Try to move your feet

Alexander wasn't here yet. She could not blame him. She had expected it. And still she was disappointed. Maybel stood on the side of the ballroom, sipping champagne, because she probably had a look of small death on her face as she watched the people on the dancefloor. She had really been trying to hide her contempt as her father had taken his first dance. And then she was jealous of Lottie twirling around like a love-struck foal with her brand new fiancé. She would usually have thrived on parties like these, but the whole "her father's wedding" left a sour aftertaste in her mouth, even if she was drinking her favourite. She licked her lips and forced another fake smile as some man came to congratulate her with her father's new wife. There had even been a man that dared to drop the "step-mother" bomb. Really, if another single person would utter that word, she would slap him.

Maybel pushed the loose strands behind her ear as she gave her empty glass on a passing servant. She softly patted her lips dry with a finger, as she did not want to ruin her makeup. The night was still young. Dear lord, she should be dancing and talking. She should be in her element, flirting with man, making them stumble over their words. But no, she could only sulk. She hated this night and she would have to sit out so many more hours of it. Or.. was her father still in the room? If he left, she could leave too, right? But then again, she would not want to hear even a pin-drop of him consummating his marriage. Another drink it was then. If she could not leave this party, she might be able to forget it. And with small steps she made her way across the side of the ballroom, glaring at everybody that dared to follow her.
fitcheck

After meeting with her father, making Angelina's life a bit more difficult and generally surviving this night, she already had had a drink too many. But it had not hit her that bad yet, so another glass it was. But as she was making her way down to the bar, she was being stopped by a man. She looked at a fine piece of suit before her eyes slowly went up. She produced a sweet smile, but her eyes were not smiling as happily. She was looking in the eyes of Mister Villiers, one - if not - richest families in the upper ring. Of course she knew the man, as he knew her.

Maybel straightened her back a bit as he complimented her, which was almost not the creative anymore, but more an obligation at this point. She folded her hands together and kept them in front of her. ‘‘I know, Mister Villiers,’’ she said with a cheeky smile. Why she decided to start acting like an arrogant bitch, she did not know. But she really did not care anymore at this point. She felt like everybody at this point was out to get her, so she maybe confident carelessness was the shield she had to pick. ‘‘But thank you. You are too looking sharp, as always.’’ She moved forward again, kind off wanting to pass him, carry on with her loathing day, but she caught herself from being rude at the last moment.

She placed her hand on his lower arm for a second. ‘‘I was just getting a refreshment, could I get you something?’’ She looked up sideways at him, not knowing what overcame her. Maybe it was his reputation. I mean, a man of his age and standing should have been married years ago. She liked men like him, those who were swimming against the stream. Out of all company here, he would be one of the worst, and why not have a bit fun with that? Write about that, bitch Countess.

She was amusing, was she not? The way he laughed at her uncommon remark. She would use to glower in the look on a man's face when she said something rather out of pocket like that. But she just did not care that much right now, as she was in a particularly sour mood. But she forced herself to pretend for a bit longer, and she forced another smile when he thanked her. She should not be that ungrateful anyway. Just talking to William Villiers would make many girl jealous. He was handsome, successful, filthy rich if not that. But like every man like that in the upper ring, he had a bit of a reputation. A man of his age should have a wife and children. Well, there was your answer.

But god, maybe that would be just what she needed. Maybe that was the reason she placed her hand on her arm, offer him a drink. And of course he accepted. Maybel raised the corners of her mouth once more as she agreed to follow him over to the bar, studying the look on his face. She just knew that there would be more to this and she just wanted to drink her dissapointment of the night away. She just would have to forget about it, rather regret it. But, lord Villiers announced his intentions soon enough. She gave a half smile and chuckled dishearteningly. ‘‘It is a shame,’’ she said sarcastically. She shrugged and looked back at William with a hint of defiance. ‘‘Maybe I'm just not desirable anymore,’’ she said with that same tone of voice. It could not be further from the truth, as she had just declined everybody who had dared to talk to her past her nasty looks. Especially men that were obviously beneath her. But even that - apparently - was getting noticed. Then she looked back up at him. ‘‘Or is it too unfathomable to think that a woman could decide what she wants?’’