the fresh, soothing smell of the gardens did little to liven the spirts of the youngest dormer. it felt in ill taste to have a social event so soon after one's passing, but he kept a happy smile. one must play the games of high society until it is no longer needed, especially now. james rounded the corner of the gardens and found himself walking in tandem with a young lady. "it certainly is a beautiful place. i have found the astors to always put on a good show." he clocked the english accent, and smiled. "welcome to New York, if no one has said already. i am james dormer, pleasure." while his name might not mean anything over in england; it is best to know who you are conversing with. "sadly, have not had the pleasure. watched, yes, but not played. i fear i may be more likely to hit my foot than the ball." he jokes. although there is some truth in the statement.
" cordelia , " she turned with a smile . " cordelia whitmore . " usually she did not like people talking to her but since the weather was so nice and she finally had a taste of a true new york function . dormer . dormer . she's never heard of that name . well , she didn't care much about americans anyway . " you haven't played or you do not know how to ? " she teased . " it's alright to admit it , sir . it's not meant for everyone . how about we play one right after this game . i promise to go easy on you . "
















