The wind on his face was a singularly refreshing sensation as Damien held his proud black stallion at a canter. Nightwish shook his head, discontent. He wished to have his head and gallop headlong through the park. Indeed, Damien was sorely tempted to give it to him. The fetters of decorum and propriety chafed uncomfortably at them both. As much as he despised the constraints of polite society, it was in his own best interest that he observe them. Too much unwanted attention would be troublesome indeed.

Keeping stride with him, Gerard sat astride a beautiful bay gelding. When the pair of horses had slowed to a gait that better allowed for conversation, he remarked on Damien's disposition off-handedly. "You seem less than pleased this afternoon, Damien."

"Your powers of perception never fail to amaze me. It is true, I am not in the best of moods at the moment."

Gerard gave a mock-bow. "Glad to oblige. I think I will venture a bit further and attempt to ascertain the cause of your discontent as well. It would appear that you are still somewhat bothered by the outcome of our efforts last night."

"I cannot deny some measure of discontent concerning the manner in which I was received," he replied curtly. "Mrs. Marwick was far less than courteous."

Gerard grinned, flashing white teeth. "Such a reaction is quite understandable. I find it hard to imagine that any mother would approve of your acquaintance with their daughter, once they had heard the dreadful rumors that follow your steps, Roskin." He paused, reigning in his mount, which had made a futile bid to break into a swifter gait. "Miss Marwick seemed disappointed as well. Rather more disappointed than I would have thought, seeing as she had only just met you."

Damien glanced at his friend, only to see him looking right back, a rather smug and expectant expression upon his handsome face. Sighing, he swept his hat off his head with one hand, gathering the reins into the other deftly. Pulling his fingers through his hair, he grimaced. "Once again, your powers of perception astound me. You are correct, we had met before the formal introduction was made. I encountered her in my ambulations through the garden, and managed to slip away before we were discovered by her mother."

"And that," chuckled Le Feuvre, "is exactly why mothers are less than pleased to discover your interest in their daughters."

Damien did not deign to reply. He instead urged Nightwish into a canter once more, quite outstripping his friend, who hastened to catch up, laughing all the while.

Isobel listened as Caroline further expanded on the rumours her father had mentioned the evening before. Her friend spoke gravely and in all seriousness about the matter for clearly the idea of Isobel being acquainted with such a man disturbed her.
"But Caroline, surely they are exaggerated!" Isobel protested once her friend had finished.
"They may be but the fact that there are any rumours at all should tell you that man is dangerous!" Caroline argued.
"I refuse to believe that." Isobel said firmly calming her horse who had become agitated as she had done so. "If you had only met him you would see that he is a perfect gentleman!"
"I hardly think mere moments in his company and with your mother beside you gives a good judge of his character." Caroline said dryly and then narrowed her eyes as she watched Isobel flush.
"There is more to this than you have said. What is it?"
Isobel sighed and told her friend of the meeting in the garden though she left out how close they had been seated and how he had made her feel. Some things were best kept to herself as she knew Caroline would not approve. Perhaps if it had been anyone else she may have been a little more understanding but she seemed determined to believe Damien was a blackguard and not to be trusted. A thrill coursed through her as she remembered the previous night and her illicit meeting, just the thought made her feel flushed.

She realised that Caroline was speaking to her and sighed as she heard her friends words." Izzy, you must not be alone with such a man ever again. If anyone had caught you..." Caroline paled clearly imagining the situation.
"But I was not caught so no harm done. Besides we were only talking."
"That is not the point. He is dangerous izzy...if you believe nothing else I say believe that."
Isobel sighed and smiled at her friend, she knew Caroline was only trying to protect her and so she would listen to her lectures and warnings with patience but she would heed them or not at her own choice.
"Come let us canter awhile, Artemis is restless."
She urged her horse to a canter not waiting to see if Caroline or their belated escort followed. She smiled as the wind rushed past her revelling in the feel of the breeze through her hair, the power of the horse beneath her and the freedom of riding at such a speed. It was exhilarating and she only wished she could give the horse its head. But that would be too much and so she contented herself with a canter not caring as wisps of hair escaped her pins and floated around her face.

The rhythmic thud of Nightwish's hooves against the earth lulled Damien into a sedate calm. The trees blurred past them in strokes of green and brown, punctuated by the occasional yellow, blue, and green of other riders. The great horse shook his head restlessly again, snorting his displeasure. Damien patted him on the neck soothingly, murmuring consolations to the stallion. Gerard had fallen behind, having stopped to engage the conversation of some young lady.

Reaching the end of the park, Damien guided Nightwish back around. From this end, it was possible to see most of the other ladies and gentlemen. There were fewer riders today than was usual. Apart from himself and Gerard, only three other groups had ventured out this day. This was not a surprise to Damien, for the day had been unbearably hot, and it was only just now beginning to cool down with the approach of evening. The sun was lowering toward the horizon, a welcome occurence, and the trees cast long shadows, striping the grass. Damien cantered past Gerard, and a snippet of the conversation reached his ears before being whisked away. "Don't know why you associate with him---"

Towards the other end of the park, he observed a small group of riders. Damien discerned two young women and their chaperone, who followed at a distance. He could not begin to guess their identities as of yet, but his attention was drawn to the one in dark green. The way she carried herself was strikingly familiar. Even at this distance, he recognized the restraint in her bearing, as if she wished to gallop headlong through the park.

It appeared that Miss Marwick enjoyed jaunts through the park on horseback.

As she cantered around the park Isobel reflected on just how much she felt caged and restricted by society around her. Gentleman also out for the day did not require a chaperon and could mostly come and go as they please. Whereas she had to continually remember Caroline's brother and to remind herself not to stray too far ahead. It was frustrating and Isobel wondered if she would ever come to terms with her lot in life or whether she was destined to spend her days feeling caged and restrained. The only time she felt free was when she rode Artemis and if it was up to her she would spend most of her time doing just that. But unfortunately her mother had other ideas and her days were consequently filled with soirées, balls, luncheons and any other function her mother could gain an invitation to. Her father was a little more understanding but even he saw it as her duty to marry well and provide him with suitable grandchildren.

As she began reluctantly slowing Artemis, she had left Caroline and her brother a little too far behind, she spotted a lone rider in the distance and something about the way he sat his horse was familiar. She realised with a thrill that it was Damien Roskin, immediately she was torn between doing the safe, sensible thing and pretending she had not seen him. No doubt it was what Caroline or her mother would want her to do. Or she could acknowledge him and further their limited acquaintance. But in doing so she risked angering her parents further as well as her closest friend. She understood why Caroline thought he was dangerous as has she herself felt fear around him? Yet he had behaved impeccably, betraying none of the behaviour he was supposedly known for. In the end her heart and adventurous spirit decided her and she deliberately slowed her horse as he approached allowing him to catch up with her. When he was in earshot she inclined her head in welcome.

"Good day Mr Roskin, it is a pleasure to see you again."

Damien watched Miss Marwick's approach, and when it became clear that she intended to address him, he obligingly slowed Nightwish's pace to a trot. "And the same to you," he responded, dipping his head respectfully. "I did not know you enjoyed horseback riding. Do you come here often?"

His gaze traveled back to the rest of her party. He felt he recognized her companion, though he had never been introduced. The gentleman, however, was a stranger to him. It would only be a few moments before the other two were upon them, which displeased him considerably. Already he could see the disapproval etched on the young lady's face. No doubt she would steal Isobel away from him at the soonest opportunity. A small frown curved his mouth downward.

"You seem to be a great proficient," he commented, noting her impeccable form and handling of her horse. Had he been unaware of the stature of her family before, he could no longer claim ignorance, as the quality of her riding habit, tackle, and mount were unquestionable. His gaze returned to her face. Her hair was pulled back, out of her face, but it had not been so the previous evening. He recalled the way it had fallen about her face and neck, the curls resting against her pale skin alluringly. He traced the shape of her cheekbones languidly, sliding across the jaw; his eyes caressed her as his hands could not. "Are you planning to attend Mr. Friedrick's birthday festivities this evening? I have heard that none exceeding the age of 25 have been invited, and that there will be partner games, as well as a scavenger hunt."

Isobel noticed how well he sat his horse and how comfortably he sat the beast, it was a magnificent animal and one that seemed eminently suitable to its rider. She admired Damien's athletic appearance which was enhanced by the well tailored clothing particularly at the shoulders and thighs.
"Whenever I can escape yes. "Isobel replied honestly. "I would be here more often if not for those seemingly endless prior engagements."
She saw his gaze intent on her face and flushed slightly unused to being looked on in quite such a focussed manner, it did not bother her exactly but it did leave her feeling oddly breathless and warm all over. What was it about this man that caused her to react so? Was there something wrong with her? She knew she did not always behave as she ought but she did not think she was abnormal not really. She would have to find someone to talk to about this as she did not like being confused and unsure of herself.

She smiled at his comment and nodded graciously. "As do you."
She thought on his next words trying to remember if they had an engagement that evening and then she remembered that she had indeed been invited to Mr Friedrick 's festivities though her father had not at all been keen on her attending given how the two of them were not invited. But her mother surprisingly had intervened suggesting she should go with Caroline and her brother. Her mother's eyes had lit up at the thought of yet another opportunity to try and marry her daughter off. Until then Isobel had been dreading the evening to come but now she felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought that he might be there.

"I am attending with Caroline Beaumont and her brother Edward Beaumont. Do forgive my rudeness." She said looking over her shoulder at the two figures rapidly advancing. They had clearly seen the two talking and planned to put a stop to it.
"But I really must go, I look forward to seeing you this evening if you are attending." She said before nodding quickly and turning her horse around. She nudged her horse to a canter intending to head her companions off.

Damien watched her ride away, expression unfathomable. He remained where he was, lost in contemplation of her parting words, until Nightwish shook his head anxiously, jolting his rider out of his reverie. Spinning the horse around, he urged him back the other way, rejoining Gerard once more.

"Well, your humor has certainly changed drastically," Le Feuvre commented dryly.

Damien grinned. "I have discovered that a particular young lady is to attend Mr. Friedrick's birthday celebration this evening."

Gerard grinned back, but refrained from further comment.

((Sorry it's short. Also, sorry for the delayed response. I became unforseeably busy the past week. If you'd like to skip ahead to the party, I'm all for it.))

Isobel stood in one corner of the room fanning herself with a delicate yet beautiful fan that was covered in symbols of the orient, it matched her gown perfectly not that she cared much for that sort of thing. But her mother would have suffered a hernia if she had not assured that she was perfectly groomed and accessorised. She smoothed the silken dress absently with one hand liking the feel of the soft silk. It was a new dress one her mother had initially refused to allow her to wear but after seeing how flattering it was on Isobel she had relented. It was dark green in colour and was a change from the heavily laced and embroidered gowns that were currently all the rage, it was quite simple being high waisted with a square neckline and tiny sleeves. But the simplicity only served to enhance Isobel's curves and her natural beauty.

She heard people entering and leaned forward slightly trying to get a better look but then she sighed and stood back again, whether she was willing to admit it or not she was waiting for a certain gentleman and thus far he had not made an appearance. She could not deny that the party seemed dull and lifeless without Damien making it interesting though Caroline and Edward did try and keep her entertained. Though she was avoiding Caroline mainly as her friend kept trying to find out what she had been talking to Damien about in the park. Isobel had told her it was merely pleasantries but Caroline did not believe her and she had taken to watching her all the time like an overprotective hen. If she continued this behavior it was doubtful she would even be able to speak with Damien if he ever arrived.

The only good thing was that she had seen no sign of Lord Rowley and hoped that this was not a place he would attend given the age of the guests present. She noticed a man approaching and smiled warmly as Edward Beaumont made his way to her side. Caroline's brother was an attractive young man with the same eyes and colouring as his sister. He was very popular with the young ladies and Isobel often teased him about how many he seemed to be dallying with at once. There was no romantic inclinations between the two as she had known him for a long time and looked on him as the brother she had never had.
"Cheer up Izzy, surely the party's not that bad?"
"No of course it isn't." Isobel replied quickly.
"But..." Edward prompted.
"Well There was someone else I was hoping might attend."
"Ah yes the infamous Damien Roskin yes?"
After Isobel said nothing Edward looked at her in all seriousness. "Look Izzy, I think you are old enough and wise enough to judge for yourself the character of someone. So I will not look too closely if you and he spend some time together."
Isobel smiled grateful there was someone who treated her as though she was intelligent.

Damien stepped out of the carriage lightly. A number of people were making their way up the steps to the entrance of the great manor. Their chatter reached his ears, though it was mostly unintelligible, though from the snatches of conversation he did catch, he was certain that the discussion held no interest for him. Straightening his cravat, he started forward, mounting the steps quickly. There was some sort of commotion at the door, however, and the entire group (which was composed of several ladies and a few gentlemen), came to an abrupt stop.

Damien's fingers twitched in irritation. It appeared that one of the ladies had forgotten something in her carriage. They were debating whether or not someone should be sent back for it. It was eventually decided upon that one of the gentlemen ought to turn back and retrieve the item, though the question of which had yet to be answered. Growing rather impatient, Damien cleared his throat.

One of the gentlemen turned towards him in surprise, a question in his eyes. Damien recognized the man as Mr. Clocksin. They had met once or twice before, but Mr. Clocksin was an airheaded young man of only nineteen years, and his opinion of the gentleman was rather low. "Ah, Mr. Clocksin," he began, striving to keep the edge out of his voice as he gestured towards the door. "It is my desire to enter the manor."

Mr. Clocksin glanced at the door, momentarily bewildered, until one of the ladies at his side giggled. "Ben," her voice oozed syrupy sweetness with every syllable. "I think he means to say that we are inconveniencing him." Mr. Clocksin's expression cleared and he grinned in embarrassment.

"My apologies, Mr. Roskin," he responded promptly, ushering his friends over to one side to allow him access to the door.

Damien merely tipped his hat and strode through the door. The room he found himself in upon entering the manor left no doubts as to the standing of the Friedrick family. A cursory glance acquainted him with lavish furnishings and expensive artwork. Groups of people stood around the room, talking and greeting one another. He found that he recognized most of the guests. It seemed that Le Feuvre had yet to arrive.

Entering further into the room, he moved to stand off to one side, preferring solitude to conversation in that moment. The scents were already overpowering, and he could feel the beginnings of a sore head. Sighing, he swept the hat off his head and handed it to a servant standing nearby. The servant took his name and hurried off with a low bow.

Isobel winced inwardly as her dance partner once again trod on her foot, she smiled through gritted teeth and was glad that the dance was nearing its end. Her dance partner had been so happy that she had accepted his invitation that she did not have the heart to spoil his pleasure. He was clearly very young, really only just old enough to attend polite society and compared with Lord Rowley he really was not so bad. If Isobel did not feel more like an older sister to the young man she might have noticed that he was actually quite handsome and when older could very well be the toast of the town. As the dance drew to a close the young man reddened and stammered a thankyou. Isobel smiled gently and curtsied graciously accepting his thanks and extending her own though this seemed too much for the young man and he left hurriedly.

"Izzy, what did you do to poor Henry Middleton?" Caroline asked as she came to stand beside her friend. She looked flushed and had clearly been enjoying the dancing and merriment.
"Nothing." Isobel protested. "I merely smiled at him."
"Now Izzy you should know better than to dazzle young boys." Edward chided as he rejoined the two of them.
"As oppose to you making impressionable young girls swoon!" Isobel scoffed.
"I have no notion of what you are talking about." Edward said innocently.
"Of course, you know nothing of Fiona Hadley being hurried home by her mama after an evening in your company. Mrs Hadley spoke of nothing else for weeks." Caroline added.
"You mean I have a reputation?" Edward asked looking pleased with himself. "Perhaps I will now attract young ladies like a magnet!"
"You would not be the only one." Caroline said darkly and Isobel turned her head to see what her friend was looking at and she felt her heart leap as she saw Damien Roskin standing in one corner. She stared at him caught between hoping he would look her way and desperately praying he wouldn't.

By this time, dancing had commenced, and he did not fail to notice the sizeable crowd of young ladies which had developed around his station. It quite defeated the purpose of avoiding them if they merely came to him instead. Trying to curb his annoyance, Damien endeavoured to make his way through the milling young ladies. As he passed by one such young lady however, he was unlucky enough to have passed within arms reach.

A pair of small hands came to rest at his elbow, holding onto him firmly. "Now where are you sneaking off to, Mr. Roskin? Surely you do not have another young lady hanging at your beck and call already?"

Damien turned to face Miss Emily Havershaw, a small smile falling into place upon his features. "I have no notion of your meaning, Emily," he replied, shocking those nearby with his casual use of her first name. "I will venture that you have come this way to beg a dance?"

The forward young lady's eyes twinkled mischieviously. "Certainly not. I do not beg; I demand."

Damien laughed heartily. "Well then," he commenced, bowing to her politely. "May I have this dance, Miss Havershaw?"

Miss Emily Havershaw claimed lineage from an ancient and noble family that had enjoyed its place in the upper eschelons of society for generations. She had been blessed by God with a pleasing figure and an attractive face, as well as golden locks that framed a flawless porcelain neck. Her lips were made plump and inviting by a layer of crimson paint, and her natural musk was complemented by the scent she had applied at her neck and wrists. The season before, Damien had had his way with her; she had not spewed any talk of marriage or commitment afterwards however, as she had been promised to another since her birth. On occasion, she still demanded his attention for an evening.

She gave him a gracious smile, and he led her out to the dance.

Isobel watched the lady make her way to the dance floor with Damien and wondered if it was for the best if he showed interest in another. Spending time with him was clearly against everyone's wishes and as such this would most likely turn out for the better but that did not stop her feeling a little disappointed as she had enjoyed his attentions. Perhaps her mama was right in that she needed to get her head out of the clouds and stop dreaming as dreaming would never find her a husband which seemed her lot in life. She glanced around the room trying her best to look at at the gentleman with a more favourable eye and wondering whether she could see any as marriageable material. But try as she might she could not imagine being married to any of them and she had begun to wonder if she was simply not the marrying kind. Not something she would ever mention to her mama of course as one did not remain unmarried without inviting scandal.

With a sigh she strolled about the room nodding to those who greeted her and curtsying to those above her station such as Countess Sittingbourne, perhaps the youngest to be wed of the current season. Isobel shuddered delicately at the thought of being wed to a man almost three times her age as the countess had been. No wonder the poor girl looked so put out all the time and Isobel prayed fervently that she would not end up in a similar position. Caroline had suggested she make a match with her brother Edward but he was like a brother to her and could not countenance the idea. She was distracted from her thoughts by a young man whose name she could not remember asking for her hand for the next dance which was just beginning. Without a polite reason to refuse Isobel accepted gracefully and allowed herself to be pulled onto the dancefloor.

The dance was enjoyable. There were few enough ladies whom Damien could be impressed upon to stand up with, and among those, there fewer still who could give him pleasure in the act. Miss Havershaw was a talented dancer. As he led her through the steps of the dance, he found himself grinning in spite of himself. He had stood up with many a more accomplished dancer in his time, but there was something refreshing about Miss Havershaw that was often missing in other partners. She took true pleasure from the act, and her whole-hearted enjoyment was contagious.

That is, until Miss Marwick joined the dance in the arms of a young man he was unfamiliar with. The moment her hand settled into his, Damien's good humor dissipated. He was not known for possessive tendencies---indeed, what did he care if Miss Havershaw or any of the others had trifled with other young men on the side? He himself was not serious in his attentions with them, and so he thought it crass to expect it from them. And yet he was set on edge watching another man leading her through the dance.

Lord Rowley had been so obviously disliked that Damien had not felt threatened in the least. It had been clear that attentions from that quarter were highly discouraged. This particular gentleman, however, was neither old nor particularly unattractive. She did not seem opposed to his attentions, though he could see no real encouragement of them either.

Miss Havershaw did not miss his change in humor. She followed his gaze to where it rested upon the flushed features of Miss Marwick. "Oh dear, Damien. I did not know you to be the jealous type." Her tone was teasing.

"I am not." Damien's reply was firm. Miss Havershaw stifled a giggle at his ineffectual denial, cover her mouth daintily with a hand.

"Yes, of course not, how silly of me to even think it." He detected a note of sarcasm in her voice. Luckily for him, the dance was ending in that moment. She curtsied to him, thanking him for the dance dryly, though her gaze drifted back to Isobel slyly. "I can see that it would be inconsiderate of me to demand your attention any longer. Perhaps Mr. Le Feuvre is unengaged." And so saying, she departed his company, moving away to find the gentleman in question.

Isobel allowed the young man, whose name she still could not remember, to swing her about the dancefloor. He was not actually a bad dancer and Isobel relaxed somewhat enjoying not worrying about her toes being stepped on. But although it was pleasant it did not succeed in firing her blood or making her eyes shine with enjoyment for she was, most unfortunately for the young man, bored and wondering when would be considered acceptable for her to excuse herself and return home. Finally the dance ended and Isobel curtsied and thanked her dance partner graciously managing to do so without mentioning him by name, as she still could not for the life of her recall what it was, and he did not seem to notice. She noticed after the young man had walked away that Miss Haversham was looking at her and not in a particularly friendly manner. Isobel smiled at her, the smile being polite but no more, and then dismissed her as being unimportant. She was quite happy to leave the other woman to her spite as long as it was not aimed at Isobel.

"Miss Marwick is it not?" A voice asked quietly behind her.
Isobel turned and curtsied in surprise to Countess Sittingbourne, who had approached her, who inclined her head in acknowledgement of the courtesy though she did not smile and her pale blue eyes were cold. Here was a young woman who had become cold and hard in order to cope with the situation she had been thrust into and Isobel felt sympathy and pity in equal measure for the unhappy young woman who had no option but to hide behind a mask
of cold civility.

"Countess. A pleasure to make your aquaintence." Isobel said.
"I doubt it." The Countess said bluntly and Isobel was shocked into silence unsure how to respond to such a direct statement so she instead remained quiet and hoped the Countess would perhaps realise her error and enter into polit conversation once more.
"Oh don't look so shocked, I spend enough of my time following social etiquette and occasionally I like to be rid of it. I was bored and decided you looked like an interesting diversion for a few moments before I must go play the happy wife again."

the Countess looked at Damien and smiled. "Now there is a man who will never trap you nor make you be what you are not. Oh there are rumours about him of course but that makes it all the more deliciously exciting don't you think?"
Isobel was surprised that the Countess voiced what Isobel had thought in secret when she allowed herself to think on it but she would never admit that to a stranger and instead she merely smiled at the Countess.

"I have one piece of advice for you and I suggest you heed it lest you end up lie me. Enjoy your life and do not allow yourself to be constrained by its rules and petty traditions. If you are attracted to him then go get him and your family be damned."

With those the Countess walked away and left Isobel feeling very flustured and she could a blush on her cheeks, never had she heard someone of the Ton speak in such a fashion and she honestly did not know what to make of it. And yet her words rang true with the rebellious soul within Isobel and she could not help but wonder if the other woman was right. She decided then that she did not care about the rumours surrounding him or what other people thought she wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to feel the thrill of his company, the excitement and the edge of danger being around him evoked in her.
She walked towards him with a warm smile on her lips. "Mr Roskin, a pleasure to see you this evening."