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Post by Mercutio on Mar 2, 2009 18:14:57 GMT -5
"Oh, yeah, gossip," Mercutio said, waving a hand dismissively as he examined the carpet lint. "Nearly as good as action."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 2, 2009 18:44:49 GMT -5
"Well, I wouldn't know," Scarlett said, rather primly. Ladies, of course, never acting. "I tried action, and look where it got me."
Mercutio wasn't exactly meant to understand, though it was somehow soothing--in a way--to have her frustration fall on ears not her own.
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 4, 2009 9:50:48 GMT -5
"Oh?" Mercutio asked softly, eyes glinting. "Inform me, where has it gotten you? As one who doesn't traffic in gossip, I really wouldn't know."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 4, 2009 10:29:05 GMT -5
This redhead, with his quick tongue and insolent manner, was not the sort Scarlett believed did not indulge in gossip.
"My marriage annulled and my name a joke," she said anyway, because at least someone was listening. "I'm alone in a strange country, and I'm not having any fun."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 4, 2009 11:13:20 GMT -5
"Not having any fun?" Mercutio repeated, in an incredulous and laughing manner. He'd meant to harp on her marriage, but he'd been distracted by this damnable lie. "Then you're not looking in the right places, madam."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 4, 2009 13:01:34 GMT -5
Scarlett blinked at him.
"Who are you to say that!" she cried suddenly. "First I was in mourning, and then I was married, and now I'm disgraced. No one invites me to parties, and anyplace I do go it's them, together, happy and... and..."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 6, 2009 8:42:04 GMT -5
Mercutio grinned at her, lazy and sly, as though he'd been waiting for this opportunity the entire time. "Why, I'm Mercutio." He bounded upright, leaning forward as though to comfort her, the fingers of one hand splayed as he talked in a see here sort of gesture. "You don't need Andrew Blakeney. Andrew Blakeney is a scat. If what you really want is to waste your time in the upper class, what you need is a trick, a lick, a bit of common sense. Leave all the men panting and the women mad with jealousy, drive them insaaaaane with wondering at the mystery of you."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 9, 2009 14:28:15 GMT -5
Scarlett looked momentarily taken aback by this demonstration. Gentlemen where she was from were, if not entirely refined (for a true gentleman should be able to ride and shoot, if only in matters of sport), then at the very least not quite this... ostentatious.
Not that Mercutio (and what sort of a name was that?) was anything like a gentleman.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" she cried, for she knew she was resplendent in her gown, but there was only so much one could do, unchaperoned. She had often, in private, huffed at herself and wished it were not so. But one's reputation was important. The trick was to have as much fun as possible without having so much that it left one open to unscrupulous men and scandal.
After all, the fun part was being surrounded by dozens of men in a public arena, not whatever they hoped would happen after hours in private.
Suddenly her eyes narrowed. His suggestion seemed alarmingly similar to others she'd heard recently.
"You aren't, by any stretch of the imagination, acquainted with the Vicomte de Valmont."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 9, 2009 15:14:09 GMT -5
Mercutio paused, a little distracted. His lips formed the word 'Vicomte' before slackening, his gaze blank, and then memory struck. "Ah! Yeah, I think I met the fellow a few weeks ago. Slender sort of thing, looks as if he's always amused by some private joke? He was in the cafe when Andrew entered, trying to charm- " Alex- "Some feminine form. Why d'you ask?"
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 9, 2009 15:45:06 GMT -5
"He suggested something very similar," she said, a slight crease forming between her brows that Mammie would have scolded her for. "Only think he rather wanted to be the vehicle of such time-wasting."
M. de Valmont's words had stuck with her, fascinating her even as she'd been offended by him. But that wasn't the way to get what she wanted; falling into some man's bed for the sheer perversity of it was unthinkable.
"You're right," she said suddenly, surprising herself because again, consciously she had no cause to confide in a waiter. "What's the point of looking breathtaking when it's obvious I'm not having any fun? I need to have as much as possible--within reason, that is--and make everyone divinely jealous."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 9, 2009 16:07:54 GMT -5
Mercutio made an impatient sort of hand gesture, of course, but his lips were quirked in amusement. Oh, how empowering. He could just turn cartwheels in the aisles, watching her decide to believe in herself. And educate small children, rescue kittens from trees, oh, yes.
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 9, 2009 16:18:37 GMT -5
The last two were hardly likely, but at least Scarlett had turned a corner. It was not like her to be depressed, to linger in her own misery--tantrums were more her style--but the loss of Andrew who had been so close was more of a blow than her 18 years had ever seen.
"I've been going about it all wrong," she continued. "I used to know how to do this," she assured him, though in reality she hardly cared what he thought. She bit her lip, already more attractive what with her shining eyes and rosy cheeks. "I just need to do it again. Perhaps a ball..."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 9, 2009 17:12:54 GMT -5
"Yes, yes, you've got it," Mercutio said, something telling him that this was a good time to slowly begin edging his way out. "Thatta girl..."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Mar 9, 2009 17:37:01 GMT -5
Scarlett fixed her gaze on him.
"I can tell very well when you're condescending to me, young man," she said archly, which was ridiculous seeing how old see herself was. A plan was forming in her mind. "And see that you're not quite so forward if if comes to you serving drinks at some function of mine."
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Post by Mercutio on Mar 9, 2009 19:03:00 GMT -5
"Young man?" Mercutio repeated incredulously, for the exact same thought had occurred to him. "Ho, I bet I'm older than you, o imperious one, and you- ah ah ah ahhhh, no. This, you see, is where you are being the forward one, and while I am all for you unleashing that on your unexpecting social class-" A lazy smile, heavy-lidded eyes, for Mercutio was very pleased with that idea- "You will not use it on me. 'M not usually a waiter, 'm a back-stager-man, so unless you want me to haul your guests up the staircase to save wear and tear on their diamond-encrusted shoes, I am afraid you are out of luck."
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