November 1st, 1778, New York City.
Charlotte held the porcelain teacup to her mouth with the handle, and quietly took a small sip of the hot tea. She liked her tea bitter, with nothing concealing the taste. It was a moment of calm before the storm.
"So...Charlotte," said her friend, Helga with a tone of finality, gazing at her with an expression of poorly concealed mirth sitting in a chair next to her at large round mahogany table.
"It's your turn! Who would you dance with, if you had your pick of all the finest men in His Majesty's Royal Army? her brown eyes twinkled.
The other ladies seated around gave encouraging smiles and Charlotte pretended to blush innocently, twirling around a small blonde curl of her hair and letting her long black eyelashes flutter playfully.
"Umm..."
"I'd...umm...uhh..."
The girls all leaned in with bated breath and anticipation.
"I'd want to dance with...General Alastor?" she said shyly, her sky-blue eyes gazing innocently back.
The other girls gaped at her, absolutely astonished, before they shrieked and broke into giggles and fits of laughter, shaking lace sleeves, and dresses and petticoats.
"You mean...the General Alastor? Sir Allen Alastor?" questioned one of the girls, her face glistening with tears of mirth.
"Uhmm, yes, the General Alastor" said Charlotte, demurely, pretending to blush and hide her face.
Helga put a comforting arm around the silken lace of the shoulders of her bodice.
"My dear, dear Charlotte, of all the crazy ideas that you have come up with, this one has got to be the most ridiculous one yet!"
The brunette smiled at her knowingly, shaking her head.
"There is no way that a girl like you could ever and I mean ever seduce someone like General Alastor!"
"I suppose you're right, Helga" said Charlotte in mock wistfulness, pursuing her red lips in a pout.
"He is handsome though...and from what I've heard, quite the gentleman even though he never goes to dances and never goes to parties..." mused Helga.
"It is really a shame that he's ineligible too..!" she declared, pounding her fist onto the table,
to the giggles of the other girls.
"I heard that he keeps an entire room full of discarded and un-read love-letters." said one, conspiratorially.
"I heard that he was thrice engaged and thrice broken off, because he simply refused to spend any time at all with his fianceés!" piped up another.
"I heard rumors that he was going to be a monk!" said a third, jumping in.
At the last suggestion, all the girls broke into peals of laughter again.
Charlotte pretended to hold a blank, confused face, staring at Helga questioningly.
"Oh, Charlotte...you are just too much of an angel!" exclaimed Helga, patting her lovingly on the back of her light-pink dress with a gloved hand.
Oh, for crying out loud! Charlotte thought.
Charlotte de Magne absolutely hated having to go to tea parties.