It was just another night; another high society event with glistening jewels draped over the ladies like frosting, and clouds of smoke cloaking the gents in a dull mist of their own self importance. Rose turned gracefully from Mr. and Mrs. Hiltern who were making a most shameless introduction to their awkward son, Tyler. Of course, being held to the rigorous practices of the upper class, she quirked a charmed brow and smiled interestedly in his direction and allowed him to take her hand. She knew her beauty borrowed her some privilege with others and mastered it well; after-all what good was her beauty if Ruth could not use it to her advantage? Rose's smile descended to wry amusement as thoughts of 'Mother' invaded. Tyler's ears warmed at the auburn haired woman's rapt attention and returned the mistaken smile warmly because it seemed that rather than rolling her eyes and making her excuses, a lady could in fact tolerate his lack of social charm.

'Rose - dear, I'd like you introduce you to someone,' Ruth's icy glance and glassy smile brought Rose numbly from Tyler's grateful conversation, gliding with practiced ease across the fire place.

'Yes, Mother?' upon looking up, she instantly came face to face with a darkly handsome man of arrogant bearing. His eyes were slyly chocolate in colour and his mouth lifted on the left side condescendingly. Rose admired this person whose close attention she had for some reason captured.

'This is the young Mr. Hartley I told you about dear, isn't he rather a handsome sight! your father would have liked you to meet him sooner, had his tedious affairs not kept him,' Ruth's cold demeanor lifted, much to Rose's annoyance. It was a poorly concealed fact that Ruth Bukater was not a woman for gaily conversing like this, and the currently weak attempt had not a mere few heads turned in their direction.

'Is that so, Mother?' Rose coyly carried on, 'Mr. Hartley, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I do hope that my Mother hasn't frightened you with her gaiety! she is always this easily pleased, you see.' Rose smiled engagingly at Hartley as Ruth shot a small look of scorn at the mockery.

'Indeed not Rose, Ruth is a a delightful creature! and the pleasure is all mine...' Hartley lifted her hand and lightly brushed his lips across it. A queasiness writhed within her as the flutter of a thousand whispers floated in the majestic glittering of the chandeliers. Rose kept her eyes on Hartley as he did with her, and like a snake with its prey in sight, her private circle seemed to grow smaller and smaller. The smile faded as she broke the stare, barely aware of the others that had joined their conversation.

'Call me Cal, Rose.' Hartley said with personal suave.

'Of course, Cal.' When he held out his arm, she automatically latched onto it and her throat immediately wanted to splutter and throw her shapely form through the french doors and into the night's cover of darkness. She gulped and straightened her posture as she was led into the dining hall.

And so it has begun.