<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Lord Greymore<br/>Westinghouse<br/>Preparing to dapart</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">With Vivenne</span></span></div><hr/><br/>Greymore climbed into the carriage, not uttering a word, though his eyes instantly fell to Vivenne's bussom. "Lovely Lady Greymore." He did smile at her though said nothing about what had delayed them so severely.<br/><br/>He tapped his walking stick and the carriage began to move, slowly at first as the two popped about a little until the road leveled out. "I trust that you will enjoy yourself this weekend my bride?" Archibald had tried, for lack of a better reason other than boredom, to invent various things to call Vivenne. "I have never attended such an event, but they are quite popular, the Lord and Lady Henshaw that is--"<br/><br/>Greymore had seldom attended any function except those that his father forced him to as a child and younger man, but now he was married and to socialize was expected.