Victorian Nocturne

Muted conversation. The quiet rattle of forks on plates. Music from the string quartet that played in a discreet corner. Men and women in their best evening clothes. Irina's gloved hands lifted the cup of tea to her lips for a sip of the dark liquid within the delicate china. She'd been sifting through her invitations, the ones that had been gathering in her hallway since her arrival in London, and picked this one at random. The host was the Earl of Something-or-Other, she'd forgotten the location already, but she'd remember later when she bid the man goodnight. If she'd been in any mood to husband-hunt, this was where sh would have done it.

And even if the evening was a bit dull so far, she was at least getting the opportunity to practice her English, which was improving in fits and starts. And she was more or less in her element regardless, amid the high society of the city. She was currently discussing the latest novel by a famous writer with the Earl's wife, perched on a small couch as she and the other woman conversed. Interesting talk was something she had missed since Pyotr's death. As old as Husband had been, he'd been of the belief that women could be perfectly intelligent creatures given the chance, and although she loved Anna and Sergei neither of them read much or were interested in affairs of the world.

( A New Acquiantance )