´´Dear Moira! How you have grown, and it is truly lovely to see you!. My My, you are quite the young woman! Have you met our son, James?´´ Lady Cavendish was slightly younger than Lady Kincaid but after all her plastic surgery she looked more like a living doll with an expiration date than a real person.
Her son, James, was Moira´s age but looked like an overgrown baby with all his round softness. He wasn´t what you would call fat, he was simply pudgy and consisted of layers instead of body parts. He was also slightly drunk already and his breath smelled of scotch. James extended his hand to her and out of politeness she had to shake it. Slightly greasy and a little moist...´Disgusting...why did I refuse to wear gloves again?´ Moira thought to herself. She forced a smile ´´James, of course, a pleasure I´m sure´´ she said. To her horror he then took her hand and proceded to kiss it, like in the old days. He probably believed he was the epitome of a gentlemen, but his kiss was as wet as can be and she didn´t even want to imagine having to kiss this giant toddler.
She quickly pulled her hand back and after seeing his disappointed face she flashed a smile at him and batted her eyelashes. James was grinning and was probably