<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mc5777GoYi1r0gffeo1_500.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>J. B. Goudeau<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>Locaxtion:</strong>The Golden Mare<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Virginia (directly);  Marguerite, Miss Greene, Harley, Edward<br/><hr/><br/><em>"Fer even the devil kin also transforms himself in tah an angel o'light,"</em><br/><br/>Goudeau blinked twice at the lady's response, weighing the words carefully. Did she just insinuate that she was a devil in disguise? Her unexpected repartee was saucy for a girl with her upbringing but then she'd always been a clever one, as far back as he'd seen her around town. Virginia was a pristine little beauty and the true devil of the thing was that she knew it better than anyone else.<br/><br/>That boy was about to get his walking papers, if he lived long enough to walk out of the hotel.<br/><br/><em>"If yuh'll be such a gentleman as to accompany me?"</em><br/><br/>It wasn't a request, of course. At the clink of her teacup Goudeau was already on his feet, pulling her chair away to permit her voluminous skirts to sweep out from beneath the cafe table. He had barely a moment to smooth his vest before she was off, making a silken beeline for the target of her displeasure.<br/><br/>His politely salacious smile disappeared, replaced by the humorless mask he wore when discussing unpleasant business. Hands crossed behind his back, Goudeau used the time it took them to cross the room to slip the catch from his forearm rig. Not that there would be any untoward behavior in the Golden Mare – certainly not under Miss Greene's very nose – but it always paid for a true gentleman to be over-prepared.<br/><br/>As he planted himself stoically at Miss Whateley's right shoulder and admired the tableau before them, he had to admit that the soldier boy had good taste. It was just a shame he'd displayed it in the worst possible way. The object of his attentions was darkly beautiful, fit to rival Virginia in her own earthy way. She'd easily be a top choice in any bawdy house in The Maze, possibly even worth keeping for oneself in an exclusive situation on the side. However, this was neither the time nor place to chase Mexican tail, in a fine hotel and in front of decent women. Well, two decent women and one mannish girl with guns at the very least.<br/><br/>Virginia struck like a snake and scalded the hound for good measure. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips at the final crunch of boot heel on bone. Miss Whateley was a spitfire, a pureblood hellcat under that frilly lace, and she suddenly had his full attention in every possible  way. As she finished insulting the dark girl Goudeau's arm was poised and ready to accept her gloved hand, even before her parting shot about “prospects.”<br/><br/>He knew better, he truly did. He was no more than a convenient prop for a woman's fit of pique. But for just a moment he let his gaze sweep over the women at the table with the self-assured air of a cat that had finally sunk his claws into the town's prized canary.  "Your humble servant, Miss Whateley," he purred, his voice as dark and smooth as Southern whisky.<br/>