[color=0054a6][b]Adrian[/b][/color]

Adrian had spend the last two days partying with his fellow lords, drinking whiskey and clinking glasses whenever someone shouted "God save our Queen". On one jolly evening, he even went so far as to declare that he would marry an American millionaire soon. A beautiful American heiress. Stunning through and through. If he had only refrained from showing them her travel photographs, the reactions would have been more enthusiastic ... or should he call it sympathetic? 
Lord Douglas had wrinkled his nose and put his index finger on Adrian's screen. "She is delicate, my lord. But her style is too eccentric. How do you intend to [i]tame[/i] her when everything about her screams recklessness?" 
"Oh and those plush lips, I shall recommend her doctor to my wife", Lord Woodbridge chimed in.
"Not only her lips are lush. She somehow reminds me of my former mistress Sophie", another one added. 
And then they all started a lenghty debate about the role of the American woman in the noble society. How she had to prove herself even more than an English woman and completely bow down to the unspoken rules of aristocracy. Had they only continued to keep themselves busy with the less controversial talk about their wives voluptuous bodies...

Adrian, who was already drunk, didn't bother to contradict their statements. Partly, because he knew that it would end badly and on the other hand because he shared most of their values. Probably not to the same extent as the older generation, but he had grown up with these men nevertheless. They were his family. Even though he couldn't choose his family, it still influenced and shaped him. However, the way they stated their opinions annoyed him. Was it necessary to be so vulgar and offensive? To an outsider the discussion must have sounded more like a dispute than an 'mature' exchange of personal views. When the fourth person commented on Azariah's 'ample bosom', Adrian had enough. 
"My lords." He cleared his throat, as nobody paid attention. "Would you..." Again, the loud noise of the crowd drowned his voice. Someone chanted "God save our gracious Queen". More drinks were poured. 

"EVERYBODY NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!" 30 heads turned to Adrian. Shocked. [i]There we go. [/i] He gave them a smug smile. "The party is over. You can discuss your business outside. Thank you." 
Not waiting for their reactions, he turned around and left the parlour. 

To: Azariah
From: Adrian
Subject: Re: It's a date...

Our eagerly-awaited date will take place tomorrow evening. I have sent a little present to your hotel room. I'd be pleased to see you wearing it tomorrow. Sleep well,

Adrian