<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/8/8f/Marguerite_Tuerny_07.jpg/600px-Marguerite_Tuerny_07.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Marguerite Tuerny<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Early Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Golden Mare<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Harley,  Maybelle Greene, Open<br/><hr/><strong>Continued from:</strong>Around Town (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167796.msg8008675#msg8008675)<br/><hr/>Marguerite waved to the waiter as she returned to her seat, her intention to ask for a tea setting for Maybelle.  She wasn't scanning the room like the gunfighter, nor was she as aware of the clientele as their host, but the young socialite had noted the beautiful southern belle and her dashing military escort when they walked in.  The sight held a poignant familiarity, a reminder of not so distant times now gone forever,  a reminder of a life she no longer had.  Balls in Richmond where the dresses were gorgeous and the soldiers were dashing in their Confederate Grays.  The young officer even seemed familiar.<br/><br/>She envied the beautiful girl in the lovely gown - obviously bored with her escort.  What she would give to be part of that culture again!  She longed to again be one of the gentile, the well-dressed, the secure, the privileged.  But, despite all that had happened, did she really wish she'd never met Breed?  Never married?  If her life had gone to plan, she would never have known what she was missing.  Could she ever return to the life that lovely blonde girl took for granted?<br/><br/>The past was gone, and of small matter - she maintained her composure throughout the brief moment of reminisce.  The waiter had seen her beckon as Maybelle took her seat and was making his way toward them. But before the eager teen could arrive the ladies were interrupted by the uncivil intrusion of Lieutenant Edward Baldrick.  Not only was he simply leering down her dress, he openly insulted Harley and added the insult of ignoring Maybelle.  Whatever his intentions, they were in no way honorable and did small service to his uniform.<br/><br/>Harley, of course, did not accept open insult meekly, and her string of insulting innuendo and biting double entendre delighted Marguerite.  She was able to maintain a straight face from years of training in social etiquette but her eyes shared a smile with the gunslinger and their host, a twinkle that bespoke delight louder than an open laugh.<br/><br/><strong>"The honor sir, would be all yours."</strong>She replied to his forward introduction.  The social equivalent to a slap in the face.  She flashed a smile to Maybelle that incidentally included the young waiter stepping up behind her.  The gangly teen gasped and blushed slightly as he placed he tea service they hadn't needed to request and then he quickly faded away - Ms. Greene's staff was sharp indeed.<br/><br/>Her wide, expressive eyes went even wider as she responded to Ms. Greene's question.<strong>"Fortunate?"</strong>She repeated for rhetoric.  "<strong>I'm not entirely sure that is the term I'd use.  What with the quality of escort presenting itself."</strong>She replied.  Her attention was entirely away from the the young Officer, ignoring him so completely that he might not have been present.<strong>"I'm not even sure he has the proper <em>hardware</em> for the task."</strong>The man was in full uniform and openly displayed both his officer's sabre and a service revolver, so the remark was obviously playing off Harley's words.<br/>