Dex and Bertie
"Mr Kessinger." In spite of the ups and downs of the evening, it seemed impossible to keep a smile from lighting Bertie's features at the sight of the gentleman. Then his gaze took in, top to toes, the costume adorning Dex's person, and his lips parted in a slight daze. Surely that ensemble could not be considered decent, even at such a decadent party. What if women swooned?
"I, ah, I hoped I might see you here. Or there, rather." Bertie twisted and gestured toward the antiquities on display, not far off. "Have you seen the gallery? All Greek, I believe, but that's more your area than mine." A sudden thought occurred to him and widened his eyes. "Are they from your collection?"
One of them had seemed familiar, but it might have been from a museum, a Cambridge lecture, or even a library, not necessarily Dex's home. Bertie was chagrined still at just how little of such an astounding collection he'd actually noticed at all, on his visit. He'd had other matters on his mind.