Lady Uchiha and Sakura descended together at half-past-three, that same afternoon and a few minutes to four o'clock, young Lady Uchiha's barouche was driven into Hyde Park by the Stanhope Gate.

It was an extremely stylish vehicle, quite the latest thing in the town carriages, dripping expensive. Together with a pair of perfectly matched grays, to draw it, it had been bestowed upon Naru by her husband during her installation as mistress of the house. 'Slap up to the echo,' was what Kurama called it; and certainly no other lady owned a turn-out more elegant than hers.

To be seen driving, riding, or even walking in Hyde Park between the hours of five and six on any common fine afternoon the the grand London season was de rigueur for anyone of high rank. Naru remembered those days before her marriage when she had either sat beside her mama in an old fashioned landaulet, or taken a walk (escapading adventures) with Kurama, she had sometimes envied the possessors of more dashing equipages or fashionable clothes (especially when a lady or someone cast her an amused or haughty glance). Several times she had even caught herself thinking how agreeable it would be to sit behind a pair of high-steppers in a smart barouche (though that was usually when she went out with Mama, Kurama always managed to keep her thoughts miles away from such things). Delighted, she had been (still was), with the Earl's gift, she had exclaimed naïvely: 'Now I shall be all the crack!'

'Do you wish to be?' He had asked her with amusement dancing in his dark grey eyes.

'Isn't it fortunate, Naru?'

Naru looked up at Sakura's voice, urging her to go continue, which she did, would have done anyway, sans hésitation.

'That you are fair and I am dark?' Sakura said, eying Ms. Greyhill pass by in her own barouche. 'I don't wonder at it that everyone stares at us whenever we pass by: we dull the shine on all the other females!'

'I guess,' Naru hesitated; that sounded a bit too egoistic.

'Don't look at me like that; Mr. Hatake told Hardwick so, and Hardwick says it's a compliment really well worth having,' Sakura grinned and leaned forward. 'Because Mr Hatake is in general quite odiously censorious.'

Naru nearly lifted her brow, Kakashi? Surely she must be talking about someone else. Even then it's not at all like-

'Well.. at least that is what I think.'

Sakura cut through her thoughts with her statement. Naru looked at her cautiously, that wasn't all of it, she was going to say something else-

'I also think,' Sakura obligingly added, dispassionately considering the matter, 'that you are by far prettier than I am...'

As she paused slightly, Naru could feel the heat creeping up her neck, the compliment (as inderect as it was) pleased her greatly, of course, but it made her feel guilty about it, too.. she didn't like feeling guilty, especially when it was a cause of something she hadn't had any control over.

'But, on the other hand, I have a great deal of countenance, besides being nearly dark haired, which is more en mode , so I don't excessively mind your being more beautiful.'

Naru couldn't help the laugh, with relief, but, with Ms Tsunade's on her mind (even now that old hag still haunted her), she ventured to suggest to Sakura that such candour was a trifle improper.

'That's the sort of thing Aunt would say,' observed Sakura, unabashed. 'Et pour moi, I see nothing improper in speaking the truth. You can't deny anything; c'est la vérité!'

Sakura made herself comfortable beside Naru (moving around a bit and positioning her clothes before she settled with a pose, that certainly couldn't be be anything but "natural"), and unfurled a pink sunshade. 'We make a perfect picture,' she said complacently.

'I collect Lord Hardwick told you so!'

'Everyone tells me so!' Sakura sniffed and turned her attention to the window, trying to decide on how to complete her pose.

'Well, take care they don't next tell you that you are abominably conceited,' Naru recommended.

'They won't,' asserted Sakura, with confidence. 'No one a care a pebble for, at all events. I daresay Cousin might, for I never knew anyone so stuffy!'

She turned a dreamily wistful face to the window, finally settling with the "damsel in love" look to finish off her pose.

However, when they presently spotted the said "stuffy" man strolling in the Park, there was nothing to be read in that stickler's countenance but critical appreciation. Naru directed her coachman to pull up his horses, and when Mr Tobi came up to the carriage, she leaned forward to give him her hand. 'How do you do? I hoped I might see you, it seems that Sakura mentioning you summoned you (Naru couldn't help but mischievously add, glancing furtively at her suddenly sour companion with a laughing dimple.). Do you mean to attend the Beadings' masquerade next week? Uchiha has been obliged to cry off: infamous of him to do so! Will you dine with us, and give us your escort in his stead?'

His face looked regretful as he shook his head. 'Can't,' he said mournfully. 'Excused myself to Mrs Beading. Told her I had another engagement. Not the thing to go there after that. Pity!'

'You cannot hoax me into believing that you think so! Confess! You dislike masquerades!'

'Not trying to hoax you: happy to escort you anywhere! Not but what it ain't the sort of party I like. If I were you I'd cry off, because you won't enjoy it. Not just your style.'

'I declare,' Sakura broke in, having given up on handing him the cold (more like; sour) shoulder. 'You are the stupidest creature, Obito! Why shouldn't we enjoy it? It will be rare mummery, for we all are to wear masks, and'-

'Yes, a vast rout of people, and rompings!' interrupted Mr Tobi, in a tone of deep disapproval. 'You may enjoy it: I never said you wouldn't. All I said was, Lady Uchiha won't. Do you want a piece of advice, cousin?'

'No,' said Sakura crossly.

'Mistake, he said, shaking his head. 'Not saying that it ain't an elegant gown:it is. Not say that hat don't become you: it does...'

He left an ominous pause, during which Sakura eyed him uneasily. She might not be fond of her cousin for what she considered were his antiquated notions of propriety, but no aspirant to high fashion could afford to ignore his pronouncements on all matters of sartorial taste. Just when they nearly gave up on waiting; he delivered his verdict. 'I don't like those pink ribbons.. Or the feather. Insipid.'

'Insipid ?' she exclaimed indignantly. Casting a glance down at the double row of pink knots which ornamented her dress of delicate fawn-coloured muslin, she glanced back up. The ribbons exactly matched the feather that hung down on one side of a little straw hat which was turned up on the other side, and worn at a dashing angle on her glossy, straight hair. French kid gloves of the same pink completed a toilet which she had thought to be (until this painful moment) in the first crack of the mode. Doubt now entered her soul: she turned her anxious gaze upon her cousin. 'It isn't! Plainly, you are simply saying it to vex me!'

'No wish to vex you. Just thought you wanted to be up to the knocker.'

'I do-' Sakura caught herself. 'I am up to the knocker!'

'Not with those pink bows,' said Mr Tobi firmly. 'Quite pretty, but dashed commonplace! Ought to be cherry. Give you a new touch.'

With that, he made his bow to both ladies, proceeded on his way, leaving his cousin torn between wrath and a growing conviction that he was right, and Naru a good deal amused.

'If Obito wasn't releated to me I should cut his acquaintance!' said Sakura, glaring vengefully after the gentleman. 'He is prosy, and uncivil, besides placing himself on far too high a form! And now I come to think of it, I didn't above half like his waistcoat!'

She transferred her gaze to Naru, as Mr Tobi's exquisitely tailored person receded in the distance. 'If he thinks my ribbons insipid I am astonished that he hadn't the effrontery to say that your dress was commonplace! Odious creature!'

'Oh, he once told me days ago never to wear my maroon pelisse. I promise you, he was quite as odious to me. Don't regard it.'

'I never pay the least heed to a word he says,' replied Sakura in a lofty voice.

Naru hid a knowing smile, rather difficultly, when she lapsed into a thoughtful silence once the barouche proceeded on its way.

After several minutes Sakura said: 'Do you think that I should get this feather dyed or purchase a new one?'

So much for her earlier statement, thought Naruto fondly when she started speaking. But her latest option made Naru hasten to reply, 'Dye that one, and also the ribbons.'

'Then I shall tell my woman to do so one of these days,' she "carelessly" said.

'Oh, I wish he might have gone with us to the masquerade: it would have made me much more comfortable!' Naru sighed.

Sakura huffed lightly and almost raised her brow, 'How I am glad he may not, a quiz would we look at a masquerade with him.'

She is so dramatic sometimes, Naru thought, but always such a dear. 'I suppose . . .' She hesitated looking doubtfully at Sakura. 'I suppose you would not like to go to Merion with Uchiha instead?'

An expression of scandalized dismay withheld her countenance at those words and she nearly shrieked her next exclamation. 'Naru! Go to Merion in the middle of the season? Are you out of your senses?! And if that is what Uchiha wishes us to do, I think it is the shabbiest thing I ever heard of, when he promised, I should go to the masquerade!' She paused slightly as though she remembered something better to say than what she planned to. 'Especially after fobbing me off with this masquerade, when I particularly wanted to go to the Covent Garden Masquerade!' she added indignantly. 'Saying it was not the thing, and we should go to the Beadings' private masquerade instead! Just like him! I daresay, if I only knew'-

'It is Not just like him, and I wish you will not fly into a pet for nothing!' cut in Naru, firing up. It was Sasuke she was talking about. 'If you only knew, he had said not another word to persuade me to go to Merion with him when I reminded him that you particularly wished to go to the masquerade! And if Obito'-

'I'm sure quite fifty of our friends are going to it, I own that it would be more comfortable to have a gentleman escort us, but you may easily invite Westbury, or Sir George Marlow, or'-

'No!' said Naru emphatically. 'Not to a masquerade!'

Sakura eyed her for a blink before uttering a tiny spurt of laughter. 'Are you afraid they wouldn't keep the line? For my part, I think it would be very good fun if they did flirt outrageously with us! But you are the oddest creature! Not up to the snuff at all.'

Naru flushed. 'No such thing, I hadn't the remotest intention of saying that. Only I can't immediately think of any gentleman whom I'- She stopped, as her troubled gaze alighted on two horsemen, riding easily towards them. Her eyes brightened; she exclaimed: 'Kurama!'

'The very man!' declared Sakura enthusiastically. 'Now you may be easy!'

This optimism, however, seemed for several minutes to have been ill-founded. The Viscount, who was bestriding a nervous, young, blood-chestnut few men would have exercised in the Park at an hour when it was thronged with traffic, responded readily enough to his sister's signal, bringing his reluctant mount up to the barouche, and holding it there with all the apparent ease of an accomplished horseman; but when she asked him if he had received an invitation to the Beadings' masquerade, he replied: 'Ay, but I don't mean to go.'

'Oh, Kyūbi, you didn't refuse?' Naru said anxiously.

'No, I didn't refuse precisely,' Kurama admitted. It was a careless practice of his to leave all (but a few he favoured) his invitations unanswered. He gestured with his head a "come" and said, 'Here, Shukaku! Don't have to introduce you to my sister, do I? Or to Lady Sakura?'

His companion, who had been holding coyly aloof, edged his horse forward, raising the low-crowned beaver hat from his head, and bowing slightly to both ladies. Mr Shukaku Cornelius Kazesuna was a chubby-faced young gentleman, slightly junior to the Viscount (whose devoted follower he had been ever since the pair had met at Harrow).

There he had been privileged to lend his aid to his dazzling friend in various hare-brained exploits. Later he had been of invaluable assistance in disposing suitably of the statue of Mercury in the Quad of Christ Church; and if he had never, either when up at Oxford or since they had both come down from that seat of learning, contrived to rival Kurama's more celebrated feats, which included putting a donkey to bed with a complete stranger in an inn, and leaping one of his hunters over a dining-table equipped with a full complement of plate, silver, glasses, and chandeliers. He had won for himself (besides the reputation of being one who never refused a wager), considerable fame for having walked the length of Piccadilly on a pair of stilts; and for having won a bet that he would journey to Dover and back again to London before his too-hopeful challenger had made a million dots on sheet after sheets of paper.

Unlike his noble (daring, dashing, dangerous) friend, Shukaku was possessed of a handsome fortune, and was unencumbered by any kin more nearly related to him than several aunts, to whose admonitions (especially for spending time with the notorious Viscount) he paid no heed at all; and various cousins whom he had no hesitation in condemning as a parcel of slow-tops. He was sufficiently well acquainted with Naru to not feel any alarm when she addressed him in particular; but a quizzing glance from Sakura sent him into a stuttering display.

Observing this, the Viscount, with his customary lack of ceremony, recommended the enterprising damsel to pay no heed to his sandy-haired second. 'Not in the petticoat-line,' he explained. Setting his glowing eyes on his favourite family member he spoke. 'Are you going to this precious masquerade, Kit?'

'Yes, indeed we are, only we find ourselves in a little fix. Uchiha has been obliged to cry off, you see, and it is so disagreeable to go to such affairs with no gentleman to escort one!'-

Kurama, grasping the situation, started feeling dread creep into his body, especially when Naruto's eyes started glazing with worry and feel. He nearly swallowed with remorse when she gazed at him (though Shukaku gulped loudly from his seat besides Kurama) with those shimmering eyes.

'-So, if you please, Kyū, will you be so obliging as to'-

'No, dash it, Naru!' interrupted the Viscount hastily. 'Not to a masquerade out at Chiswick! Ask anyone else, Marlow, or Westbury, or one of them gentlemen! Why choose me?'

'She's afraid they wouldn't keep the line,' said Sakura demurely.

Before the Viscount could reply Mr Kazesuna (rather unexpectedly) entered into the discussion. 'Shouldn't wonder at it if she was right,' he said. 'Masquerades, you know! Ramshackle! Ought to go with her la'ship!'

Giving his friend a crushing glare, Kurama set his eyes upon the gentleman. 'What the deuce do you know about masquerades, Corny?' demanded Kurama. 'You have never went to one in your life!'

'Yes, I did,' asserted Mr Kazetama, his warm brown eyes glancing at the ladies hastily. 'I went with you, Kyū! Well, I wouldn't let my sister go to one alone. What I mean is, I wouldn't if I had one. Had a sister, I mean,' he added, becoming a little flustered when Kurama and Naruto exchanged breif, secret grins.

'Covent Garden!' exclaimed Kurama scornfully. 'I should think not indeed! But this affair will be quite another thing. Pretty insipid, I should think.'

/ Our New Lady /

/ Uchiha /

Mr Lee was not a nervous man (being rather infamous for his enthusiastic manner), but it was with considerable reluctance that he presented himself in the Uchiha Grounds. His love for Sakura bordered, in the opinion of his mentor (and many others who wouldn't tell him so), on infatuation, but it had needed much persuasion from her to induce him to make Uchiha a formal offer for her hand. The disparity between them of rank and fortune weighed heavily on his spirit; he had felt from the outset that the wiser course would be to keep out of Sakura's way. Not to mention that Uchiha was one frightening figure of a man (it was once said that he and the Viscount were the fiercest of rivals when they met at Oxford [but that's a tale for another day] and that he had pet mambas straight from Africa). But our gentleman dressed in green attire had began to think that perhaps Uchiha might not prove so inimical to his suit after all, if he were approached in a manly and straightforward way.

This confidence, never strong, waned as he trod up the steps of the main Uchiha House, and wholly deserted the man when he was shown to a book-room (by one verily mannered butler with slicked hair) and told to wait. The Earl hadn't been long in coming down, but it had seemed to be a crushing long year of waiting to the jittery young man. The clock on the high mantelpiece that rather aggressively ticked away the four minutes of wait hadn't done anything to soothe his mind, becoming convinced that the faint stripe in his toilinette waistcoat made him look like a park-saunterer. A few tics more, he began doubting that his coat of sober green cloth was too tightly moulded to his form (even though he had found it satisfying earlier), and that by brushing his silky black hair (that was generally always in a shiny bowl-cut) into the Brutus style affected by Mr Brummell he had committed a gross error of judgement: Uchiha would probably suspect him of aping the fashions of the dandy-set.

However, when he made it to the room, the Earl did not appear to notice his dress. What by that time Mr Rock Lee Maito was convinced was a blatant vulgarity, especially the waistcoat (which was most important [maybe he shouldn't have chosen green? blue would have done it] of dress).

On the other hand, his handsome, impassive countenance betrayed no sign of pleasure at the sight of his visitor, and his greeting was more courteous rather than cordial. Not that Uchiha was known to be openly amical with anyone. Mr Lee opened the interview by saying with a stiffness engendered by his determination not to truckle to his siren's guardian: 'You may wonder, my lord, why I am here.'

'Hn,' he murmured with disagreement.

There was nothing particularly daunting about this calm monosyllable, but it threw Mr Lee quite out of his stride. His carefully composed speech (that he had prepared before the looking-glass) of explanation had to be abandoned, and he could not immediately decide what to say in its stead.

'Pray be seated, Mr Lee!' invited his impeccably suited host, himself strolling to the chair.

Mr Lee hesitated. On the whole, he preferred to remain on his feet, but it was difficult to do so while the dark-haired Earl (having not waited for his guest to seat himself) sat at his ease, one leg, cased in an elegant Hessian boot, thrown over the other, and one hand twirling a Golden General Japanese shōgi peice. Mr Lee sat down and cleared his throat. 'I shall be brief,' he stated. 'It cannot, I fancy, be unknown to your lordship that I have been so fortunate as to engage the interest of Lady Sakura Haruno.'

No one could have noticed the flicker of amusement that crossed the Earl's dark grey eyes. 'I understand that the violence of your mutual feelings is such as must melt all but the hardest of hearts,' he said, placing the piece on the shougi set set out on the table besides the chair before grabbing the Rook and elegantly tossing it up in the air.

'Mine, I am informed..,'

His other hand caught the piece between his middle and first fingertips with ease.

'Is of marble.'

Any schemes of intercepting her lover on his way out of the house which Sakura might have cherished was frustrated by the Earl's escorting him to the front-door (Sakura had seethed at that before brightening, she had a Plan B), and seeing him safely off the premises (she had wailed a cry of dismay and glared at the portrait, of younger Uchiha and Naru's brother, that took up an great part of the shelf above the fireplace). He strolled back to the library; and after a moment or two of hesitation at the head of the stairs, Sakura ran down lightly and herself entered the library.

What was to happen next was most obviously going to be something.

/Our New Lady/

/Uchiha/

Meanwhile with Naru

'Kyū! I thought that you shall never make it!'

Kurama snorted and halted a few paces away from Naru, his arms coming to cross across his broad chest, he posed a daunting figure. To his credit, he didn't budge an inch when Naruto barrelled into him, her arms going about his shoulders; he merely glanced down at her uncovered head of blonde curls with something akin to annoyance.

'Very nearly did,' he grumbled pushing her away and dusting his clothes. 'What with you making me escort to some frilly ball.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Naru said with a knowing smile. 'Especially since I said I wanted to see Mutatabi! Where is she?'

'What, am I a delivery boy?' Kurama groused. 'If she were that eager to see you, sis, that wildcat would be out any moment soon.'

Naru deflated, when Kurama had written to her about finding a drowning kitten in a wooden crate by the sea, she had nearly gone into a series of excited fits. She had immediately inquired after it (sending their butler off with a letter only few moments after having read Kurama's short letter), their butler returning with another letter of response. Her brother had said that she would have to wait ''poor thing was a starving bag of half frozen meat'' and he ''didn't want silly chits suffocating his new prize'' or ''passing along her fair-folly'' to his ''golden prize.'' To shorten it up, Naru had "gone out" for a ride that day. She had returned (disappointed that she hadn't seen the feline) with a promise date where he will bring along the kitten.

Getting here had been quite hard, as she had to convince the driver to drop her at the park (which was near the meeting place) and let her take a walk through. But she was Naru, she could do anything. All that was left was to a-wait Kyūbi and the creature he named Mutatabi.

Who was no where to be seen!

Naruto peeked behind the Viscount, her unbound hair hanging a long length down.

'What's gotten in you? Stop using me like some hanging rack or wall, for Tabi's sake!'

Naruto was unceremoniously shaken off of her support. 'I'm being cautious I don't want to startle the cat.'

'By hanging off me?' said the Viscount, taking off his hat.

'You're familiar with her, of course, so maybe if I eased away from you, she'll get used to my presence,' explained the young lady.

'I knew that the marriage would make your queer brain numb,' he muttered. 'Tabi can already smell you, and believe me when I say that she would have scratched yer skin off had she not liked you.'

'But where is she?' Naru exclaimed, nearly stomping her foot in exasperation.

At that he smirked rather dashingly and turned around, his cloak and robe flaring out smoothly, and set one palm out. 'Mutatabi, come girl.'

Naru gasped out a shock of laughter, hands flying to cover her mouth. 'Have you lost all sense, Kyū? Cats don't respond to such commands.. unless they know you're going to pet them or something.'

She was surprised when the creature sprung out of the flower bed and landed on her brothers forearm. What was it? a falcon? It was the size of a full grown house cat, but what made Naruto's eyes to light with fascination was it's appearance. Its fur was a glowing pattern of dark lavender, light blue and some sparse stripes of black and some shade of purple. What wondered her more was that the colours seemed to shift restlessly.

It looked at her with wary eyes, tail flicking side to side gently.

'Its coat wouldn't really camouflage it, I fancy.'

Mr Namikaze-Uzumaki smirked, 'No it wouldn't, I fancy that is why it can shift colours.'

'I wonder what it eats, it is so cute.'

'A predator, the crate labeled, obviously meat.'

The next few moments were spent discussing the creature who wasn't too fond of Naru. The gentleman let out a bark of laughter at that. 'Don't wonder at it, she hasn't yet even reached half her full-grown size.'

Naru's eyes had widened, exactly what Kurama had been expecting, and she exclaimed with reddening cheeks. 'Oh how lucky you are, dear brother! I wish I could have my very own cat.'

Eyes twinkling and preening, he glanced at her with mock-disdain (having read her intentions when she sweetened her voice); 'A lady of your station could own one, but most certainly not be able to care for it.'

'Kyū! You ruffian!'

His white teeth flashed a cheeky smile; 'Careful, dear sister of mine, s'-

'Ha! No way I'm letting you finish that!' Naru cut him off with a scolding finger. Then, seeming to recall something, the fair-headed girl suddenly leaned forward. 'Say...'

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, the tall Viscount leaned back, Tabi, who was now perched on his shoulder mirroring him. 'Don't get one of them wild ideas into your balloon, sis, I won't help you with anything.'

'Would you, dearest,' Naru said, a pleading tone catching her voice (Kurama nearly gulped, once again). 'Mind if I asked a favour of you?'

'Yes, I would! so no need bother your pretty head over'-

Naru deflated, a soft 'aww' of disappointment escaping her, her whole posture changed, but what Kurama was dreading was the sad air she was accumulating. "Those eyes should be shielded with something!" he hastily thought. Worse was; he didn't even know if his sister knew what she was doing!

'It shall greatly please me, shall you ever manage to...'

A/N

Sorry if it sounds too formal? I am really trying to make it seem "Regency era"-ish. Sorry for the late update, I'll update more frequently.

I disclaim ownership of any property, this is merely a fan's fiction.