The Christmas Ball (25/12 Evening)- Xmas 1677

[Francis Kirke]

Francis and Frances

 

"Oh, I had not noticed," Frances lied when it came to forgetting about sitting on his leg. "Yes, perhaps a more private moment then." In a playful mood, as was often the case, she wondered how else she might gain some gossip this evening. It was the perfect opportunity and event.

 

Francis seemed equally playful, though it was difficult to coax gems from his lips. It was possible that he knew nothing interesting, but Le Belle Stuart did not credit that scenario. It was more likely that he was being too discreet for her liking. I shall just need to work that out of him.

 

Changing the subject, she adopted a more collected air. "Have you met any new interesting persons at court this season? I do hope that we have some interesting new faces." The debutantes all seemed the same to Frances, year after year. So few were witty. Instead, they were well-trained. The gentlemen tended to be much more varied. "There are some new Germans at court," she began cryptically, her fan coming to life in her hand.

 

"The season has barely begun! I fear I am not that savvy a court creature to know all the debuts in merely a few days." He chuckled. Lowering his voice, he added, "I'm lucky I know all the personages of importance."

 

He did not realize she was trying to coax information out of him, but he truly felt he had little to deliver.

 

"New Germans? Well, I confess, I not long ago emptied my hands of one, but what have you heard?"

 

Francis realized that she had spent much of the recent dances speaking with him and it seemed they neared the final dance. He felt enough guilt that he was conflicted over offering to dance. The last dance of the evening was a significant one after all. He doubted a lady like her wished to miss it.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Catherine Sedley approaching Charles and Nicolette

 

Catherine appeared promptly, defeating the possibility of a dance with Nicolette in that moment. Charles hoped that Nicolette would betray any special interest in him, while in the presence of Catherine. Yet, the French beauty was a playful one and seemed to indicate, in front of Catherine, that she intended to compete for his company. Had he heard that right? That did not seem like a very good idea to him. If he was to compete for a lady's attention, he imagined, he would not alert the competition.

 

All the young earkl could do is muster an awkward smile for a moment. "It was a grand pleasure Mademoiselle," he declared as she bid adieu. "She is the Lady of Misrule," Charles volunteered to Catherine as he led her to the dance floor, as if that would explain the special interest. "She seems nice." Did that sound distant enough? Charles hoped so.

 

"Did you find York?" he asked, happy to change the subject.

[Caroline Despanay]

Caroline and John Sit This One Out

 

Her arrival seemed to please him as did her crack about alcoholic consumption. Caroline always liked to see the young man smile, he deserved to be happy.

 

"You have vices? I somehow have difficulty believing that," she commented as he gulped down some of his drink. It did not seem this was his first drink, in her expert judgment, "Good to know though, I will especially remember that at my party."

 

Now Caroline had been drinking quite a bit too but this is where the petite young woman surprised most people in her ability to retain self control despite heavy consumption or times even remain conscious in particularly extended bouts. Still, it wasn't like it didn't have any effect, no she was feeling warm and in a happy carefree mood.

 

He offered his arm then and she latched onto it while he came up with a pair of rather risqué suggestions for how they might entertain some mischief. However Caroline doubted he was truly serious about either.

 

"Nicci already banned cake so I do not think she would approve of pie so that is out. As for speeding up the dance, I do not wish to spoil all these people's fun just for our own silly amusement. Also...His Royal Majesty will be dancing and it would less than wise on our part to upset him, would it not?" she pointed out.

 

"We could simply take a walk outside, mayhaps the frosty air will dispel some of our alcoholic haze? But only if you agree," she had a suggestion of her own.

[Louis Killington]

Louis and Bridget

 

Bridget vowed that she would be the best student ever and do everything he told her to without question or complaint.

 

Excellent. "We shall begin at once, do not worry."

 

“And while we are strolling around the room, will you make those introductions you promised?”

 

"Indeed," he replied, but it was already time for the dance to begin. "Let us go have a grand dance first shall we?" With that he led her to the dance area with the flood of other couples.

 

 

OOC~ I'll post to the dance thread later.

[Guest]

John and Caroline

 

“Oh yes,” John said of his vices, “Sometimes I t-t-take an extra cookie from the jar. And... when it's t-t-terribly boring, I let my mind wander in church.” John said cheerfully. He was feeling… not irreverent exactly, but blasé. He couldn’t resist a puff and a smile as Caroline promised her party would seek to probe further into this idea that John had moral flaws.

 

John laughed at her reply. It was good judgment, though John thought them rather modest as far as pranks went. Still, she was correct he wasn’t being entirely serious and might have lost his nerve. So he did not object as she pointed out the flaws in his schemes.

 

Instead she wanted to go outside, “As you p-p-please,” John said with an indulgent smile. He began to walk towards the gardens.

 

OOC: Which I think means we go into a side thread, if you want to start it.

[Aria]

Charles and Catherine

 

It took considerable effort not to glare at the impertinent Frenchwoman. Who did she think she was, to just swan in and state her intention to lure Charles away from her? Either she was very naïve or very stupid. Catherine managed a smug smile. “Playing games with other people's emotions only leads to hatred in the end.” Her voice so sweet that one might expect sugar to drip from her lips. “You speak as if Lord Langdon has no feelings of his own.”

 

Catherine watched Nicolette as she walked over to the group surrounding the King. If she can catch a bigger fish. she thought, she will leave Charles alone. And if she didn't? Catherine would take a page out of Lady O'Roarke's book and turn any gentleman she fancied against her. She might be pretty, but Catherine was witty and clever.

 

“The Lady of Misrule,” she repeated. “She's not going to be very popular if she goes around trying to steal all the gentlemen away.” Now the Frenchwoman was obviously set on the King, judging from the way she was gazing at him. It was sickening, really. Hopefully, His Majesty would see her for what she was.

 

“Nice?” Catherine raised one dark eyebrow. “Diseased is more like it. Watch out for that woman. She is obviously loose with her favors and probably has the pox. Look how quickly she's forgotten you in favor of the King. If you fall into her trap, she'll use you and then cast you aside as easily as she discards a piece of jewelry she has grown tired of.”

 

Her attention returned to Charles when he asked about York and she shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven't been looking for him. He wasn't with Lady O'Roarke when you spoke to her, so I was unable to pull him aside and tell him about Caroline. So I've been ignoring him, showing him that I can live without him. I've danced every dance, I've shared refreshments and laughs with many handsome gentlemen, and I've been kissed under the mistletoe more times than I can count. I'm sure he has noticed. Seeing how popular I am may renew his interest in me.”

 

She glanced over to the dance area. “We should go before there aren't any places left. Did you have any luck convincing Lady O'Roarke to meet with me?”

[Davina Wellsley]

The King, Davina, Buckingham, & Boys

 

There was general laughter and her smile included all the Gentleman as the King made his delivery and Buckingham was quick to respond. Her own reply was lost for it was at that moment another joined.

 

It seemed like she was yet again to be among the ones being singled out by the Lady of Misrule for she swooped in like a vulture her gaze to Buckingham then back upon the King where she then placed a hand 'Oh So Dramatically' upon her breast' drawing any eye naturally.

 

Her blue eyes crinkled a bit at the corners and laughter filled them as she stood watching another attempt by the French girl to place herself in the center of it all. She guessed that the Gentlemen might see this as part of her "Reign" amd so not understand the truth and it even further amused her that Nicolette thought any of this would prove fruitful.

 

"And here She appears once again - I am beggining to think Your Majesty that I have been singled out - and so wonder if I needs must be weary or amused? Which, I wonder, might it be?"

 

Her words carried some lightness as her gaze then went to Nicolette a small smile playing about her lips.

 

'if you wish to 'play' then you had better do it stronger for I am no weakling and neither are any of these Gentlemen'

 

Would be the warning held in them if the other girl was smart enough to understand.

 

"I fear that I must make apologies 'Madam' as the dance is soon to commence and His Grace has kindly agreed to take the next place after His Majesty .... I shall surrender You then back unto these Gentleman!"

 

Davina then offered a very nice reverance to her King eyes a twinkling as one hand lightly rested upon the tops of her own assests before she stood to place it on the arm of the Duke.

 

"I hope, Your Grace, that they did not suffer too much?" She was refering to Herbert and Company. "For then I shall feel tis mine own fault ...."

 

Her words would drift back to them as they moved away.

 

She knew they had all been drinking and the Duke was going to either use his words in a witty manner or be the opposite.

 

"It would seem Your Grace that Mademosille seeks a repeat performance I shall be happy to be used again ...."

 

She gave a small chuckle her eyes meeting his without any hesitation.

[Blackguard]

Francis and Frances

 

"New Germans? Well, I confess, I not long ago emptied my hands of one, but what have you heard?"

 

"Well," Frances began in a voice that was both secretive and adjusted to reflect that what was to follow was gossip. She glanced both directions as if the accent the point.

 

"There is a German girl that is the niece of the dowager Queen of Sweden. What I have been able to gather is that she was pledged to the current King of Sweden. So, what is she doing here sans chaperone and without a Swedish escort? It has scandal written all over it Francis." It was rare for her to use his first name, or maybe he would think she was speaking to herself. Yet, they knew each other well enough to speak to each other informally when whispering.

 

"The Queen has a new lady that arrived from some state in Germany. It might be the Palatinate. I suppose it is to be expected. Have you met her? Her English is good." Richmond was still in the process of assessing the girl to see if she was as mousey as she seemed.

 

"Also, I overheard that the Emperor is sending an envoy. I think he is from Bohemia if I heard correctly. That is a German state is it not?"

 

She looked quite proud of herself to have gather such gossip so quickly. Perhaps it took her mind off the dancing.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles and Catherine

 

It was not going well between Catherine and Nicolette. Catherine used the word hatred. That seemed a bit much for a bit of sparring.

 

"She is not trying to steal all the gentlemen," Charles uttered in the French lady's defense. "Obviously it is some game associated with her misrule. She is just teasing." Charles was sincere in that belief largely because men like him were naive about the petty rivalries ladies shared. Also, he barely knew the French beauty and she seemed far more interested in other gentlemen. Still, the invitation to visit her in her coach would be etched in his mind for the next few days.

 

"Diseased?" That caused him to worry, but only for a moment. She is just saying that. "Of course she is more interested in the King," he agreed. "I doubt she will even remember teasing us when she wakes tomorrow. She probably has teased a dozen men and ladies tonight. She is French. That is what they do." Of course, he still planned to rendezvous with the French beauty.

 

"And when you recapture York's interest, will you forget about me?" he teased. "I would worry but I know how madly you are in love with me. See how protective you get from one French tease?" That seemed to be a good way to try and earn a point in their ongoing game and get her to forget Nicolette at the same time.

 

"I saw O'Roarke before the first dance but we were joined by another before I could question her. She has disappeared since and I have not seen her." Perhaps the redhead and her prince sneaked away together.

 

"Yes, let's go dance and then let us sneak away ourselves so that you can make good on all the dreams of me that have been forming tonight while you have been dancing and kissing others. They were but appetizers for the main course you are famished for."

 

OOC~ Heading to the dance floor.

[Raconteur]

A Merry Group of Friends

 

They were all known to the other as most were positioned in various Households from Monarch to Duke and this night had provided a most unusual diversion - Women asking Gentlemen to dance - and they had taken advantage of it!

 

Mistress Jennings was seated within her usual grouping of fellow Ladies to the Duchess of York her face pink-tinged and eyes bright with amusement and wine exchanging a banter of conversation but always with an eye to the room in general. She had danced three times and was now ready to be made comfortable.

 

She had the oddest of feelings - the kind one gets when being watched - but that was not unusual for there were many that looked in her direction. She gave a shake of her head and a shrug of one elegantly clad shoulder dismissing the feeling as nothing but nevertheless she set aside her glass thinking that she had consumed enough.

[Charles Audley]

Charles approaching Sarah Jennings et al

 

Ah. There she is.

 

Charles took a moment to appreciate just what a pretty picture she made, pink and merry in the light of the ballroom. Not as overtly stunning as Juliana or Lady Toledo nor as sensual as Lady O'Roarke, perhaps, but Sarah had a self-contained elegance that reminded him of a Damascene scimitar.

 

I'd rephrase that compliment slightly before using it on her, were I you.

 

Charles realised that he was staring and clucked his tongue in self-directed annoyance before making his approach. The backdrop of friends was perhaps not ideal, but was at least preferable to a male companion that would have to be brushed off.

 

"Please forgive the intrusion ladies," he said brightly as he gave the assembled parade his second-best bow (his best would have been unfair). "Charles Audley, Earl of Chatham, at your service."

 

He smiled at Sarah as he straightened.

 

"Loathe as I am to interrupt your merriment, I fear I must. I am once more in dire need of your counsel Mistress."

[Aria]

Charles and Catherine

 

Why was he defending the Frenchwoman? Was he already under her spell? That challenge had sounded real enough, not like teasing but more a blatant implication that she planned to lure Charles away. At least he looked worried when she mentioned that the woman probably had the pox. She was French so she obviously slept around. Like Charles had said, that was what the French did.

 

“I think the Mistress or Master of Misrule should have been English. She's going to ruin the entire season if she flirts with every man in sight. If she abuses her privileges, maybe they will be taken from her and given to someone who is more deserving.” Catherine, for example. She had really wanted to find that ring.

 

She was so angry that it was difficult to concentrate on their game, but trying to come up with a witty retort did take her mind off of Nicolette. Maybe the King would take a liking to her. That would keep her away from Charles. “I'm trying to protect myself,” she told him. “If you sleep with her, you might get the pox and give it to me. Of course, it would be funny to see the expression on her face when you call out my name in the height of passion. No matter who you dally with, I know it's me you really want.”

 

continued in dance thread ...

[Raconteur]

Charles approaching Sarah Jennings et al

 

The gaggle of Waiting Maids to the Duchess of York that sat about Sarah had all been there to witness that fencing match and the arrival of one of the combantants set them all a twitter with sly smiles from the two boldest and another quick to whisper in Sarah's ear.

 

The Gentlemen drew up a bit straighter eyes assessing the intruder but holding back curious to see what was afoot. Some looked to Sarah then to the Gentleman now identified as the Earl of Chatham exchanging whispered words of their own.

 

For her part Sarah gave a gentle 'pinch' that quieted the one closeset to her and then directed her gaze up to the Earl. How strange that his arrival had matched her private thoughts - watching all those about - the wolves and jackals among the Court out, circling, manners dulled by drink, no statesmanship and certanily no wives to keep them from the pretty Maids.

 

She felt Pride to be amongst them and knew that they all thrived on that notice yet disgrace could come swift and deadly if one were not careful.

 

"Indeed My Lord you are most welcome'd by all here."

 

A general acceptance phrase none could fault nor deny.

 

At his words she frowned a bit then offered him another soft smile yet he would clearly be able to see the questions in her eyes. There was something planned she was sure for she did not think this man acted on impulse.

 

"Well I can hardly refuse such a request ... I shall be most happy to aid you ..."

 

Standing she gave a gentle quick shake to her skirts added a smile that took in the Company then went to stand by his side.

 

"How may I be of help?"

[Charles Audley]

Charles and Sarah

 

Charles straightened from his bow, noting the stir he had caused with no small satisfaction. The whispering, the smiling, the tittering and especially the masculine posturing- Charles was proudly juvenile enough to glory in all of them.

 

Alongside that was the quieter satisfaction of observing that cool elegance he had admired earlier in motion, along with a flicker of that swift discernment that had so impressed him on their first meeting. It was enough to make him regret his ulterior motives.

 

Charles answered Sarah's smile with one of his own, accompanied by a fluid gesture that suggested it was no large matter.

 

"Oh, nothing too onerous, I promise." He lowered his voice and glanced past her to her companions. "I do hope that I have not imposed, or put you in an... awkward position."

 

Voice raising again, he continued.

 

"As the result of a series of unlikely circumstances, I have been charged by his Majesty with preparing a list of suitable candidates to adopt the latest litter of spaniel pups. I was told that 'only the finest ladies' were to be considered but, alas, my knowledge of court is lacking and thus I find myself in need of a guide to help me avoid any potential pitfalls. I should be greatly in your debt if you would agree to... educate me, for want of a better word."

[Guest]

Edmund was very aware that he was late. Very, very aware. His first social occasion in the capital too! He continually flexed and clenched his hands from flats to fists in continued nervous tension. He had been in the capital for several days now but had yet to make his first, official ‘debut.’ In honesty, he had needed those initial few days simply to take his bearings. Until now, the largest urban centre he had known was Newcastle and that was a village compared to this sprawling metropolis. So many people! So many sights, smells, attractions, dangers…so much of everything. It set his nerves fully on edge. A man as…particular…as him in certain respects it was an utter nightmare – one couldn’t seem to cross a street without picking up some element of dirt. His long-suffering valet was already showing signs of stress, having already been forced to attend to his master’s wardrobe’s cleanliness on several occasions.

 

The time had come to make an appearance in society. He had heard it spoken on the streets of that night’s event, which was also written in the news-sheets. Fortune favoured the bold, did it not? No better occasion than this to ‘get stuck in’, especially at an occasion where almost all of the bon-ton would be there. From his lodgings he had hired a hackney carriage to the site of the Ball, regretting his decision almost instantly as the carriage driver took a circuitous route, ostensibly to ‘avoid traffic’ (so the driver claimed) but which seemingly serendipitously also resulted in a larger fare when he finally alighted.

 

Pausing a second to collect himself, he checked his attire and, to an observer, he must have appeared as though he was putting out some invisible fire on his person, so frantically was he brushing himself and patting himself down, removing miniscule amounts of dirt. For the occasion he had chosen the ‘best’ of his current wardrobe (that which had fit in the two trunks he had brought with him from Torrington-Kirby – it was on his ‘to-do’ list to expand the size of the collection with items more in vogue, the tailors of Newcastle he was sure were at least a good 5 years behind style). Over a light linen shirt with laced sleeves (sewn by his mother) he had opted for a dark green suit, with crimson cuffs and facings, paired with a matching crimson waistcoat and sash. After an afternoon of agonising over the decision, he had decided that it was hopefully just a la mode enough to avoid mockery. Another reminder to update his wardrobe post haste.

 

Taking a deep breath, he ran run hand through his brown hair, ensuring it was falling appropriately about his shoulders (not adopting the fashion for a wig) and joined the queue of those waiting to be announced. As the queue slowly wound its way in, Edmund edged closer and closer to the source of light and laughter ahead and felt progressively more nervous as he did so. This was a world away from the North, how on Earth was he going to fit in here? The urge took him to beat a retreat but the press of people behind him was too much and rendered flight impossible. Necessity took on the garb of bravery and resolve in his mind. Finally it was his turn to be announced and, after a pause which was perhaps longer than normal, he gave his name to the herald.

 

”Sir Edmund Torrington of Torrington-Kirby!”

 

This was something of an anti-climax. Again, Edmund did not know what he had been expecting? Everyone to look up inquisitively? For a great pall of silence to fall? Obviously not! Still, at the same time, it almost seemed upsetting that the herald’s announcement just drifting off as background noise amidst the hubbub of the room. For a moment he didn’t move until he felt a gentle pressure at his back and, like someone lost, he proceeded forwards, swallowed amidst the crowds and desperately sought a drink – always a good start!

[George Hardwick III]

Fashionably late: Chichester meets Torrington

 

Further footsteps upon the marble, metal tips upon patent leather boots.

 

"Lord Chichester"

 

Edmund was not the only late arrival who pressed the boundaries of being 'fashionably so'. The dark haired Earl arrived upon his heels, and in the spirit of this unlikely affinity of late-a-tude - gave a smile to Torrington.

 

"How do you do." George's accent was english enough, though his skin suspiciously bronzed (and his attire reeked of European tailoring). "Looks like we made it... just in time." In a friendly fashion George gave the fellow a wink. "George Hardwick, Earl of Chichester... but my friends call me Chicky - at your service."

 

Meeted and greeted the Earl, with a spur of the moment inclusion of his nickname from abroad.

[Guest]

Torrington and Chichester

 

Edmund had been clutching a wine glass with a slight tremble, knocking back the contents with a bit too much gusto – Dutch courage, he had had the term referred to. Everything was so…dazzling. Jewels, silks, paintings, chandeliers, he could spend all night just listing the myriad glamorous things. That wouldn’t even include the glamorous people! So many fine looking women! All of it added up to make him feel not only nervous but decidedly out of his depth.

 

Therefore, it was from this almost self-indulgently woe-is-me reverie that Edmund was shocked back to reality by the approach of a tanned, elaborately dressed young man. He held himself with the dignity and ease of manner that marked the man out immediately as a veteran mariner of this social sea. A man of resources, of social standing and quality. The foreign cut of his clothes and the tanning of his skin would, without the benefit of having heard his voice, likely have made Edmund consider him a continental of some sort. An Ambassador perhaps? A Spaniard or Italian Count? Yet the voice was decidedly and most assuredly English. Southern too. Refined.

 

He had introduced himself as the Earl of Chichester – but immediately followed it up with the colloquialism of “Chicky”. Was this a test? His first meeting in London and it was a peer of the realm! The press of people around the pair inhibited him from performing the style of elaborate ‘courtly’ bow his tutors had long ago drummed into him as part of the traditional litany of social graces gentry and nobility were expected to learn. Instead the best he could manage was a half bow and, in the moment, forgot that the hand he swept out to his right still contained his wine glass, some of the contents of which now sloshed onto the floor.

 

“An honour, your lordship,” he said, in his thick Northern brogue, “Sir Edmund Torrington, at your service, sir”

 

He desperately racked his brain to try and come up with something witty and engaging to say. His mother, so he had been told by those of the family’s servants who were inclined to gossip, had been famous in her youth for her the same, amongst other things.

 

“Why to me mind I haven’t got a nickname – not one people say to my face, any like! One like your own must have a meaning, my lord, and must be to your liking to if you’re happy to use it!”

[George Hardwick III]

Torrington and Chichester

 

With a seemingly easy grace George took up a drink from passing tray; pinky ring clinked against the glass, ruby shone in candelabra-light.

 

It had not always been so. Not that he'd been any sort of gauche or clutz physically, he was ever well refined. But his love life had been a comedy of errors that had resulted at one point in the man being incarcerated in The Tower. In a very nice apartment mind, and sparing no luxury, but incarcerated none the less!

 

Yet it was a far cry from that woebegone individual that now stood sipping a glass of wine before Edmund, a man who stood with comfort within his skin as he cast eyes around the 'london scene'.

 

"Damnably good to speak easy english again." he uttered an aside, and gave a nod to the newly met fellow. Edmund did not take up the implied offer of use of nickname, not so surprising really, still George liked how he felt to offer it.

 

"Well met." he assessed, noting an awkwardness to the man. Yes, it made perfect sense that Torrington defaulted upon the side of caution. New to these waters, plainly. Rashness might have an ingenue quickly find himself out of depth.

 

"There is of course an advantage to claiming a nickname of your own invention, likely kinder upon ones ego than those others might choose for us." he gave a huff of humor. "My own has little enough meaning other than an abbreviation of my title, easier for the Italians to get their tongues around." said in dead pan. "Yet there is a certain informality to possession of a nickname, whether of ones on innovation or not, and I am of a mind, upon my err illustrious return," pause a ironic wink "towards raking in the coals and puffing breath upon them."

 

His lips bunched a moment at his own candidness, then with a snort he gave a lopsided grin, "And yourself Torrington, do tell me the adventure that waylaid your arrival tonight? You seem too honest for this to be a 'dramatic statement of nonchalance'."

[Defiance]

Buckingham & Davina | Nicci & CR

 

Nicci progresses to Illustrious Stragglers King&Co.

 

And what a calibre of stragglers she saw -- as the common area emptied with the migration to the dancefloor, the frenchling discovered Davina, His Majesty, Buckingham and additional company of opulent looking gentlmen.

 

Nicci's eyes flashed, wondering what her rival was up to now?!

 

Saucy steps swiftly delivered her to the mixed company, approaching the grouping behind Davina's back, just in time to overhear the woman's (feeble?) sally.

 

...

 

Eyebrow raising (for of course Nicolette believed herself able to do rather better) she looked to Buckingham sweetly before setting an adoring gaze upon Charles Rex, letting her breath catch; a hand touched to bossom.

 

Really, could it be any more perfect? With Davina finally out of the way with Buckingham, Nicolette might fully woo the King!

 

 

 

Buckingham was happily readily to depart with the lady, but it seemed she wished to pull out her claws. What he thought about that, he kept to himself.

 

"One of the few privileges of the status of elder is in tormenting ones younger relations, Mistress Wellesley," the duke replied.

 

"In this case, though, the royal presence is far superior to ours." His eyes scrunched with mirth. "Unlike His Majesty, I cannot cajole an active influence on either marriage." With Buckingham, one rarely knew whether or not to take him seriously. He was equally likely to speak in jests or drama as he was to speak in reality.

 

"You could have rescued one of them, but you did not? Perhaps you are a cruel lady," he postulated as he led the way to the dance floor.

 

 

 

 

Trust Buckingham to usher one lady off so that another might squeeze in. That was one of the benefits of George; he always knew how to reduce Charles' anxieties, and it was more than just mimicry and jokes.

 

Turning to Nicolette, the King said, "Is our Lady of Misrule here to solicit a Gentleman of Mischief? Ho, but do you execute your office quite to the point, poaching my servants!" He leaned in more for dramatic effect and added, "But you are witty enough to know that my household is prime accompaniment for Misrule, mademoiselle, so I salute you. Have your pick of them. Some are quite handsome and enterprising." Little did he know how much she knew about that already.

 

His dark eyes cast about momentarily for the Queen. Though if he did not catch a glimpse of her, he might claim that he could not be at fault for not sharing the final dance with her. He had not seen her dance all evening, and perhaps that was best for the child. Charles Rex might be gallant, but he was also versed in explaining away his lapses innocuously as well.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis and Frances

 

"Betrothed to a King and off gallivanting about England of all places?" Francis snorted, it did have scandal written all over it. He took no notice of her use of his first name. He was fairly certain their tongues were intimate enough for that after he woke up with her taste on his lips at Brighton. By all means he had probably told her to call him Francis then, and he had been plain Sir Francis when they had met, so technically his first name was no strange thing to hear.

 

"I have not heard of any new ladies, but perhaps unofficial?" He had been of the impression that foreigners could not be in households, an impediment for his own (previous) German ward. Lady Mountjoy was now English, and he did not know any other Germans. "Either way, none of my acquaintance."

 

His look was thoughtful. "What is her name? If her English is good, I might not otherwise know, I suppose."

 

As to Bohemia, he made a hmm noise for a moment. "If not, they are right next door," he replied, with a smile. "And next door to Poland as well. Bohemia was the hotspot of the Thirty Years war. It was that which set His Highness the Duke of Cumberland here as a youth."

 

That was about as much as he knew, but knowledge of wars was expected enough for a man like Francis, whose grandfather campaigned with Cumberland.

[Guest]

Torrington and Chichester

 

The contrast between the two men – one the grizzled veteran and the scene and the other the green, new recruit was almost comically marked. Yet wine is always a friend to those in need of a little resolve and Edmund could feel a warmth seeping from his guts through to his veins which, slow but surely, seemed to make him feel a little more at ease. He knocked back the remainder and instantly sought out a replacement.

 

“Why, my lord, I doubt it would be an adventure worthy of someone back from Italian travels! I lost a great part of my time in having to knock some sense into my valet who is a devilishly slothful rogue as ever came from Tyneside! He’s all caught up in the bright lights of the city,” he said (blithely unaware of the hypocrisy of the statement) “and has taken to the sort of drolling that I see his like in the servantry of London do! Pipe smoking and drinking and backchat like he thinks he’s an actor! Back in Torrington-Kirby my Mam would have given him or any of his ilk a fine thrashing for such insolence but I’m made of more pliant stuff it seems!”

 

He realised he was having something of a rant, produced from nerves and wine, it proved a little more unstoppable than he’d hoped.

 

“I like things done a certain way, as the rogue well knows, and tonight of all nights when he knows this if my first outing in the London scene, he takes to half-baking his jobs in favour of raising pots of ale in the taproom with his new found cronies and playing at cards! Had to belabour the man for his sloth, only to fall to scuffling in front of them all. Most unseemly,” he said, with a sigh, realising that the vignette was unlikely to have covered him in much glory in his interlocutor’s eyes. Perhaps time to liven the tone a bit.

 

“To compound it all I think I moved from one knave to another! I took a hackney carriage from my lodgings but the driver convinced me that the traffic was such that it would be quicker if we took a ‘short cut’ of his. I might be new to the city but I know when I’m being made a monkey of! I swear we drove up and down the same streets several times and all that he did was extend my journey immensely until I could take it no more, called him to a halt, only to find we were hard by the venue here! But back of the queue for me! And out of pocket for it too! So, my lord, not the greatest of adventures, only misfortune which must make me seem the rustic!”

 

“Now, you must trade my sad anecdotes for one of ye own! You said you have been to Italy – am I right in guessing you’re back from there now? What took you off to there, might I ask, and what brings ye back now?”

[George Hardwick III]

Torrington and Chichester

 

Eyes that scanned, saw nothing of Lucas, the violinist who had been the Earls splinter under thumbnail. Though there was Sophia, the sweet little thing who made friendships rather recklessly, to his advantage as it had been, but reckless none the less. He bookmarked himself to approach after the dance...

 

Yet for now, the tale was a colourful affair, diverting from the illustrious assembly of personages around about - while delivered in an utterly unsophisticated manner. George fought down surprise in stages. Whipping ones own servant? They really did need to make-do in the provinces, surely there was someone they could hire for such a task!

 

"At the risk of being judge and jury, I can only recommend that this man of yours be sent back to Torrington-kirby - no doubt your mother can make use of the exercise and... he's plainly ill suited for life in the city. For what it is." Imagine the chap in Florence, he'd be resident of the gutter before night fall. "I've an excellent Agency, who can see you installed with a good man. Mrs Arnold, on 26 Friday Street. Would you like me to write it down?"

 

Torrington seemed a little excitable, and might forget.

 

Yet as to being jipped by city carriage. They saw you coming. “It's criminal to pray upon those new to London." The Earl tutted tongue. "It is little wonder you made it here at all. I've heard instances of travelers being took down beneath London bridge, and emptied out of their carriage and pockets both." One needed to use one of the registered city cabs, where one had the option of recourse, which kept the drivers somewhat in check. George might have told Torrington as much, but having advised of the servant, he refrained from further lectures. The man seemed intelligent enough, and would learn for himself in time.

 

"Quite so." he returned to Edmunds politely placed inquiry. "You shall discover me to be a man of the Arts, and as such a tour of Italy upon occasion is quite the ticket for inspiration. Gatework. Yes, my current fascination, I have in fact designed a set that shall be installed at my Insitute out at Dulwich. You must visit, next spring of course, the road out is too harrowing in the winter." he took another sip of his wine, eyes sliding out and away towards the dance floor.

 

Davina. He watched her move there with... Buckingham. Now this is new?

 

"And so you are resident of the Saint Marks, or staying with family, Lord Torrington? This, which must be your first visit to London, must feel daunting indeed. Why I remember when I first arrived, the sea of faces seemed to go on for indefinite. If it is any reassurance, I may say that it is actually a rather small group defined by say half a dozen niches. And you now find yourself at liberty of choosing the trajectory of your courtly assent. No doubt you shall pass though several circles upon the way." he paused and took a sip.

 

"For instance, see that dark haired fellow of there dancing." he indicated Louis with discreet point of index finger that held his wine glass, "Lord Basildon, with his mentors daughter. Yet more significantly, his out of favor mentors daughter. Now what can we make of that? Politics is a twisted beast." George liked Louis, yet wondered to the mans 'charity' of keeping Bridget company. "Trajectory perhaps?" he swung his gaze back at Edmund.

[Davina Wellsley]

Buckingham & Davina

 

There was no reply to hers and so she let that go and gave her attention to his remarks about the Gentlemen they had just left. That part about 'marriage' she was not too sure about.

 

"I could hardly do that Your Grace for the Lady of Misrule was surly scouting for what ere is planned and in need of one or all. Are you at all surprised by her 'achievements?"

 

Whatever might be said would have to be done as they soon reached the dance floor or wait until they were done. She was curious as to just what the relationship was between Basildons little French cousin and the Duke.

 

It was rather a shame in many ways that Nicolette had seemed to be determined to see and think only that all of Court was aganist her no matter the reasons to say otherwise. Davina had reached out a hand in friendship but when it became obvious that she was now being viewed as a rival or even worse a threat she did not advance anything further.

 

Tonights business and her behaviour made her cautious and the episode in the Gardens had made it clear that Nicolette was going to do what ever it took to gain the objective and for Davina that meant The King.

[Guest]

Torrington and Chichester

 

Edmund blanched a little when Chichester mentioned, purely in a matter of fact way, how else his carriage journey may have ended "God above, why I had a lucky escape then, the rogues!" he exclaimed, sinking the remainder of his glass. Count one's blessings, eh?

 

"Aye, my lord, that would be grand indeed if you could note that down! New city, new valet, methinks!" he said with a chuckle which betrayed the fact that he was perhaps advancing with measured and steady pace along alcohol's stately path - about to reach Tipsy Street but a good long walk yet to Drunk Alley. "I've set up for the now in St Marks until I can find an establishment for myself - I foresee this being a lengthy, if not permanent, stay. Cannee keep kipping in a hostel indefinite now like?" he continued, beginning to betray more of his Northern patois as the drink loosened his tongue.

 

"Designed by your own hand? My, my - now that I would see, aye, that I would! I appreciate things of beauty and art though there's precious little of that up beyond the Tyne! Part of the reason I relocated, you might say!"

 

Edmund noted the sartorially herculean Earl's eyes scanning the room, presumably picking out long-standing acquaintances or friends...or enemies? Edmund listened attentively as Chichester, again in a blase manner, relayed what was probably by then old gossip but fell on Edmund's ears fresh as virgin snow. This was what he had expected! Who was in, who was out. The great and the good. Who was doing what. Who had done what? Who had done who?

 

"That's Lord Basildon? Why I've heard of him!"

 

He was feeling more excitable now, almost puppy-like in his enthusiasm. The drink had fortified him. Now he was here, somewhere he had dreamed of being for years - the Court of the King. At Christmas. Talking to an Earl like it was just another day! The hubbub, gold, glitz, glamour and music were swirling in his head. He even felt sufficiently confident to hazard a gamble on goodwill.

 

"Aye, well now, Chicky, let's advance, eh? A good general leads from the front, they say, like! I'm green and your a veteran, lead on! This is an evening for merry-making so lets see what trouble we can cause, eh?" he said with a laugh and a boyish wink, the Earl's easy bon-homie having disarmed his years of formal education and sense of propriety.

[Raconteur]

Charles and Sarah

 

She, in thinking that there was more afoot, smiled again offering to

 

"Help in any way that I might yet I know precious little about such things - in regards to selecting pups but as to the later you needs must first speak to me of what you DO know and thus I can accuratley gauge if that "Lady" in question is deserving of such a Gift and one from The King Himself no less."

 

"Shall we walk amongst the Company now or am I to help later?"

 

She could hear the titters from those assembled behind her but thinks that this Earl will not be put off by it. Why more like he would be insulted if simply ignored. His actions at the fencing had made her aware of him and that eye-patch only added to the unknown-ness.

 

He was dangerous she thinks and also a 'Libertine' but so were many at Court and she was well able to hold her own in any conversation so this bantering was nothing.

 

It might well prove a good distraction for her seeing as how Churchill had seemed to prefer others' to her - despite the profussion of Love and Adoration they both claimed.

[George Hardwick III]

Torrington and Chichester

 

As they conversed George came to hold a sense of the man before him, who was as wide eyed with wonder as his fabled servant surely, and setting him a the same course with his drinking. If not stopped, the stumbling mess that the former had ended in, would be Edmund's destination too. Though Torrington did not seem to see it, it had been a premonition, George could see it just as plain as day. But for now the Earl reserved the decision of whether to ward him from that path or not, ultimately of course if was for a man to know his own limits after all.

 

"A servant with city-savy would be advisable, or perhaps an ex-soldier who will raise to the occasion if ever required." he pondered, patting pocket and discovering absence of graphite and paper. (Usually he carried paper always.) "Ah, I shall sent a note on the morrow."

 

The Earl's discreet probe to learn if Torrington bragged lofty connections came up dry. He was staying at Saint Marks, seemed to be fending for himself. "My sister stayed at 'the hostel' as you call it." he restrained amusement at Edmund's derogatory term for His Majesty's hospitality, "and found it rather to her liking. One advantage of which is being spared the drudgery of catching a carriage to and from court events, hmm, which might, suit you rather well?" he mused, all things considering. "Yet in anycase, Whitehall is as fine a address as is possible in London, I trust you enjoy it while it's yours."

 

It was a little frustrating, the young Baron picked up on conversation aspects less interesting to the Earl, and blithely overlooked those that were. A habit of one new to Court, George supposed.

 

"You do?" George made no move to rush toward the man he had been talking about, but stood still sipping now and then at his wine. "and how do you know Lord Basildon may I ask? No need to rush in, for likewise do they not say that 'fools rush in'. Yet to adopt your preferred military theme, it is prudent for the general to survey first the terrain."

 

And George was not yet done viewing who was present tonight. Look as he might he still found no sight of his nemesis, yet he constrained any elation until he could be quite sure.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Nicci & CR

 

It was not that Nicci did not hear Davina's needling, but that she held with her grand vision. His Majesty was a lover of women, not of their bickering. And so for the second time that night the Frenchling showed she'd not give catty retort when goaded (did Davina even realise how she unwittingly assisted Nicci with her goal to impress the King?!)

 

So Nicolette laughed gaily, and let the tirade wash right over her back as she batted lashes to the King and his gentlmen, "La! Such a selection!" Suddenly she remembered how she'd enjoyed the Kings company, he was a man of wit and fine conversation, "I am spoilt for choice." she dared to move alongside Charles Rex to peruse the gents on offer.

 

They all knew who she would choose, but the King did enjoy his games, indeed didn't' they all.

 

"Well, Lord Herbert is renown for his fearlessness, which might leave a Lady of Misrule quite breathless." she gave a little gasp, and touched hand to her breast. "While Lord Ashburnham has a resume I cannot ignore, pranking with the likes of His Grace Buckingham and Mall."

 

They were each rather gorgeous in their own right.

 

But her eyes slid to the King, giving what she hoped was a shy smile. Goodness, but he must know that she yearned for his attention! For the chance to make him laugh and be happy of her, that he might perhaps draw her into his fold.

 

"But it is not to poach that I approach Your Majesty. Nay! But to outrageously claim that which I am owed." her eyes flared a little, her heart pounded at her daring. "A kiss, your Majesty, the one I was promised in the gardens, the one that I have dreamt of ever since."

 

He remembered didn't he?

[Charles Audley]

Charles and Sarah

 

"What do I know? Why, almost nothing. York and Buckingham aside, I do not think that I would even recognise any of the dukes on sight, never mind anything beyond that." He shrugged. "In truth, I think that at least some of the intent behind this reward was to give me impetus towards making connections. Would you be able to name any ladies meeting the criteria who it would be good for an ambitious upstart on the make to know?"

 

He smiled down at her.

 

"I am loathe to deprive you of the society of your friends but if you wish a turn around the room, I should be delighted to escort you. We are too late to dance, alas."

 

His lip twitched in suppressed amusement at the further tittering from their audience. He was almost tempted to give something actually worth gossiping over. He waggled his eyebrows at Sarah before continuing, deciding to risk a little frank honesty.

 

"Truthfully, Mistress, as greatly appreciated as your help would be and is, my need for aid was partially but an excuse to speak with you again."

[Blackguard]

Francis and Frances

 

Frances was glad that her companion seemed to sense the scandal in Julia's presence. She had yet to speak to the lady but she hoped to gain some further insight into the situation later In the season.

 

"Her name is Dorothea I believe," Frances replied. "I forget which burg she is from." She giggled at the thought that there were so many German states and so many that seemed to end in berg. "Mayhaps she is just visiting, but she is attending the Queen during her stay." The more she thought on it the more she imagined it was likely a visit. Still, that counted for something interesting. "I met her but once. Maybe she is related."

 

As for Bohemia, it sounded important enough. Her source about the Emperor had been a good one so she had little doubt as to the veracity of the rumor; yet, it was curious that the envoy had yet to arrive.

[Guest]

Torrington and Chichester

 

"Aye - I would be most appreciative of that," Edmund said, giving a measured nod. "Someone who knows the tricks and ways of the City!" Preferably so he could pass them on to his master, he thought to himself but thought better of voicing it.

 

"We may be many miles away from the seat of the action, as it were, but news does slowly perforate into the great Northern wilds! Must admit though, that whilst my father was alive, rest his soul, I was distracted with matters of our own business and affairs but my Mother is an inveterate consumer of news, gossip, tittle-tattle and the like. I am sure that I've heard Lord Basildon's name come up in those - he is, or was, close to the King? A man of some influence I think I've heard him described but influence comes in many forms so maybe his is of the more obvious sort, the less interesting one if you ask me!"

 

Edmund noticed the Earl's eyes continuing to scour the sea of faces swirling about the crowded room. What was he looking for? Who was he looking for? He must find his company terribly parochial compared to the likes of some in here. But, then again, wasn't the whole point of this relocation to become a new man - to eventually become one of these free and easy City gents - get rid of the stigma of the provinces? One had to start somewhere and perhaps all he needed was to find the right sort of person to learn from.

 

"Very true, Whitehall suits well for the purposes but I like to have my own space. I am very conscious I am a guest and would rather be able to call myself master of my own place, even if it is only a nutshell!"

 

He set down his glass on the tray of a passing servant and did not pick up another. This was not a family wedding in Durham, Gateshead or the like when drink flowed in as great a quantity as the Tyne. Here some discretion was required. The Earl, who had readily picked up and quipped on his military simile, clearly had an eye for terrain and was scouring it with an eye as practiced as Alexander, Caesar or the great Turenne. Engage him in something more to his taste, Torrington!

 

"Forgive me, you can tell I'm only too new here! Bullish enthusiasm for the new! A sucker for novelty, a failing of mine! Yet like a man fresh to the front I'm here to learn the rules of the game and I suppose that means learning about the other players. Will you indulge me, general, and point out who is who? Consider myself at your disposal! Eyes front and centre!"