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[Quinn Sinclair]

Quinn was busy admiring the new dress she had discovered while perusing the period costume rack with Anne. In front of the costume shop's large dressing room mirror, Quinn happily noted the impressive length of the dress while Anne tied the large, dark purple satin ribbon located at the seam of the empire waist on Quinn's dress. Spending a Friday night at the shop (after pinning their hair up in their choice of period styles) was not anything out of the ordinary for either of them, but Quinn locating a dress she did not have to magically alter to fit her taller frame was.

Lightly and absent-mindedly Quinn tugged on her pendant -- a birthday present from Perry -- while looking at her reflection. On the verge of relating her elation at the dress' perfect colour and length one more time to Anne, a great POP! sounded.

The pressure around Quinn's body broke with a small pop! and a very loud "SURPRISE!" Her right hand pressed against her forehead, because the unannounced side-along disapparation from the costume store had not been something she had braced herself for, Quinn blinked dumbly while taking in her new locale.

In the midst of a large ballroom, complete with candle-filled chandeliers, marble floor, and large supporting columns, all of her friends and many of her acquaintances were situated. They were all dressed in what Quinn quickly deciphered as Regency garb. Above their heads were glittering papers, which lasted after the effects of sudden side-along disapparation disappeared. Quinn squinted at the nearest one to read "Charles Bingley," who upon further inspection was carrying around Catherine De Bourgh. All of her observations seemed to take a great deal of time in Quinn's head. Fortunately for her, the actual passage of time was much faster; barely 5 seconds had passed.

"Brilliant!" Quinn exclaimed to Anne, who had been next to her all along, and to Vivy who had appeared from the crowd. Vivy and Anne shouted "Happy birthday!" to Quinn before the party was put back into motion. Vivy held up a small scroll reading "Miss Elizabeth Bennet" for Quinn to read. The scroll freed itself from Vivy's hand and placed itself just 6 inches above Quinn's head.

The grin that had quickly worked its way onto Quinn's face faltered into an expression of scrutiny. Eyeing Anne and Vivy suspiciously, Quinn arched an eyebrow. "And who, pray tell, is playing Mr. Darcy this evening?"




{DATE: Friday 9 October
TIME: 8 o'clock in the evening
LOCATION: Dewhurst Family Manor, Rural Dorset County

While this thread is technically open to everybody, if your character isn't a friend of Quinn's, you need to think of a valid excuse for your character to be present. The excuse doesn't have to be particularly wonderful -- crashing the party is acceptable; just remember to have your character grab a supplied costume appropriate to Regency England in order to get past the magical barriers that mark off the foyer from the ballroom. Bottom line: if you want to have your character attend, it will happen. People not on the invite list, but who are attending anyway are subject to hilarious decisions made concerning the Jane Austen character they get to be for the night. If your character was not invited, go ahead and make your first post, then you will get a PM from Christ, Suchie, or myself with your Austen character's name. The characters will be given IN CHARACTER, and they will be given by Anne and/or Vivy. SO, that's something to keep in mind. :P

FOR INVITED GUESTS: you were sent invitations and told costumes would be provided, but that was pretty much it. You do not know your character until you get dressed up and have a name tag* slapped on. Even if Anne/Vivy/Quinn dislike your character greatly, there's a good chance your character will be allowed to come in, just for the hilarious Austen character assignment.

Characters taken:

Lady Catherine De Bourgh -- Marcus the cat
Charles Bingley -- Baxter McMitchum
Edmund Bertram -- Jack Scoleri
Edward Ferrars -- Perry Gilmore
Elinor Dashwood -- Viviane Winter
Emma Woodhouse -- Anne O'Neill
Fitzwilliam Darcy -- Justin Dewhurst
Frank Churchill -- Harry Scoleri
George Knightley -- Reginald Harper
Jane Fairfax -- Natalie Woodcroft
John Thorpe -- Dunstan Qydlock
John Willoughby -- Marcus Mordred
Lizzie Bennet -- Quinn Sinclair
Lydia Bennet -- Cece Archer
Philip Elton -- Florent Mercier
William Collins -- Trenton Miller

* Name tags are actually tiny, unrolled scrolls with a faintly shimmering gold light that float above your character's head with their Austen character's name written on them. They can be pulled down for closer inspection, but they will pop back up as soon as they are released. It's just classier.

All god-moding approved by the players in question}

[Justin Dewhurst]

The thrill Justin felt as Quinn popped into the room was considerable. For the past half an hour he had been working hard in order completely take on the character of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Scowling at Emma Woodhouse's high spirits and commenting to Charles Bingley about the young ladies in the room had only done so much to get Justin in character. In order to properly play his role (a large role being his desire for allowing the use of his family house: "Now, is this one night in the life of the characters, or do the relationships progress according to the books by some breakdown of time based on the next five hours?"), he needed his novel counterpart to fully show his range.

After shouting "SURPRISE!" happily to Quinn, he coughed lightly and added in a considerably less enthused manner, "surprise." Thrilled with his adaptability to the part, Justin stalked over to the centre of the commotion. To his delight, Bingley was already there. Focusing intently on his mantra for the evening, what would Mr. Darcy do?, Justin eyed Quinn and then turned to Baxter.

"She is tolerable;" he said with forced effort for the sake of Bingley. Almost broodingly, Justin continued, "but not handsome enough to tempt me." Justin fought down the gargantuan urge to look for approval for his excellent role playing from Viviane and Anne.

[Florent Mercier]

Florent rather thought he had been extraordinarily forbearing this evening. He had not as yet actually eaten all the frosting on the birthday cake (which was not to say that he had not tried - he just hadn't succeeded), nor had he threatened to pee on anything. He had donned the knee breeches that had been peremptorily slapped down in front of him without demur. He had let Vivy tie his neckcloth without flailing too much. He had even been moderately civil to Marcus Mordred.

All this had been achieved at least partly because he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. He had never set foot in Dewhurst Castle before, and it was a notable change from the gang's usual choice of digs for their parties. Naturally Florent wanted to run about the place investigating and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, but had been interrupted on his first attempt by a very unpleasant ghost who had spent a good fifteen minutes casting aspersions on his manners, his family, his wits, and even his looks. Florent had decided after that to explore later. After all, he realised the necessity of being discreet if he was to find out if Dewhurst was up to anything fishy.

He was planning his modus operandi when Quinn and Anne appeared in the middle of the ballroom with a loud pop. Forgetting his plans, he joined the others in yelling "SURPRISE!" before producing a red plastic noisemaker and blowing on it loudly. It was removed from him before he had even got into his stride. "Stop that", Vivy said irately. "It's not period-appropriate!" She thrust a heavy book into his hand. "Here, entertain yourself with this."

He looked down at the book and screamed in an equal mixture of fury and horror. "A Bible? What the hell, man? I hate God! You know that!"

"You're Mr. Elton", Vivy explained calmly. "I just thought you would appreciate the accessory." She departed hastily before Florent could say anything, although he did notice that her nametag, which said that she was Elinor Dashwood. Among the other Jane Austen characters present were Willoughby (Marcus Mordred - perfect casting) and William Collins (Trent...wait, what?) Both of those he recognised somewhat. Of his own, he remained in perfect ignorance. After all, he had flatly refused to read Emma and he had slept through the movie.

Instead, he settled for narrowing his eyes at the characters that he did recognise. Dewhurst who had been proclaimed the evening's Darcy was approaching Quinn with the clear intention of talking to her. Florent pushed his way through the crowd (the walking stick was convenient in poking people out of the way) and quickly arrived at the scene to listen to the detestable Darcy air his opinion. He thumped Dewhurst on the head with the King James Bible. "Hey man", he started before remembering that he was supposed to be period-appropriate. "That is - oddsbodkins sirrah! Crave the damsel's pardon, vile cad, or be prepared to meet thy Maker!"

[Anne O'Neill]

Smoothing down her costume with a smugly self satisfied air, Anne was just about to answer Quinn's query when the answer conveniently presented itself, apparently more than eager to please as he quoted directly from what Anne knew was her friend's favorite Austen novel. An approving smile was sent in Justin's direction as Anne deftly moved behind Quinn to retie the bow on her dress. She hadn't been quite satisfied with it's appearance when they had apparated, and was determined to rectify it as soon as possible.

Leaning in as jerked the ribbon tighter and proceeded to loop it, she began to whisper teasingly, "You can thank us lat-" when Florent pelted Quinn's Darcy with a book. "Stop that!" she commanded, frowning at Florent in her best imperial style. Then, grinning at Quinn as she finished the bow with a flourish and stepped out from behind her, she added, "REALLY, Mr. Elton, while we know you are a particular friend of the ladies, we would all prefer if you limited your talents in that area for tonight to fetching drinks, dancing with single women of little personal attractions, and turning the pages when we are called upon to perform at the pianoforte. Duels are SO unpleasant, don't you agree?"

Without waiting for him to answer, Anne stepped towards Florent, quickly linking her right arm under one of his, and turning him slightly so that he had a good view of Trenton. "Besides," she continued, widening her eyes in feigned innocence and smiling in a politely unpleasant way, "we had so counted on you entertaining Mr. Collins! You could debate Fordyce's Sermons together! Passionately! In private! With your tongues!"

[Viviane Winter]

Strange as it was to wear a dress whose waist began approximately at her armpits, Viviane was happy with the way the evening had turned out thus far. Much as she enjoyed living in the 21st century, it was nice to step briefly into a world where grace, and decorum, and good manners were all in mode. Not that she harboured any illusions that this charmed state of affairs was going to last long - any party with such an impressive number of hooligans on the guest list was bound to degenerate very rapidly. She could only hope that they would manage to evade the long arm of the law this time.

As a disoriented Quinn made her appearance, she quickly snatched away Florent's infernal noise making device, replaced it with a bible, smiled smugly at his shriek of indignation, and started making her way over to the guest of honour, intending to convey her felicitations. Her progress was somewhat impeded by the number of people present and the fact that she regularly had to stop and make small talk with the ones that she knew. It was only when she noticed Florent (who had managed to push his way through the throng much faster than she had) accosting Quinn's boss that she dropped her attempts to be polite. Elbowing people aside, she arrived at the scene of the crime looking distinctly harried.

Thankfully, Anne seemed to have the situation under control, separating the pair deftly and ordering Florent away. She raised her eyebrows at her. "I wonder what Mr. Collins did to provoke such ire? Surely inflicting Mr. Elton on him is a little excessive. One must be charitable about these things, you know!"

[Quinn Sinclair]

"She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me." Quinn smiled dryly while pressing her lips together. She nodded to herself, because she honestly should not have been surprised to see Justin. Even as a part of the joke, the humour of the situation prevailed. Florent played his part ensuring the merriment, to which Quinn grinned at in appreciation. Cannon or not, Mr. Darcy deserved some bodily harm for such flagitious insult.

Quinn turned her attention from the beating of Mr. Darcy to clever misses Woodhouse and Dashwood. Thanking Anne and Vivy for putting her boss in the role of romantic lead had not been the precise reaction Quinn had to Darcy's appearance. Quinn could appreciate a set-up, but that appreciation waned greatly when she happened to be the one set up. On the other hand, she could appreciate all of the thought and work that had gone into setting up a party she would love. When balancing the good and the bad, Quinn decided changing the passwords to all of the fire station's enchanted locks would do nicely for thankingher friends.

"I do believe we are being too harsh toward Mr. Elton -- for what has he done to have Mr. Collins thrust upon his company?" Quinn elongated her neck and smiled sweetly to Florent. "Mr. Elton's reaction to the offence of a woman's honour may have been enthusiastic, but not entirely inappropriate, to be sure." Playing at Justin's game, she she stepped further away from him, as though to confess privately to her friends. "I could easily forgive Mr. Darcy his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

[Justin Dewhurst]

Justin never saw the Bible coming, and scarcely observed what it was until after his beating. Scowling, he turned his attention to his attacker and risked losing character. Decades of Dungeons & Dragons with Baxter proved to be supportive in the trying moment. A deep breath was taken as he straightened his shoulders and recalled the haughtiness Mr. Darcy was renowned for. His temple was still smarting as he addressed Mr. Elton. "Mr. Elton, upon witnessing your violent tendencies, it is scarcely a surprise to hear Miss Woodhouse refused your proposal!"

Unsure if it would be a break in character to assess injury, he decided he didn't care. Justin rubbed his head while casting an annoyed eye to Florent. Not only was Florent breaking character, he was using a dialogue completely inappropriate for the Regency period. The young man may have been French, but this is ludicrous!

Before retreating from the small group of friends, he eyed Quinn shrewdly. After his questionably in character conduct, Justin deemed it necessary to make his next appearance as Darcy all the more convincing by setting it up. Rather than intense thought behind stoic features, which had been his intention, Justin made what could easily be described as a "creepy face" before briskly exiting on stage left.

[Quinn Sinclair]

Justin's parting glance caused Quinn to wonder if he had confused Mr. Darcy and Hannibal Lector. She was on the verge of posing the question to him before he ran off. Quinn released the spot of cheek she had pulled between her molars to prevent outright laughing at Justin's disturbing appraisal. Slowly and with minuscule action she shook her head at her employer's retreating back.

"SO," she addressed the party's co-conspirators, "where's the firewhiskey?" Quinn tossed a look over to Florent before returning her attention to Vivy and Anne. "And whose idea was it to give Florent a large book that could so easily be used for bludgeoning?"

[Florent Mercier]

Florent opened his mouth to argue with Quinn and Vivy and then stopped short suddenly. Wait....they're DEFENDING me? That made no sense at all. He pondered briefly the possibility that they were up to something but rejected it quickly. Even if they were, there was no point rejecting any support, temporary though it might be. He returned quickly, therefore, to the task of taunting Dewhurst.

"You hear that man?" he began, blissfully and unheedingly twisting Quinn's words to suit his own purposes. "She said you were inappropriate, you stinking cur. Thou hast mortified yon sweet maiden's pride the last time." Recalling something that Anne had been saying about duels, he whipped off a glove with great aplomb and was about to thrust it into Dewhurst's face when the man interrupted, babbling on about Wodehouse and proposals, before exiting from that scene.

Florent let out a crow of smug delight. "Ha! You see that? Yon baseborn coward retreats with his tail between his legs!" However, something that the man had said before departing niggled his brain and he stopped and frowned. "So...is it Jane Austen night, or Jeeves and Wooster?" Giving considerable thought to the matter, he finally opined, "Because Jeeves and Wooster would be cooler. I think Marcus should play Spode. He looks like he'd design ladies' underwear."

Interrupted in this assignment of hypothetical roles by Quinn's question, he whipped around to look accusingly at Vivy and pointed one quivering finger at her. "She did!" he said with a world of meaning in his voice. "She's trying to convert us again, yon vile serpent in the grass."

[Quinn Sinclair]

Quinn shook her head in mock disapproval at Viviane and Florent. Well, when it came to Florent, the disapproval was more genuine than feigned. She gave a lopsided smile of insincere disgruntlement. "If we ever have an author themed party, promise me you won't let Florent play Tolstoy." Quinn jumped in before he could proclaim affection for an author with a boatload of books. "OR Wodehouse. Or any serial author, for that matter. Imagine the damage he could do with a full set of Hardy Boys novels! I wouldn't object to his taking on Harper Lee... she only wrote one book."

Polite clapping interrupted Quinn and signified the end of a song and dance. Eager to go out on the dance floor and fail miserably at a regency folk dance herself, Quinn forgot about further berating Florent's violent streak. She grabbed his hand to pull him toward the floor. "Come Mr. Elton, let me have this dance." Florent wasn't exactly the type most people would have picked for a proper dance, but Quinn was convinced his enthusiasm, playfulness and appreciation for imitation would make him a decent partner to start with -- just so long as his attention span could be reigned in.

While pulling Florent off, Quinn looked back over her shoulder to Anne and Viv. "And thank you! I love the party!"

[Marcus Mordred]

Jane Austen was not Marcus' cup of tea: it may be old and it may be deemed 'classic,' but it's still bloody chick lit. When he was given his assignment as "John Willoughby" the name held little interest or meaning. He had complained about re-using the theme from Perry's party, but with a more gentile approach. "A Gatsby Party! They're fantastic!" he had mirthfully suggested to Viviane weeks ago. His costume indicated his lack of success in convincing Anne or Vivy to reuse party themes in the same year.

Marcus had been spiking the punch when Anne and Quinn entered the room with a pop. He took his time wading through people in the hope that Anne would quickly abandon the camp that Viviane was doubtlessly in the middle of. Tension still remained high after his stunt during her interview a few months back. In all fairness, the tension remained high because they were still embroiled in a war of retaliation. It was really nothing terribly uncommon for their interaction, the only time they had ever gotten along being the time Quinn and Aidan Pearse had dated. Regardless, Marcus was already put off by his pantaloons and fruity boots with tassels. He hardly needed Anne or Quinn to add to the insult.

Upon arriving at their little group he observed Quinn pulling Mercier to the dance floor. Dancing with Florent seemed like a bad idea, but with Anne's presence looming, dancing in its entirety didn't seem like a bad idea at all. "May I have this dance Miss W-" he squinted to read Vivy's scroll. "Miss Dashwood." He asked in a particularly smarmy way, hoping a little oil would go a long way.

[Natalie Woodcroft]

After making sure for the upteenth time that she wasn't stepping on her dress, Natalie gave a good scan to the room. Although she could see many faces she thought she remembered for times long gone, she however couldn’t see many that she was truly acquainted to, -the birthday girl for starters. But optimistic as she was feeling tonight, she told herself this would only help in portraying the role of privy and very private Jane Fairfax. Of course the source of her optimism made it at the same time harder to stay in role.

Because Natalie was secretly –and not so secretly- completely thrilled, she had always welcomed the idea of a costumed party, but a Regency and Jane Austen custom party was much, much more than she had hoped for. This in turn was the cause of her spontaneously grinning like an idiot and even some poorly contained giggles, both being things that Miss Fairfax would have never allowed. Yet all that kept coming to her head was, thanks for making me read all those Jane Austen books, Mom! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Wiiii!!! Books she would have rather re-read at least once in the past five years, but as it was her memory would have to suffice her.

The other contributing factor to her excitement was that she going to spend the evening in company of Mr. Collins, which was quite promising. Not only because Mr. Collins was the reason of some of her favourite Pride & Prejudice passages, but also because first dates were always a good source for amusement, be it during the date if it was good, or afterwards while remembering embarrassing situations. Not to say that she wasn’t slightly nervous about the entire ordeal, but this particular thought was something she had succeeded to avoid for most of the night, that is the past ten minutes.

As the birthday girl finally made her entrance –Nat believed her to be Quinn, although Trenton could have said Lynn - she joined the chorus of "SURPRISE!" with authentic enthusiasm. Then, quickly remembering her character, she turned to her companion and said the most contained voice she could manage –which actually wasn’t much-, “Oh! I am terribly sorry Mr. Collins. I do hope I have not made you uncomfortable with my shouting. I do not know what took me. I seem to have got carried away, such an improper thing to do…” Okay, perhaps this Jane was a bit more loquacious than usual, but she would have to do.

[Anne O'Neill]

"Well, " Anne said, watching Quinn drift away, pulling Florent with her, "I suppose everything turned out rather well." Anne spoke with considerably faded enthusiasm as she wearily let out a sigh and exchanged glances with Viviane. The two had been planning and perfecting the party for what seemed like an eternity (finding a group well versed- and more importantly, willing to perform Regency waltzes had taken a minor miracle) and had expended a considerable amount of energy in the past couple of weeks on spells, charms, and gathering enough Regency clothing to outfit a small army. The task had only been made more onerous by the fact that Anne was already up to her head in work at the Department.

In the few months since she had been hired by McMitchum, she had endured countless hours of pointless group building exercises (seemingly designed so her boss could dress his cat in matching outfits when the staff went hiking, biking, or puzzling enough, fencing) combined with very hard, very real work. The labs and storage unit McMitchum had inherited was a mess and the filing system (if one could call it that) even worse. The task of reorganizing it all had been long and arduous, and mainly fell on Anne as inspections from the ministry inspector neared.

Tired and almost wearied just by the sight of the dancers, Anne rubbed her temples, half hoping Vivy would offer her some sympathy (she was always the best flatmate to look to for mothering) or at least directions to one of the Dewhurst's bedrooms. Unfortunately, it seemed Anne was to receive neither as Willoughby made his entrance to claim Vivy's attention instead. Scowling, Anne haughtily (and in what she considered particularly effective Emma Woodhouse style) let out a slight "hmfph" of disapproval, before airily informing Viviane of her new intentions for the night. "Well," she said, pointedly ignoring Marcus, "I am off to get in a good twenty minutes of sleep in the coat closet before the next dance starts, Elinor. Don't let any complete scoundrels ruin your honour in the meantime."

Pulling her light evening wrap around her, Anne started off in what she could only presume was the correct direction, scowling slightly. Her scowl deepened considerably as she walked past Trenton and his date for the night. The nerve! she thought as she slowed ever so minutely to stare daggers at him as she passed, To bring a date to MY flatmate's birthday party!

She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was being rather peevish about the situation (she certainly wouldn't have objected to most of their other friends bringing along an uninvited guest) but the embarrassment of having an old boyfriend show up at a social gathering she had arranged with a date when she had none, was enough to make her forego any qualms about the injustice of her feelings. The sight of their nametags glittering above their heads did cheer her up somewhat as she walked past, mostly because she had played a great part in assigning their roles for tonight. However, the sight of Miss Fairfax happily (and teasingly) babbling away to Mr. Collins regardless of her assigned role as the world's most boringly accomplished ninny, didn't do much to enhance her current mood. Anne regally swept past the pair in stoney silence, before graciously greeting some of the other guests lingering nearby (just in case her point hadn't been made clear enough- to Trenton at least), then proceeded to stalk into the closet nearest the front entrance.

Closing the door firmly shut behind her, Anne leaned against the door, inwardly debating how much time she should give to sulking and napping before she made a grand, and completely devastating, reappearance. Thirty minutes she decided, quite sensibly, should do it.

[Trenton Miller]

From the moment he was handed a pair of puffy weirdo slacks as Viviane assigned Natalie the role of Jane Fairfax, Trenton knew he was in for an interesting night. Emma had never been high on Trenton's reading list. For Anne's sake he had skimmed parts of the book before finding a Cliff's Notes on it. Of what he could recall of Jane Fairfax, she was not liked by Emma. He gave Viviane a suspicious look, because even before seeing Anne for the evening he knew she would be playing Emma. Trenton and Anne hadn't been an item since Hogwarts, and he knew Vivy was up to something. Her subtle naughtiness was part of what made her so endearing... up to this point.

In full Mr. Collins garb, Trenton left Natalie for a bit with the promise of fetching her a glass of punch. By the time he returned to his date, Anne and Quinn had just popped into the room. He pointed out Quinn to Natalie before yelling surprise. A smile crept onto Trenton's face as he noticed Natalie enjoying herself before the party really had the chance to start. He was particularly fond of the scenes that seemed to pop up at any function Viviane, Quinn, and/or Anne were responsible for. Her enthusiasm for the festivities was oddly endearing.

"It is all in good fun, my dear Miss Fairfax" he replied pleasantly to her. "Would you care for a turn on the floor?" Trenton half bowed a little awkwardly before putting out his hand. As he looked up he caught sight of Anne walking by. Trenton waved hello to her without a reply. He gave a small shrug to himself and turned his attention back to Natalie. "Even we men of God see fit to enjoy a good time on earth now and then!" Clueless as to whether or not Mr. Collins would say something like that, Trenton just decided to continue winging it for the evening.

[Natalie Woodcroft]

Answering Trenton’s bow with an equally awkward curtsy, which had to be quickly interrupted at the risk of her stepping over her dress and falling, Natalie only caught his wave with the corner of her eyes. Still, curious to see if it was someone she knew, she tried to make an effort to get a glimpse of the girl who was now effusively greeting a blonde man to their right. Even if she didn’t recognize her face she did recognize the name in the tag. She also noticed that while Emma Woodhouse had stopped to welcome other guests, she had walked right past them without a word.

Perfectly aware that her knowledge of Emma was lacking greatly, she did however remember enough to know that Emma and Jane hadn’t been on the best terms. And while she also knew Jane to be a rather ‘controversial’ character, she hadn’t really given much thought to her role assignment up until now. Should I? Even if she still thought it to be a rather trivial affair, doubt had been planted in her mind.

Regardless, she didn’t have time to make much of the entire situation, for Trenton had caught her attention again. “I am honoured by your proposal, sir.” Taking his hand with a more measured smile -easier to play now that her excitement had dimmed slightly-, she waited for him to lead them to the dance floor. Yet, on a second thought, she gently withdrawn her hand and added, with a note of mild concern, “although, are we not to obtain approval from your honourable Lady Catherine De Bourgh first?” Truth be told, she had just wanted to say the name Lady Catherine De Bourgh for amusement’s sake.