The Model for Propriety

The tale of a stroll

"I dare say that was the most dull thing I could imagine. It was as if they had intentionally dragged together the most tedious little gaggle of people with the soul purpose of boring me to madness!" 

"Oh come now, Henry dear, it was not so utterly dreadful as all that, was it?" the woman offered in response, her little giggle coming in a greatly more dignified manner than that of her companion. As if to try and placate him somewhat, she placed a dainty, gloved hand upon his arm.

"I'd prefer it," came the not at all placated reply, "Emma, my love, if you were to avoid the silly business of addressing me by name at all." This was, as far as the reason he could speak was concerned, a perfectly reasonable request on his end considering he was not, in fact, the good Dr. Henry Jekyll at all, but rather Edward Hyde doing a slightly lousy impression of the doctor in his absence. "I could handle the term love, or darling, or perhaps even dear. Or, perhaps, even deer with two 'e's and a single 'a'. I do think I would look rather smashing with a set of antlers."

Despite the prickly airs that Edward was managing to radiate, there was still an overarching sense of celebration to the night. He might not have cared half enough to bother to learn the name of the gentleman of which he had spent the last few hours celebrating and laying on just think enough praise to be deemed appropriate, nor even what the event being celebrated was, but he played his doomed part well.
Even to the trained eye, he had been practically indistinguishable from Henry Jekyll. A softening of his voice and a raising of the pitch made each word he uttered sound far more pleasant to the ear, a dusting of powders upon his face drew him from the sick-room pallor of Edward Hyde to a mask of life and pleasantries, a ribbon secured his hair back in a way that seemed a deal more dignified for a gentry, and any other tell-tale signs of himself could be easily hidden by tinted glasses - not those of which he had stolen, but rather the more elegant pair Jekyll had acquired in the shape of his own but to suit Hyde's own need - or pair of gloves. Why, one could see no fault to the man in his well-cut suit for he had learned to play his part well, and body memory worked wonders. 
Even his dear Utterson, who did recognise him for who he was and made this fact known to him, found himself more than a little impressed with the fact he had managed to maintain face throughout the evening.

Having offered to escort the good lady Emma Carew in her dazzling emerald dress and elegant dispositions, however, he knew it was safe to free himself from the ill-fitting façade of which Henry always made seem far too easy. He seemed inclined to free himself of his tie, but the gentle hand of his companion dissuaded him of this with a not quite so gentle motion.

"Now, darling," Emma warned pleasantly,  "The night was far too pleasant to risk getting a chill, would you not agree?" 

The ghost of a snarl dared to flicker across his features, curling his lip back just enough to let his teeth flash in the gloomy night. It was this very same expression that had instilled a fear of the devil in those that it was directed towards, and yet it did not invoke this response in the woman, in fact it even prompted her to let out a little stubborn huff. Hyde let his hand begrudgingly fall away from his tie, letting her know she had won.

"Whose bloody party was that anyway?" asked he, his voice landing somewhere right between his own and the false voice he had assumed, "I didn't recognised a single person there, course that lot always tends to blend into one grey blob of tedious pretentiousness."

"Oh?" returned she, "I had thought you knew them? Was it not a crowd of Henry's colleagues?"

"If they are, he's doing a hell of an effort to keep me from remembering the miserable old bastards," he sneered back the way they had come, "Well, whoever the hell they are certainly had a far greater night than they would have otherwise, had we not been in attendance, would you not agree, my dear?"