<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>Outside the Golden Mare<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Harley, Open<br/><hr/>The compliment was a good one.  Off-hand and vaguely dismissive, as if her beauty were obvious,  but of no great import. Simultaneously tweaking and vexing her vanity. Still, the taller woman had noticed and felt the need to remark, and Marguerite was inordinately pleased that she had.  Almost - a barely-hinted smile twitched at the corners of her soft lips, though it didn't quite materialize.<br/><br/>The move to take her arm was so fluid and natural that Marguerite accepted the assistance without a thought.  The hands grasping her were strong, able, and sure.  She took direction from those hands perfectly, instantly obeying even the most subtle pressure against her elbow or fingers or palm.  She navigated the hazard effortlessly and with nary a glance to check her footing, her nimble step responding with instant precision to the taller girl's wordless guidance.<br/><br/>Her nose might be in the air, and her attitude might appear to the eye quite proper and even stiff.  But the ripe body stuffed into the slightly-too-tight plaid dress responded much to quickly and far to completely under the lanky outlaw's easy command. Perhaps it was her years of ball room experience, but the young Lady certainly knew how to follow a lead. It took a confident touch to seize control of the spirited socialite, but once that control was established she obeyed superbly.<br/><br/>Not that her manner was quite so proper and stiff at the moment - a flush rose from her breast to cover her neck and her face high up the cheek in a rosy blush.<strong>"I was not peeking - sneaking!"</strong>She hastily amended the lie, keeping her focus firmly forward as they walked.  Apparently, she ignored the wink entirely, though her flush deepened to a more vivid shade.<br/><br/>After a dozen steps - several of which over another rough patch of walkway where she accepted entirely unneeded assistance with the same natural grace and superbly obedient response - she spoke.<strong>"You are quite bold."</strong>She noted, her gaze still focused ahead and noting that the boardwalk was about to end at a street crossing.<br/><br/>The forward gaze broke as they stopped at the end of the walk.  Bright eyes flashed sidelong and up at her lovely companion, her cold features struggling to contain a smile that was a bit too imperfectly controlled.<strong>"Well..."</strong>She let the word hang for a moment before adding.<strong>"This is my hotel."</strong>They'd actually passed the main door, which was behind them three paces.  Almost, but not quite facing the street corner.<br/><br/><strong>"Thank you for the escort, kind si..."</strong>She lost all control of the smile then, almost breaking into laughter which she suppressed to a single musical giggle.<strong>"How silly of me, to mistake you for a...  Thank you."</strong>She cut herself off quickly.<strong>"I felt ever so much safer with you."</strong><br/><br/>And she had, for the last few minutes she's almost forgotten the feeling of being watched.  But now - while they stood motionless and she faced the prospect of being alone in her room, the feeling loomed ominous and foreboding.  It had a weight she could feel pressing down on her shoulders.<br/><br/>So instead of taking her leave, she stood there, feeling awkward and silly.  Perhaps if she sat in the small tea room off the lobby the presence wouldn't weigh so heavy.  Though she could hardly sit up all night just because of a girlish feeling.<br/>