Visiting Rohan [24th, late morn, open]- Xmas 1677

[Heather O`Roarke]

Nobility staying at Saint Marks Hall at Whitehall might keep their horses at the Royal stables during their stay. It is a large building on the border of Saint James park where it nears Charing Cross, next to the Knightsbridge Barracks - a convenient and short walk from the Palace proper.

 

To the east end of the building is the Stable master's office, Mr Tyndale a man in his 50's, man who takes vanity in two things: the efficiency of his service to the King, and his still vigorous dark crop of hair.

 

Within, it's industry fluctuates, where sometimes a veritable hive of business, upon other times it appears near deserted - yet always present is the tickly dry fragrance of hay and that warm and sweet equestrian smell. Here enough stabling was provided for the horses of the officers and troopers of the regiments, as well as horses in training and those of any visiting dignitaries and nobles that needed special care. The well covered buildings were also used to provide shelter for coaches, wagons, and the draft animals that pulled them.

 

The Countess was not dressed for riding, her royal blue day frock almost frivolous, yet she could not resist going into the Mews. Giving a wink to the standing guards she slipped towards the box that held her most precious possession of late.

 

"Sush" she whispered and reached out to caress one white flared nostril, then held out her treat on a stretched hand. With a snort the horse Rohan picked up what was his due. He was as impossibly arrogant as his sire, the redhead mused, as she continued to carress his neck with considerable pleasure. Unlike Princeton, who had gained in age all too rapidly, this young stallion still had the energy of young bucks. He was almost too dangerous to ride, but Heather had a strong control of her mounts and would not allow any temper in her mounts. She laughed, a sound like silver bells spreading through the Mews, as Rohan tried to steal more treats from her pockets as he nozzled her.

 

"Leave off you rascal, you are no gentleman."

[Hope]

Laughter, and then such words -- who would not peek to what was going on?

 

So it was a head of brown curls peeked around the corner of stalls; eyes curious, and then brightening to share the laughter. "My but he is impatient, like all men he wants everything right now!" she stepped into full view smiling.

 

Frances had just returned from her morning ride in the covered arena, her grandfather had lived and breathed horses, and had instilled his passion for them into Frances also. "Has he Princeton's legs?"

[Heather O`Roarke]

".. and like all men, he will not hear no," Heather couldn't help the rejoinder with a little private smirk,

 

"You have an excellent eye for horseflesh," she remarked, patting Rohan's neck and giving him an extra apple before turning around to see the brownhaired girl. A certain familiarity tugged at the redhead's memory but she couldn't quite place her. As the girl looked quite proper in her trim riding habit it was unlikely they moved in the same circles.

 

"Princeton is indeed his sire. I recently bought Rohan from the estate where he grew up as I wanted a mount just like him, majestic and arrogant," the Countess explained. It had been one of the first times that her first husband had set Princeton to breeding. Though she had used the racing champion frequently for riding, that was what Princeton was now.. a breeding stud after he retired his racing days due to the serious injury he received in New Market. " Turns out he is a bit of a rascal."

 

"Heather, Countess O'Roarke, but I suspect you already knew that," she introduced herself with a friendly nod, wondering if it would scare off the girl "You look like you've just come from a pleasant ride yourself."

[Hope]

Frances shared a giggle, fresh from exercise, her mood was buoyant. It was a happiness to share ladilike laughter, even though theirs were very different circles. Heather was rather, notorious, Frances still remembered the shock that rippled through the family when Heather had won at the races. Not a bet, but actually won the race!

 

Moving closer, the urge to stroke the horse was strong... though the temperament of the horse had her wait till he showed an interest in her. She did not want to set him to rearing up on them. "I was sure was either a son, or a brother. I could see a relationship to be certain, great bloodlines run true. Hmm... and perhaps it is the dash of scallywag that sets the finest apart?" she stopped upon that thought.

 

"Frances Cavendish." she gave her name. While Heather's was not the company she'd seek out in a ballroom, here in the stables was an entirely different arena. Here, Frances felt at ease, without any need to try impress gentleman onlookers. "Yes I have been riding upon mornings in the dressage arena, oh I know, hardly the place for a robust ride, but invigorating none the less."

[Heather O`Roarke]

Heather's smile widened. This girl either had a very good idea of double etendre or was unaware. Either was delightful. "We women certainly prefer that in our mounts," she agreed blithely.

 

"Cavendish, aah," the redhead breathed, a look of respect settling on her "A family love for horses then, most excellent." A memory struck her, of her cousin, loving a Duke before her husband had returned and that dreadful incident. Yet, Heather remembered the delicate fondness that Darelene had expressed of a man in his later age. Out of respect she spoke of none of this.

 

The lady chuckled upon Frances words "Well, you'll not get any robust riding outside now anyway. The snow forbids it. When I came riding in from Chelsea this morning it wasn't just my bodyguard that forced me to go very slow indeed." One did not endanger horseflesh by letting them run over terrain that held invisble traps. Even if she had been so foolish to risk her mount, James would have had her hide for risking herself. York was protective and deliciously bossy.

 

Heather sighed, exclaiming wistfully "I do love Christmas, honestly, but I'll be ever so glad when spring arrives and we can once again go roaming the countrside, eh?" She gave Frances a look of understanding, expecting to have found a kindred spirit at least where it concerned horses.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis had not been out for a ride, per se; no, he was simply arriving to the palace. It was to the point where it was not comfortable to walk, and he hated taking a carriage for such a short distance, whether Buckingham had an abundance or not.

 

Instead he had thrown on a riding cloak over silver and baby blue justacorps of brocade. Any who knew him well could probably guess the Duke and his tailors probably had more to do with the beauty of the attire than Francis' own tastes.

 

As he left Aithon with one of the stable boys, he thought he heard a familiar voice.

 

Is that......?

 

He came around the corner to see what he could recognize as the back of Heather and the front of a younger lady. She was the daughter of someone important, that he recognized. Newcastle or Ormonde perhaps?

 

Hoping the girl who could see him would play along, he held a finger up to his lips and crept slowly closer to the pair.

[Hope]

"It certainly makes it more interesting," Frances smiled of that, any double etendre of her own words or Heathers going right over her head.

 

She had to admit that Heather's tone of voice, when uttering the Cavendish name, was satisfying - though she was too well polished to let her pleasure of the respect show. "It it were at all possible, I think my family would have babe's riding even before they were christened!" she laughed. Heather of so many headlines did not seem half as wild as rumor would have one believe. "But still, ours is not the only family with a passion for things Equine. Shall you be racing this Stallion next spring?"

 

The news of the roads between here and Chelsea was a good warning to have, although she herself had not intended to go to Chelsea, she might be able to use this news to some advantage later in the day. "Truly? Then I expect a good many Chelsea residents shall take rooms at Inns this season, it would be terrible to be stuck in a snowdrift and miss out on the Opera, or Christmas Banquet, or Ball." she thought out aloud.

 

As the Heather spoke wistfully of riding in spring green fields, Frances noticed somebody beyond her shoulder, a handsome gentleman, creeping playfully towards Heather, his finger held in instruction for her to keep hush. Ah. The moment was ending. Witness to Heather's popularity, Frances gave the faintest nod to Francis (trying to repress a spark of jealousy that handsome gentlemen never crept up on her). Pulling her attention back to what Heather was saying, she agreed, "Yes, such freedom..." her eyes flitted back to the creeping man.

[Heather O`Roarke]

"Well I might at that," Heather nodded, the idea growing on her. York wouldn't hold her back if she was not pregnant and she did enjoy a good race. It did also helped that some thought it scandalous. She did like to tweak the nose of some of the proper sort.

 

She gave Frances a mischievious grin "Will you come watch if I do put into New Market? We horse fanatics must support each other you know. I promise not to be very outrageous."

 

Heather laughed as the girl summed up all the events of the season blithely, as if it was the whole reason of her existence to go to insipid Banquettes or Balls. Oh, there was so much more out there. "Oh, heaven forbid we miss the Opera. Or the plays, deary me, I wouldn't want to miss the King's men."

 

Something was distracing Frances, but Heather remained oblivious.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis smiled widely at his spontaneous co-conspirator, giving her a wink. He looked young enough for such pranks, not having quite escaped looking just of age.

 

The silver of the brocade he wore, coupled with his blond hair and light blue eyes, Francis seemed rather fitted for the glistening of snow and the intermittent sunshine of the day. Not that he noticed, although he did like the silver.

 

Coming up behind Heather he said in his light tenor, "Oh, but the King's Gentlemen have missed you! Or at least this one has..."

[Hope]

"Yes I would like to see that for myself." she agreed. She though it likely easy enough to arrange, Henry attended the races with Christopher already, she would ask them to let her come too! "Why ought the gentlemen have ll the fun." she whispered the latter, the words being rather out of character for the reserved lady. Perhaps she wanted to impress Heather? Perhaps she wished that she could pit her horse riding skill against men too? (surely not!)

 

"Yes that would be terrible." oblivious to the sarcasm, Francis really was living for the balls, dinner parties and shows - she was acutely aware of having been looked over by Robert St Leger, and ached to hear her own banns read at Church services. She had all her dresses picked out already for the seasons parties, and hoped the great showing of opulence would attract suitors.

 

It was on cue of 'the Kings Gentlemen', that the handsome man then revealed himself to Heather. He is a Kings Gentlman too? Frances adjusted her habit, and gave her best smile... surely an introduction would follow.

[Heather O`Roarke]

Heather gasped in surprise at that familiar voice. "Francis!," she exclaimed familiarly and swirled around to spontanously throw her arms around his neck, pressing close "Oh but it has been an age. Does the King even let you out of his sight these days?" There was a merry kiss before the Countess remembered propriety.. somewhat.

 

Detaching herself from the handsome cavalier she threw Frances a glance with a wide smile "Lady Frances, may I make know to you Francis Kirke, Baron Kingston?" Frances meet Francis, now that was amusing. Green eyes twinkled with mischief. "Lord Kingston and I are old friends, forgive my enthusiasm."

 

"We were discussing New Market. Say you will join us, Lord Kingston, at the spring races. I have a new rascal to show off."

[Francis Kirke]

Francis returned the embrace, giving her a squeeze and closing his eyes momentarily, a happy friend no doubt.

 

One hand returned to the hilt of his sword and the other behind his back momentarily as the young lady was introduced.

 

"My pleasure, Lady Frances," he greeted with a light smile before bowing. He would press her hand with his lips too if she let him. He did not wish her to feel left out of the happy greetings!

 

"As to New Market, well, I cannot suppose one would pass without His Majesty, and it seems whenever the desire to go on a progression strikes my master, I am a chosen accomplice, being without many ties, myself."

 

He did not have a wife, children, and multiple estates and offices to tend to, after all. He had learned that during this last recess.

 

"Just as long as I do not have to race. One time looking up at His Grace, my cousin, from the flat of my back was more than enough!" he chuckled warmly.

[Hope]

It was an effusive greeting, of the 'long lost reunion' variety. Frances eyes flared a little at the public display, though, really they were not so much in public here really. Their joy. Their happiness.

 

And then she was included in it, via an introduction, cheerfully given by Lady O'Roarke, generous and glowing of her as she did so. Frances might have thanked her! But that would have to wait for another time.

 

With a curtsy she dipped, loosing a pleased giggle, and he kissed her hand, "Old friendships are the most joyful sort." Old Friends, did that mean? thru a look she relays an unspoken question to Heather.

 

But it was Frances own announcement that rung most strongly to her mind. "Your feet do look fancy free." she replied to the gent, wishing herself to have the audacity to meet his eyes as she said it. But to do that might practically announce that she was poised with a golden rope, ready to hogtie the next straggling bachelor.

 

"He is very fine." Frances turned to pet Heather's mount as the horse was mentioned then. With the gentleman's presence she became over-analytical of every word she uttered, and suddenly wondered if he words could b construed to be one of these infamous double entendres everyone talked about?! Her cheeks flushed.

 

"That sounds like the beginning of a story Lord Kingston, ah, but have you heard the tale already Lady O'Roarke?"

[Heather O`Roarke]

Heather's green eyes remained mischievous, a glint in them. Would Frances guess she was an old, even a current lover of the Baron? How much would she be daring to assume. Whatever, It would not change Heather's behaviour.

 

"Yes, do come to New Market. All I need for you is to cheer."

 

"Tell us Kingston, I have heard it before, I can enjoy it again," Heather laughed.

[Francis Kirke]

"Do they?" Francis asked, eyeing his boots. "But you must tell me the secret to such darling clairvoyance!" His eyes crinkled with some mirth. Hopefully, she could take some pleasant and inclusive teasing.

 

"I assure you, though, not so on the dance floor, either." He lamented his own dancing ability with a smile too.

 

As to his expertise with horse racing, he just chuckled and shook his head. My how this was turning into a catalog of his mediocrities!

 

"After Windsor last, His Grace and I raced out yachts back to London, and I won, so our next contest was a horse race." Francis shrugged some. He did not mind horses or riding, but he spent more time on a ship, not riding. That was changing some now, but he did not have the strongest seat for racing. "Neither myself, nor my horse, have the proper ingredients to win a horse race against the Duke of Buckingham. Aithon was not pleased with me, and he threw me, knocked the wind right out of me, and I just remember looking up." He blinked for dramatic effect, as if he was looking up.

[Hope]

The only answer was a playful glint of eyes - which between ladies said it all. Frances eyes flared in reply. But did that truly matter? Genteel expectations were for a woman to remain chaste, there had never been (not that she knew of anyhow!) on the checklist for marital candidates.

 

"Clairvoyance?" discovering herself amidst a sally of words from the man of wit, she floundered a little between the artful pair before replying, "I can assure you I've not consulted with any spirit mediums on the subject, though I am sure you are all the rave of the netherworld." Oh dear, that seemed to come out entirely wrong! She'd tried to impress both the gentleman and the lady by a mood of laissez-faire, but likely had offended both. One for an attempt to poach attention, and the other for accidentally assigning him as topic for a chorus of gossips in the afterlife.

 

Now wonder I am still unmarried! she inwardly rued, grateful now as Heather encouraged the gentleman to the telling of his tale, even though the tale was a revelation that the gent could not keep his seat. "Oh dear. Perhaps you need lessons." she expressed sincere concern, looking to her fellow equestrian, who she was sure would be in agreement.

[Heather O`Roarke]

Heather laughed heartily at the retelling of that particular tale. It was one of Francis most endearing qualities that he was never afraid to recount his failings. It wasn't precisely modesty. It was as if he did not take himself seriously at all. "You have a prideful horse!"

 

Rave of the Netherworld. Heather laughed again, truly amused. Oh, she'd rib Francis for that later. What a moniker. It was then that Frances presented an interesting opportunity, and for one moment the redhead was almost suspicious the girl was aware of the double etendre in riding. She nearly chocked, but recovered quickly.

 

"Oh!" exclaimed Heather, mischief edging her on "Why, lady Frances, what a splendid idea. Yes, we should both be teaching Lord Kingston to improve his riding, so during his next wager with His Grace he might at least reach the finishline, and who knows, beat him too. Wouldn't that be a splendid addition to New Market, your reputation restored? Or you might race me instead, we wouldn't want to upset the Duke's considerable pride with a public loss."

 

She arched an eyebrow at Frances "What say you, my lady,. could Kingston be taught to beat me during the race?"

[Francis Kirke]

"Perhaps that is it! Prideful!" Francis crowed. "I shall give him to you to temper!" he teased, tittering and putting a hand over his lips.

 

He turned to the younger, more proper, lady and did not exclude her. "I would allow you the honor, Lady Frances, were it not that his grace, your father, would probably murder me." He was not wholly serious, clearly, but it was not something a man suggested a proper young lady should do.

 

"Oh, I am not quite that bad anymore. That was when I was only a few fortnights off the sea. I promise, I have spent much time in the saddle," Francis said, his tongue ripe with double-entendre. "As to pride, just as you say, I should be careful of it. Plus, I would not deign to beat my cousin even if I could. In any contest. It is not very grateful. In this case, I simply find there little chance I could out-perform the Duke. I am sure you both would be quite the enjoyable tutors, though."

 

With horses, the Duke would always win until he was not fit enough, and then it was not fit to continue competition. With riding, well, in his tenure, Francis bet Buckingham had bed a lot more women, especially at court and ladies of quality. Thus, there was some truth in the joking manner of it all.

 

As it was, he looked toward Lady Frances to see how she would answer Heather.

[Hope]

Frances laughed along with this pair - a prideful horse did sound so funny when it was said like that. She was all smiles, somewhat relieved that their cheer was at such a high level, they were not even bothered of her own artless attempt. This was very different company to the proper set, where a wrong word would bring down reproving looks - and they took such delight in discussing horse riding sport - these were good people.

 

"But Papa could not mind, surely, it is the sensible choice. Results sometimes take a while however, and some qualities are simply bred in too deep." She was not certain that pridefulness, in a horse, could truly be trained out of a beast. After a moments pause she suggested, "It might be best to work with the trait than against?"

 

But she was being a bit too serious now, she could see. Their jubilation of reunion, called for light of heart and laughter. Francis on his part impressed upon the Ladies, or was that really Heather, that he was not such a novice really. But never the less, Heather asked her if she thought they could train him.

 

Frances looked across at the handsome Gentleman-to-the-King. Would her father object to an association, really? He seemed so nice, clear of eyes, and without intrigue.

 

"Perhaps it can be done... if the gentleman is willing?" her eyes darted away from him then, nervous that she might see the opposite in him at that moment. "But it would be fun to try, and if there is to be an informal race, I would love to enter it too."

[Heather O`Roarke]

It was almost impossible not to laugh, and so Heather did, though she didn't indicate what occassioned the amusement. Perhaps it was just good cheer. This whole conversation was just too much. Obviously the lady didn't know a thing about the meaning of words, how they had all but suggested teaching Francis to make out with two women, yet she might find out all too soon. Heather considered it one of the benefits of interacting with the libertine circle.. to be liberated.

 

"Lady Frances," the Countess purred "It sounds like you are just the kind of woman to tame the beast."

 

Heather turned to Francis "Oh, surely, the gentleman is willing?" She arched an eyebrow, high enough to be a challenge. She clapped "Yes, yes, a three way race, that sounds exiting." She gave lady Frances an obvious wink, a secret agreement. Oh yes, they would best Lord Kingston.

[Francis Kirke]

"Because gentlemen do not ask the pretty, maiden daughters of the highest gentlemen of the kingdom if it might be permissable for her to mend his prideful horse," Francis replied, with a lopsided smile.

 

He might be a libertine, but he did not feel the same degree of indulgent rope as the rest; his surname was still Kirke was Kirke was not a surname which would allow him to play games with noblewomen without a thought of consequences.

 

Instead, as Buckingham had been instructing, he was playing a game of appearing every little bit worthy of his status and more. If anything more might be possible with his future, he needed all of the support toward it which he could get. He did not need to cultivate people who would say his behaviour was indicative of poor breeding or a lack of gentlemanly status.

 

"Oh willing has little to do with it." He gave her his own wink and look.

 

One day, perhaps Heather would understand why her carefree former baronet who was formerly a sailor behaved rather properly in his public life, even for as indulgent as he could be privately.

 

"Perhaps in the spring the countess might sponsor a race and His Grace your father shall let you participate. Then I shall happily race too." Then he added, teasingly, "If His Grace, my cousin, gives me his permission. We, all of us, answer to someone, no?"

 

Even looking slyly to Heather, he knew she answered to York more than to any other man who she had been with. Francis gave up all his autonomy to the King and to his uncle. Living under the roof of a male family patriarch once more surely changed many dynamics of his own life!

[Hope]

Frances beamed with pleasure with the bad news. Whatever else Francis had said, he'd also called her pretty. She shot Heather a look wondering if she minded, but the red head was simply laughing full of good cheer.

 

And then Francis went on to say he was willing, but it was Heather's utterance that excited Frances. Tame him. Ah, but that was artful double speak, it was code to say that she thought Frances might be the lady to make him settle down. Yes, Heather was talking Marriage, Frances just knew.

 

"Well I shall ask him straight away." she said to the pair, there being a strange surrealism to the moment. She felt a little light-headed in fact, what was happening? Was Lord Kingston complicit, and intending to ask Lord Buckingham's permission to... Court me, next spring? The young lady clasped her hands before her, hoping that she presented an appealing picture, and that her hair was not too messed from riding. But how did the Countess factor in this - what did he mean by needing Heather to sponsor the race? Was it about York, Francis mentioned everyone needing permission from somebody, and with a look at Lady O'Roarke.

 

"You do not think your Duke will object do you?" She asked Heather. Frances had never thought York would have any say over her potential marriage - when she talked to her Father late, she might leave that part out.

[Heather O`Roarke]

"I do not need anybody's permission," Heather lied blatantly. James expected her to obey, for she was under his protection and what she did reflected upon him, in a quite perilious situation to boot. James didn't mind her libertine antics, but he would not allow her to do anything dangerous, to herself or the household. He had impressed that upon her quite clearly early in their relationship. Yet she bristled at the suggestion she was no longer her own woman, even if that protection was something she strove quite hard to attain.

 

"However, I choose to display some discretion," the redhead declared with a little huff, bristling there was even this necessity "So perhaps we can just keep it between us. You could meet here early in the morning, before the rest of Court rises. All proper like. Just a bit of horse riding. Lady Frances won't be alone with me in attendance. There is nothing remotely untoward in us meeting to ride horses. Then this spring, I am sure none of our dukes will mind one bit if we let the reigns loose a little, mmm? It will seem all so natural. Newmarket is a joyful place. "

[Francis Kirke]

"Let nobody speak ill of your many skills and talents in my presence, my dear, but of all those skills chaperon is not one of them!" Francis laughed liberally. "I doubt His Grace would consider a libertine escort a proper escort, but it was a nice effort!"

 

He gave her a lopsided smile and said, "My reputation is not just my own anymore, and even were it..." She, at least, knew that the Kirke name did not travel with the best word of mouth. He did not need any of the prince-like gentlemen of the Kingdom complaining about Francis and their daughters.

 

"I doubt His Majesty wishes to hear stodgy Arlington complain of my conduct and neither do I!" It was unsaid that Newcastle complaining would be even worse. Francis did not know how well Buckingham got on with the current Newcastle, but he knew that the late Newcastle had raised his uncle, father, and the princes; that was not something to tread on lightly, especially if he might later wish or need support from other Lords over his secret situation. One did not tarnish connections one already had, especially when Francis did not even think he had even been introduced to the man.

 

His future could not afford him acting like Rochester, Libertine or not!

 

"I shan't encourage Lady Frances to sneak." He gave her a soft smile.

[Hope]

She'd been foolish to think it, deep down in her heart she'd known it all along, she'd just felt so encouraged by Lady O'Roarkes efforts. It was even as though Heather knew how desperatly she wanted her own match, after being passed over by Beverly, her ego needed it. It had been like Heather was a gentle co conspirator, even a fun co conspirator... a plan for meeting Francis was being formed right before her eyes.

 

There would be rides, there would be looking forward to racing, there would be a celebration surely, afterwards. Her future seemed brightened by these people!

 

But then he spoke. Of all those sensible things, of all the proper-ness, of the reality. Frances breath caught, though not in a good way, at least not to her. Perhaps the Lord of Kingston was relieved though, so easily he got off the hook. "Yes, I suppose Father will not allow it." it was true, she'd have had to fib, she'd have had to say she was taking a host of ladies maids to act as chaperon, even if her father thought he was an acceptable match at all. Everyone knew Kingston ran in free circles. Lofty. But free none the less.

 

Frances eyes dropped to the straw strewn floor, she ought not to, but self pity descended. Likely she'd never marry at this rate. She just wanted to cry.

 

"I, appreciate your wisdom Lord Kingston." she threw a look to Heather, gave her a small smile, "It was a lovely idea." and with a little sniff she tired to adjust herself, get herself back together, "ah, but I have intruded on your happy reunion long enough. I must carry on." She managed a better smile, the opposite of how she was actually feeling, dipped a curtsy to both and made ready to leave.

[Heather O`Roarke]

The disappointment of the girl was clear. Heather rolled her eyes behind the back of Frances. Surely a way could have been found. She wasn't asking her friend to take the chit's viriginity on the spot. Flirtation perhaps, yes, and some honest fun, which could at least have boosted the girls confidence. Really, this was the merry court. She didn't see neither Buckingham nor the King objecting too much if propriety was served in some way.

 

Clearly though, Francis was not game, and that took the fun right out of it. Spoilsport. Frances looked so lonely that it clenched her heart a little.

 

"Oh, you have not intruded at all. Your grandfather, my lady, did a great kindness to my cousin and I would extend that hand of friendship as well to his kin. Perhaps, some morning, we'll ride and talk of our shared equine love some more?" Heather called to her retreating back.

[Francis Kirke]

He raised a brow at Heather's look and tilted his head some. She knew of his problems with his name; that did not all go away with a title; if anything he had more of a need to make sure the association continued to dissipate, not grow. Women were sometimes difficult.

 

"Actually, it was I who intruded, Lady Frances, and surely do not wish you to hurry off," the new lord said.

 

"I was on my way to the Presence Chamber as it was, so I shall take my leave of you both, unless one of you is going that way, in which case, I am obligated, quite happily, to escort you."

[Hope]

Heather, who continued to grow in Frances estimation, spoke kindly, while the gentlman asserted she need not leave at all.

 

She was aware at that moment that he was upset about it too. Perhaps he wished his position did not make the demands on him that it did... but she had no time to speculate at that moment, no doubt she'd do that plenty over the coming hours.

 

For now the Cavendish girl paused uncertain, impossibly looking to Heather for help, a choice at least.

[Heather O`Roarke]

Heather gave a pretty pout to Francis when he looked at her so inquiringly. Odd's Fish... not the puppy look.. at least he did the gentlemanly thing and offered escort. The Countess hesitated.. all the possibilities running in her mind.

 

"Surely," the redhead gushed helpfully, grasping at a straw "You are going there just this minute, lady Frances? I shall walk with you part of the way, for I need to return to my coach. Another friend is expecting me, but I would not so willingly depart of your company."

 

Determined Heather linked an arm with Frances and then waited for Francis to offer an elbow to them both.

 

OOC: apologies for the delay!

[Francis Kirke]

Francis smiled broadly and nodded, thankful to have mended the situation somewhat. He was very gentle with ladies by nature, libertine or not; he had seen too much of them being mistreated in his life.

 

He offered his arm to Lady Frances, linked with Heather already.

 

"Are you both going to Master Cole's performance tonight for His Majesty? I daresay it shall be quite the novel thing, as Master Cole and Greyson's first opera, and the first we have held in London as well, I believe."