He'd begged Madam the question of who he should wait by the door in anticipation of, noting her dress and trembling excitement. Doctor Jekyll, she said, whispering and clutching the petals of that bouquet of sin the scoundrel brought yesternight. The butler kept silent.
Then and now. He opens for the man at first knock, but hesitates to do anything but sullenly meet this blackguard dead in the eyes. "My lord."
"G-good evening!" He says it a little too loud. His voice cracks. This man knows his shame, if indirectly. Or so Jekyll thinks...because no one heard them yesterday right??
"...Is Miss Vasquez on her way?" Is that why he can't come in?
Ashamed, as any man taking advantage ought to be. He oozes moralistic disapproval.
Too bad Paloma has listened since an hour before the agreed upon time, and calls: "Let him inside! Please."
Unable to deny her, he moves aside and breaks eye contact with the lord.
She's waited in literal breathlessness and an opera coal brushing past the knees, draped over a magnificent gown made acceptable for its muted gray-violet hue. It takes everything to wait for him in the parlor and not rush out into his smile.
Nothing could possibly be better than getting away from the butler and his judgemental, oppressive gaze. He rushes past as fast as he can without actually running, keeping himself in check. Although for a moment another part of him wins over with a triumphant sneer in the butler's direction.
But it's a relief to finally see Paloma, all the more after that moment if pain.
"Oh!" He beams, too embarrassed to find any other words for his delight. She looks lovely.
Relief that he's come even knowing her to be fallen in every way that matters to everyone else floods to the tip of her toes and crown. And he's not dressed for an evening at the East End but something fitting for a lord, a lady ...
Paloma minds the presence of a nearby maid and contains herself, standing. "My lord, you are very well," she fumbles giddily. Well what? Well met? Health?
The maid's expression sours, eyes lowered but exposed to the truth of what nauseatingly infatuated fools they are. She marks the change in the mistress from the quiet, distressed waif she'd been around the manor's previous master, so cannot begrudge them too badly. At least there's some light left.
Paloma's eyes cannot stay demurely averted for long when she'd rather they be full of Henry. "I am readiest! Does your man wait in the outside?" Expecting a yes, she inches across the opulent carpet. Carlos never restrained his tastes. Her fangs are evidence enough of that.
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moritat2015-08-17 04:59 pm
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Then and now. He opens for the man at first knock, but hesitates to do anything but sullenly meet this blackguard dead in the eyes. "My lord."
no subject
"...Is Miss Vasquez on her way?" Is that why he can't come in?
no subject
Too bad Paloma has listened since an hour before the agreed upon time, and calls: "Let him inside! Please."
Unable to deny her, he moves aside and breaks eye contact with the lord.
She's waited in literal breathlessness and an opera coal brushing past the knees, draped over a magnificent gown made acceptable for its muted gray-violet hue. It takes everything to wait for him in the parlor and not rush out into his smile.
no subject
But it's a relief to finally see Paloma, all the more after that moment if pain.
"Oh!" He beams, too embarrassed to find any other words for his delight. She looks lovely.
no subject
Relief that he's come even knowing her to be fallen in every way that matters to everyone else floods to the tip of her toes and crown. And he's not dressed for an evening at the East End but something fitting for a lord, a lady ...
Paloma minds the presence of a nearby maid and contains herself, standing. "My lord, you are very well," she fumbles giddily. Well what? Well met? Health?
no subject
Although he certainly isn't in good mental health, to say the least. If not other things.
"Ah, yes, you too...!" Still no idea what sense she means in. Or that he means. But he does know there's servants around.
"Are you ready head off or shall I give you another moment?"
no subject
Paloma's eyes cannot stay demurely averted for long when she'd rather they be full of Henry. "I am readiest! Does your man wait in the outside?" Expecting a yes, she inches across the opulent carpet. Carlos never restrained his tastes. Her fangs are evidence enough of that.