Lord Foxglove's page

Lord Foxglove stands up abruptly, knocking his chair over. His face has turned a bright shade of red, and there is a quiver of anger in his voice.

'A childhood illness indeed! I bring you into this place to show you my appreciation for what you have done, and this is how I am treated? Very well. I can see that it is impossible to consort with the...common folk...on equal terms, despite their apparent heroics. You needn't worry about the bill, all is paid for,' he says looking at the male members of the group. 'Good evening.'

He brushes his lips with his fine linen napkin before going the door. Once there he stops, turns slowly, and takes a last look at Yelena. A wistful smile touches his face before he turns and swiftly exits with his servants in tow.

Yelena laughs into her wine glass, "Well I certainly hope they are inspiring!" A hidden flash of revulsion and anger at his touch. Taking a drink, "Although you really must tell us why you are here. Come now! Be a gracious host! What brings you to fair Sandpoint?"

'Why I'm here for the Festival of course. A welcome break from the business of reclaiming the family estate, really.' He begins, 'Which you really should see my dear. It has a beautiful view of the sea.'

He punctuates "beautiful" with a determined look as he leans in to kiss Yelena.

'Your features? Your features?' He asks with some surprise. 'Why my dear, I find your features...inspiring.' He says, reaching forward to brush the back of his hand along one of her ears.

'Yelena, I must ask you. Wherever did you acquire your amazing talent? I mean the way you charmed those vile, wretched creatures! Surely they were as smitten as...well as they could be.' He says with a slight grin, touching your hand.

'All the way from Absalom.' a voice says. You recognize Lord Aldern Foxglove, indicating the fine table settings.

He rises from his seat with a fluid grace to take Yelena's hand. 'Dearest Miss Shukhov, welcome! May I call you Yelena? You are a vision tonight, humbling myself and my meager preparations.' He leads Yelena by the hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Deftly moving around the table, he sits her at his right hand side.

'Do sit.' He says to the rest of you.