He saw her from across the room, a vibrant figure in green and grey, fingers delicately holding a wine glass, hair glinting in the light of the setting sun. A warm breeze drifted over to him and he took a moment to exhale the scent of midsummer, a hint of honeysuckle. A waiter bustled past with some treats and he took some to occupy himself with. Ice cream. Milady had a liking for ice cream, he remembered. For some reason it amused him, the thought of bringing her some ice cream. Up until a while ago, he would have gone out of his way to block her and the seductive wiles she employed. But recently he was finding a new admiration for the lady, her job wasn't the easiest. No other could play the part she did and still do what she had been instructed to. He was just the overseer. If it was up to him, he wouldn't have chosen to be at this party. But she was the expert socialite and he was there to make sure everything was going the way it should do. And so far it was.
He slipped across to her, a shadow just out of her eye line and slid to the chaise longue behind her, back to back, their heads almost touching. He could feel strands of her hair tickling his neck and breathed in her perfume, vanilla with a touch of jasmine. He didn't know that of course not being a sentimental man but he just knew that he liked whatever alluring scent she used to attract the kind of clientele she needed to this evening. The rich idiots who relied on flattery to lull them into a false sense of security so she could search them out and find what she was looking for. She always managed it in the end.
She tipped her head back a little, signalling that she was aware of his presence. Turning around, he politely enquired if she was enjoying the party.
'Rochefort, if I wasn't enjoying the party, you know where I'd be' she said, inclining her head slightly. This was code for 'I'd rather not be here if it wasn't for that idiot Buckingham and his box of diamonds.' He liked how she worded her thoughts so accordingly.
'Perhaps you would care for some refreshment?' He asked, displaying the proffered treat. This was code for 'Allow me to relieve you of the tedium with something more interesting than listening to Buckingham waffle all night.' Her eyes rested on the melting ice cream escaping over the bowl and her face lit up. His heart beat fast, for she had raised her eyes to his a second later and the smile was meant for him.
'Much appreciated.' She took the bowl and swirled the contents around. Licking the smooth white cream from the spoon, the taste of vanilla was both subtle and intense and she momentarily closed her eyes and gave a shiver that had everything to do with the pleasure as much as the cold. Rochefort briefly wondered what it would be like to be the man that attracted her attention, real or otherwise. Lucky Buckingham. But only for a moment. Buckingham was being played for everything she could get off of him and Rochefort had no sympathy for the vain arrogant fool that was going to get what he deserved when his diamonds would go 'missing' by the morning.
The man in question was opposite, observing this display sullenly. He clearly thought Rochefort to be an upstart, bringing the lady some ice cream when it should have been him. She gave him a slight conspiratorial wink and turned her attention to the bruised ego of Buckingham who was leaning forward and trying to engage her in chat. Rochefort left them to it and wandered over to the windows, looking out across the lush garden. Everything was going according to plan.