[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula had meticulously overseen the creation of her dress the moment she got wind of the Flamel ball. She strove for anything to please Phineas now for she couldn't falter in her gradual absolution of her infidelity. She couldn't allow for anything to go wrong or sour the progress she was certain she was making. Everything had to be perfect, she had to be perfect, she couldn't afford to start making backwards progress now. With that in mind, she had chosen black last minute as the color of her dress for she was strictly speaking supposed to be showing some sort of mourning for the dead infant and she supposed she could at least show it in the form of wearing black if she couldn't bring herself to appear grief-stricken. <p>
She winced in pain as one of the servants pulled the laces of her corset; it was a new one and slightly smaller than her usual, the latter she was very much aware of at that moment. Grasping the post of her bed, she glanced over her shoulder at the servant and demanded it be forced tighter and very near lost her temper when protests were made that it wouldn't budge. "I do not care what you must do to achieve it, but you will make it tighter or find yourself without employment!" she snarled angrily, irritable already from the stress and the fact that she was already feeling lightheaded. <p>
Thankfully for the servant's state of employment, she did manage to get the corset laced a little tighter and Ursula was content enough in mind, though perhaps not quite in body seeing as she could barely breathe. If Phineas didn't appreciate her effort she would not be happy to put it mildly. After that part of dressing was done with, the rest followed smoothly and without a hitch and before too long, she was descending the staircase, a fan in one hand while the other held onto the bannister for dear life.
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Phineas was not pleased with Ursula making him wait. He was tempted to retire to the parlor while he did, simply to remind Ursula that she was his and that she must strive at all times to please him, but she was saved from that particular reminder by finally descending the stairs.
<br/><br/>
He gave a brief, approving nod upon seeing his wife was suitably dressed in black; for all that neither of them had been sorry to see the bastard finally perish, it must appear that they were mourning the child's death if they wished the public to continue to believe that it had been 'their' child. Past that, he made no note of her appearance. He had never been one for foolish and useless complements.
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"Come along, Ursula," he said briskly. "If you wish to make an appearance at this celebration, then we must depart."

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula had hoped he would perhaps make some mention of her attire, some compliment or appraisal - even a criticism to show he was looking but there wasn't even a roaming eye that she could detect. Frowning as she reached the bottom of the staircase, she came to stand next to him. Despite his insistence that they needed to leave, she was determined that her efforts would not be ignored. <p>
"Phineas, the dress is suitable, is it not?" she asked, trying to make it sound less artificial than it was. After all, she was fishing for compliments and trying to do so without being too obvious. She looked at him with a straight face as she tried to hide her true intentions behind a look of innocence. Or as close to it as Ursula was capable.
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As his wife spoke, Phineas's lips thinned. He did not care about her dress past the fact that it was appropriate for mourning, and he had no desire to stand here discussing her wardrobe decisions. "If you were not certain that it was suitable, then why did you purchase it?" he sneered, turning to the door. "Come along. I have no desire to be stuck at the ball until dawn because we cannot make it there at a reasonable time."
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He did not wait for her to speak again, but rather strode towards the door. Either she would follow or she would not. He almost hoped that she didn't follow, because if that was the case then he could put in a brief appearance, claim his wife was 'too distraught' to attend, and then return home for a night of peace.
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The carriage was waiting for them outside, and Phineas did pause then, ready to allow his wife to enter the carriage first. Propriety must be followed, and appearances upheld.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Her face fell so dramatically that one might've thought she had just been suddenly immersed in ice water. Of course without the look of surprise, merely the suddenness of expression. Did not most husbands admire a well-presented wife? More than a little put out by not receiving the compliments she had been hoping for, it was with a resentful glare that she watched him walk away from her before she thrust her nose into the air in a determinedly haughty fashion and followed swiftly. <p>
If he thought he was getting rid of her that easy then he was very much mistaken. <p>
She lowered her nose a slight degree when she passed him to get into the carriage, relying on one of the servants to help her in which she was rather more grateful for than normal considering what she was wearing. Ursula hoped there would be dancing on his part for she had greatly missed dancing, she almost pined for it though perhaps not quite. She hoped excuses would not be made for mourning for though she was putting on a show of being decidedly upset, she had no intention of appearing so dreadfully pained that she would deny herself of dancing. "I do like a good ball," she remarked matter-of-factually, hoping it might draw her husband in for conversation.
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What was he supposed to do? Praise her every time she did not utterly fail in her responsibilities? No, Phineas simply assumed she would do things correctly, and there was no need to pat her on the head every time she didn't fall on her face. Climbing up into the carriage, he shut the door and motioned to the driver to start moving.
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He hoped that she would remain silent for the whole trip. There was nothing to be discussed at the moment. He provided everything she needed, and would even be coming home to see her on a monthly basis after returning to school. If she would only be content, then there would be no more issues with their marriage.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Small talk, though invariably frustrating to some people, was something Ursula personally felt she excelled at. Nevertheless, she didn't like the fact that it was something she felt she had to practice on her husband. Conversation ought to run rather smoothly she thought. They had been married long enough after all. <p>
"Shall we be dancing tonight, Phineas?" she asked, trying to sound as pleasant as she could and unperturbed by the fact that he had been rather reluctant to pick up on the conversation she had hoped would start. "I believe it has been far too long since either of us have danced, is it not?" Ursula looked out of the carriage from the corner of her eyes, observing the steadily darkening scene passing by. She hoped very much he would not be depriving her of dancing, even if her efforts to dress appealingly for him had her so tightly laced she doubted she would be able to do much of it without passing out.

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"It is likely," Phineas answered stiffly. He was never entirely certain what his wife wanted from him or why. None of this made any sense to him. What he wanted from their marriage was simple and clean cut: an obedient wife who would not embarass him, and healthy sons that he did not have to doubt the paternity of. That was it.
<br/><br/>
Ursula, on the other hand, seemed to want something more. Phineas could not imagine what it was; he never had seen what women got out of marriage aside from status and security, and he thought status and security should be enough. He provided both and could not fathom why his wife was not perfectly content.
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"We must not dance much," he said firmly, feeling as though he should not have to explain this to his wife. "We will make an appearance, but return home without spending much time at the celebration. We are in mourning, after all." He knew his wife was happy that the bastard was dead, but it would never do for her to show it in public ... and after she had shown she had little enough sense to stray in the first place, Phineas did find himself occasionally doubting her capability to deal with other matters as well.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula could not hold back the smallest of triumphant smirks, glad to hear that she had secured him for at least one dance. It would be like old times and this pleased her. Ordinarily, had feelings not contaminated her perfect indifference at the very beginning of their marriage, she would have been been perfectly content in her lifestyle. She had everything she could want for; money, social standing, an heir for her husband and yet the one thing that she didn't have, the one thing she had never really expected in the first place was the one thing she wanted above all other things. At least above all things while she had them, goodness knew if she lost any of it her priorities would probably shift dramatically.<p>
"Of course not, you are quite right," she agreed, not too fussed that he intended to leave early. Perhaps she could coerce him to spend his time with her when they returned. It might be a challenge but she was confident enough in her own abilities to at least try. "Perhaps we shall dance more at the next ball," she suggested offhandedly, hoping there would be another ball soon and without the constraints of having to conform to the expectations of mourning. As much as she liked the color black, she liked having some control over the shades of her dresses.
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"Perhaps," Phineas said in a clipped tone. He willed the carriage to get to the Etherium's residence faster. After all, the quicker that they arrived, the quicker that they could leave. He was not at all looking forward to the night; for all that Nicholas Flamel was a well respected member of the community, the ball was being held at the home of a pair of children. Shockingly well behaved children, he vaguely remembered from their very recent time at his school, but children all the same.
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At least their destination was close enough that he was spared further drivel. The carriage pulled up at the elaborate front gate, and he stepped out and offered a hand to his wife so that he could help her down and they could go and get this blasted thing over with. "Come, my wife."

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Apparently despite her efforts, he would not be coerced into making light conversation. Frowning to herself as she looked out the window, she resigned to fall silent for the rest of the journey, though as it was they were practically there already. <p>
A sense of satisfaction washed over Ursula as the carriage finally drew to a halt - how long had it been since she'd actually been to a ball? And it was even longer since she had attended one where she felt it might be possible to enjoy it. She couldn't help but give a smile as she accepted his help out of the carriage, a rather sneering smile perhaps (though that was unintentional) but a smile all the same and if she ended up sticking to her 'grieving mother' role then it could very well be the last time she did that evening. "Of course," she replied smoothly, relishing the feeling of being at the top of her game again, no longer plagued by illicit affairs and illegitimate children.
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His feeling about Ursula and her affair were something that he could not let effect him now. Their marriage, to the outside world, was perfect -- and it would remain that way. Leading her through the gate and up the stairs. Then they entered the hall.
<br/><br/>
Well, this was certainly ostentatious and feminine. Phineas sneered at the apparently living garden of a hall, although deep down -- very[i/] deep down -- he was impressed that the boy had been able to pull it off. There was no way that this could have been the girl's work, for all that she [i]had successfully completely the animagus transformation.
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Leading his wife silently and briskly through the hall, Phineas was glad to reach the double doors of the ballroom and lead his wife onto the landing at the top of the grand staircase. Appearances were everything, and they would appear to be the perfect grieving couple.

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Ursula took in her surroundings as they passed through the hallway, her eyes discerning and scrutinizing. She decided they would have to host a ball soon, she also fully intended to outdo what she thought was obnoxious frippery though that could very well have been a form of jealousy speaking, not that she thought that was the case at all. She preferred her decorations more... opulent, more regal. Heavy decorations with rich, dark color schemes were more along her lines of preference. <p>
Yes, she would have done it differently she decided. If- no when they held a ball next, she fully intended for the decorations to be far superior. Then let the guests decide which they preferred. <p>
The quick pace Phineas lead her at was proving steadily more difficult for Ursula, not only because her corset was successfully reminding her of how wonderful breathing was but because she was not fond of feeling rushed when it wasn't on her own terms. That being said, she was not about to broach the subject for she knew how to pick and choose her battles. Not that she really wanted to have any battles at all. <p>
Now stood at the top of an admittedly fine staircase - though she would much rather declare their own far grander - she assumed the best somber expression she could.
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Balls were not exactly Phineas's idea of an enjoyable diversion, and so it was easy to look as though he was morning the death of Ursula's bastard. He would much rather be spending the evening at home with his wife, re-establishing his possession of her. It was odd; rather than just the usual mild interest that he occasionally had in his wife, he found himself wondering if he could manage to get her to return home with him even sooner than planned.
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He was especially noticing the narrowness of her waist and the curve of her hips; she looked particularly fertile. As Phineas led her down the stairs and entered the ballroom. He had promised his wife a dance, and a dance she would get. One hand went to that narrow waist, the other brushed the side of her neck gently before taking her hand. He would dance with her, and then perhaps she would be willing to return home with him.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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A pale hand reached up to tuck an annoyingly stray strand of hair behind her ear, her finger brushing the earring that hung from that particular ear. She had been waiting for a chance to make use of the earrings Elladora had given her for Christmas and a ball seemed the perfect opportunity to exercise the novelty of new jewelry. <p>
She kept her head held characteristically high as he lead her down the stairs, peering out from under her dark lashes to survey the other guests briefly before they joined the fray. Had Ursula given up on Phineas paying her any particular attention rather than the somewhat cold indifference that he had so far displayed? More or less, yes. Though she fully intended to take advantage of any opportunity she could find to entice him otherwise without doing anything improper. <p>
So naturally she was more than delighted by the sensation of his hand now resting on her waist; it was a good start by all means. Of course the brief contact with her neck surprised her further, that much evident by the look on her face which was quickly changed a degree by the twitch of her lips into the smallest of smug smiles. Ursula inched closer to him, perhaps bordering as the tiniest bit too closer as he took her hand, wanting very much to encourage him further. Perhaps it was her lack of dancing and balls of late but she was starting to pick up the hope of enticing him that she had held earlier.
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Ursula slid closer to him than the dance required and Phineas pulled her even closer. He wanted her. It was a little bizarre; he did not usually find himself taken in by passion. Now, however, he found himself wondering how quickly they could leave without insulting their hosts. He wanted to get his wife back home and into his bed.
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With Ursula in his arms, Phineas danced with her close to him, his thoughts far from dancing. Instead he was thinking of the soft curves that his wife hid under her corset, the pale flesh. One dance, maybe two, and then surely they could leave.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula's overall surprise continued as he did not correct her presumptuous placement of herself, but in fact pulled her even closer. While it certainly surprised her, it was by no means something she disapproved of. Had it been more of a normal thing for him to do, she might have sought to distance herself slightly out of a need to uphold propriety but it wasn't and so she didn't. She would take every such gesture he made her and encourage them and maybe he would learn to do it more often. She certainly hoped so. She could very easily grow accustomed to the proximity, the warmth of his arms around her and the idea that he might harbor some affection for her still. <p>
Ah dancing... She had missed it so very much. What she couldn't say she missed for she hadn't ever really experienced it before, was the more passionate way in which he held her and though it was probably quite subtle, she noticed it immediately. Was this a one off or something that would become a regular occurrence? "You dance very well tonight, Phineas. Not that you do not dance well any other night, of course, but tonight especially..." she murmured, looking at his face for reaction and hoping it would be a favorable reaction. She hoped so.</div></div>

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Phineas did not much care what sort of drivel Ursula was spouting, but he did want to get her back home. The urge was becoming quite urgent, whatever its inexplicable source. "I can think of better ways to spend our evening than dancing," he murmured quietly, for his wife's ears alone. He did not care if she was embarrassed, and in fact hoped for an appropriately modest blush. Some sign she was truly his and his alone ...
<br/><br/>
Perhaps a child, one that was truly theirs, was what they needed. Something to remind his fickle and faithless wife who she belonged to.
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And there was only one way to get a child, despite the fact that it was not the ideal time. Elladora had emphasized that it was possible at nearly any time to impregnate his wife ... and perhaps if Ursula felt her belly swell with his seed she would be reminded of who they were to each other.
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The music changed; Phineas kept his wife close in his arms. "Have we danced enough for one night? Perhaps we should return home." His fingers stroked the side of her narrow waist briefly as he lead her in the dance.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula didn't dare believe he was insinuating what he was. It certainly was not like him to suggest such things and yet she could see no other meaning to his words. Embarrassed to be thinking quite so lewdly in public of all places, she could only feel the heat rise to her cheeks. "Phineas!" she hissed, though not maliciously so, more surprised at his suggestion and slightly shocked. She couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into him, what had possibly brought on such... behavior. Whatever it was, she could find no objection to it, in fact once they were out of the eye of public, she would be more than happy to encourage it. <p>
As much as Ursula had been desirous of a good ball with plenty of dancing, the fact was she could not dance too much as it was anyway and she simply couldn't find it within herself to do anything to sully the change in Phineas that she was noticing. <p>
"I shall not object to returning home if that is what you desire," she replied in lowered tones, enjoying the sensation of his hands around her waist, uncomfortable though her corset might be. "It is not always necessary for there to be a ball for one to dance, anyhow."
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It was enough, Phineas hurried his wife back out of the ball with barely a thought for what others would think. He was fairly certain they could claim grief over the loss of 'their child', and no one would ask for more details.
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He could not get into the carriage fast enough, and once he and Ursula were secure there his hands started roaming her body. Damn corset and layers of cloth -- he wanted his wife, and he wanted her now. Of course, he should likely wait until they got home, but he found himself uncharacteristically impatient.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Ursula could only blink in surprise at how swiftly Phineas swept her out of the ballroom, moving without question but marveling at him all the same. What on earth had possessed her husband? She could only wonder further as she was rather urgently encouraged into the carriage, the speed of their departure making her a little lightheaded for a moment or so. <p>
"Is here really appropriate?" she asked in a shocked whisper, asking more out of a habit of propriety rather than genuine objection. After all, it wasn't as though he was eager in such a way all the time and who was she to pass up an opportunity? It certainly wouldn't encourage him to repeat it if she made a terrible fuss. As it was, she leaned in closer toward him to show she was not averse to to his attention as she might have seemed. He didn't often manage to surprise her as he wasn't usually the unpredictable or spontaneous sort but he was succeeding at present.
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Appropriate? Well, it certainly was not ... but the parlor had not been exactly 'appropriate' either. "We will be home soon, and whatever I desire is appropriate in my house," Phineas said firmly, his lips trailing along his wife's jaw.
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His fingers twisted the top button of her dress, although he did manage to refrain from undoing her top during the short (yet far too long) trip back to their home. The door was opened, and without a thought for the servant who was attending to them Phineas led Ursula quickly through the door without a single thought for how her corset might affect her ability to keep up with him.
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He didn't care. Whatever the source of this urgent desire for his wife, Phineas was going to have her. She was simply lucky that he was going to let her get in the house before undressing her ... and that he intended to head towards their marriage bed.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Whatever had possessed Phineas, was starting to catch. Ursula had to exercise the utmost skills of restraint she had to stop herself from joining him in whatever lust-drunken state of mind her husband seemed to have developed. She felt a light fluttering in her stomach as she came to realize that 'whatever I desire' was almost certainly referring to her. Well, in a way anyhow. <p>
She briefly wondered for a moment or so as he toyed with the button of her dress, if he intended to violate the carriage with such activities right then and there, but fortunately it seemed he did not. The parlor had been quite adventurous enough for her, a moving carriage that was more or less in public was another matter entirely. <p>
Much to her surprise - and perhaps the smallest fraction of fiendish delight - she was swiftly lead into the house as soon as physically possible after the carriage stopped, managing to ignore the restriction on her breathing and the return of the slight lightheaded sensation. Now that she no requirement to care about propriety or scandal, she could properly devote herself to her husband and his delightfully strange mood. Not taking at all long to separate herself from high society wife to more or less wanton hussy, she intended to take full advantage of the opportunity he had given her. Or rather, Elladora had, not that Ursula knew. Fighting against what seemed like her increasingly tightening corset, she increased her pace so that she could catch up with him and impede his progress by grabbing hold of his shoulder and abruptly pressing her lips against his.
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Phineas responded to Ursula's kiss passionately. He was beyond wondering what had possessed him to react to her in such a way, especially since he still did not fully trust her not to repeat her mistakes. They were in the house now, and the Headmaster's finger worked quickly at the buttons on her bodice. A few of them came off rather than coming properly undone, but Phineas hardly cared at the moment.
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Even as he worked at undressing her, his lips moving first against hers and then on her jaw line and down the curve of her neck, Phineas kept them moving towards the bedroom. If Ursula was lucky, he would get her there before he managed to get her fully undressed.
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Finally he had her bodice completely undone, and Phineas paused on the stairs leading up towards heir chambers to kiss even lower, his lips trailing over his wife's collarbones and down onto the tops of her breasts where they were exposed over her undergarments. It was taking far too long to get her undressed; frustrated, Phineas pulled off his jacket and let it fall on the stairs before pulling out his wand and muttering a quick spell to do away with Ursula's garments. Far more content with the state that left his wife in, Phineas lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist as he hurried towards the bedroom taking the remaining stairs two at a time.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Propriety had just found the window and toppled right out of it. He had never kissed her in such a manner before, at least not to her memory and she was sure that meant something for she would surely remember such passion induced brushes of the lips against her own and more. If only he had displayed such desire before she had made such a foolish error and she could still call herself a loyal wife. Perhaps emotionally she had been loyal but otherwise she had not. <p>
Ursula was convinced the excursion she was about to embark on would top even her short one off dalliance with Cage. She had never loved Cage as she did Phineas, though that was not something she actively considering as a reason, though it would almost certainly make the biggest of differences. She didn't even care when she was exposed in the middle of the house, not even a closed door to shield modestly behind. Modesty also seemed to have followed propriety out the window as she honestly couldn't spare a thought to give a damn.<p>
Now relieved of her exceptionally tight corset, she more than happily complied to coiling herself around him as the knowledge that the bedroom lay a short walk away. Without a moment of hesitation, she did what seemed to come natural by pressing heated kisses hungrily against the warm surface of his neck. Having wrapped her arms around him to secure herself, she removed her left arm in order to disrespect his clothing as he had hers by hooking her fingers into the top of his shirt and quite violently tugging it apart.
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Somehow, the night before, they had made it not only to a bedroom but to a bed. Even more than he wondered how they had made it to the bed they now occupied, Phineas wondered what in Merlin's name had possessed him the night before and driven him to such unseemly passion. Waking naked, tangled with his wife in her bed in her damnably frilly and feminine room was not something that Phineas Nigellus Black had ever planned on doing.
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To make matters worse, his wife -- in a state of undress identical to his own -- had draped herself over him and wrapped around him in her sleep, and there was no way to escape her lair without waking her. As such, Phineas was holding very, very still as he attempted to figure out not only how to disentangle himself from his wife, but also what the hell had happened last night.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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With a deep exhalation, she unconsciously moved closer to Phineas, her head moving to rest in the crook of his neck so that the tip of her nose just about touched his neck. On the verge of waking, she was still far from properly conscious and as such, not quite her normal guarded self. It was then that she seemed to mumble something, the only discernible word being a very slurred 'Phineas'. As if in response to her own incomprehensible mumbles, she bestowed upon him a poorly aimed kiss as she moved herself to kiss him a good half inch away from his mouth, eyes still shut. <p>
With a sudden sigh, she returned her head to it's former position and slowly opened her eyes. As she slowly collected her thoughts and pieced together the events of the night before, she became discreetly aware of how very entangled she happened to be with him and the fact that she had failed to don a nightdress of any description at any point during the night and as such, debated whether to move. On the one hand, if she moved then it would only exaggerate the fact that she had managed to coil herself around him which was somewhat embarrassing and yet remaining still couldn't work for long before he either removed himself from her or she withdrew from him. She decided to wait and see for his reaction. Noting that he was awake, she came to the conclusion that she perhaps ought to say something. "Good morning."
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Every curse that Phineas had ever heard tumbled through his head, although he was too proper to say any of them. Why couldn't Ursula simply withdraw demurely like a normal woman? Not that Phineas had ever been in this situation with another woman -- it was just very clear in his head how this should go. They should both withdraw from each other, Ursula with a maidenly blush on her cheeks, part ways, and not speak of this again.
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Unfortunately, that was not how things were occurring. Ursula was embarrassingly unabashed about waking naked and wrapped around her husband, and indeed seemed to be intent on beginning some sort of conversation. Attempting to subtly unwrap his wife from around him, Phineas gave her a polite stare. "Indeed."

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 25px; background-color: #000000; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">A thousand lies have made me colder</div></div>

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Were Ursula more inclined to spoil the 'moment' or force herself to acknowledge the fact she was stark naked, she might have already recoiled and felt a surge of embarrassment. However, Ursula might want to give the impression she was indifferent as far as matters of the heart went but she wouldn't go so far as to be the one to end what had overall been a pleasantly surprising and certainly unexpected New Years. <p>
Feeling him gingerly trying to separate himself from her, she reluctantly observed that he was no longer in the mood he had been the night before. Being the greedy woman that she was, she couldn't simply let him just leave. Resisting his efforts to subtly escape, she inched ever so slightly closer and slipped the nearest hand into his hair. "Will you not stay?" Whatever it was she had done to allure him the night before, she hoped it hadn't been a one off.
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<br>created by kay of caution and sds</div></div></center>[/dohtml]

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Would he not stay? Certainly not! He should not even be here now. Extracting himself from his wife with somewhat more force than was strictly necessary, he eyed her coldly, wondering why she was not properly embarrassed by this situation.
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Without a word, Phineas gathered up his underthings and trousers and pulled them on. Then he turned, ignoring his wife's unseemly behavior, and hurried out of her bedchamber. This would not happen again.

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Ursula's face fell faster than a Quidditch player from a broom as Phineas quite roughly disengaged himself from her, a rather pitiful expression formed on her features. Evidently he would not be staying. She didn't understand what had changed; the night before he had seemed so anxious to lay with her that she had thought he would have her on the staircase and now... Now it was more or less the complete opposite. Instead of rushing with her towards her bedchambers, he was rushing away from both. It was almost as though he were angry with her, she felt. What had she done wrong? She had obliged him in every aspect, had let him have his way with her (not that she was at all inclined to turn him down at any point) and yet still managed to displease him. <P>
The door shut behind him and she sat with the sheets pulled up around her, a blush of mortification steadily rising in her cheeks as she considered how grossly mistaken she had been to think he might have discovered some tenderness for her, that he might have wished for her again when in fact the only thing he seemed to wish for was his leave.
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