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

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and the Toledos

 

Her gaze meandered to the Earl of Arundel when Esteban asked her to speak to him. Would he even remember her? Did it matter? It might be better if he didn't recall their time in Brighton together. Now that she was no longer an innocent maiden, she suspected that he had wanted more from her than a casual walk on the beach. She had shown him how she could lift her leg over her head and promised to dance for him, which must have seemed rather suggestive.

 

If he did remember her, what would he think of her now?

 

Sophia frowned when her husband told her to avoid the Ladies Alyth and O'Roarke, but she nodded. Maybe Lord Maldon had been right and they were not rsepected at court. They were her friends, though, and if they approached her, she would converse with them. She wasn't going to snub them, no matter what Esteban said.

 

As for being a royal mistress, she already belonged to that circle, but it was a well-kept secret and would remain that way. From what John had told her this afternoon, her beloved Juan was not well-liked by the English. Perhaps by keeping their love hidden, he was protecting her from ridicule as well as from kidnappers and assassins.

 

An unfamiliar male voice interrupted her thoughts and Sophia turned her attention to the gentleman who had approached them just as he began to bow. When he rose, she was surprised by the patch over his eye. How had he lost it, she wondered? The other one was a beautiful vivid blue. Maybe somebody stole it because they liked the color, she mused fancifully. It was more likely that he lost it in an accident or a war.

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Sophia said after Esteban had introduced them. If he had not possessed an English name and accent, she might have thought that he was Spanish or Italian. Or maybe Portuguese. Her eyes lit up when he complimented her voice and she looked over at her husband, triumph evident in her ice-blue eyes and a slight smirk upon her lips. See? You worried for nothing. It was my voice, not my costume or my acting, that everyone remembers.

 

Esteban's comment, while lovely, seemed a bit ironic. Only this morning, she would have sworn he thought her gift came from Satan instead of God.

 

Sophia smiled warmly at Lord Chatham, a soft blush suffusing her cheeks. “Thank you, my lord. I trained for four years in Venice and I had the honor of being taught by some of the best singers in Italy. I am hoping that opera will become as popular here as it is there. Did you by chance visit Venice when you were in Italy?”

[Cordelia Lucas]

Cordelia, Lady Lucas

 

She had not bothered with the silliness of being 'Called In' dismissing it as yet another bit of nonseness that was practiced at Christmas Court. Easily side-stepping past those eager to partake she calmly entered and began to take stock.

 

She and Constance had made their arrangements but she wanted to have a good understanding of the Field afore the Battle commenced. Her eyes were still sharp and she was now able to place Title to Face easily which allowed her to know where the Higher Ranks and Families all gathered.

 

The Monarchs had yet to arrive.

 

Noticed the placement of Court factions and could not help the small smile as how little things change even if the Times do! Feeling confident about the evening she then began to scout out her own spot -

 

NO! to those Matron's busy with knitting and that kind of 'gossip' she was not looking for at the moment but knew it could prove useful so it was not ruled out.

 

Being to close to Muscians would also not suit and so she made the decission to place herself half way down the Hall where thankfully hardly any had claimed as most continued to mill about moving from Group to Group.

 

She would be easy to find attired in deep Cranberry velvet with its trim of black jet beads on bodice with an undecorated closed skirt. She had thought hard about wearing it for it was out of date by a good five years yet her Age would allow for it The black lace at her elbows had come off her other best gown yet paired well with the cranberry velvet sleeves.

 

Her hair was up with her curls in their usual places and she'd had the affectation to add two small dark green velvet bows that her maid had sewn some clear glass beads onto to make a fancy design that mimicked the winking of true diamonds. She was well presented as befitted her Status and so gave her attire little notice once seated.

 

Spying some familiar faces she quietly began to watch.

[Lucas Cole]

Lucas Cole & Edith Habersham

 

Timid?

 

Lucas stiffened slightly, almost imperceptibly, and regarded the lady with a narrowed eye. Second time I've been accused of such in as many days...

 

"Courage has nothing at all to do with it," he lied, quite convincingly, "I am simply shocked that you think the triumph mine. I rather doubt a soul remembers a single note of my music, with their memories so thoroughly occupied with the talents of the star." This was rather bitterly said and, frankly, unworthy of him. The fact that it was the truth redeemed it very little.

 

He bowed, foregoing the patently unnecessary introductions. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Habersham," though he did not seem overly pleased. Motherly types had always held a particular horror for Lucas Cole, reminding him of the inconstancy of his own mother; motherly types were certainly not to be trusted. "I regret my conduct does not meet with your approval."

[Charles Audley]

Charles and the Toledos

Well, he hasn't called for the guards or challenged me to a duel, so I can assume my secrets are safe.

 

Charles nodded again in response to Toledo's comment and gave Diana- no, Sophia- his best attempt at a gentle smile. (Easier with his hair down rather than queued but still likely to be an exercise in futility.) There had been some brief interplay between the couple as Toledo had made the introductions. Charles could make nothing of it but noted it all the same. Perhaps further conversation would illuminate the matter.

 

"A divine gift indeed. I have heard it said that music is the tongue of angels and, having heard your lady wife sing, I can well believe it." The flattery was no less shameless for being heartfelt.

 

Free of his need to pay homage to Diana the musical icon, Charles could appreciate Sophia as a woman. Discreetly, of course, but Charles was an old hand at that. Shorter than he would have thought, with exquisite features and carrying her bounties before her. (With a heroic effort of will, the earl kept his gaze on her face.) Spoke English well and blushed most becomingly. Toledo had done exceedingly well for himself.

 

He shook his head as she finished speaking and smiled again.

 

"A gentleman needs no thanks for speaking the truth, Lady Toledo. You are a credit to your teachers. I should dearly love to see opera make a home in England, and your talents have given it the best possible start." A brief pause, to see if that blush could become yet more fetching. "As to your question, to visit Italy and not see Venice would be rather like leaving last night's opera before Diana and Actaeon meet. I visited for Carnivale some years ago, and ended up staying much longer than I had planned."

 

A swift glance to either side and he leaned in towards the couple, voice lowered and eye glittering merrily.

 

"In truth, I think Venice might just shade London as my favourite city in the world. Shh. Do refrain from telling anyone. 'Tis almost treasonous."

 

He straightened up and laughed.

[Hope]

Lady Constance Dunmoore

 

Constance however did appreciate the recognition, and felt wholly deserving of the respectful announcement of her arrival.

 

Standing in the doorway for her moment, she was a picture of stately grandeur - wrapped about in a fine dove gray wool gown that was aptly bunched in the right places, accessorized with plum rosettes. Her aged hands were concealed by gloves, and a lace fischu concealed the ravages of time upon her throat and neck - yet she made no attempt to conceal her crown of silver hair; emblem as it were of the accrued knowledge, many years, much wisdom. One might hope that these young things would appreciate, or reverence that, though she knew better than to hold her breath.

 

There she saw Cordelia, and pleased to have an immediate target, progressed towards her in a straight line - pausing when necessary for this youngster or that to shift out of her way with the appropriate apology to her.

[Ambrose Turnbull]

Heather, Charles and Ambrose

 

The Lieutenant was thinking himself to have fatally blundered, of those few first impressions he'd made at Court none had gone well, and Heather had been a dramatic climax of errors. He could either abandon hope and head for open seas, or to dig deep and try again. He'd done the latter, and attended the ball. Her reminder of his earlier failure was not encouraging... so he'd pulled back.

 

Then imagine the surprise when she claimed a kiss. He was caught utterly by surprise, and failed to do his best at a return, simply said was left blinking as she pulled back away.

 

"Er-ha-ah. Yes, well I think I can count myself collected." he gave a wry smile, and bashful look towards the Major.

 

The Major seemed a good sort, a cheerful chap with the confidence of success. Meanwhile Ambrose did not trust himself to say anything much, in case he fucked it up. He'd gotten a kiss from Heather, best he leave well enough alone. "Ah yes." he nodded, glanced about somewhat. He was not expecting any one to want to dance with him, but perhaps Heather might have some advice he could use.

[Raconteur]

Sir Cedric Doolittle with his daughter Mistress Ellen Doolittle

 

They were amongst the now larger crowd that were waiting to be called into the Hall which once learned of all the Facts had set off a rambeling of laughter and eager looks. All of which mattered very little to the daughter of a man without a true Title.

 

She had choosen to wear a gown made of a red/green changable Tafetta trimmed with silver metalic threads that had been decorated with glass beads of red and green in a tasteful pattern evenly spaced around the neck and back of her bodice and then on ether side of her overskirt that was held back to reveal a cream silk underskirt.

 

Her blonde hair was swept up and two curls hung down the middle of her back studded with pearl-headed pins which played well with the pearl and diamonds at her throat and around one wrist. There was little doubt that Ellen Doolittle had a very wealthy Father.

 

Her father was looking well for his forty two years and she hoped he would not over indulge which would bring on another attack that had taken him near three weeks to recover from and tried her patience. But he had already begun before they had left their residence so she could do little now.

 

Her brown eyes with their long lashes shone with intelligence as they took the measure of all around them calculating to the penny the amounts spent and she knew she could hold her own.

 

If her brother-in-law Viscount Melville were to arrive it would help to establish that Family Connection but where that might have bothered her before it no longer did. She had changed since that episode at the Tennis Courts indeed was in some ways a different version of herself that pleased her. That her once nemesis had married a Spanard and then displayed all her assets so Publicly had made her feel some sorrow for the younger girl/woman who was now Lady Toledo.

 

Why she might even speak up in her defense if she overheard some speech and she would greet her with as much 'warmth' as she could if that pair were present this night!

 

The line at last moved and soon it would be their turn

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and the Duchesses

 

The ladies were surprisingly enlightening. Perhaps because they deemed Douglas either far from being a threat or desperately in need of educating; but they might be gratified to know that he was not only listening but taking it all in. How the advice might eventually express was anyone's guess.

 

The suggestion that he should accept his place at court wasn't quite as well received, Douglas had always been very poor at that, but then his place had generally been only one step above the servants. Now things had changed and he had a Barony to his own name, even if the castle was only a ruin. Perhaps it was more that one should not seem to be grasping? He wasn't good at lying, but perhaps he could learn.

 

A lot of men liked the apparent innocence of child-like women; Douglas didn't. Just as he found no particular appeal in beautiful women, but then he'd grown up in a house full of them. So perhaps that was why, once the spell of her infamy wore off, Douglas wasn't particularly entranced by Frances, though she seemed pleasant enough and wasn't ignoring him, which earned many points in his book. Neither was Maitland. Confidence, he admired. Intelligence, forthrightness and of course a certain sexual enthusiasm always appealed. He was finding Frances and Elizabeth to be an intriguing study in contrasts, and was enjoying the conversation far more than he'd expected, given the lack of overt flirtation.

 

Frances' comment drew a smile from the big man, and it was one of those phrases that set off a little chain reaction in his imagination.

 

"Arenae th'angray allus in red?

Green's jealous, blue's sad and black's dead?

Yet their clothing micht show

Tae thaim in the know

Jus' a preference fer't colour instead."*

 

He paraphrased, smile broadening to a grin, before he popped the last of his piece of cake into his mouth.

 

Subtitles

* "Aren't the angry always in red?

Green's jealous, blue's sad and black's dead?

Yet their clothing might show

To them in the know

Just a preference for the colour, instead."

[Blackguard]

Catriona

 

"You are quite correct," Rochester replied. "It is a truth that the feminine side of one's humanity is the artistic side. With good reason. Women see the possible, while men the world the way it is. I prefer to see the possible." It was with a sigh that he ended his philosophic observation, turning instead to look at the courtier she noted.

 

"A wise choice. Basildon has become so boring of late, swilling at the trough of politics as if some undiscovered morsel might provide a meal. A tragedy for such a handsome fellow with libertine tastes. A fall from the sublime to the mundane. Courting the Queen's favor, he'll toss himself in her path surely." His eye scanned the room. "The Queen is even more boring. Do not doubt that she will invite her uncle to dance," he speculated with a laugh.

 

Davina

 

Once he had his sister alone, Richard revealed the cause of his angst. "I do not know any ladies at court really," he confessed. "I need you to coax some of your lady friends to ask me to dance." He tried to disguise how important is was to him. He needed to be seen with someone other than Eleanor and he needed to establish his credentials as a good match. "Can you do that for me? You must not make it seem that I am desperate," he added, in a desperate voice.

 

John

 

Freed of the company of Ogle and Caroline, John joined Devonshire. The man was recovering some of his color, or had applied rouge to his cheeks. "I'm feeling better," the old man insisted. "The holidays always have a certain magic." He managed a thin smile. "What of you John? How do you plan to spend your holiday season?" He certainly hoped the lad would take his prior advice to heart.

 

"I hear the King might be engaged in some matchmaking. It is a queer thrill he takes. I would suggest you hover near him. In fact, I will try and introduce you if we can fight through the phalanx of ladies descending on him." The attempt at humor caused him to cough briefly. "You might find a match through him that would be better than you might otherwise manage." He was trying to encourage the young lord. John had a dark and light side to his expectations in life as far as the Earl could judge. It was hard not to think darkly when one stuttered and had a limp, he imagined. Some families would think him cursed by God somehow, not wanting their grandchildren to carry on similar curses, or so Devonshire imagined. He was of the class that might have had similar views had he not come to know John as a more gentle soul cursed by luck rather than the divine.

 

"In contrast, I would keep Catherine away from the King," he advised as he looked over John's shoulder and nodded in the direction of Catherine, appearing lost in a sea of courtiers looking for her brother.

 

Lucas

 

"Opera is mostly about the music, is it not?" the older matron replied undeterred. "The stories are not new, merely retold ancient stories and myths. Only the music is new. Though I wonder if any music is new," she continued, starting to prattle as was her nature. "I wonder if music is like geography, merely waiting to be discovered. My late husband was a great student of geography by the way. He had all sorts of maps all about the house. He could tell you where most any city in Europe was, even memorizing each state in the Holy Roman Empire. Now there is a feat." There was a pause. "Oh, where was I?"

 

"Yes, so you are the one to be applauded," she stated, as if there had been no sidetracked thought. "The person that wrote it deserves some credit surely." She would not mention the hussy that sang it.

 

When Lucas remarked about Edith's disappointment in him, she merely tutted. "You just need a guiding hand Master Cole. Who does not from time to time? I seem to have a habit of taking the Welsh under wing of late." She missed her godchild Gwendolyn and was in a search for a new project. Francis Kirke had managed to do well for himself. He was such a polite gentlemen and had such a wealth of golden locks. That focused her on the composer's dark hair briefly. A shame.

 

"I would say that if you stood with His Grace Buckingham tonight, he would see you celebrated, and with the King," she advised, thinking she knew something of the Duke. Had not her Gwen become his mistress and Francis was his cousin? In addition to the Welsh, it seemed that she hovered near those with connections to George Villiers.

 

Charles and the Toledos

 

It appeared that Toledo was ignorant of Audley's history. The Ambassador did little but observe the man. This English earl certainly had a way with words. Perhaps he had a career in diplomatic circles. Still, the dark patch on his eye added a sinister element. Esteban was not going to agree about the beauty of Venice. He could only hope that his wife had not met the Englishman before. Audley would be one to watch.

[Blackguard]

Douglas

 

The Scot seemed to be attentive to the advice. Maitland had her own reasons for suggesting that the Scot know his place, some benevolent and some less so. Frances wondered how he might react to her warning.

 

It surprised both to hear him break out into lyrics. Maitland enjoyed the Scottish brogue more than Richmond, but the latter enjoyed the impromptu piece more. Le Belle Stuart had been cool, but polite, to the Scot; yet, his ditty earned him favorable notoriety in her eyes.

 

"Oh, a very clever piece," Richmond complimented. "Is that old or is it new?"

[Blackguard]

All

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," Killigrew bellowed from the raised dais. His words were likely lost in the cacophony of sounds and voices echoing in the great chamber. The musicians were tuning their instruments as well.

 

"The first dance shall be a country dance and shall start as soon as their Majesties arrive. Ladies be sure to find your partners quickly." It must be that the royals planned to enter soon.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Catriona and Rochester

 

Cat smiled at Rochester. "And you do a fabulous job of being more feminine," she teased. Not that she had any problem with men in touch with their feminine side. Hadn't she helped more than one man find a gown?

 

She laughed at his description of Basildon, though she had never found him all that attractive, though that was probably due to her long-term dislike of the man. "Ah, family. The safest route. Bah." She shook her head at that idea, though if she noticed no one dancing with Douglas, she might save him. That is what family did. Then Killigrew called out the imminent arrival of the King and thus the start of the dancing.

 

"Since I would hate to be considered predictable, like the Queen, do you think I should thwart one of her choices?" Not that she would want to dance with either, but it would cause a stir...

[Guest]

John and Devonshire

 

John smiled genuinely at his seeming good health, “That’s g-g-good.” John pursed his lips as to what he was going to do, “Help m-m-my sisters if I can, see if I can get an expedition to gather exotic seeds for spring. And I’m b-b-building a snow castle.” John sighed, as if the answer was disappointing. Somewhere in there he was going to try and help Cavendish and Sophia too, and perhaps gather some allies, but that was all less certain.

 

The King’s matchmaking habit was hardly queer to John. He suspected the King used it to make alliances he considered advantageous to running the country. “I’ve already m-m-met him. But you m-m-might bring me over.” John said of the King. He moved slightly, as if to assist, when Devonshire coughed. “Better?” John said as if the notion was queer. He looked around, trying to spot major heiresses or unmarried royals. Were there any? Would the King really match them on a whim? He thought the last one had just been snapped up by Ogle.

 

Better than his expectations meant a major heiress or connections to royalty to John. Both of which his family had achieved before. But the baseline, what John expected, was the daughter of a powerful and influential nobleman, an earl or higher of good blood and name. No one in his immediate family had married worse in generations.

 

He didn’t think his disability would affect it. He wasn’t the first or only disabled nobleman. One of them had even become Chief Minister around the turn of the century, an ugly, hunchbacked, crippled man. In fact, that particular nobleman was Lady Devonshire’s grandfather.

 

John’s fear was that the lady would hate him. He didn’t think he had any romantic or sexual allure. But her father would no doubt be thrilled with his blood and connections and title. And hopefully his power, in time.

 

“I think Isaac should g-g-get married before me. His p-p-prospects look better when I’m unmarried.” John said hesitantly The logic was because he was an heir presumptive. “But you know b-b-best.” John said, with the trust and deference of a dutiful child. He would follow along if Devonshire went.

 

As for his sister, John waved her over since she looked lost. She was free to her own devices unless Sophia judged her relationship to the Queen to still be solid and sought her out. Otherwise, he would send his gift over in the mail with Catherine's name on it. “I’m m-m-more interested in putting her before the Queen at the moment anyway. And Abigail b-b-before the Princess if she c-c-comes… back from the Netherlands.” Devonshire had promised to help her there.

[Lucas Cole]

Lucas Cole & Edith Habersham

 

"What a singular opinion," Lucas replied rather caustically, before he could stop himself. His bitterness was showing; the disappointment of his masterpiece, the innovation over which he'd slaved becoming little more than a footnote to the spectacle of Sophia. A mere instrument with tits!

 

He collected himself with an effort, swallowing the many unkind things that leapt immediately to mind and which Lady Habersham most certainly did not deserve. For her part, she seemed content to express every one of her thoughts, declaring him in need of a helping hand and offering it at once... or at the very least her wing and her advice (which amounted to his attending his patron, and the King.) Lucas' gaze sought out the Duke among the crowd, which was not at all difficult given the man's height. He sighed.

 

"I do not look for credit, my lady," he declared dismissively; a brief gesture with the wine glass and an end to the entire subject. "Raising one's hopes needlessly is a fool's endeavor. I intend to quit court upon the morrow for... warmer shores. There is nothing at all for me here."

[Guest]

Thomas had found himself in a familiar situation; he was late. No matter hard he tried he never seemed to be able to get anywhere on time. So much for discipline, he thought to himself as he approached the herald. He immediately apologized to him for his untimely arrival, and asked him to announce him as:

 

Lieutenant Thomas Grey

 

It was easier to remember, and he liked to keep any mention of his father's titles away from his visage. Of course it didn't matter. His eldest brother would inherit. That was the reason he was sent off to the navy after all. He just hoped his father, or his eldest brother wouldn't be in attendance. That was the last thing he needed tonight. He was already nervous. Attending a ball, full of royalty and nobility wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. He had to be careful of how he acted unless he wanted trouble.

 

With that he stuffed the thought into the back of his mind, and shot straight towards the back table that held various drinks. He was going to need them to get through this. On the way he tried his damnedest to avoid the mistletoe that seemed to be everywhere.

 

He snatched some ale off the table clumsily. He drank the ale as if it was the first drink on the eve before setting sail. He just had to avoid too much attention, and he should be safe for the night. The lack of presence could help him avoid a dance. That was something he hadn't prepared for. Some people likened dancing to sword play. He wasn't very good at either. So he summoned his best scowl and tried to force the "cold and demanding Lieutenant" persona that he often used aboard ships.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Louis and Nicci

 

Though really, Nicolette hardly needed an official title to work some merriment, nor did most of court. It might almost be more interesting for some shy and retiring sort to have that magic upon them. Didn't they always say it was the quiet ones you need to watch?

 

Nicolette was just about to set off upon her adventures, when her Cousin told of his idea. And here she'd been thinking he had not liked her challenge of Mall (he'd not said anything much of the dare), but perhaps it was because the crowd cleared enough that the Herbert group (& Mall) became visible at that moment. Louis saw a use for Nicci... and she was hardly going to object.

 

"Ooo yes." she leaned close to him and purred, "but I will remind you again of my terms."

 

And so the pair strolled toward the daunting group. Buckingham had utterly surrounded himself by his houses women, and seemed to be somewhat smug in his position at their centre. Really, the Duke's ego was even worse than Louis's (though that much confidence was very appealing to girl with Nicolette's particular fallibility.)

 

Nicci & Louis approach the blonde ladies with fans & Buckingham

 

As they approached, the ladies had grouped to whisper something amusing together (if their laughter was any clue).

 

Nicolette had never met the Ladies Herbert, though she'd once flirted with both the gentlemen of their family concurrently. Then there was Mall, whom Nicolette had 'sort of' met once, though having made no impression (that she was aware of). The Duke was definitely the more approachable of the group, but it was plain enough that there was a game of hurdles here that he was playing - that he did not want to let just anyone to stroll right up to him.

 

A moment of nerves (aka terror) was Nicci's, though repressed beneath her smile.

 

"Had I known a role reversal for choosing dance partners, I've have worn breeches." she chimed as they broached the ladies. Mall preferred to wear breeches, she knew, so hoped to make a connection with her. "... and perhaps a rapier. Alas, as it is, I remain in dread fear for my cousins virtue, pray ladies, would you help me to protect him?" Which was surely a starting point for chatter. Louis surely looked not in the least vulnerable - which was the jest she was here making.

 

Meeting the Duke's eyes Nicolette gave a small curtsy, uncertain if he wished, or if she was even allowed, to actually approach him.

[Caroline Despanay]

The young lord had been drinking, that much was obvious, not that Caroline would condemn him for that, she was quite the drinker on occasion herself. At least he seemed pleased to accept her offer to dance. She felt strange asking, a reversal of the tradition but probably exactly why the decision had been made to have the ladies ask the gentlemen.

 

"Very well then, it sounds like the first dance will start very soon. I should imagine we go out there? " she held out her hand so he could escort her out on the floor.

 

One dance with him, that would be it. Then she could find someone she actually knew to dance. Since the choice of partners this night was hers, she was damn well going to make use of it.

[Aria]

Two ladies trying to catch CW's eye

 

Having just broken away from a group of her friends, Susan Herbert was about to approach Lord Kingston when the dancing was announced. She had been covertly watching Lord Langdon as he conversed with Lady O'Roarke and a soldier she did not know, hoping that he might excuse himself so that she could talk to him. It was doubtful that her volatile brother would approve of her socializing with the libertine Countess and so she kept her distance.

 

Now she veered toward him, stopping at a refreshment table a short distance away and willing him to look her way. If he did, she would beckon him over and ask him to dance. And maybe afterward, they could talk for a bit. She needed his advice on how to proceed with her investigation into the story of the Lion and the Swan, and she wondered if he had found out anything that they didn't already know. Susan hoped that they could find the location of the inn where the star-crossed lovers had met. More clues might possibly await them there.

 

And she wouldn't mind another trip through the secret passageways beneath the palace.

 

Fiona was observing him as well, a glass of wine in her hand, contemplating whether or not she should pull him away from his conversation and onto the dance floor. She had promised herself that she would behave like a proper lady this season … at least in public ... so it might be better to wait until he noticed her first. Patience, however, was not a virtue she possessed.

 

Both young ladies were oblivious to each other's presence and intentions.

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and the Toledos

 

Lord Chatham's reply to Esteban's remark was quite eloquent. He had a lovely way with words. Her voice had been called angelic before and she had even dressed like an angel when she had sung for the King's birthday, but she was still charmed by the Earl's praise.

 

Her blush deepened when he complemented her yet again. “Then instead of thanking you, I shall say that I am delighted that my voice pleased you. Master Cole and Master Greyson wrote the opera and it is they who deserve the credit for it. I believe it was the first opera ever written in English. I do hope they write others, which will also help its popularity. Master Greyson is currently touring Italy. He will probably come back with much inspiration.” She said nothing yet about her goal of having an opera house built in London, but she did wonder if he had the means to support it.

 

“Ahh, Carnivale. Nothing I have ever seen can compare to it.” Sophia smiled at Esteban. “We must visit Venice during Carnivale. You must experience it for yourself.” Her ice-blue gaze returned to Lord Chatham. “Venice has that effect on everyone, I think. One ends up staying much longer than one intended. I visited with my lord father when I was eleven and begged him to let me stay. He had friends there who volunteered to take care of me while I focused on training my voice.”

 

A trace of sadness colored her voice when she mentioned her late father, but only moments later, the petite Baroness chuckled when he confessed that Venice was his favorite city in the world. “I feel the same way,” she whispered conspiratorially. “There is no place I would rather be. Our preference for Venice shall remain a secret between us, ja?”

 

The dancing was announced then and the petite Baroness grinned at the one-eyed Earl. “Would you like to dance, my lord, if my lord husband will permit it?” She would dance the final dance of the evening with Esteban, since it was considered the most meaningful. If her Prince were here, her last dance would have belonged to him.

[Charles Audley]

Charles and the Toledos

 

It would appear the lady can blush more fetchingly. 'Tis almost unfair, how some of us are more gifted in talent, grace and comportment than others.

 

Charles kept his appreciation to himself and his face a carefully crafted amiable mask. He had not missed Toledo's observation of him. He didn't hold it against the ambassador- in the other man's place he would have done exactly the same. There was a distinctly roguish cast to his features, after all. He nodded along as Sophia spoke of the creative minds behind the opera.

 

"Master Greyson almost certainly will come back inspired. It is that sort of country. It... stirs one's soul." He grinned almost embarrassedly. "I am no one's idea of a creative mind, but even I tried my hand while there. Unsuccessfully, I'll admit, nothing worth the energy of remembering, but the attempt was good for me."

 

He smiled wistfully as Sophia urged her husband to visit Venice for Carnivale.

 

"Should your duties ever give you the liberty, my lord, it would be well worth the visit. Carnivale in Venice is something everyone should see at least once."

 

And you never know who you might run in to.

 

He laughed as Sophia promised to keep his secret.

 

"Shared secrets make for strong friendships, or so I'm told. One can hope." He made sure to include Toledo in that as well. It would have entirely classless to do otherwise.

 

And then Sophia asked him to dance.

 

"I should be honoured my lady. If you are a tenth as skilled a dancer as you are a singer, I shall have secured the best possible partner." A rueful grin. "I fear, though, that you will be praised for your Christian charity."

 

He turned to Toledo.

 

"With your excellency's permission, of course."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and the Duchesses

 

"Tis new." Douglas declared to Frances' query. "Hinvented just noo, inspired by yer words, Lairdies."* He revealed. Sometimes he could do that. He'd once tried his hand at something more complex but it hadn't gone nearly as well; limericks seems to work in his mind.

 

Wiping his hand on the nearest napkin, Douglas internally lamented that there had been no ring in his cake, though choking on it might well have stilted the banter. Others he noted were making spirited attacks on the table of sweets.

 

A moment later Killigrew, shouting to be heard over the hubbub of conversations, announced the first dance. The musicians tuned their instruments in a less than subtle hint.

 

"Ah, thairs the first dance, an' me wi'oot a partner. Alas, alack." He made a deliberate pout, an impressive expression on already full lips, and cocked his head at the ladies. "I believe I shuid flutter my lashes an' flirt wi' my fan, but I seem tae hae fergittit it."**

 

The big man made a show of patting his pockets, as though looking for the missing item.

 

Subtitles

* It's new. Invented just now, inspired by your words, Ladies."

** "Ah, there's the first dance, and me without a partner. Alas, alack. I believe I should flutter my lashes and flirt with my fan, but I seem to have forgotten it."

[Louis Killington]

Nicci, Louis and the Buckingham Buffer

 

Louis pretended to hear nothing of terms that his cousin might set for him. It was best to feign ignorance if the terms were not appealing. Rather, he smiled at the adventure at hand.

 

Nicolette played her part well; but then, she seemed a natural when it came to charming her way into or out of a situation. At least that was how it appeared to her cousin. He tried hard not to laugh aloud at her jest about his virtue. So that is how we are playing it? He had thought about other tactics initially, but one needed to defer to a lady in such circumstances.

 

"Yes, I too fear for my virtue," he exclaimed to those assembled before him. "I seem to have misplaced it some time ago." It was a merry smile he wore as he bowed to the ladies assembled and Buckingham. "A happy Christmas to you all ladies, and your Grace." It was only fitting for the holiday. "My Lord Buckingham, is there room for me beside you ... surrounded by such charming guardians? I offer my, and my cousin's, dark hair to help contrast and showcase the abundant gold on display by the flower of the Villiers and Herbert houses." Smiles were offered to all the ladies present, including Mall. For now he would not target her specifically. It was best to determine if she would engage with him in holiday banter. or whether she might reveal a different path to woo a dance from her.

[Blackguard]

Catriona and Rochester

 

"Thwart one of her choices?" Rochester turned with a childish glee in his eyes. "What did you have in mind?" He looked ready to be an accomplice in crime. "Careful, she already dislikes you ... and me for that matter. Let's not give the King cause to send us away. He has yet to fully forgive my last transgression."

 

Realizing that his advice was too sober Johnny looked introspective for a moment before speaking further. "Oh Hell with it. I'm going to get that German prude under mistletoe and kiss her!" He started tittering at the thought. After a moment of undisguised glee, he looked to Cat to concoct some protest of her own.

 

John and Devonshire

 

The thought of seeds and snow castles caused the old man to cough again, rather than otherwise reply. Helping one's sister was a familial obligation, and a noble one at that. When asked if he was better, the Earl nodded and asked a passing servant for whiskey. The burning liquid would do wonders for the phlegm in his throat.

 

"Isaac, yes, I suppose." He was thoughtful for a moment. "There is plenty of time John. Fear not."

 

It was then that Catherine arrived, having seen her sibling's signal. She looked relieved to be amongst friends. "Catherine, how grown up you look," Devonshire commented, causing a nervous smile in reply. Turning to John, the older man asked "who might we recommend to Catherine for the dance?" He looked towards young Henry Cavendish, about to make a suggestion, but it died before being uttered. Lord Ogle would be no good influence on John's young sister. There were no other Cavendish young men nearby. "John Burgoyne Is a good and gentleman." That was the best recommendation he had at the moment.

 

"I am glad that you have met the King," he added to John's disclosure. "It might be difficult to fight the crowd to see him tonight. We'll see if we can get the Queen's attention."

 

The Duke of Ablemarle joined the crowd briefly, whispering in the ear of Frances Cavendish, who then followed him in the direction of the Earls of Dorset and Rochester.

 

Lucas and Habersham

 

"It is a rare man that does not seek credit," the matron replied with a look to his face that suggested she was testing his veracity with her experienced gaze. His later words and professed departure spoke otherwise.

 

"To abandon hope is to enter Hell," the lady muttered as she twisted the telling of Dante's epic tale. Yet, was she so wrong? Court could seem a ruthless place of injustice, favoritism and caprice. It might represent the second, third, and fourth circles of Hell (lust, gluttony and greed). The next level of suffering was anger, but the Welshman showed no such signs outwardly. Rather it appeared that he was resigned to his fate.

 

The natural tendency was to try and talk the young man out of leaving court but there was something in his eyes that appeared resolute. Thus, Edith did something she rarely did when confronted by contrary attitude; she did nothing.

 

"Sunny shores." A distant smile warmed her expression. "That sounds heavenly to these old bones. I wish you well Master Cole. Safe travels and may you find the place you seek."

 

Thomas Grey

 

An older courtier with a white staff found himself standing next to the young naval officer. He had a white plaster on his nose that was most unbecoming, but he did not seem to care. Holding a drink in one hand, Henry Bennett sighed. "You'll never attract a lady with that sort of look young sir."

 

Caroline

 

"I think we are awaiting His Majesty's entrance," Henry replied with a look towards the royal dais. "I suppose we could head for the dance area. Perhaps you can tell me something of yourself while we wait," he suggested.

 

The Toledos

 

On the subject of Venice, the Ambassador listen to the recommendation of Audley. "I shall bear that in mind."

 

Though Esteban experienced trepidation about giving his consent to such a silver-tongued lord, the Baron knew that he could not lock away Sophia from contact with English gentlemen. "You have my consent sir." A polite smile was offered the Earl.

 

Douglas and the Duchesses

 

Maitland had no desire to dance with the Scot until she consulted her husband. It was unknown as to whether the man would be an enemy or friend. Frances was under no such restriction; but, she had told herself that she had no desire to dance with the lanky Scotsman. It was only his impromptu poetry that changed her mind. Prior to that, she had considered the man quite irregular. Yet, a man that could spout such words effortlessly was a treasure in some small way.

 

"Captain, you are pathetic," Richmond chided. "You are far too obvious. Ladies must be more subtle. I will ask you to dance as long as you promise me another poem when we are done. Have we agreement?" she asked in obvious amusement.

[Blackguard]

Francis

 

"There you are," came the shout from George Legge. "Merry Christmas old man." Knowing his nephew's skill at dancing, he offered some brotherly protection. "If you'd like, I'll stand in the way of any lady approaching with dreams of dancing reflected in her eyes." He laughed and offered "I suggest drinking heavily." Already George had a prank in mind for Francis, but was biding his time.

 

Beverley and Mary

 

Prince Rupert had already entered the hall, but had been working his way through holiday greetings and well-wishers. It was then that he saw Beverley and his young wife. He was stopped by the French Ambassador and it did not look as though Cumberland was pleased with the entreaty. He cast his aide a look that called for his rescue. The Marquis de Ruvigney had another man in his company. It appeared that they had more on their mind than holiday wishes.

[Guest]

John and Devonshire

 

“For me and Isaac, yes.” John said. “Less so fuh-for Catherine and Abigail.” Women simply had a smaller window. It was not exactly imminent but John felt he needed to have something more to offer than just their blood and that would take time. John and Isaac probably had a decade stretched before them. And it wouldn’t do to see his sisters matched lowly either. None of the daughters of his family had married less than an earl or an earl’s heir from similarly highly placed families for similar periods of time.

 

There was a tyranny to being from John’s family, great expectations born on the young lord’s broken back. Especially because John was so conscious that, unless he did at least as well, he’d continue to be considered a curse.

 

Then again, successfully playing such marriage and friendship politics was a part of the power of a noble family. The only part he could deal with at the moment, what with how his other designs had fallen apart, been ignored, or been stalled for months.

 

As Devonshire turned to Henry, John gave Devonshire a doubting look. Perhaps if he wasn’t engaged, even as a lecher he was a catch, but he was. Hopefully he would grow out of his lechery, or at least become subtle in it. But Devonshire said nothing. “I d-d-do not know him.” John said of John Burgoyne. It was an invitation rather than condemnation. "Is Ablemarle less...?" John asked, trailing off so he didn't have to say it. "And who for Abby?"

 

But it seemed that Devonshire thought the Queen was a better target now, “With the Queen it’s b-b-better to know how she f-f-feels about Lady Toledo. They used to g-g-get on, being f-f-from the same part of Germany and all. If her majesty isn’t d-d-displeased by the opera, the Lady will help us.” And be relieved, no doubt. Or at least her husband would be.

 

John noted Frances leaving but not to where.

 

OOC: Edited because I forgot something Devonshire had said in the post before. Oops.

[Guest]

Thomas gave the older man who approached him a once over. He cocked an eyebrow when he noticed the plaster that covered the man's nose. He looked a little strange, standing there with his white staff.

 

"You'll never attract a lady with that sort of look young sir."

 

Well, Thomas knew something like that was coming. So much for hiding. He responded the best way he could think of; he gave a snort of derision.

 

"That is the point" he said voice oozing with annoyance. He knew the repercussions of attracting a lady. Dancing, and awkwardness. Awkward dancing. He'd like to keep that away for tonight. He just wanted to drink his fill, and go home. Maybe he'd practice some shooting tomorrow. He shook his head at the thought. "Now's not the time" the voice in his mind spoke.

 

He realized he sounded a bit rude. Of course that was the point, but this older man didn't seem to deserve it. Most people did, but the peculiar appearance of the man made him think otherwise.

 

His face dropped the scowl. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that attitude. I'm just not in the mood for dancing, and playing the game of attraction" he said his voice softer.

[Davina Wellsley]

Davina and her Brother

 

She could not help the look of surprise at his response to her query - thinking that he might have some illness- and so sympathy was at the ready yet the small chuckle that came could not have been helped.

 

"That is an untruth! 'Not know any Ladies at Court' just might be the silliest thing I have heard you say in recent memory! Yet I must admit that all your time of late is in keeping with Mistress Needham so it may prove difficult to partner you."

 

To make him just a bit more desperate she would pray on him a bit longer

 

"Since you have been so Public many assume that you intend to marry her and as such any Lady as yet unwed looking to improve her lot will skip over You my dear brother. But I am moved by this plight you now find yourself in and so will oblige."

 

She executed a small half turn so that they both now faced the crowed Hall and she stood close to his side quietly pointing out suitable candidates that she would approach.

 

"Within my own circle hmm ..... Susan Herbert, Pembroke's young sister, stands just over there and she is affable. I shall NOT pull in Gracen for she would run a merry circle around You, Gentle Alyce I like yet perhaps to easily swayed into Utter Devotion."

 

"I think me you shall have to fish outside the 'Pool' so let us turn in that direction. I see Basildon's cousin Mademoiselle Nicolette she is French with no money other than what He will provide for her. Catherine Sedley also and she is there ... Mayhap one of the Scottish Baron's sisters? They must have some! And there are several daughter's of Dukes as well that I have some acquaintance with."

 

"Now hurry and decide who first Richard as the dance is about to start and I have the Dutch Ambassador. Go out with Courage into the Fray! If you circle about and look sad and lost I am quite sure you will get a partner. And once I am free I shall make my move"

 

"But do not think to have me to this cause the entire night for I too have a keen eye and already began the Hunt for Gentlemen .... I mean to approach Buckingham as well - in return for a Charitable Act I provided!"

 

She reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek then was gone. Perhaps leaving him to wonder just WHAT she might have done for the Duke.

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and the Toledos

 

“Venice does not only stir one's soul. It steals it.” Sophia never tired of talking about the city she loved above all others. Save for the scandal she had caused and her father's disappointment, she only had pleasurable memories of her time there.

 

She wanted to ask Charles if he had seen many operas, and she would once she found out exactly when he had been there. If they had not lived in Venice at the same time, then he would not have heard the young up-and-coming soprano Giuliana Fiore, who had inexplicably disappeared without a trace at the same time Sophia herself left Italy. Not even her husband knew that she had sung publicly for nearly two years in disguise. Only Lord Kingston, her former guardian, and her dear friend Lord Maldon were aware of the double life she had once led.

 

One pale eyebrow quirked upward when the Earl revealed that he had been inspired to creative endeavors while in Venice. “And what did you try?” she asked curiously. “Singing, poetry, painting? Surely you must remember. I dabble in painting myself, but I am not very good at it yet.” She needed to find another art tutor to help her improve her skills.

 

She noticed how he included Esteban in his comment about strong friendships and shared secrets. “I have never heard that said before but I choose to believe it is true.” Her husband had no attachment to Venice. She doubted he had been there or he would have said something about it. Maybe Lord Chatham was a secret supporter of Spain or of Don Juan. With his swarthy complexion, Sophia would not be surprised if at least a small bit of Spanish blood ran through his veins. Or perhaps he had Italian blood. Or a little of both.

 

Esteban, much to her relief, gave Charles permission to dance with her. She had been afraid that he would refuse, even though there was no reason to suspect that the Earl had any romantic interest in her. He had even kept his eye on her face, while the gazes of most gentlemen traveled often to her bosom. And her husband should know she was interested only in his master. Her love for Juan was strong and true, and she would be faithful to him forever.

 

She laughed when he undermined his own dancing skills. Not only was he eloquent, he was witty as well. “Then I shall have done my good deed for the day,” she retorted. “But I suspect that you underestimate yourself, my lord. I look forward to seeing if my suspicions prove true."

[Charles Audley]

Charles and the Toledos

 

Charles had been mistaken for both an Italian and a Spaniard in the past, though to his knowledge the only foreign blood in his family tree was French, and that distant. No, his complexion was simply due to his possession of two most un-English things: the willingness to let himself tan and ready access to the sunshine that would allow him to do so. Perhaps the colour would fade, now that he was back in England.

 

For the moment, though, his cheeks remained bronzed, though close observation might reveal an uncharacteristic hint of red as Sophia asked after his creative endeavours.

 

"Poetry, my lady, if I can be forgiven my effrontery in calling it that. Schoolboy work and, as I said, not worth the effort of remembering. I fear I had, and have, no sense of metre."

 

Charles nodded in thanks as Toledo gave his permission, doing his best to convey through body language that his intentions were honourable and strictly platonic. Not for the first time, he considered whether he should be more taciturn and restrained in speech. His exuberant verbosity tended to give people the wrong idea (and more often the right one, which was even more troublesome). Once again, he rejected the notion.

 

"Hmm. It seems we are to await the arrival of their Majesties before the dance begins. Prerogative of princes, I suppose. In the meantime, my lady, it occurs to me that we have perhaps monopolised the conversation a tad." Charles turned to Toledo, an open, friendly smile on his face. "So, your excellency, while we wait, perhaps you might tell me a little of Toledo? I have visited Madrid briefly, but saw little else of your country."

[Catriona MacGregor]

Catriona and Rochester

 

One brow rose as mischief danced in Cat's sapphire eyes. "Come now," she cajoled when it seemed that he might try to be good. It was Christmas, after all, a time for fun and frivolity. And if they were smart about it, then who could say they were up to mischief?

 

Happily, he returned to his usual wicked self. With a grin, she lowered her voice before saying, "An excellent resolution. Give me your arm so that we might meander in Her direction. Then, once it looks like she has her target in site and she is under the mistletoe, I shall snag her desired partner while you gain a holiday kiss of peace." And who could say no to a kiss of peace. Why, it would be down right rude and the Queen, who still hadn't presented the King with a hint of an heir wouldn't want to upset the party, now would she?