Georgiana didn't like having secrets kept from her, and she was too bullheaded to realize that her beau was trying to give her a gift. "Sam, what are we buying?" she hissed, tapping her fingers against her arm.
"You'll see, my dear. Please, don't spoil this," he pleaded, sighing as he felt the tensions rising between them. "This is for you. If you don't like him we don't have to buy him at all." This caused her to raise a brow at him.
"What, a person? You're buying an actual person?"
It was then that she heard the clanking of heavy chains and turned her gaze to the man being led out by Mr. Clark. At first she frowned at the sight, but as he was led closer it didn't take her long to be stunned by the man before them. He was dirty and unkempt, a stark contrast to her dress of fine silk and lace and Samuel's suit. As she looked up to her fiancé, Georgiana was confused and a bit concerned for the pleased look upon his face. He extended his arm in a gesture towards the pair as he met her gaze with a twinkling of hope.
"Georgiana, this slave is a Maoin. You remember those, right? They dance, they sing." The man was practically brimming with excitement now. "And he's for you, my love, if you find him acceptable. I'm sure he would serve you well entertaining for all of your little parties. I thought this...might be an acceptable gift to you for such an occasion."
Occasion? Georgiana still wasn't connecting the dots on his grand speech, but as the slave was brought closer she stood from her chair. "Thank you for the ideas, but...if he is acceptable," she echoed, stepping closer with him to look over the shorter man.
The more she looked the more she liked the contrast of his darker skin and light hair, but she had serious doubts about whether he would actually dance if this was how he was normally kept. And then she saw the marks along his back. It seemed he noticed at the same time as he reached out to touch along the darker scarring. "I don't like these, Mr. Clark, he's damaged." Georgiana, however, was fixated upon the slave's hair again, as well as the jewelry on his ears.
"I can guarantee his continued ability to dance, Mr. Belton," the man assured. If he cannot or will not dance, you may return him to his current owner. No strings attached." Samuel seemed satisfied with this.
"You really think they would like him?" she asked, distractedly trailing her gaze along his body as she moved to stand beside the slave.
"Of course, my love," Samuel breathed, excited at the prospect of her accepting him as a present. "Do you like him?"
"He's very... Well, he doesn't look like he's been taken care of. He's dirty. And he's being sold like this?" She shot Magnus a puzzled look, certain that the seller hadn't bothered cleaning him up at all.
"You can treat him how you like, Georgiana. Clean him up, keep him pretty. Have him entertain, dance, or do any work you wish. He would be entirely yours. A gift for...our anniversary."
"Ah," she spat coldly, finally led to the reasoning behind this odd display. "Well, if he dances like the one we saw before did, that would be lovely. I'm sure most of our friends have never seen the likes of him." This sent Samuel in a beeline for Magnus as he reached into his pocket for his coin purse.
"Then it's a deal, Mr. Clark. If he dances. If he doesn't by the end of the week then you'll be seeing us again."
"Of course, Mr. Belton," Magnus spoke steadily, very pleased to see his buyer so eager and already showing off his money. Handing the leash off to Georgiana, the auctioneer turned towards the desk and pulled a paper closer to them. "Now this outlines his price, which is what we already agreed upon. This includes my fee and compensation for the buyer's personal time today." Samuel was already nodding, far too eager to part with his money at a shot at impressing his fiancé.
"That's fine," he said as he quickly counted the money in the purse to make sure it was still correct for him.
Georgiana held the leash attached to the man's bonds loosely as she continued to slowly survey him. Without knowing his history of escape she thought the chains were a bit much. "When did you last eat?" she wondered aloud. "And...what's your name? Or what do you want us to call you?"