Lady Lottie

Barely able to contain herself, Lottie Hartwell giggled as she and her dearest friend, Beatrix Langley, slipped free of elderly Sir Cedric Bell. Laughing, they ducked behind a pillar in the ballroom at Ashbourne. "Did you notice the way he stared at you?" Beatrix panted. "The man was practically devouring you, it was too funny! You are such a tease, Lottie!" She wrapped her arms around her narrow waist. Lottie laughed and rolled her eyes. "As if I don't know it, Bea? I care nothing for it, it amused me far too much!" "Had you kept flirting with him a moment longer, I would wager my dowry he'd have proposed before the evening ended!" Beatrix cried through her laughter. Lottie scoffed. "And I should refuse him, exactly as I refuse the rest of the offers sent my way." Lottie liked to toy with people. She understood it was improper, but London society was so dull that without such games she could scarcely endure it. In Beatrix she had found a kindred spirit. Beatrix loved mischief and laughter every bit as much as Lottie. Lottie wielded her beauty to great effect. Her deep brown hair fell in perfect ringlets, and her dark blue eyes carried a certain mystery. She stood at an average height, and men found her figure exceedingly lovely. "What will your father say once he hears about Sir Cedric?" Beatrix asked after she had mastered her laughter. Lottie gave her closest friend a smirk. "Papa could never stay angry with me. He'll only learn that Sir Cedric was mooning over me and decide he wants to shoot him. In all this, I shall be the blameless victim." Beatrix smiled like a little devil. "You are wicked, are you not?"