[mvisconte]

First an apology. I suffer (and so, must all of you) from uncontrollable projectile verbiosity. ;-)

I remember when I first met the Baroness. I was invited to the Governor's Mansion for a swaray (er, on work-release). I was immaculate in my tuxedo, even to the quaint towel I had affected over my arm. I was sampling the Governor's selection of champagne, and helping myself to hors d'oeuvres and some silverware in between serving drinks.

The baroness was at a table with several inebriated demi-royals -- an earl or two, a barrette, two duchybags, and half a pint of Guinness.

The Half-pint and the Duke of Earl were playing quarters with gold sovereigns, and one errant bounce launched itself towards the baroness' décolletage.

Ever attentive when bits of metal are flying about, I immediately rendered assistance (Plus, I can be somewhat distracted by shiney objects -- it was GOLD!).

In retrospect, this was probably not the recommended action at the moment but I WAS only trying to help, after all.

Now, I have been looked askance before. I have affixed through steely glares. However, I have NEVER experienced such a piercing stare as the one that the baroness graced me with at that moment. I had inadvertently inserted my hand into the baroness' intermammary sulcus, and it was, unfortunately, lodged quite tightly there.

I of course stammered apologies and attempted to extricate myself from my prison. Luckily, none of the male demis had noticed -- as it would have undoubted led to misunderstandings and some quite unwarranted assumptions on their behalf, and probably to threats and at least one challenge to a duel. Perhaps two challenges. A dual duel, so to speak. I would have been at an extreme disadvantage, as I am right-handed, and well, I was unable to use said hand for defensive purposes at that moment.

Anyway, they were effectively and literally in their cups and as such, inattentive to the circumstances.

I was somewhat embarrassed and quite at a loss. After a moment, I said the only thing I could think of -- a rather inadequate "uh... nice place you've got here".

I received a softening of her eyes, and soon a slight upwards curl to the sides of her mouth. To her benefit, the baroness was neither nonplussed nor much repulsed by the my attempts to dislodge myself, and offered to help me with my awkward predicament. I was not aware that corsets were actually made with whale bone, but a slight adjustment on her behalf and my hand was again breathing freely.

We were smiles and giggles at that point, and luckily so, as the Governor, on his rounds to see what no drinks were being served, mistook me for a friend of hers. It was easy enough to disguise myself somewhat, ditching the serviette and borrowing a better jacket top from one of the earls who had passed out. As an added bonus, I noticed the inner pockets a-jingle with more sovereigns.

"Louie,I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," elicited a warm smile from her and put me in mind of recreational calisthenics, or at least staged Greco-Roman wrestling. I softly mentioned as much to the baroness and received a hearty extended laugh and an "in your DREAMS, monkey boy!"

I took that as my cue to be content with my current circumstances, and I bade my farewells, picked a few more pockets, and quitted the mansion for more hospitable climes and company. The next day found me happily un-incarcerated but just to make sure I stayed that way for the near future, I figured I would be better out of sight rather than tempt fate. She was sweet now, but in a day or two, who would know. I found a passable used-dirigible lot and in a short amount of time had swind-... er, talked the salesperson into a most-beneficial (to me) sale of a smallish, two room, four-prop dirigible, with an excellent payment plan, with almost no money down. I negotiated an excellent payment plan -- which I did not intend to keep anyway -- and even talked the salesperson into a full tank of gas (and the equivalent of a 30-day head-start).

I set sail that day with fond memories of the baroness and wistful feelings for a love that was not to be (that day).

I found out later that she had married her 6th husband, Count Thadeus "Pithy" Herbsquawk, the next day. The marriage was subsequently annulled by the count's current wife, but not without amicable relations and generous parting gifts for the home audience. (The count's wife offered to trade titles if she could trade surnames also, but seeing as the count was younger than 80 and notoriously healthy, the baroness opted for the severance pay).


I shall have to tell you of the time when the baroness' used her piercing stare, which held a room of hassars at bay, enabling our escape after a minor misunderstanding involving an old Hungarian noble family, some jewels, and a cistern... another time, perhaps.

(with apologies to anyone who made it this far. If you skipped ahead to see how it ended, lucky you -- it all turned out OK in the end).