It Never Tastes the Same

[Ursula Black]

Open to a gentleman at Lucy Pettigrew's birthday party.

There was probably some unspoken rule that it wasn't in good taste to pursue flirtation with other gentlemen at the birthday party of your former lover's mother. In fact, it wasn't really in good taste as a married woman to pursue flirtation with gentlemen at all. Ursula wasn't letting that stop her, however, she had had a strange conversation with Mrs. Pettigrew and enough champagne to finally put her at ease after an evening so far of keeping a paranoid eye out for former lover in question. She raised a hand to her intricately styled hair and as discreetly as the first inklings of intoxication would allow, loosened a ribbon but didn't remove it.

In artificially buoyant spirits, Ursula rid herself of her empty glass and imperiously swept across the room, imagining herself to be a picture of grace and beauty as she did so. In the back of her head somewhere was a little hope that Thom was looking on from somewhere and feeling pangs of something. She wouldn't try to look for him, however, she was buzzing and in no mood to pine.

Suddenly turning back to look at where she'd just come, she was thoroughly pleased to see a gentleman bending over to pick up a burgundy ribbon. She slowly raised a hand to the spot in her hair where it had been only moments ago, and prepared to catch the man's eye when he straightened up again.
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NOVEMBER 5TH, 1887 | OUTFIT | @''