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Francis Kirke

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About Francis Kirke

  • Rank
    Lord Kingston

Character Information

  • Circles
    Libertine
    Military
    Trade
    Political
  • Title
    Baron
  • INTERESTS
    The sea, foreign places, novelty, the sea, water, swordplay, the baton, battle, ship design, the sea, his yacht, foreign produce, sex, the sea, having a good time..........
  • OCCUPATION
    Gentleman of the Bedchamber

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  1. Francis Kirke

    A Royal Summons, Privy Garden Monday 7 am

    For once, Francis was blissfully unaware of what had transpired barely an hour earlier as he had not been attending at the time. He had risen at his typical pre-dawn naval hour and sparred with Tommy before cleaning up and dressing. Being in the company of the King often enough, the young blond had not gone to any extra embellishments for the summons and wore a mint green and navy blue brocade ensemble with an amply plumed hat, sword at his side. Though he knew what this was about (as preparation for this had been being made in the household for a few days), he arrived with a length of blue ribbon wrapped around his wrist just like the others. "Good morning," he greeted them, ground squishing some under his boots as he walked up, offering the assembly a bow.
  2. Francis Kirke

    EASTER 1678 | Easter Sunday *closing soon*

    Francis & Newton With a cheeky grin, Francis confessed, "I have no desire to e'er be the man inside one of these things. I shall take my chances atop the water." He chuckled a bit, "That does not mean I will not try to make it one day a reality for the benefits of such would be immense. Many designs have seemed far-fetched, but have proved reality eventually, if not far sooner than expected." DaVinci had many such designs and His Majesty had an affinity for things of the like. His closet was full of them. As to the invitation, Francis did not see his offer as particularly generous, for he lived with the Duke; there was no other place for him to invite people. Aside from his mother's, and he was fairly certain no gentleman thought it fashionable to receive guests at his lady mother's. Buckingham was a man of innovation and while his uncle's personal interests likely aligned more with Newton's alchemical research and such reactions, the Duke was no different than the King in enjoying men of science. Having such a guest would not even be odd in that house! The young blond had forgotten a bit of his own wonder over court invitations to the residence of someone important, for the first time he had been in Buckingham's presence, he had been in complete awe and that was in some tiny apartment at Windsor! Who was he kidding? There was still quite a bit of awe! "If I wish your aid, I think all shall have to be revealed," Francis said with a nod of affirmation.
  3. "Indeed," Francis replied. "And it occupied my thoughts all day without even knowing what was in it...now..." Well, now he had even more thoughts. If this was something more, things could get somewhat uncomfortable for him. No matter how one sliced and diced the religious merits and legalities, this was not the normal fashion of any kind of inheritance within the nobility. Posthumous parentage was quite common, but said parents were generally quite clearly married before the death. Nor did any of this generally come out some thirty years later. Even the truth would be scandalous, even if it was correct and right within the church and law. His blue eyes looked over his mother. And his mother still would have committed a monumental indiscretion that the entire court would know...Not only that, but considering it involved Buckingham, it would likely be talked about at more than just their court too. He heaved a sigh, not wanting to start thinking down those roads. He had an entire night of reveling to get through! With Buckingham and the King. Which was his very good luck. He would feel quite strange the entire time, for while he had no desire to talk about it; he would not be able to keep it from his mind. "Yes, I always attend Saturday into Sunday, because it is a day one oft ends up standing for hours at state events looking pretty where all of court can see...or not spending much time dancing at dances...and well in the evening. It is not the most desirable duty to then follow it up with having to be presentable enough and awake enough to accompany the King to chapel in the morning and make sure he does not snore whilst he naps," Francis said to his mother, who he could speak frankly to about such little details, just as he would to Buckingham. "I think Arlington has me permanently inked in there." He shrugged. He did not mind in the least. Francis had come to terms with his most useful aspects as a Gentleman of the Bedchamber...They were not political!!! He finished his drink and stood, leaning down to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. With a lopsided smile, he added in a whisper to her ear, "Make sure when you sleep, you do not leave that in the room where my uncle's snoopy servants can lay eye, because I am quite sure that they do." He chuckled. It was expected for them to do so, really, but he wished to avoid a servant accidentally providing the duke with such news or suspicion before he could do so himself! Francis placed another kiss on her forehead before straightening. "I do not think the Duke will be back tonight, but I certainly shan't be. I will see you tomorrow." With that, he took his leave, giving his mother the freedom to read her letter with as many tears or smiles as she might.
  4. Francis Kirke

    Desperatis hic in Vinarium | Saturday after 10pm

    (OOC - A Defiance sidenote - Anne-E please let the King answer your question before you put your question to unsuspecting Francis, you'll have time I am sure CR might have something hilarious to reply but it won't be his turn for a bit yet!) The group had gotten themselves significantly further into their cups than he certainly had from the jovial sounds wafting up. He paused to take a long gulp from his flask to hasten his catching up. Then he put on his ready for fun face, not wanting to clue any in to his mood of the last while. He walked down. "A hundred pounds! I'Faith, friends, what sort of contest is about to take place!" he gestured to the cleared table and tableau in front of him.
  5. Francis blinked. "I had no thoughts to. I do not think I can be blamed for claiming a few days for such news to myself." After all, the two had planned much of his life whilst he had sat there listening on rather dumbfounded in Brighton, or so it had felt, and he at least wished to feel more composed of himself. And he knew they were going to be piss drunk that night, so there was certainly going to be no attempt to say anything within the next few days, let alone before the following night. "I do not wish to be made a spectacle at dinner," he confessed, nodding. Unlike Buckingham, who enjoyed being both spectacular and a spectacle, Francis had the gentler disposition like his father. He could hold his own in the limelight when thrust there, but he did not crave that same stage. "But nor do I think the Duke wishes reminders of such emotional things before he must preside over a family event," he added. Buckingham might be a mercurial man, driven much by feelings in a number of things, but what he was not was a man who enjoyed displaying raw emotion but in private. Buckingham enjoyed curating his image far too much for that. What he might share with Francis, was certainly not for wider audience; and the reverse was true was well. He and the duke shared that it had been kept from them both. For nearly three decades. "What would I do without your excellent advise? Surely, I must do better at taking it more often." Francis chuckled. "After all His Majesty grounded me to land as your very adroit request, and gave you the title in your own name in a way which spared your honor, so I should think it would not be too much to make a delicate request on your behalf." (OOC - Francis is supposed to be getting back to attend the King at some point which is why they said he was expected in the wine cellar thread, so we can wrap this up when you're ready. 😄 )
  6. Francis Kirke

    EASTER 1678 | Easter Sunday *closing soon*

    Francis chuckled at the accusation. "Oh, let us hope not entirely," he replied. "Let us hope most courtiers are not thinking of how to travel underwater!" he reined his chuckles in for the venue, putting a pretty hand to his face. "His Majesty would lose far too many in the attempt." It was something of a fashion for many noble families to send sons to university, but there were yet a startling few that were amazingly dunderheaded for their advantages. And many courtier were poorer than their appearances let on and could not put out for tutors of great ability for their children. Then again, His Majesty did attract a great many innovative and scientific minds, so there were a number of exceedingly able people within their court circles, like his friend Newton. It was more diverting to poke a bit of fun at the idiots. They were far more concerned about fabrics than keeping out endless amounts of water and large amount of pressure from underwater vessels and stories of DaVinci. "I would enjoy it immensely. Should you like to come by the Duke's one evening with it? I can then show you the actual model of His Majesty's if I have failed to already."
  7. Francis wondered if his mother had ever known that the Christening plate was not simply something of his father's parents, for he had the story from His Majesty and the Duke first hand. In fact, they had given him a brief moment of abject terror that he was someone else's child altogether, because the first thing the King had said was that it was a Christening plate his father had commissioned for someone special. Since it had been given to his mother, he had thought that had been the recipient until Buckingham clarified that it was for his own younger brother (I'faith, thank God!). "Then there is something more special of it that I must tell you, my dear mother," Francis said, with a soft smile. "You are right that it was a filial gift, but not from his father and mother, but from the Martyred King, who was the 'father' who Christened him and thus provided the plate." His grandfather, the first duke, had been months dead before his father was born, an irony of his own posthumous birth. "It is the most expensive thing I personally own that is not land or a ship, and provided the credit for me to start a life, so I should think it was the perfect keepsake. Jewels can be given to any, but one does not give such an important thing to someone for whom one's intentions are undecided." He nodded and grinned some, handing over the letter, "As we well know, now, for certain." As to when to tell Buckingham and also the King, for the two were such that it might be safer to tell the two together than have there be issues over which was told first! Francis was well-aware of the subcurrent of sibling rivalry that went on between the two elder men. "Is it inappropriate to say in quiet private that you know how they are together, sometimes, Mama...it might be my safest action to subvert jealousies to tell them together...and it is that they found out the first bit together and decided the second bit together and gave me a future together..." He was, of course, thinking much out loud, for he had not really thought hard enough about it to fully realize that - since the truth had outed - the pair had decided his life between them. It gave him a moment of pause where his blond brows furrowed. "I think," he paused and licked his lips, "Continuing forward that way would be the way he would have wanted it done." The he, of course, being his father. Francis did not wish to say that the anniversary of his father's murder was yet some many months away, but it was. He could not think of any other occasion with such a mood naturally. In many way, Francis was not the most adept courtier. He had been raised to be a gentleman, surely, but his mother knew far, far more about such things. Charles I's court, even though she had been quite young through much of it, had even more rules than Charles II's! "Do you think me of sufficient stature to simply ask to speak to them both together...without even giving a reason why?" He raised a brow at her. He felt quite secure about asking to talk to either separately, for a good chunk of the portion of being a Gentleman of the Bedchamber was in having such access and ability with the King, and he had relied on asking Buckingham any number of things as equally as ridiculous as the one he was now asking his mother. There was simply something about asking to talk to them together that somehow might be offensive in insinuating the King wait on the presence of the Duke. Then again, the King did not really seem to care much about any of that at all in private, and when alone seemed to find much of it annoying, so he was likely making far more of a simple thing than really needed to be.
  8. Francis Kirke

    EASTER 1678 | Easter Sunday *closing soon*

    Francis jolted out of his thoughts and looked upon the shorter figure of his friend, Newton. "Then I am pleased to be found," Francis replied. "And that any of my meager musings have a place amongst your great thoughts and innovations!" In truth, Francis was not wholly sure to which project Newton was referring, for Francis had quite a few endeavors which he had consulted with his mathematically superior friend. Probably in a way so inferior to Newton's capabilities that he feared it of the level of a schoolboy asking for his maths to be checked by the schoolmaster, but that was neither here nor there.
  9. Francis Kirke

    EASTER 1678 | Easter Sunday *closing soon*

    Sprat's sermon had been rather enjoyable, but Francis' mind was dwelling on other things. His body was slightly less cooperative over lack of sleep approaching its third decade, and the last few days had been rather sleepless. And had involved quite a bit of drink. He felt a bit worn even if it did not show, but it was likely because he was not particularly looking forward to the progression of the next few days. Buckingham quietly announced that he hoped his servant had a nice, hot carafe of caffe corretto waiting in the carriage for him, and Francis chuckled and nodded his agreement, being rather unusually quiet. The King and Queen were speaking with other courtiers not far away, and Francis eyed the queue of people leaving. Even if Buckingham's imposing presence (and precedence) could likely part the waters like Moses, it looked like a daunting task to get passed all those courtiers without having to talk to anyone! A tiny voice of his own youth supplied the immature option of hiding behind said relation like he was twelve and a pretty, mute statue.
  10. His arms closed around his mother's much smaller form as her tears fell, and he wondered how many times in his life his world could be utterly altered through no doings of his own. The lightheadedness did not leave, for Francis was swimming in emotions he could not rightly identify. The funny thing was that he had never thought his life had been particularly difficult. In fact, quite the contrary, he had spent most of his life feeling blessed and lucky for his personal circumstances. It was odd that now, when any could argue his circumstances had changed for the better times a thousand, and were far less dangerous, that he felt unlucky in his life. It was a whir and blast of contradicting emotions that kept more relief and happiness from washing over him in the way it likely would for his mother. It was not the first time he had felt such. He had felt it on his yacht that day. And at Brighton. But that did not change that he felt happy for his mother and happy that those that had cared for his father had actually known his father that well and had not just been being gracious for his, Francis the youngers, own sake. "And he gave you his plate. The one you gave me this scar with," Francis replied, with a soft chuckle, fingering the faded scar at the top of his cheek where his mother had whacked him when he had left university (with George and Will) to ask his grandfather's permission to go to war at sea. She had been most vehemently opposed to losing him, clearly. He still bore the mark of her affections! He had also been christened with said christening plate, but he felt the moment needed a little bit of levity. "I do not know how to tell the Duke of it...and His Majesty would surely wish to know...so I must...and soon." He sighed. "This is a very strange topic for me." It was not in his particular nature to be entitled of things the way those born noble might, nor was it in his particular nature to be self-absorbed. Even raising the topic of his parentage simply seemed presumptuous to him. But another part of him felt that he was the only voice for his father in the scenario, and the man surely deserved a legacy far more than a false one for the wastrel Charles Kirke; nobody could deny that! "I...yet find it somewhat difficult...to talk to either in that more personal sort of way."
  11. Francis tried to breathe as his thoughts whirred nonsensically. Somewhere in there his mind noted similar things between pieces of Heather's situation as His Majesty and the Duke had explained to him. Without knowing about the letter and Heather's son or Buckingham's part in it, he might not have made the potential connections. To be honest, it was his stomach that realized the potential significance first, for words in his mind were yet to be pulled together. "It is good, Mama," he assured her, heart thumping in his ears louder than the words coming out of his mouth. "I just...need a small moment. This is...this is more..." The son in him could hardly say it was more than just a love letter. In faith, I feel a little dizzy, as foolish as that is! He mustered up his breath, swallowed and continued, still speaking slowly as before but now pausing at spots where it was, in truth, difficult to read aloud. There was something about speaking the man's words aloud which made him feel them mirrored inside himself in a way he could never explain. "...But know that there is nothing that could make me happier in this world than for you to have my child ..........and for us to be married. Your hair still rests pinned inside my shirt...next to my heart. While I rue that I have not yet had a chance to reveal all our plans to our families before, to gain their blessing, I will talk to George when we can steal a rare quiet moment. His permission will have to do, for gaining His Majesty’s remains impossible*, but the fight is going well my love. Cheer your spirits, for it shall not be long and we will be together again. You shall not have a care in the world, other than to continue loving me. Just as I shall eternally love you." It was signed and such, but he laboured himself through the reading long enough. Being the child spoken about, now nearly thirty years old, in the letter that he read aloud of a father who had not even lived to 2/3rds of his own age...was very burdensome in its own way. He felt as if he had just survived a squall at sea, and stared at the wax that had sealed the letter, digesting it all while rubbing a finger over it for something to do. His father had not lived very long after writing the letter or it would have been sent. Happiness and hope had turned to a heinous death very quickly. The King spoken of had been imprisoned and inaccessible for a long time before the letter had been penned and had been so for some long time afterward before being murdered on Buckingham's birthday, the very day he came of age. That was the sort of life they had lived, and it was difficult for Francis to fully fathom the feeling and emotion of it.
  12. Francis Kirke

    EASTER 1678 | Good Friday Service *closing*

    Francis & Sophia "I shall be sure to borrow one of the Duke's mares then," Francis replied. A ride was not very enjoyable if he was fighting his horse the entire time. "Thursday should suit fine. Let us meet in the park since we are going to ride. It shall save any formalities, of which, I admit, I could use a small bit of a reprieve." He felt more elder brother than former guardian, but that was pretty much the role he had been asked to play by her father, so perhaps it had all worked out as it should. Soon after they said their farewells, kissing her hand if she offered it. (OOC - sorry, I thought I answered about the ride eons ago)
  13. Francis & Dorothea parting Francis was far from as studious as the young lady in matters of God, but he was at least a deserving Chancellor of Cambridge who quite enjoyed books...just those on other topics! Unlike the lady, Francis noticed quickly that she used his Christian name. Since being gifted his title, he had grown rather accustomed to far fewer people using it and so it became a little more notable to hear it these days. It was not simply that, though; that particular styling was actually as his father had been called as the younger son of a duke and it was very noticeable for that. And because such was not a proper styling for him, even if people knew who his father was, he noted the intimacy of saying it right away. There was a long moment as he watched her exit the room where he was quite chuffed that she would wish to use his Christian name, but there was another piece of him (perhaps in an arm or something) where he noted that inspiring such sentiment in a lady so highly ranked was perhaps ill-bred of him. A little furrow crossed his brow as he contemplated this, for he was realizing that he was rather fond of the lady too. It did not change that she was ranked so highly above him that he should take care. If he was not a gentleman of the King and a relation of a duke, he likely would not even be an acceptable acquaintance for such a lady!
  14. "Yes, of course. It is yours, after all," Francis replied, finally producing it for her. Francis did not realize what his mother thought when she exclaimed that the duke would not dare, for if she was thinking what he was thinking which was falsifying documents to prove a thing they all knew to be true already, well, that Buckingham would certainly do. Of that, Francis was fairly certain. But to fake such a letter for a lark, Buckingham most definitely would not, and thus Francis had not contemplated his lady mother might be thinking that. Quite plainly, Buckingham held too many deep feelings about the issue, Francis knew; the Duke would not find such a thing funny. God be Praised, for Buckingham held few things truly sacred. "No, he would not, and surely not rope his sister into it in the bargain," Francis replied, instead of saying his true feelings of what he thought they were talking about! She declared it his father's hand, but Francis would not have the least idea if it was or not. He had already surmised that there were few left at court old enough to remember his father and probably only a handful who had known him well enough to identify his hand outside of their family. If more people remembered Buckingham's younger brother, more people would have noted his resemblance and speculated the truth. Then she dropped quite the duty on him, asking him to read her his father's...final love letter. He forgot to breathe for a moment. His hand took the letter automatically. His mind was forced to reframe it as his father's final words, at least that they would know. No son was meant to verbalize his dead father's love letter to his mother. The testament to his devotion and sacrifice to his mother was that he simply said, "Yes, of course, pat her hand and then opened it. He took a deep breath and simply looked at it. He had yet to open it, to read it himself. Though he did not say it aloud, the writing was quite similar to both the Duke and the Duchess. He could separate it from the Duke's quite easily, for he saw his uncle's writing constantly. Buckingham's script had aged with the practice of both a writer and statesman, and his father had died when all he had probably penned was music and letters. Clearing his throat, he read slowly with his similar tenor, separating out the lines slowly as he read them, though they were penned quickly and all one block of sentiment. "My Dearest, You cannot imagine the joy that your news gave me. I am so pleased that it was 'telling me' that won out, though I understand why you had wondered if it was poor timing with me away with George fighting. Forgive me for not being there to calm your worries myself, but know-----." And here Francis just stopped, eyes having gotten a few lines ahead of his mouth, realizing that this was not simply a love letter, nor just something that said he was a wanted son or that his mother was the love all believed she was... His heart pounded so fast and heavily that his throat suddenly felt narrow. This could be very much more than all of that and he suddenly could not move his tongue properly and just looked from the letter to his mother rather stupidly. (OOC 1 - The writing of the note is a collaboration between Hope & I, and all of this note business and plot was previously approved and not new. Francis was FrancisV's kid on his character sheet OOC 2 - Poor Bess, I'm a mean writer to have him screech to a stop while reading, but he would have so he did.)
  15. If Francis was honest, he was not entirely sure there was such a specific college, but then again his interests had never been with the clergy whilst he was there. "Whilst divinity would surely be good for such thing from one perspective, there are also professorships in moral philosophy which may be fitting more broadly, and they would have students looking for patrons I am sure. If you wish uncharted territory, there might be more thinking outside the box there than with those focused on more spiritual interpretations. That is simply my thought," Francis replied. "But I shall find you some candidates from both to speak with if you wish." He rather liked his earring as well, for it surely was not a fashion statement. It had been far more popular during his grandfather's time. Such things were rather out of fashion now, but Francis cared little about such things. Buckingham teased him about it but in the end had been more concerned that it at least be expensive - for if one was going to use an old fashion, one had to do it ridiculously well and that oft meant grandiose. If he started his own fashion with large dangling, manly gems, then he would be quite pleased of it, admittedly. "It is like my drop of the sea carried along with me," he replied, appreciating the poetics of that imagery. But the evening was rolling to an end. He had his own obligations that evening. Little did he know how revealing and altering they would be! He would kiss the ladys hand if offered and said, "I know you shall have a pleasant evening then." His accompanying grin was a bit cheeky; she loved Compton assigned readings!
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