estate. M because Lysander is a roguish scoundrel and dick jokes, so just in case. Open by request only, so PM or DM me if you have an idea for a character and plot direction.]

Who didn't love elite, high-society parties? The sparkling crystal chandeliers, the gilded grand halls, the ballroom dancers twirling in all their finery – there was nothing that quite matched the splendor and opulence on display when nobles were trying to show off how rich and powerful they were to other rich and powerful people. It was all insidiously vain and self-serving and there were few things in this life that Lysander enjoyed more than these disgustingly excessive parties.

Beautiful women were one of those few things.

Lysander was surrounded by a small gaggle of them as he loitered in a quieter corner of the grand hall, sipping very fine wine from a silver goblet. They were all lovely, in their silken gowns and glittering jewelry as they vied for his attention. It was his party, after all, and he was certainly a very handsome and very eligible bachelor. The way they tittered at any coy jokes as he tried to give them all equal attention was slightly droll, but what could he expect of high-bred ladies? Women of their caliber were after one thing and one thing only – an appropriately well-standing husband.

Marriage was the farthest thing from his mind, but he did enjoy the attention most of the time.

"Not a bad party, Silver dick. It's a shame you're always second class. Ladies you should always go for gold." Lysander turned his head with a slick smirk as a second man joined their private gathering. He knew the man, of course, another wealthy son, with a slightly nobler leaning. His family conducted a fair amount of gold trade, if Lysander remembered correctly (and he always did remember correctly, thank you). The women scowled and whispered disapprovingly at the course language, but boys will be boys.

"Zylberdik, actually, but aren't you so clever?" It was not an insult that he'd not heard similar to many times before, and he was more than prepared to match wits with someone that wanted to try to speak down to him at his own party.

"Ladies, it is quite true, gold might come first in business, but I should remind our good friend that silver always comes second." Lysander couldn't resist throwing a coy grin and wink at the lady next to him and the whole lot of them devolved into scandalized gasps and giggles. Not the interloper, of course, who opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to think of something to answer back, but he simply gave up and stalked away red-faced.

[Paladienne]

Lady Margaret - "call me Molly, please" - Weissman stared at the crowd from over the lace frills of her fan, using the object to hide her face and spy upon the lords and ladies that flitted about her. Molly did her best to hide her sigh of disappointment and dissatisfaction. Why had she come here? She was bored. She'd flitted through her social circles quite quickly, for all anyone wanted to talk about was who was betrothed to who, who was marrying who, who was a better lover, et cetera, et cetera. The little bit of juicy gossip she did hear was not really all that juicy, because she'd heard it before. And since her social circles had failed her in providing any entertainment, she had situated herself against a wall and had snapped open her fan and had begun to watch the crowds for lack of anything better to do. She didn't want to leave and be rude. Besides... if she wanted to answer her question of 'why was she here', she didn't have to look very far.

Her family was a good family. Well-to-do but not what one would consider noble. And they had fallen on hard times and were struggling to get by some days. Her father worked hard, her mother worked harder, and her brother did his best to pick up what was left. Even her little sister did what she could. And, fine, Molly really wasn't here to find someone who had deep enough pockets that she could convince to help her family. She had originally come here to have some sort of social life and some kind of fun. But all she was hearing was pretty gilt and not much else.

And Molly herself wasn't that hard to look at. She was a little over five feet tall, with dark hair curled in ringlets and piled on her head in a stylish imitation of a crown. Her face was heart-shaped and delicately painted to bring out her freckles and her hazel eyes. She was somewhere in between slim and plump. She knew how to fence and how to ride, and she could run a mile if she needed to - and had, but that was another story, and her brother had been black and blue for days because of it - and she could hold her own in a fight. She wasn't a helpless damsel.

Still, she wouldn't be doing much of socializing or fun if she just stayed glued to the wall and didn't attempt to interact with those outside her usual circles of friends and acquaintances. Even if Molly left here feeling as though she had somehow failed her family, perhaps someone might remember her and wish to get to know her better. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all, right?

Sighing, she pushed away from the wall and snapped her fan shut. She lifted her skirts so she wouldn't step on the hem as she drifted across the floor and through the rooms, pausing to chat with this person or that person, before moving on.

As she passed into another room that was filled with sharp gasps and feminine giggles, Molly found herself suddenly being nearly bowled over by a red-faced, scowling young man. He slammed into her so hard that she actually stumbled backwards and would have fallen if she hadn't managed to catch herself on the doorframe. She pulled herself upright and glowered after the boy, for he hadn't even bothered to apologize to her. She sucked in a deep breath, ready to yell at the jerk for being so rude, but she suddenly became aware of eyes on her, and she held in the words, releasing the breath she was holding.

Then she turned a pretty smile on those watching her and said, "I wonder what kind of insult could make a man storm out of here in a tizzy. It must have been serious, indeed."

[Zero]

The tut-tutting from his lady companions was well worth the satisfaction of watching that arrogant fool storm off thoroughly put in his place. Lysander didn't mind the disapproving murmurs thrown at him. They were half-hearted admonishments at best. Gentlemen shouldn't engage in such vulgarity and such. It wasn't even as if he had started the little verbal spat, he'd simply finished it.

Unfortunately the inconsiderate young lord caused a bit of a scene on his way out. Lysander watched a young lady almost get toppled over by his disgruntled guest. The brute didn't even stop to apologize or assist the poor woman!

Well there was simply no accounting for someone else's poor behavior.

"There was insult to his ability to please a woman." One of the young women supplied quietly, causing another round of hushed giggling as they began whispering conspiratorially to one another. Honestly this was probably the most exciting thing they had seen or heard about in weeks given their undoubtedly very proper and sheltered lives. Unless they had dealings with guards or soldiers because he was well aware of how rowdy and raunchy that crowd could be – especially lowborn ones.

Lysander excused himself and stepped nearer to the young woman, his mind turned over who he knew and managed to fish up a name to go with the rather pretty face. Her family did business with his, mostly with supplying wines. It would be disadvantageous not to be a very discerning host to the young lady given their family connection.

"I am truly sorry you had to experience that man's poor conduct, Miss Weissman. I hope this incident won't dampen your enjoyment of my party?" Like any good host he truly did want every attendant to enjoy his parties.

[Paladienne]

Molly looked up at Lysander as he approached her. Somehow, she knew the cause of the scene had been his fault, but it wouldn't be a good idea on her part to accuse him of such. Especially since she seemed to be the focus of angry glowers and frowns from the gaggle of girls he'd left in order to check on her. So she gave him a brilliant smile and lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug.

"No, I don't think it will. After all, that was the most excitement I've had since arriving. Besides, why should I be upset? Any man who's so rude as to run over someone without apologizing to them isn't worth my time or my attention. It's his shortcoming, not mine."

She let her eyes roam Lysander's face a bit. She'd known him for some time, but always through business. Her father had somewhat of a standing contract to deliver wines to the Zylberdik estate - both for profit and for charity - and she had accompanied him on a few occasions. While she didn't know him on a personal level, she knew him by reputation at least. And it wasn't like she disliked him. More, she was civilly cool with him, a polite familiarity that came with their formal interactions rather than friendship. Yet, he wasn't terrible company and, as much of a cad as he was, he possessed a good heart.

She would have liked to get to know him better, but she couldn't bring herself to monopolize his time, especially since the glowers and glares were starting to have teeth.

"This is a wonderful party, Lysander. Thank you for inviting me. I should have found you sooner and said as much. Forgive me for being so rude." Molly said, giving him a small curtsey. "I won't take up any more of your time. It seems your adoring entourage would enjoy your return."

But even as she said it, Molly wished he would refuse. A sudden thought had occurred to her, and if she played her cards right - if she could make it happen, at the least - perhaps she could make that thought a reality.

Her parents didn't think she knew about their troubles, but Molly wasn't blind or stupid. They were working hard and they were suffering, and while she didn't know why exactly that was happening, she knew that if she could do something to help, maybe they wouldn't have to work hard and suffer anymore. And standing before her was the answer to that problem. She would have rather been in love when she considered a prospective marriage, but she would do what she had to do in order to save her family.

[Zero]

Well that was a relief. As host to the party he felt personally responsible to some extent on ensuring everything went smoothly and that everyone enjoyed themselves. The last thing he needed was someone complaining about an unpleasant incident ruining his party for them. Especially not the daughter of someone his family did regular business with. It wasn't like he was close to the young woman on a personal level. Nobody would call them friends, but keeping up with business acquaintances was an important part of his duty to his family.

Lysander couldn't hold back a beaming grin as she complimented the party, though. Sure, Margaret wasn't saying anything beyond what most people were expected to politely say to the host, but it still felt good hearing!

Although that other part actually had him laugh as he glanced back on the girls he'd left to speak with Margaret. They really didn't look too happy, did they? Ah, well you couldn't please all the women all the time. For a moment he hesitated on what to do. On the one hand, it might be rude not to return quickly to the gaggle of girls, but on the other it might be rude to brush off a girl that actually held some business significance.

"They probably would like that, but you've taken up very little of my time, Miss Weissman, and I am very pleased to hear you've been enjoying yourself. I think I'm growing tired of hiding in this side room chatting. Would you like to join me in the ballroom for a dance?" Dancing was something he very much enjoyed and choosing Margaret for his first dance of the evening seemed like a good move. One day he would be the one dealing with her family directly and not just through his father, it was never too early to cement amicable relationships with people he would be dealing with later.

Besides, they hadn't interacted much socially before and she was a very pretty young woman.

[Paladienne]

Molly couldn't believe her ears. Did he really want her to dance with him? His first dance? Was he serious? Studying his expression, she quickly deduced that, yes, he was serious, and she felt heat suffuse her face as her heart gave a little nervous flutter. Why would he ask her to dance? Certainly, there were more qualified partners for such an event, and anyway, Molly was quite certain she had two left feet. All of the dancing lessons her father had paid for had never seemed to take with her. At least, that was what her instructor had said.

But she glanced past his shoulder to see the gaggle of ladies glowering at her even harder now, and she could swear that there was some kind of bite to those gazes. There were a few girls in that crowd she knew only because her family had dealings with them as well, but none were her friends. At least, not friends who wouldn't push her under the horse cart if it meant that they could get to the coveted item first.

She realized that he was waiting for an answer, and if she didn't give him one soon, he would likely move on to a different candidate that would, possibly quite literally, jump all over him. And if she wanted to try to implement whatever fledgling plan that was forming in her head, Molly needed to take advantage of every opportunity presented to her in order to just have a single chance of making her forming plan a reality. Which meant that she needed to give him an answer, and she needed to do her best during the dance to impress him and whoever else may be watching.

But, also, she wanted to have at least a little bit of fun. She needed a good story to tell her sister when she got home, after all.

So, with all that in mind, Molly took a silent, deep breath and calmed her heart, then gave Lysander a brilliant smile. "I'd be honored to dance with you. And I promise, I'll do my best not to step on your toes."

[Zero]

Making women blush could be considered a favorite pastime, almost a sport or game. As long as they were blushing in a good way, of course, simply embarrassing or humiliating a poor girl was distasteful at best and downright despicable at worst. Lysander simply liked to tease a bit of color to their cheeks. A flushed face held a certain charm and allure. He liked the way this blush looked, splashed as it was with those darling freckles.

Margaret had a pretty face. Not that he had taken much time to notice her before. She had just been the daughter of someone his father did business with, and wasn't the flamboyant socialite he was used to being surrounded by at these events. Ah well, he noticed her now.

It also seemed she finally gathered her wits enough to answer him. Lysander wasn't used to waiting on ladies to jump upon any invitation he might extend. Not that he was upset that she took her time to answer, and if she had declined he simply would have asked another girl. He didn't face rejection often, but he did try to handle it with grace and humility when encountered.

Thankfully he didn't have to worry about it. Her smile made his face light up in turn with a responding grin as he offered her his arm, like a proper gentleman, and guided her away from those hateful glares towards the music and twirling dancers in the ballroom.

"Sore toes will be a price well paid for the chance to dance with a lovely young lady, Miss Weissman. I am an excellent dancer, so you just follow my lead and I think we will both come out of our dance relatively unscathed." Lysander's tone was light, airy, and teasing, the playful twinkle in his eye further evidence of such good-natured banter.

He drew her straight out to the middle of the dance floor. There was a waltz beginning and his hands fell into place easily, one holding hers and the other splaying lightly against her waist. "This is an easy one, just three little steps."

Lysander knew he was a good dancer, but since Margaret seemed a little unsure of herself, he tried to go slow and easy. If she stepped on his toes, well, he did say it would be worth it.

[Paladienne]

Molly had to laugh at his words. If she just followed his lead, they'd be just fine? She supposed that was true. She trusted him not to embarrass her on the dance floor, at least. She did a fairly good job of doing that herself when she danced, and even more so when she danced with a partner. Still, she was determined not to cause him as much trouble as she knew she was going to. With her hand in his, she placed her free hand gently on his upper arm and shoulder, as her instructor had taught her. When she felt the warmth of his hand on her waist, even lightly, she couldn't help the flush that suffused her face. She chalked her blush up to the fact that this was the first time any boy - including Lysander - had asked her to dance at a party. Usually she was one of the last to be asked, not the first, if she even was asked at all.

She took a deep breath and focused on Lysander's face, her hazel eyes bright and full of happy amusement.

When the music started, Molly found herself a beat behind, and Lysander was more pulling her along in the steps than the two of them gliding together in perfect concert. Yes, the dance was a simple three steps, but the steps seemed slightly too difficult for her to get the hang of. Yet it only took her a couple of heartbeats to figure out where to put her feet and when, and soon she was in harmony with him, dancing as smoothly as if she had practiced the movements with him before. Her eyes sparkled with joy and her lips were curled in a laughing smile, her face bright with happiness. This was the first time in a while where she'd felt such pleasure.

As they picked up speed, her confidence grew, and a soft laugh escaped her as she spun around under his guidance. She ignored all the eyes on her in favor of the gaze of the young man holding her as they danced, knowing she had his attention at least for a little while. She didn't care who else might be watching.

At least, she didn't until the music wound down, signaling the dance was over, and she misplaced her foot over Lysander's. She jerked her foot off his quickly, but the damage of bruised toes had already been done. Her joyous expression quickly chanced to apologetic, and she gave him a small smile.

"Sorry. Are you all right?"

[Zero]

Lysander looked very pleased with himself as Margaret laughed at his quip, he was always quite proud of his ability to make others laugh. Also everyone was more attractive with a smile on their face, his mother had told him that many years ago and he would never forget those words. They had always proven true in his experience, and now was no exception. He smiled at his dance partner as she blushed, taking the moment to simply admire the happiness in her expression.

Despite her assurance to try not to step on his toes making him assume she was not the best dancer, it only took a short time for Margaret to fall into step with him. Once they were in sync with one another the dance went smoothly. Lysander chuckled softly as she laughed while they spun around the ballroom floor together. He barely noticed that there were even other pairs of dancers moving around them, let alone that they in particular had an audience. It should have occurred to him that some of the young women would be keen on watching who he was dancing with as they impatiently waited for their own chance to snag him as their dance partner.

The young knight didn't stop smiling until the dance was coming to a finish. Getting his toes stepped on made him wince for a moment, but he laughed softly and grinned down at Margaret as she started apologizing for the misstep and asking if he was okay.

"Well you did warn me and I still say it was worth some sore toes." The brief pause between songs was going to end soon, and Lysander finally noticed all the people either changing partners or preparing to dance again with their current one. He especially noticed the pretty, wispy young woman that approached them.

"Can I have the next dance?" She asked, dipping into a brief curtsy and shooting a quick glare at Margaret, clearly unable to hide her jealousy. "I am sure you are eager for a more fitting dance for a man of your abilities than the last one."

She didn't say a more fitting partner, but Lysander caught her meaning anyway. A frown pulled down at his mouth as he looked down at the woman unhappily. He was more than happy to have women faun over him, but being underhandedly rude to another girl just because you were jealous was severely lacking in class! It wasn't like he didn't know that Margaret was not in with that group of girls. They were kind of elite in who they would let in their little circle. Most of them had fair hair, blue or green eyes, and about as thick as a stick.

"I'm sorry, but I think I will go find some refreshment and sit the next one out." Lysander hated the idea that the girls thought Margaret wasn't good enough for them to be friends with them (and by extension him). He smiled and turned back to Margaret. "Are you thirsty? Several of the wines being served tonight came from your family's vineyard. Why don't we go find some?"

[Paladienne]

Molly didn't react to the obvious dig. Yes, she wasn't the most skilled dancer and yes, she wasn't the prettiest thing at the party, but she knew all that and it had stopped hurting long ago. What did make her angry was the obvious waspishness that the girl came after her with. As if it was her fault the coveted prize had chosen to pay attention to her over everyone else. The sad part was, Molly was used to this kind of behavior. She was used to being sneered at, because she preferred to dig in the dirt and lug watering cans and help collect the grapes at harvest time, rather than discover the latest fashions or attend parties or twitter on about who was marrying who or diddling who or whatever the juicy gossip was at the time. She was more practical and homely, rather than superficial pretty gilt, and that suited her just fine.

She honestly hadn't expected Lysander to jump to her defense at the words spoken by the other girl. She had expected him to laugh it off, to try and diffuse the situation so it wouldn't get out of hand or offend delicate sensibilities. Her feelings wouldn't have been hurt at all had that happened; it was just something that was a normal thing in her life. The pretty and rich ones got the special treatment while the homely and less affluent got the scraps. She'd come to terms with this early on in her life, especially when she grew old enough to understand how other girls her age viewed her for choosing to support her family and her family's estate - and those who lived on it - over trying to see who could be the prettiest viper with the most deadly sting and who could land the richest of husbands before anyone else could.

So when Lysander ignored the girl's barb with the flair of a gentleman and turned to Molly with his offer of finding refreshment, what else could she do but accept? Especially since the girl's glower of hate and jealousy had just increased, knowing she was being denied in favor of someone she thought of as less.

Molly smiled at Lysander and asked, "Why? Are you looking for a lesson on our wines, Sir Zylberdik? I could give you several, if you have the inclination and the time." She gave him a playful wink, mostly just to annoy the jealous girl even more.

Molly then turned to the girl, her eyes glinted with something dangerous as she focused on the girl's own eyes. "But, in answer to your question, food and drink would be lovely. I heard your chef makes the most wonderful pastries. It would be a shame not to try one. A healthy figure should be maintained. I wouldn't want to become as brittle as porcelain and twice as fragile. I'd afraid a strong breeze might break me in half."

She shifted her attention back to Lysander with a pleased smile. "It makes stomping the grapes at festival time much harder to do, if you're afraid of breaking your nails or getting dirty. I rather find the grape-stomping cathartic. And it's always a pleasure to see the result of your hard work when it's done."

[Zero]

Lysander was well aware of the viciously competitive and underhanded nature of some of the noble girls that attended these parties. It was all just part of the game, really. They hunted affluent husbands like sport. That was just the way things were. He was supposed to be hunting a suitable wife as much as they were seeking out him and those men like him. Marriage just was a duty he hoped to put off as long as was reasonable. Commitment to one woman for the rest of his life was a daunting thought, especially given the marriageable pool of ladies. It was all about personal gain. The lack of romance and passion was so unappealing. His little dalliances could never amount to anything, but at least they were fun. Being saddled with a woman that was only interested in how his wealth and family name could benefit her was just unpleasant.

The withering looks shot at them both just made him certain he probably didn't want much to do with that particular girl no matter how attractive she might be. Lysander couldn't help but laugh softly at the barbs thrown back in the woman's face. Margaret apparently was not one to simply passively take insult. Well the girl deserved the retort.

"I am a fan of many wines, and am sure that a lesson on how your family makes their delicious vintages would be fascinating, Miss Weissman. We can talk about it over a few of those pastries you mentioned. You heard quite right, of course. Our chef makes fabulous desserts, and it would simply be unacceptable to allow them to go to unsampled. Especially if not doing so might damage your figure!" Lysander offered his arm to Margaret again and gestured towards the room where most of the food was being served. He ignored the even more put out look thrown at them before the other woman stomped off in a huff. There might be a minor reprimand later for this, but he didn't have to entertain any of the women personally.

This was a party to mingle, after all.

As soon as they were out of ear shot of the other woman he smirked and glanced down at his female companion. "You handled yourself quite well, you know. Not just with that harpy, but you misled me about your dancing abilities. Aside from that small misstep at the end you did very well. I think maybe you have just suffered from poor dance partners in the past."

Long tables decorated with white linens and sporting silver trays filled with hors d'oeuvres and desserts were the main focus of the grand dining hall tonight. All the trays had already been picked at, of course, and servants were moving to and fro with more trays full of samples they could offer to the guests. Lysander gestured one over that happened to be carrying desserts, specifically pastries. "Please, do help yourself Miss Weissman. As I said, they're quite delicious. We'll find a dessert wine to pair with them in a moment."

He actually snagged one of the small desserts himself and popped it into his mouth without much flair.

[Paladienne]

"Oh, no, I'm actually a very terrible dancer. But once I get the rhythm of the motions, and if the steps are easy enough, I can pretend that I know what I'm doing. At least until the very end of the dance, when the music stops. I always seem to take one more step than is necessary and, quite literally, step on toes." Then, at his comment about handling herself, Margaret grinned wide. She probably knew all the tricks in the proverbial Book of Siblings when it came to defending herself against verbal barbs and snide comments, as well as any slights worded as compliments. "I have both an older brother and a younger sister. If I let their remarks go unanswered, then I might as well let all remarks about me go unanswered. And I'm simply not the type to allow insults to find their way into my skin and scratch me until I become disillusioned and bitter about myself. Or anyone else."

She studied the pastries and selected one that seemed to be a sugar-dusted puff pastry. She examined it, trying to see what it could possibly taste like without actually doing so just yet. But, Lysander had asked for a lesson, and since he'd mentioned dessert wines to pair the treats with, she might as well display her knowledge and show off a little bit.

"Well, you have to find the right dessert wine to go with the dessert you wish to have. The darker the colors of the dessert are, the darker, too, the wine should be in compliment. There are three factors to consider as well," Molly smiled, holding up her free hand to use her fingers to count off those factors. "First, acidity. Second, intensity. And, third, sweetness. Acidity wines may pair best with fruit. With intensity, the more intense the flavors of the dessert, the more intense the wine is. And for sweetness, the actual wine itself should be sweeter than the dessert."

She held up her puff pastry as an example and took a dainty bite of it to get the flavors across her tongue. "Mm! My gods, this is incredible!" She placed her fingers against her lips to hide the fact she was speaking with food in her mouth. She swallowed and grinned. "So, this little tidbit is sweet and buttery, so it would probably go best with a white wine or a sparkling wine like champagne."

Molly looked then at the pastry in Lysander's hand and smiled. "Yours seems to be coated in chocolate, or may have chocolate in it. For you, Mister Zylberdik, I would suggest a red wine, particularly a late harvest one, if you have one available, or a port."

Suddenly feeling as if she had spoken far too much and had begun to sound like a know-it-all, she popped the rest of her pastry into her mouth and turned her attention to the rest of the desserts to see which one she would like to try next. She could almost feel her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning with embarrassment. Surely he really didn't care that much about wines. She was passionate about them, yes, but that didn't mean everyone else was.

[Zero]

It wasn't just pretending if you actually managed to pull it off well, was it? Lysander had half a mind to point out that if she could actually do well "pretending" then she still was doing well. Something told him that would just lead to a circular argument of him trying to assure her she could dance fine enough and her insisting that she couldn't. That would be an unnecessary waste of time and source of irritation. He'd rather enjoy a woman's company if he could, rather than provoke her needlessly.

Usually he was fairly good at gaining a woman's appreciation.

Not that he thought he wasn't entertaining Margaret, she was just different from the girls he was used to. She didn't fall all over herself trying to gain his attention, she wasn't the type to simper, and she didn't appear to be trying to flirt her way into a marriage invitation. It made him curious. What were her motivations? Margaret didn't have to continue in his company, she could have politely declined his invitation to dance, or to come here to sample desserts and talk about wine. She didn't decline, and she appeared to be enjoying herself despite not appearing to be focused on winning a rich husband. Maybe she really was just interested in becoming acquainted with him because of their business associations.

That was kind of refreshing.

Lysander gave the young woman his undivided attention as she began on a lengthy spiel about how best to pair wines with desserts. It wasn't that he was completely ignorant about the topic, but wines were her family's specialty. Margaret was clearly passionate and knowledgeable on the subject. Listening to people talk about things they were interested and invested in was always a fun experience.


Seeing someone enjoying and appreciating something was also always pleasant, and he smiled broadly at her exclamation as she tasted the pastry. The way she pressed her fingers against her mouth drew his eyes to her lips.

Lysander had a reputation. He was acutely aware of it. Everyone knew about his near insatiable flirtatious habits. Asking Margaret to dance, or to join him here hadn't held sensual intent, he hadn't thought to attempt to woo her. She hadn't seemed like the type to appreciate his provocative or suggestive banter. A woman like her was not often his target for such pursuits. Not because she wasn't pretty - she was - but there was often little reward for the effort.

Still, he felt a familiar thrill shoot through him.

"I believe we do have some fine ports currently available." It was amusing as she turned from him, seeming a little embarrassed. Did she think she spoke too much? Margaret was not the most demure woman, but that was fine with him. Lysander moved closer to her, by her side and just shy of being considered too close. His voice was low and a little husky, whether intentional or not. "May I make a suggestion?"

Not waiting for confirmation, he picked up on of the small desserts, it was a soft spongy cake with cream and a slice of strawberry, and held it up to her. "This one is simply to die for."

[Paladienne]

Molly glanced at him as Lysander moved suddenly, his words echoing in her ears, and she was startled to find him holding a dessert up to her face. She wasn't sure what to make of the action or how to react, and for a while, she just stared at the cake before her eyes trailed over his fingers and hand, to his wrist and arm, to his shoulder, and then finally to his face.

She knew well Lysander's habits. Who didn't? He had a reputation, and she was sure that he would want to protect it. But she hadn't thought that he would ever turn his charms on her, and really, she wasn't sure that he was. He'd been a perfect gentleman, and still was, although she was now trying to puzzle out his motive for holding the cake up to her face. Did he want her to take it from his hand? Lean forward and nibble a tiny bite while he held it? She couldn't figure it out. She couldn't figure him out.

Sure, she had decided that she'd try to wrangle a marriage out of him - honestly, who hadn't at this party? - but she had also decided she wouldn't force him into it. She wanted him to make the proposal out of his own volition. The last thing she wanted to do was make him do something he didn't want to do. Like her, he was young and he enjoyed his independence and his ability to move as he saw fit. He didn't want to be tied down just yet, and to be betrothed and chained to the point that he was miserable. Margaret could appreciate that. She felt the same way. She didn't feel like she was ready for a husband. Or motherhood. There was still so much she wanted to learn and do, and she wasn't ready to give up anything.

On the other hand, she knew that her family was struggling and needed money, and Lysander had money. If she married him, then she'd have access to his money, either directly or through him, and she didn't think he'd object if she gave her family some financial help.

Still, Molly didn't want him thinking that her purpose for being here was the same as all the other girls trying to gain his attention. And, perhaps - just perhaps - she might not have to marry him after all to get a little bit of help. Perhaps if she just explained her family's situation, he might be willing to extend to her a loan. Even if it took her the rest of her life, she would repay his kindness.

She blinked as she realized that he was still waiting for her to do something. He'd been standing holding that cake the entire time while her thoughts had been wandering. He probably thought that she was crazy.

Well, Molly decided, there's no point in counting your chickens before they hatch. Just have some fun.

With that much decided, Molly leaned forward and took a dainty bite of the cake held between Lysander's fingers, her eyes never leaving his face. It was as if she were attempting to call his bluff with that little action. She drew back with her little bite, then reached and plucked the cake from his hands, cradling it in her own. She chewed and swallowed, then grinned at him.

"You're right. That one is quite delicious. I'm not sure I'd want to die for a piece of cake, but it's definitely ranking up there as one of the best deaths I could imagine."

[Zero]

Lysander knew his little ploy could go either way, but he was nothing if not boldly flirtatious. Without risk you could not have reward. So he waited with bated breath as Margaret seemed to turn over the offer in her head. The lady kept him waiting for quite a while, actually, and he was starting to think he had struck out, but then she leaned forward and took a little nibble from the cake. Her pretty hazel eyes never left his while she did it.

A playful glint lit up his eyes and his smile was broad enough that it actually made the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. He was counting that as a solid victory. Margaret's words brought forth a soft chuckle. It was tempting to make mention of her clearly not being aware of another kind of little death if cake truly was "up there" on ways to go.

That was a bit vulgar for present company, even to Lysander.

"I'm so glad you approve." This was not how he had imagined the evening going, but he was not complaining in the slightest. It was too bad he had never paid the young woman much attention before. She had spunk and fire. A welcome diversion from the other ladies' simpering. Flirty as he may be, it did get old when they fawned so easily. He loved the attention, but there was just no challenge and it was obvious what they wanted from him and he was not interested in giving it to them.

"So, dancing and dessert, what else would the lovely young lady ask of her host?" He honestly was very curious.

[Paladienne]

"Wh-what would I ask of you?"

Molly couldn't deny that she was startled by Lysander's question. For a minute, her heart fluttered as her thoughts suddenly turned to the entire purpose of her entertaining him. Since he'd opened the door, she could go ahead and ask for the help, couldn't she? What was the worst he could do? Refuse? Somehow her family was making ends meet, even though things were much tougher than they had been before, so even if Lysander did refuse, Molly had time to discover another way to help her family. She opened her mouth to put forth the question, but found that her voice wouldn't work. She closed her mouth, and pondered her inability to just ask the question. She'd thought about it enough. And she wasn't the kind of person to wait for something to fall into her lap or hope that the person she was needed to ask questions of would just miraculously know exactly what she needed without her having to speak a word.

And yet she could no longer bring herself to ask Lysander for just a little help, even though she had decided to. Whatever she had planned, it seemed to have just tossed itself out a mental window. She wondered if it was because she was having fun with him, or if she was simply enjoying his company and wanted to be able to continue to enjoy it. She didn't want to ruin whatever was forming between them by asking a question that no doubt others had asked before. She didn't want to be seen as 'just like everyone else' by Lysander, as someone who only wanted his money and nothing more.

But he was waiting for an answer to his question, and Molly knew she had to give him one. The only problem is, with her original plan scrapped, she didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to ask for. There was nothing he could provide for her that she couldn't get herself, but she also didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "What could I possibly ask for?" she said at last. "Honestly, Lysander, I can't think of anything. You've been gracious and attentive, and you've given me quite a bit of your time already despite not having to. Are you sure you shouldn't be spreading that wealth around a little? Not that I mind, you know. I rather like the idea of being the center of your attention, but I also know what a chore it is to be a host. You can't ignore everyone in favor of a single person, however much you might want to."

Molly met Lysander's eyes with her own and grinned. "Besides which, if this were something I was hosting and I was tired of dealing with people, I'd probably fill a plate with goodies and go hide somewhere for as long as I could. I once hid in the stables with my little sister, just to avoid having to talk with one more person, and I kept finding straw in my hair even a day later because she and I got into a fight over who got the last goodie." She laughed. "I won, of course."

[Zero]

"Yes. What does Miss Margaret Weissman want of me?" The way she stuttered over the words brought a slight twinkle of mischief to Lysander's eyes. He knew the question had taken the poor girl off guard and put her on the spot. It was a very bold question, after all. Would he get a bold answer? Maybe a coy one?

No, he didn't think this was a young lady to be coy with anyone about much of anything. Lysander wasn't disappointed when she finally began to speak again. It was an astute answer, but he suspected that it wasn't the whole truth of it. Then again, he didn't expect her to blurt out her intentions either. Only foolish people showed their full hand in a game of cards before making the final play.

"A great many women seem to enjoy being the center of my attention." Maybe it was a tad boastful, but it was also true. He was a very eligible bachelor and quite handsome and charming, if he did so say himself. Lysander chuckled a bit at the image of her wrestling in the straw with her sister over sweets. "Well that is one way to end up with straw in your hair. Not the way I usually end up picking straw out of my hair, but certainly a way.

"Hiding does seem like a fine idea. Would you like to slip away from the noise and bustle with me?" Still with a playful smirk, he offered Margaret his arm again.

[Paladienne]

Molly lifted an eyebrow at Lysander's offer, and the corners of her lips curled upwards in an "I'm game" smile. She shook her head, not as an answer, but at his boldness. Certainly she wasn't used to his antics, though she knew his reputation well, and she wasn't about to let him make her another notch on his headboard. At least, not without a few promises in return, written on paper, signed and witnessed and sealed in an unbreakable manner. And if Lysander intended for something more to happen, Molly was going to definitely ruin his mood by mentioning this. He'd likely hate her for it and wouldn't want anything to do with her afterwards, but she was fine with that. She came with a price, and if he wanted what he wanted, he was going to have to pay the price.

Her smile turned into a more genuine one, making her entire face light up with anticipation as well as a little bit of happiness. The fact that he had asked her out of all the other girls here wasn't lost on her, but at the same time, the happiness was tempered with a healthy dose of wariness. She had her plan firm in her mind and she would stick to it, reminding herself over and over again of why she was here in the first place just so he couldn't sway her. She was pretty certain he would try to, if his intentions were as she was assuming, but if they weren't, then she wouldn't have to mention her thoughts at all. She could keep her personal feelings and thoughts safely hidden behind a wall of silence, and she could simply enjoy time with him that she otherwise wouldn't get. Time she wouldn't have gotten at all, if she had decided not to accept the invitation and come to this party.

"Very well," Molly said at last, her smile turning almost mischievous. "So long as we're not going to be picking out hay from anywhere, I'd love to hide with you. But first..."

Before she took hold of his arm, she swiped another plate and piled it with goodies, then placed another plate on top of it to keep everything she'd taken from falling onto the floor. Holding the two plates with one hand firmly, she slipped her other arm through Lysander's and grinned at him.

"It would be an insult to your chef if we didn't take some snacks with us. And besides that," Molly winked at Lysander, "this saves us from having to venture back here to get something to eat."

[Zero]

"My sweet lady! I am scandalized. Surely you do not think so little of me as that I would not have somewhere a little more refined to secret you away to than some dusty stable?"  His tone was clearly playful as he dramatically put a hand over his heart to truly complete the properly exaggerated offended look. This was the reason that he loved parties. Yes all the people and dancing and good food and good drink was nice, but it was once he found someone truly interesting to spend his time with that the best moments of parties would begin.

Lysander's eyebrows shot up as Molly loaded a plate with treats for them to take with them to whatever little hiding spot they found away from the noise and bustle and eyes of the party. A grin split his face as he watched her and listened to her explanation.

"What genius, taking rations means we can hide even longer." The compliments were genuine as she slipped her arm around his and he started leading her away from the dining tables. Well since she started this, he thought it was only prudent he made a contribution to their provisions. Lysander grabbed an unopened bottle of wine from a bowl of ice as they passed a crooked grin on his lips. "Those treats will need to be washed down with something, naturally."

The sneaky young lord knew exactly where he wanted to take this one. He lead her away from the party into the parts of the house not open to guests, before opening and slipping out of a set of veranda doors into the private gardens. This was not the front courtyard where guests gathered in the sunshine at events, but a place meant for the family's personal use.

It was a quiet haven for them.

There was a bubbling fountain in the center of the rose hedges, but it was a grassy knoll that he guided her towards. "This is the best place on the grounds to lie in the grass and stargaze on warm nights. The view of the surrounding mountains is pretty majestic too. What do you think? A worthy hiding place for the beautiful young lady?"

[Paladienne]

Molly stared around the garden, her mouth slightly open as she gazed at the beauty of the flowers and huge leafy plants that were bathed in the light of the moon and the stars. She was certain it must be even more exquisite in the daylight, but even at night, it was stunning. That he had chosen to bring her here of all places made her smile brightly once she remembered to close her mouth. She could hear the gentle hum of a fountain somewhere in the deeper reaches of the garden, and she could feel the cool night breeze blowing through the gardens, carrying with it the scents of flowers that she both could and couldn't identify. As hiding places went, it was certainly unique.

Molly soundlessly followed Lysander as he took her deeper into the gardens. She spotted the fountain she'd been able to hear earlier, in the center of rose-covered hedges, but he didn't stop there. Rather, he led her toward a knoll that rose up like a gentle wave in the grass. In the dark, Molly couldn't see much of the mountains Lysander spoke of, but she believed him that it must be beautiful. She grinned at him and settled into the grass, putting the plate down carefully so as not to spill any of their treats.

"Well, it's definitely high on my list of perfect hiding spots," Molly answered him as she tucked her dress under her. She flopped back onto the grass in a rather unladylike way, folding her fingers together on her stomach as she stared up at the fiery orbs in the sky. "Next time my family has a function, I'll have to remember to invite you personally, so I can show you the best hiding spot within the vineyard. The mountains are too far to see well, really. They're so distant they look tiny. But you can see every star in the sky as clearly as you can see a glowing candle alone in the dark. I've studied quite a bit about them in the spare time I'm granted."

Molly smiled a little bitterly then. Spare time. She didn't have much of that anymore, what with trying to keep her family from falling farther into debt even as she struggled to get them out of it. She'd tried to take a few hours to herself to pursue what she'd enjoyed, if only to get her mind off what her possible future might be if she didn't succeed, but her thoughts inevitably turned to what she had to do, rather than what she wanted to do.

Molly shook her head to chase those thoughts away and focused on the here and now, focused on her time with Lysander. He was truly charming, a good friend, and she wished that she had gotten to know him long before now, if only so that she could have more confidence in asking for help. Still, Molly had decided against asking, because she didn't want him thinking she was only after him for his wealth. She liked him. Not his money.

Realizing that she had been quiet for some time, Molly shook herself and sat up, hoping that her motion covered the turmoil her emotions were in. "For example," she lifted one arm then and pointed, smiling, "that big one that's glowing bright blue. That star is called Kirvan, and it's part of a constellation called The Scimitar. You can kind of see it, if you follow Kirvan south a little bit to a cluster of stars that looks like a hilt, and then if you follow that cluster back to Kirvan and go north and slightly east, you can see several stars that make up the blade of the weapon."

Molly pointed then to a different collection of stars. "And that one is called The Amphora, because it looks like a giant vase. There's a legend that my family passes down, and it says that one of the gods took such a liking to the wine of mortals, especially the wine created by my ancestors, that he swept down from the heavens and stole a cask for himself. To celebrate its taste, the god then put that cask into the sky, so that all would know where the best wine grapes grew." She shifted her arm to point to a third constellation that she could see, then realized that she was babbling. Heat suffused her face and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm sorry. If I'm boring you, I'm sorry."