The four main players, Lady Dyne and heir, Sir Octave and Ivy, had taken post by the front steps of the grand manor. Servants by the score waited ready to escort guest. The night was to be busy. Five to six was a social hour, to allow guest to meet and mingle. Six marked the speeches and the roll out of heavier foods for a more supper like meal, seven was for dancing and drinks, with eight being the placement of deserts.
Nine marked the official end of the ball but no one would remove guest until eleven.
"Don't worry about your speech, if anyone gives you trouble, this Ivy Nocturne will thrash them."
"Please refrain from 'thrashing the guest' Lady Nocturne." Sir Octave Bandersnatch quietly informed her respectfully, the man was stressed frazzled and over worked. Not that it showed, his silvered hair was perfectly oiled and combed, his sleeves the exact distance needed from cuff to hand.
