Jekyll found Elanor getting out of bed, and took her hand to help her. “Everyone is here, now. Would you like a wheelchair? I had one of my servants bring my old one up for you, from when I broke my leg a few decades back.” he smiled, helping Elanor to the door.
Elanor blinked at him. "I don't need a wheelchair. It's fine." she replied. She had left the sword in the room; it was highly impolite to wear a sword to a dinner party, after all. Most civilized women didn't do such a thing.
Henry nodded. "Well, if you do, it's there. Otherwise, come meet people!" he said, taking on a cheerful, bright, fuller tone that what he normally spoke with. This was obviously the face he put on to most of the public, with the only person it seemed he could be honest with being Anna.
She nodded faintly, following him out of the room and down to the dining room. "Thank you, Doctor Jekyll." she said as they walked. She knew he didn't have to offer all of this help to her; he could have just tossed her out on the street without a care.
In truth, Jekyll was hardly honest with anyone, even Anna. Instead, he wore different faces for different people, giving off the illusion of honesty when the reality was all too different. He didn't even know himself, at this point, who he really was. Who he was supposed to be. "Of course, my dear." he smiled, pet names were reserved for social events and this was a social event. Otherwise, he'd use someone's name, but that was less important now that they were in the living room, where most everyone else was. All together, it was about twelve people including Jekyll and Elanor.
Elanor sat herself down on one of the chairs, leaning back against it so that she could be a bit more relaxed. She looked around the group to see if she could recognize anyone. She doubted she would, but it would be interesting if she did.
Elanor wouldn’t have recognized anyone, everyone here was a lord or lady or otherwise someone important in the community. Henry surrounded himself by wealth, despite not personally being very rich himself. He had a small fortune, passed down to him by his father, and he got money from his work, but all in all he led a much more modest life than the rest of the people here.
She was rather glad, actually, that she didn't recognize anyone. It meant she could lie and get away with it. No one would know who she was or where she was from, though the accent was a giveaway for not being English. It was alright, though.
Henry went off to greet guests, when a rich and haughty looking woman came to sit down next to Elanor. "I haven't seen you before. Well, I have, it's all people are gossiping about. But not personally. Mrs. Crane, wife to Mr. Crane, the journalist and owner of several very successful newspapers and magazines alike." she said, as if Elanor would recognize her.
She arched an eyebrow. "I am sure I don't know what it is that you are talking about." she replied. Her heart sped up just a little, anxious that this woman had recognized her. But then, all the papers would have were descriptions; the last image that had been taken had been done years ago, and she had destroyed her most recent portrait for this very reason.
"Oh, well you're the sweet little thing that showed up on Miss Saville's doorstep and is now, shall we say, taking care of dear Henry here?" she said. "It's the latest thing. Some out-of-town woman bleeding out on the docks, showing up at the house of London's most… controversial, shall we say, midwife's house? Apologies, doctor, although I don't know why she insists on the title. Miss Saville only finished medical school, after all." Mrs Crane laughed. "And then being sent to London's finest doctor? And with the speculations on Henry's will… you're obviously an out-of-town sweetheart, my dear, although how you ended up so injured is beyond even me."
(Ma'am ma'am they are wlw they are woolawoo Janet.)
Ah. This was not what she had thought it was. "You are speculating that I am involved with Doctor Jekyll?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips very faintly, the very picture of wounded innocence. "I am afraid you are quite mistaken." she really did not want to be thought of in that way, but what was a good excuse that would explain away her presence here?
(Ma'am ma'am they are wlw they are woolawoo Janet.)
(lmfaoo yes)