Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Sorry, had a bit of a storm and we all know how hectic that can be don't we? Anyways, it knocked out our connection so I'm on at my mom's work.))

As the carriage came to a slow halt, Danielle stepped out with the help of the servant. Smiling some she held her dress up to protect it from the dirt of the ground. Danielle watched as the same servant who helped her down opened the large, heavy, oak door with it intricate carvings. She didn't think she could ever actually get used to living like this. Someone waiting on you hand and foot was not really her dream. The few servants who were in the halls dusting furiously looked at her strangely as she slipped off her shoes and treaded up the large steps. Balls and what not weren't really her thing.

Going into her chambers Danielle's personal servant helped her get out of the dress and corset, leaving her to change into a long night-gown that obviously belonged to her grandmother. It was nice, but Danielle wasn't fond of the long slits in the sleeves. As she walked out from behind the screen Danielle went to the bed and took off of it a silk robe that fell to the ground- another thing of her grandmother's that came from her youth. Danielle had her own clothings, but night are not so much.

Requesting for tea in the library, the servant nodded and walked out of the room. Danielle followed her but turned left instead to head to the library. As she entered Danielle smiled. Her favorite room for obvious reasons. In the center of the wall facing north was a grand window that stretched from the cieling to the floor. In front of this curtained window were two chairs with a small, round table in the middle of them. Sitting down and taking her current book from this able, Danielle began to read Chaucer. Fixing herself a cup of tea as the young girl brought it and sat it down.

Ariana continued to study him, holding her gaze in his eyes. Yes, his eyes were what interested her the most. They were cold, unrevealing of emotion, and yet, there was something about them that was fascinating. She knew he had experience hiding his emotions; she couldn’t place the reason, but she still felt like she could see right through him, right through his eyes. By his appearance, and his nature, she searched her memory for rumors, or any information about a man like him. She had heard in the crowds, and from her servants when they came back from the markets, about a certain earl. He was known as a hunter, and finally retired. As a matter of fact, an acquaintance of hers had advised her to go to him for help in her little predicament.

It made sense as she still held her non-blinking gaze, he was the perfect fit for that description. His dark, slight brooding looks gave him away. The way he had chased after her, silently, just clicked into the puzzle. It was him, she was sure of that. She had heard of him, and his cousins. Rumors were flying everywhere, about these men, and their grandmother who was determined to see each one of them wed to a woman. She chuckled mentally at that thought.

Her own brown eyes, had a look of interest in them. Her gaze was steady, and she didn’t bother concealing her curiosity of him. He was handsome, just like the others had said, but looks were deceiving. Her eyes did not have a piercing quality, she did not look like she could see through another person, but in reality, and she took in many details every time she saw a person, a friend, an acquaintance even. She always found that it was easier to see what a person was up when they did not suspect that you were trying to read their every move.

“Indeed,” she said, choosing her words carefully, maintaining that neutral voice, “Still, it is an honor to have attracted the eyes of the Earl of Bradford.” She gave him a small smile in greeting. She did not expect him to figure out who she was, even though there were plenty of rumors flying about her as well. Who would suspect the Marquess of Reich to be a lover of fairy tales?

Many men have advised her to get married, to leave the affairs of land, and politics to the mind of a man. Women should never be burdened with such things. She had refused all of her suitors so far, she never found someone that she could relate to. Besides, she didn’t need a man to run her estate, she was doing that quite well. Despite her father’s death, she was still keeping his fruit orchards in excellent condition, and still made as much profit from them as her father did. No, she needed a man for protection, one that would let her run her own business, but would keep others away, that could keep her cousins and uncles away. She didn’t need a loyal man, he could have slept with hundreds of other women for all she cared, but she needed a reliable one. Perhaps, he was the one?

Marcus looked after the girl, half amused. Clearly, she hadn't been having a good time. Ah, well. Couldn't be helped. He walked (though in truth, it was more of a saunter) inside the main hall and positioned himself at the banquet table with a small green apple, surveying the scene.

"Father, you are being completely unfair to me." Terryn folded her arms over her chest and glanced absentmindedly out of the carriage, her hair blowing lightly around her face in the breeze. She had her lips pursed and she was tapping her foot under her silver skirts, so her father couldn't see her unladylike behavior.

"Please darling, this is for your own good." Sitting across from his daughter, the poor old earl dabbed at his forehead with a lightly dampened kerchief. He was always flabbergasted at how his daughter never burned up in this stuffy carriage cars. Of course, she usually had her head sticking out into the cool air as though she were a dog. "It will be nice for you to get out into the world instead of being stuck in the stuffy old manor all day and night."

"I enjoy the stuffy old manor thank you very much." She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes and frowned. "Serina put you up to this. I heard you talking the other night. She's making me go because she wants me to be married off to some fool whose only goal in life is to impregnate women and turn them into domestic slaves." She shook her head in disugst at the very thought of her hands becoming clumsy after doing nothing but needlepoint and feeding babies.

She was right, of course. She usually was. But still, he couldn't admit it. Instead, he sighed and leaned back as the carriage came to a stop in front of the large building. "Don't cross your arms, you'll wrinkle your mother's dress." He made sure to mention her mother, as she knew it was the only way he could get her to obey.

Which she begrudgingly did. She dropped her arms to her sides and awaited the footman, who lept off of his post at the back of the carriage and opened the door, extending his hand for Terryn to take. She eased herself out of the coach and looked up at the bright manor in front of her. She could see inside, and noticed that there was already a full room. As her father climbed o ut behind her, she turned to him, a bored expression on her face. "I don't think there's room for us." She rolled her eyes as her father protested and took her by the arm to the front entrance.

Dimitri

Her use of words was amusing to the say the least. The description of the women of the ton was apt however. She seemed to hit the nail right on the head with it. They were clucking hens, and they always had some form of gossip to share. He wondered if they ever got tired, but knew that the very question was ludicrous. How could they ever get tired when there was always some new scandal brewing? And, who wanted to be the last in the know, the least fashionable? Surly it would be some sort of sin. He nearly scoffed at the notion of keeping up with the fuss of hens that ran around with nothing better than to chase around for news.

Dimitri had a feeling he got his great distaste for the women of the ton from his grandmother. She had instilled that trait in all of her grandsons of that he was sure. It seemed, no matter how much they disliked the ton however, the ton was always a buzz with something about one of them or the other. They were the sort that you either loved to hate or you loved. The women particularly loved their little group. How could they not he wondered? Didn’t they all have what mother’s told their daughter’s they needed to make a find catch? Yes, they were the very ones mama’s seeked even with their so called scandalous reputation. He was sure a few tales about his endeavors had been embellished, but only a few of course.

Dark brown eyes assessed the woman who called her self Duchess Reich. According to her they would met again. He would look forward to that meeting. He had settled in to watching her leave when she told him that she was indeed the one he had been looking for; she was the one that needed his help but would not tell him the reason tonight. Before he could speak she had slipped out of the room. He did not like that one bit that truth was written across his face.

Why would she tell him she needed him and then flee? Was she afraid someone would over hear and therefore endanger herself. Was she even truly afraid of this person or was she so afraid that she dear not allow them notice how long she had been missing from the ball room? He did not know the answers to any of his question but he did want to know them, and so he followed her out of the room.

If it had been any other woman he would have said she was playing a game but in the end he would have met her at her chambers and allowed her to know the rules of the games they played. Rules he would have made up, rules he followed and the night would have ended in pleasure for them both. This was not about pleasure however, this was something more risky.

It was something he could really sink his teeth into and he was more than anxious to know more about what was going on.

As he stepped out into the ball room he searched the room and found her almost instantly. It was amazing how quickly he had detailed every feature of her body from her hair straight down to the pointy toes that peaked out from under her dress but only barely. Her whole expression had changed, she looked more frightened than daring and he could only imagine the reason was the very one holding onto her. Dimitri was never a man to sit back and allow another to handle a woman roughly. He only hoped his cousin did not see it least he go into rage on the woman’s behalf. Yes, it was better for him to move quickly.

He came upon them just as he heard the man ask her for a dance, the rest of the conversation he tucked away. With out much announcement he moved in swiftly. His hand caught under Arianna’s elbow and he pulled her to his side brushing her cousin’s arm away. Or at least the man had called her cousin, he wasn’t to sure of the relation.

“ Darling, I’m sorry I left you to your own for so long. You will forgive me of course.” Dimitri tucked her arm in his and pulled her close into the shelter of her body well away from the man that had turned her from strong definite woman to a scared white faced captive looking for a means of escape. “ You must introduce me to your friend, my love.”

Ariana could not help her surprise, when, not just one, but two men came to her rescue. One was Duke Bradford, and the other was, well, she didn't exactly want to search her brain at the moment. She opened her mouth to say something, when her cousin spoke first.

"Ariana, I see you've been keeping things from me. I see not one, but two suitors coming to your aid cousin, so allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Reich, cousin to this lovely lady that you have set your eyes on," he flashed both men a warm smile that did not meet his eyes.

"Very well cousin, I shall leave you for now. I hope to see you at home then," he smirked, taking her hand, and giving her a small polite kiss before walking into the crowds once more.

Ariana let out a breath she realized she had been holding. She still shook somewhat, but she knew the danger had passed for now. She turned to the two men before her, and courtsied before them.

"Thank you kind sirs, for helping me out of a rather difficult situation," she said humbly. As she looked back up at them, her eyes had not regained the light they had earlier on. It would take a bit of time for her guard to be let down again. Now, all she wanted to do was go home, but she did not dare to venture out alone, not right now. She was thinking how she would fully get out of this predicament, when the answer presented itself before her. It was an interesting idea, but not one that Ariana wanted to entertain. She had only met Duke Bradford, she couldn't ask that of him.

And yet, something about him made her trust him, she couldn't shake that feeling off. She stalled by taking a glance at the other man that had come, yes, she had seen his face from somewhere, hadn't she? She guessed he was one of the cousins of some order the women were all frantic about. She knew the Duke Bradford was one, but the other, well, he was one of them.

She had now settled on her position, and decided to take the chance. "Duke Bradford," her voice started out quietly, hesitantly, "May I be so bold as to ask of you to accompany me home. I do not care for the ball much as of now, but I dare not go out alone." Whether he would agree to it or not, she had no idea.

"Darling, please try to look at least a little willing to make acquaintances." Lord Arvin looked to his daughter, his arm hooked with hers. He had a pleading expression on his face, though he knew that Terryn's currently icy eyes proved that she would not listen to him. Just like her mother.

Terryn scoffed. "Why? I am not willing to make acquaintances. It seems awfully rude to put on a false pretense if I do not want anyone around me." She entered the room and took in the scene. Flirtatious women in tight corsets, crushing their ribs and hurting their feet from the small shoes they wore. Terryn had outright refused to wear either, and currently had on only a looser fitting bodice under her dress and silver slippers. The men were no better, lusty and pursuant of the poor vixens, dancing their ballroom dances simply for the chance to speak with their partner later on, or perhaps not do much talking at all. Terryn caught sight of one man in particular. He was looking at her. For a moment he looked stricken by something, which brought a slightly devious smile to Terryn's face. Maybe he was afraid of her and would leave her be.

"Gran..." protested Marcus, his arm being pulled out of his socket by the deceptively strong grandmother in question.

"It can't hurt to just meet her, Marcus," she retorted, giving his arm an almighty tug.

"Good lord," breathed Marcus, as something near his shoulder cracked loudly.

His grandmother had by this time actually pulled him in close proximity to the girl and her father, and it was no longer an option to refuse politely. His grandmother's face seemed to light up as she 'recognized' the man.

"Lord Arvin! What a pleasure to see you again," she said, leaving Marcus to choice but to muster a small pleasant smile towards the two.