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

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

Was that a cleverly concealed compliment or did Lord Chatham truly admire her husband's devotion to his country? Whatever the case, Sophia blushed again and smiled up at him shyly. “I suppose it does. He has only been Spain's Ambassador for a couple of months and he needs to establish connections and make allies.” She sighed sadly. “His duties to his country must always come first.”

 

Was she coming across as an unhappy and neglected wife? She hoped so. In truth, she didn't care what Esteban did as long as he didn't restrict her freedom or demand that she tell him what she had done every day. Sophia doubted he would have approved of her adventure at Bedlam this afternoon, although he might have been pleased that she was friends with the Duchess of Buccleuch.

 

Her blush deepened at his praise. “Thank you, my lord.” If he speaks to other ladies the way he speaks with me, they will be falling at his feet and he will be one of the most popular gentlemen at court. He had certainly charmed her and she felt blessed that he chose to remain in her company. “I shall lay flowers at the feet of their statues to thank them for their generosity. Have you been to the gardens yet? There are statues of all the muses there.”

 

They approached a refreshment table that was surprisingly uncrowded. “I confess I do not know much about wines. Perhaps you can recommend one that you think I will like?” The young Baroness was definitely not a wine connoisseur. Usually, she just asked for a glass of wine and drank whatever was given to her.

 

He asked her about Venice then, and she smiled, swirling the liquid around in her glass before taking a sip. “I believe it did. I moved to Venice in 1672 and left in September of 1676. Did you attend any operas while you were there?” Her eyes scanned the room briefly, looking for the Earl of Arundel, whom Esteban wished her to dance with, and then returned to her delightful companion.

[Ambrose Turnbull]

Ambrose and Rochester

 

Topping his own cup then, the Lieutenant set the bottle on a nearby stand (for ease of access), "It's thinking like that..." he paused searching for a socially acceptable comment to the lazy and self-indulgent attitude. "... that's brought the world to England's door step." leaning in a bit closer he made comment, "I'd not expected quite so many foreigners about."

 

They were having a good laugh, Rochester seemed a man happy to take life 'with a pinch of'. "Aha, you think my potty mouth would represent our theater bound Partridge well eh?!" Ambrose accused with a chortle, "that perhaps our feathery friend was raised about ship rather than brothel?! Ha - your play (well Sedley's) sounds a great bit of sport. But the lead role might be a bullet to the head, reputation wise. That neat little tart O'Roarke acuses me of having no class as it is."

 

Still, contemplating the idea was some fun. Inspiring even.

 

"There once was a Pear-tree-partridge from God-knows-where

but Anglican surely, note it's efforts reciting the lords prayer

shit fuck bitch cunt

arse sod piss - runt

all said with the eloquence of the kings finest - legionnaire."

 

"Ha, yes perhaps I'll audition!" he laughed, raising his glass to Rochester.

 

"Plato huh, that's you artists types, love to think. But what manner of wisdom shall Plato the Parrot spew out. Ha, there is a few people round court that might well do with some I'd think."

[Charles Audley]

Charles and Sophia

 

"The gardens? No, I have not visited yet. I shall have to take a turn about them." He smiled self-mockingly. "Perhaps if I bring a sufficiently grand offering, Calliope will finally grace me with her favour." An overwrought sigh and a bow of the head. "'Tis a hard thing, to have one's suit so consistently and cruelly rejected." He held the melodramatic pose for a moment before dissolving into laughter.

 

Charles smiled softly as Sophia confessed her ignorance of wines. He leaned in and lowered his voice.

 

"In truth, my lady, I am no connoisseur. I merely learned to play at it on the Continent." He clicked his tongue and shook his head, smiling ruefully. "You are dangerous indeed, Lady Toledo. At this rate, you shall uncover all my secrets before night's end. That aside, do try the Rhenish. They tend to be sweet and not so strong."

 

As they savoured their wine, Charles let his gaze wander about the hall, idly taking note of the location of any sprigs of mistletoe. Not with any real intent, merely learning the lie of the land. He also kept half an eye out for John Churchill. He wanted to see if his friend remembered anything of what they had gotten up to the previous night.

 

Wine sampled, the conversation turned back to Venice. There had been some overlap in their visits to the city after all. Charles shook his head in wonderment.

 

"It makes one wonder, doesn't it? How many others are there here, whose paths we have paralleled but never crossed?"

 

Oh come now. Shall we seek deeper meaning in every coincidence?

Charles was saved from further philosophising by Sophia's question. Unfortunately, it was something of an awkward one. Charles had spent almost the entirety of his time in Venice out of his mind on opium and alcohol. When he had finally come down, the cumulative hangover had come within an ace of killing him. His memories, naturally, were somewhat spotty. Still, he did have one or two fragmented recollections.

 

Just pray she doesn't ask any further questions.

"I had the fortune to attend Giasone in the Teatro di San Cassiano. A magnificent performance. Cavalli was a genius."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and Frances

 

Douglas enjoyed dancing, particularly the more vigorous country dances, and even more so in pleasant company. His smile remained as he and the Duchess of Richmond left the floor. She was an impressively accomplished dancer and it was always a joy to partner with someone so skilled. Plus there was the added benefit of knowing she made him look good. He could only hope that he had managed to return the favour and she enjoyed herself as well, but then that was generally the hope of any gentleman who engaged in vigorous activity with a lady.

 

“Thank ye Yer Grace, fer a mos’ enjoyable dance.”* He said as they reached the edge of the dancing and Douglas deftly piloted two glasses of punch from a servant’s tray, offering one to Richmond with a slight bow. He had conveniently paused beneath a sprig of mistletoe, seemingly coincidental with the drinks-bearing servant.

 

He hadn’t forgotten their arrangement, and indeed as they had waited for the music to start he had pondered possible subjects until he recalled a similar promise to Fiona. Why not kill two birds with one stone? As he took a swallow of the punch the last words slipped into place in his mind, and he gestured with his glass at a pair across the hall.

 

“D’ye see whaur a certain Earl plots wi’ a member o’ the Life Guard?”** He asked quietly, cornflower gaze flicking from Frances’ to where Rochester was speaking with Ambrose. The former was his target.

 

“Absent frae bed an’ frae table

Lang pas’ the Libertine label.

He cannae sin hence,

Sae resorts tae offence;

Neither flesh nor the spirit is able.”

 

Subtitles

* “Thank you Your Grace, for a most enjoyable dance.”

** “Do you see where a certain Earl plots with a member of the Life Guard?”

*** “Absent from bed and from table

Long past the Libertine label

He cannot sin hence,

So resorts to offence;

Neither flesh nor the spirit is able.”

[Catriona MacGregor]

Catriona and Peregrin

 

It had been completely random, her choice in dance partner, but it turned out fine. Smiling at Peregrin as he led her from the floor, she gave him a slightly wicked look before replying. "Oh, I am certain you could be of assistance in many different ways, milord, but I think the dance was all I needed this evening. Couldn't start the evening with a less than stellar partner. And with all I hear about you, I knew you'd be the best choice. I do appreciate you saying yes." Lashes fluttering was not her style, but a saucy wink never went wrong.

[Aria]

Charles and Susan

 

Susan took Charles' arm and let him escort her back into the crowd. It would have been easy to step beneath another another sprig of mistletoe but he had already kissed her once. No matter how much she wanted him to kiss her again, she didn't want to raise suspicions. As one of the Queen's maids of honor, her reputation had to be flawless and she certainly didn't want any malicious gossip circulating about her.

 

“I want to search the archives of the palace library for lists of the ladies-in-waiting to former Queens.” She kept her voice low so that they wouldn't be overheard. “The Swan was probably one of them and maybe there is mention of a lady who mysteriously disappeared. However, I don't know how to ask the librarian to let me see the records, if there are any. I can't say the Queen is interested because if she is asked why she sent me there, she will question me about it. But I cannot think of another plausible excuse.”

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

“The gardens are beautiful in the spring and summer, but even now there are many things to do and see there. It is one of my favorite places.” His melodramatic reaction to being rejected by Calliope made Sophia laugh. “Perhaps you will become a renowned poet if you present her with an offering. You have already been blessed by Polyhymnia.” How well did he know his myths, she wondered? Polyhymnia was not just the muse of sacred poetry and hymns. She was also the muse of eloquence, a trait Lord Chatham possessed in spades.

 

The young Ambassadress chuckled again when he claimed she was dangerous. Now it was her turn to be theatrical and she sighed melodramatically. “Woe is me, my lord! You have discovered my evil plan to expose all of your secrets!” She leaned toward him conspiratorially and added in a whisper: “But is not danger exciting and impossible to resist?”

 

Turning back toward the refreshment table, she took the glass of wine the servant handed to her and brought it to her lips for a dainty sip. “It is quite delicious. Even if you are not a connoisseur, you know much more about wine that I do. It is not a subject I have ever given much thought.” Milk was Sophia's beverage of choice, and she had rarely drunk wine before she had arrived in London and debuted at court last spring.

 

“I do wonder that sometimes,” she admitted. Mostly, her pondering was out of fear that her own secret would be uncovered and that it would cause another scandal, ruin her reputation, and dishonor her husband. She had more to lose now than she had last year, and she didn't want to drag Esteban down into the gutter with her, Hopefully, that deep dark secret would be carried to her grave and no one would ever learn of her illicit venture into the opera culture of Venice. “I'm sure there are other courtiers who visited Venice during the four years I was there, especially during Carnivale. I might have accidentally bumped into a few of them.” She smiled playfully. “Maybe I even bumped into you.”

 

Sophia let out the breath that she had not realized she had been holding when he revealed that he had seen Giasone. She had not sung in that opera, but it had been the first one she had attended when she first arrived in Venice. Only eleven, she had been utterly entranced and she had seen it several times during her stay in Italy. “You picked one of the best. I do adore Giasone. I learned a few of the arias as part of my training, as well as many others from Cavalli's operas. Last night was my first time singing opera in the English language. I usually sing in Italian and German.”

 

Again, she scanned the room for the Earl of Arundel. While she did want to claim his next dance, she was perfectly content to remain in the charming company of Charles until she spotted him. “Do you speak Italian, my lord?”

[Charles Audley]

Charles and Sophia

 

Is there any conversational partner as pleasant as an erudite woman?

 

Charles chuckled appreciatively at the compliment.

 

"Careful, my lady, or you shall make me blush, and I can't manage that half so becomingly as you."

 

It was surprisingly pleasant, Charles reflected, simply to converse with a beautiful woman with no intent other than to wile away the time. Oh, he was tempted, certainly- she was frankly stunning and last night's performance had to come from somewhere- but cuckolding a Spaniard was an excellent way to end up in a duel and that was a scandal Charles emphatically did not need. Then she leaned in to whisper to him and he found himself tempted to act on his temptation. Unconsciously, he leaned in slightly himself and smirked wolfishly.

 

"Oh, indeed it is. Would you think less of me if I admitted to making use of that fact?"

 

He tapped a finger on the bold carmine of his eye patch.

 

Oh, spare me. Your self-control is a thin reed indeed.

Charles straightened smoothly but swiftly and laughed.

 

"That's another secret I've revealed. You are truly a formidable weapon in Spain's diplomatic arsenal. I shall concede myself bested."

 

Say this for Charles Audley. Say he's almost as good at getting out of trouble as he is at getting into it.

Fortunately, talk of wine and Venice provided an escape. Silently Charles blessed whatever impulse had led him to attend Giasone.

 

Opera in German, though? I suppose I should hear before judging but...

 

He was drawn from his uncharitable thoughts on the German language by Sophia's question on a language Charles considered to be infinitely lovelier.

 

"Non così come ho fatto una volta.*" Charles winced. "My accent is more horrific than ever it would seem. And you, my lady? I take it you are a linguist as well as a singer, a dancer and diplomat extraordinaire."

 

A stray thought struck him.

 

"Hmm. I beg your pardon for the sudden shift in topic, but do you keep pets my lady? I ask because one of his Majesty's spaniels pupped this morning and, by dint of skill, courage and immense good fortune, I have obtained some small say in the matter of their dispersal."

 

 

 

(OOC: *Not so well as I once did. (According to Babelfish.))

[Francis Kirke]

Francis & George

 

"Since when was mediocre some level of skill?" Francis asked, with a chortle and a huff-like snort. "I am not drunk enough for you to encourage me into any follies; though if you think it so simple, might I inquire of your cups?" He grinned some and then rolled his eyes.

 

"I'Faith, I should not feel eager for any dance with any particular lady." He did not particularly either. The younger blond had never had a love, let alone one that threatened to have any constancy. Nor lover, nor mistress.

 

In fact, the only thing close to such a thing was an Italian courtesan, so that likely said much for Francis' taste in constancy.

 

"If I did, there is a far simpler way of trying to gain a lady's query than sending you as an intermediary!"

[Blackguard]

John

 

He did not know that Devonshire had been so kind to Maldon. It made the man seem even more noble. The only response was a nod of understanding as Ablemarle continued to scan the chamber.

 

As for getting a dance partner, Chris was not going to have some new acqiuaintance with a weak leg and a stutter go in search for him. "We did not know until we arrived that it was to be ladies choice. So, it is only natural that all of us our left to the whim of ladies. It might well be the case that it shall take several dances before some ladies muster the courage to ask someone they are not wed to or related to." He seemed content in a stoic way. "I am more interested in observing which ladies ask which other gentlemen," he mumbled as he turned to get a better look at those behind.

 

Douglas

 

"My pleasure," came the polite reply, "and thank you too." She waved off the drink as she was determined to stay sober a while longer. If she saw the mistletoe, she made no show of it, never ventured a gaze upward.

 

His poem caused a childish smile as she looked towards the pair indicated. "Rochester is such an easy target." She was not so sure the point of the poem, but it rhymed nicely. "Well done Captain," she complimented. "Has he said something insulting to you too," she teased.

 

"Now I must beg my leave so that I might secure my next dance partner while the other ladies are resting." She laughed at her own jest. "Have a good evening and a happy Christmas." With that she was ready to take her leave. She had seen Francis standing with Legge and she felt inclined to join them.

 

Ambrose and Rochester

 

"Whitehall is a den of iniquity so why would it not attract foreigners far and wide/" Rochester teased in reply. "A navy bird then. That makes sense, hence the salty talk," the Earl played along.

 

As for the play, Rochester was starting to seriously contemplate such a production, to the extent he ever considered anything seriously anymore. "If selected as the Lord of Misrule, I shall definitely produce such a play. Perhaps the King can be a Plato pupil," he mused aloud. "What is the secret to life wise Plato he might ask. Fuck, fuck, fuck the Plato Partridge would reply. The King would reply if that's the secret then I've mastered life already." He laughed at the thought. "I would be watching the Queen's face. It would be priceless. Maybe she could ask the same question and get the same answer." It would be clear that the play was being written in his head at that very moment.

 

The limerick caughtthe Earl by surprise. "Auditioning for a part after all. Good man. A good effort," he judged. "If Dorset were here, he'd take you aside for a limerick challenge.

 

"The wisdom," he reiterated, "is fucking. It is what gives life, gives pleasure, sin, experience, and danger. But, I do not want to ruin the end of a good play in the making. I think I need more punch, but with something strong." Turning to a servant he ordered "a bottle of rum and a cup of punch if you please." Turning back to Ambrose he announced "that is the proper portion."

 

Catriona and Peregrine

 

"You heard about me and still wanted to dance with me?" Danby's son played along. "You do know that I am not my father, or my older brother for that matter. Stellar am I? Well, I should like to find my father and have you repeat that to him," he laughed. "I can only hope that I did not disappoint." Frankly, he had thought that Cat's younger sister would be the one to approach him. They both suffered from a certain reputation.

 

"If not this evening then, I do hope that you will call upon me if I can be of service. Perhaps a holiday kiss in passing?" he asked, though realized, upon checking, that the mistletoe was about 15 feet away.

 

Francis and George

 

"Mediocre is a level, right below passible I think," George laughed. "Though higher than an embarrassment, where you've been for so many years."

 

"If you are not drunk enough to engage in some folly then we shall have to remedy that," he laughed as he flagged a servant. "None of the punch. Two Irish or Scottish whiskeys and bring it quickly," he commanded.

 

"Come now, there must be a lady that strikes your fancy that you can attract with an alluring glance. Every lady in the realm is here. I heard there is some Swedish princess even, or maybe she's some German chit." It was clear that George had started imbibing early. It was Christmas after all. "Perhaps I will go in search of just the right one for you." He looked serious.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and Richmond

 

The refused drink left Douglas in a bit of a quandary, but he solved it by shoving into the hands of the next servant that passed.

 

Was Rochester an easy target? He seemed a risky target, as he at least had the wit to bite back, unlike some others he'd considered lampooning. Still, the man's faults were many so perhaps from a certain point of view she was right. "Le's jus' say that he accepted an' invitation frae a lairdy, then cuidnae 'rise' tae th'occaision."* He revealed, as Richmond asked if the man had insulted him. He'd been trying to imply with his poem that Rochester was impotent, both in flesh and in imagination.

 

See? That's why I don't bother being subtle. Straightforward is much more effective. Just usually less well received.

 

Frances begged her leave of him, and Douglas followed her gaze to a pair of men lingering at the edges, neither of whom had danced. "Acoorse Yer Grace, best o' luck fer yer hunt." He wished her with a bow and a smile. "Nae fareweel kiss tae leave me wantin' more?"** He added, with a flick of cornflower blue eyes upwards. Their agreement had been a dance and a kiss for a poem now and a poem at the time of her choosing.

 

Subtitles

* "Lets just say that he accepted an invitation from a Lady, then couldn't 'rise' to the occaision."

** "Of course Your Grace, best of luck for your hunt. No farewell kiss to leave me wanting more?"

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

“And you have discovered yet another of my goals,” she intoned mysteriously, “to make you blush.” Another splash of color rose beneath her porcelain cheeks at his compliment. “Perhaps I should take lessons from you. You seem to be an expert at it.”

 

Sophia couldn't deny that she was attracted to him. His eye patch gave him a rakish look, and she had always been drawn to danger. His eloquent words made her feel beautiful and adored. However, she was completely devoted to her royal lover and would never betray him, no matter how much she was tempted.

 

A bright little thrill rippled down her spine when he leaned closer to her and admitted that he, like her, found danger impossible to resist. When he pointed to his eye patch, she wondered if he had lost his eye in a duel. “Oh no,” she breathed, “I think more highly of you. You are not the only one who loves adventure and excitement.”

 

Maybe I should leave before I push him under another sprig of mistletoe.

 

He straightened up, and Sophia self-consciously smoothed her skirts, hoping he could not read her thoughts in her expression. “Before I am done with you, you will reveal them all,” she promised with a playful grin. “Now you know why my lord husband married me.”

 

It was only because she was skilled in acting that Sophia stopped herself from flinching when he spoke Italian. “You just need practice,” she assured him. “I speak it fluently, so if you would like to improve your Italian, I will be happy to help. I very rarely have an opportunity to speak it now. The only other language I am fluent in is my native German, but I am learning Spanish and French.”

 

She was about to ask him if he spoke any other languages when he suddenly inquired as to whether she had any pets. Her eyes widened when he explained that he would have a say over who would get the puppies of one of the King's spaniels. How had he managed that? “Actually, I have a monkey, four cats, a bird, and a horse. I've been thinking of adding a puppy to my menagerie, and I do love His Majesty's spaniels. They are so adorable. If you would put my name forward, I would be forever grateful.”

[Guest]

Thomas and Fiona

 

The dance had ended and Fiona had offered Thomas a chance to stay in her company. He was surprised, he though his dancing might have frightened her off. He wasn't about to bugger this up.

 

"I'd love to join you madam." Thomas said as he gave her bright smile.

 

As he took her arm, he began to search the room for the closest sprig of mistletoe, so that he might guide them over to one.

[Ambrose Turnbull]

Ambrose and Rochester

 

"A den, I'll give you that - but Iniquity I'm yet to see any of. The women seem all prudes. Look at them all avoiding such an alluring pair as we make; why I can almost hear their vaginas screaming as they simper saucily away." At which point Ambrose laughed, having amused himself at least with that train of thought.

 

"Yes a salty bird, with wisdom gained from the four corners of the earth. Ha, but perhaps extend it's vocabulary some what." for even to this sea dog, replying to a theatrical queen 'fuck fuck fuck' was a step too far. His un-named companion was probably just winding though, could not have been serious of that. "Ha ha, it would be a hilarious skit, and what of the moral? For what plays I have sat at always come with a final twist. Shall the final scene be a supper, and on the menu Partridge? Or some other - ah but you are a man of rare vision, how would your master piece be completed!"

 

"Dorset, he is a man acquainted with the gutters finest artform? Ah, but do not tell him of my efforts, you shall put me to blush." Ambrose snickered with modesty's pretense.

 

"Yes, punch." Ambrose agreed, and simply enough supplied the correct answer to Rochester's question: "All of it. We men of Whitehall always give 100%"

[Charles Audley]

Charles and Sophia

 

"I have something of an unfair advantage in that regard my lady. Your gifts and virtues are plainly seen and thus easily complimented. My own gifts are... -not discussed in polite society- less obvious and as for my virtues? Well..." Charles trailed off with a waggle of his eyebrows.

 

Her closeness was a heady sensation, almost intoxicating. There was a brief moment, it seemed to him, where both acknowledged the attraction before coming to their senses and drawing apart, Charles taking refuge in his wine and Sophia in smoothing her skirts.

 

If there is a God, the bastard has a sense of humour altogether too similar to my own.

 

Thankfully, they both played the game too well for there to be any lingering awkwardness. The conversation flowed smoothly onward to languages, via wine and Venice. Sophia was far too good a courtier to show any reaction to the earl's attempt at Italian. He knew his accent to be atrocious and wasn't entirely certain of his grammar, either. It was a lovely language, and Charles couldn't help but feel his efforts sullied it somehow. He nodded gratefully in reply.

 

"A most gracious offer, my lady. In recompense for suffering through my butchering of the loveliest language on earth, I could help you with French. I'm much more comfortable in French than I am in Italian, I assure you."

 

Perhaps it was the thought of such an exchange that prompted him to bring up the matter of the spaniel puppies. Sophia's reaction seemed to confirm that it was the right tack.

She keeps a veritable menagerie, it would seem. Including a bloody monkey, of all things.

 

"Excellent. There are six pups in total and his Majesty has asked me to prepare a list of, and I quote, "only the most worthwhile of ladies," for his perusal. Your name shall feature prominently." Charles smiled. "My influence ends there but I cannot imagine his Majesty disagreeing with my judgement of you."

 

Charles sipped at his wine and was reminded of the fact that he had not eaten in some hours.

 

"Now, I feel the need for some cake my lady. Will you join me, so I feel less of a pig?"

[Guest]

John and Ablemarle

 

“As you w-w-wish.” John said. Both his family and friends were disproportionately women. So were his acquaintances, when he thought of it. And despite his refusal, if one of them lacked a partner Ablemarle might find himself volunteered.

 

“True.” John said of his analysis. John had no experience with asking people to dance, but it sounded nerve wracking. He felt a little worse for those he’d turned down, though not as bad as he’d have felt if he’d said yes.

 

“Are you interested in anyone in p-p-particular?” John asked. He turned to look himself. Sophia was now dancing with that fellow he didn’t recognize. Caroline and Ogle were together. He tried to see how his sister and Burgoyne were making out, though he was also waiting on the return of the orange brandy.

[Raconteur]

Ellen Approaches Ambrose and Rochester

 

Her Father had wasted no time in between glasses to speak his mind regarding the Night's Events and how it would please him for her to 'Circuate' and she, anxious to escape, had complied willingly.

 

Now however once on her own it was a different story.

 

She 'knew' few Courtiers and even less Gentlemen and those of her acquaintance that were in attendance she had managed to aquire a dance ot two with an easy Grace and quick smiles for they were all used to seeing her about her fathers' Business.

 

She had managed to find a portion of the wall unused and it was then that she spied a familier face .... it was the Solider that had helped her at the water landing at the Theatre and to whom some conversation had been exchanged. She had looked for him on leaving but had failed to see him.

 

He stood there in conversation with a face she knew - all did - that of Rochester and bit her lip in thought. Would he recall her if she 'happened' to past within sight of him and would he be receeptive of her request if she was Brave enough to make it?

 

Walking slowly in that direction her face took on that of one looking for another and she let her gaze go to where the two men stood - if he should happen to look that way he would no doubt be as surprised as she to see him - all by chance naturally.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Catriona and Peregrine

 

Oh, it was certain that Cat had been lying when she said she had heard about him, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt. Besides, she was no stranger to gossip and how it could be twisted and turned so far from the truth that not a shred remained. "If I had wanted to dance with your father or brother, I would have asked them," she replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "Though, if I headed towards your father, he might have run the other way. So it is probably a good thing that I wished you to partner me." Then again, the King's mistress (though it was anyone's guess if she still held such a position, with as infrequently as she saw her daughter's father) was not one to be uninteresting to politicians who wanted more access to the King.

 

Giving him a sly look, she peered upwards and found the mistletoe well out of range. "You may rest assured that should I ever be in need of your service, I will call," she flirted then tapped her lips as she contemplated the option of a kiss. Hell, it was the holidays. So, she figured there was no harm in it. Leaning in, her hand resting on his chest, she aimed for just a quick brush of her lips to just the side of his and a murmured "Happy Christmas," before pulling back. She then planned to look for her next partner.

[Davina Wellsley]

Davina and A Duke

 

She thanked the Ambassador with a nice smile and reverence as he led her away from the dancing and back into the throng of Guests.

 

Her eyes went to the Queen and she stilled as she watched and looked to those that attended for she was not part of that entourage but that could always change and she had made sure to tell one of the Senior Ladies that hovered by the Queen to send for her if she was needed.

 

She hoped that her Mistress would not dance but then to not do so would only cause more talk and suspicion - far better that some announcement be made Tonight - and put an end to all the speculations!

 

Her attention turned to her next 'mission'.

 

He was surrounded by the Women of his Family and knew the meaning for it - they were a hard Group and would not surrended Him up to just anyone. But she was confident. She had after all done as he'd asked that day in the Gardens and so did she not deserve Thanks? And there was another with that group - was Basildon being 'protected' as well?

 

A sudden memory of the Caravan at Windsor and how he had 'flirted' with her or so she thinks and would he too be receptive? Harmless fun after all yet she knew well the under-tones that ran thru everything at Whitehall.

 

It was but one dance after all ....

 

She was in no rush for twas crowded as dancers returned and new partners were sought but eventually drew close enough where the Duke could not help but notice her - if he chose to that was - but she doubted he would so pubically snub her

 

"Good evening Your Grace and I hope You are Well?"

 

Her curtsey was perfect, as was her manner of Address, her blue eyes were fixed on his as she held her reverance waiting till he gave her leave to rise.

 

Once that happened she would offer her greetings to his Sister first then the Dowager and the other ladies then Basildon. As for the rest well it would be made up as she went!

[Blackguard]

Douglas and Frances

 

When the tall Scot mentioned the farewell kiss, Frances paused her exit. "Quite right," she replied as she recalled her promise. Standing on her tippy toes, she looked to give the tall Scot a holiday kiss. "Happy Christmas Captain, and thank you for the poetry. It was a welcome addition." With a winsome smile she was off, on her way to happen across a Kirk and a Legge.

 

Ambrose and Rochester

 

What an unusual find, Rochester thought to himself. The man was positively vulgar, though he exhibited a certain charm. "Perhaps a good many are prudish, but what if they do not find us suitable company? I have a certain reputation after all, none of it good. And as for salty talk, I find that ladies prefer it more in bed than a ballroom. So, perhaps we might compose poetry about snowflakes and angels. That is sure to attract a few that overhear us," Rochester jested as he looked about. In the distance he saw Ellen Doolittle approaching. He knew her just barely, but she had a reputation as well. She must be desperate if she approaches me and anyone in my company.

 

"The moral of the play," Johnny quipped quickly "is that anyone who seeks wisdom from a partridge deserves what he gets." Ellen was drawing closer. "Your mention of Dorset has attracted a female. He has a way with women," he teased.

 

Ellen Happens By

 

"Ah Miss Doolittle," Rochester beckoned to her. "Don't be shy. You are here no doubt to ask this gentleman to dance. I can recommend that he is a fine judge of eyes. I was just heading off in search of punch and pastry. Don't mind me. You two have fun. Ask him for a limerick while you are at it." With luck, the Earl had made Ambrose uncomfortable. It was such a pleasant feeling for Johnny.

 

With that, he was off. Some would say that he had been off for years."

 

John and Ablemarle

 

"Anyone in particular," the Duke mumbled absent-mindedly. He had no intention of revealing the ladies that caught his fancy. Instead, he thought to have a bit of fun with the over serious Cavendish lord. "Why the ones with the biggest bosoms of course. Even on cold nights they wear low cut bodices, and make sure they hang a pendant just so ... so it drapes just right on the swell. If you enjoy the view, you are a pig. If you do not look, they are insulted. The key is to dance in such a way as to enjoy the view when they are off guard in their movement." It was advice that he had bestowed to his brother-in-law, Lord Ogle, but the lad was too obvious with his stares. He just needed more experience.

 

The servant returned with hastened steps, open bottle in hand. "This is the only one I could find. It's near empty I'm afraid."

 

"Well, that is not good enough," Chris barked. He turned to see what John might add. If John looked, he might see Catherine give a holiday kiss to Burgoyne as they paused beneath the mistletoe a good distance away.

 

Catriona

 

Amused by her playfulness, Peregrine revealed "I have moved to a room in Saint Marks, just to get away from my family. If you have need of me, you can contact me there." Was she offering some rendezvous? He hoped so, though many would warn he would be playing with fire thereby.

 

The kiss was received and delivered. "Happy Christmas Lady Alyth. Happy hunting." With that, he released her, thinking he might circle back to her later in the evening.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles and Susan

 

While no mastermind of intrigue, Charles had an idea to solve Susan's dilemma. "Tell Mister Potts that you are doing research on ladies in waiting on the Queen because you want to learn how to be better in serving Her Highness. It seems perfectly natural to me that you might want to research your predecessors. It would be no different if I sought a text about commanders of the Life Guard. There would be nothing suspicious about it. rather, it would reflect well on me I should think." Just in case she was still hesitant, he offered his assistance. "I could seek the books myself, but I think that would raise questions more ... unless I said I was conducting a confidential investigation."

 

Langdon spoke hastily and as quietly as he could and still be heard by Susan Herbert. So far, no one interrupted them. He supposed that was good, though he kept an eye out for Susan's eldest brother. With luck the man would be on the other side of the hall.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and Frances

 

So she’d simply been distracted by thoughts of her next quarry; he could appreciate that. Bending so that Frances need not stretch herself over much Douglas matched her holiday kiss, a brief, chaste press of the lips. “Merry Christmas tae ye as weel, Yer Grace. I’m pleased I cuid surprise ye.” *

 

He turned a leg and bowed as she turned to go, and watched for a moment as she headed off in the direction of Francis and his kinsman. Then he turned and went in persuit of more buttered beer and cake, having decided that the punch wasn’t to his taste.

 

Douglas people watching

 

He pondered that he owed Richmond a poem, and wondered what might appeal to her fancy. So Rochester was too easy a target, but clearly she cared most for what people said about other people. Who might be a more challenging target? He couldn’t help but think of the direction in which she’d left. Hmm…

 

No doubt he would have time to think about it. For now he paused to eat his cake and looked around the room, noting the presence of those he’d not crossed paths with yet. Was that Catriona in the distance? So the girls had made it then. He didn’t know the man on her arm nor, as he looked in another direction, the one on Fiona’s . Interesting. He couldn’t see Shona; perhaps she’d begged off.

 

Whilst he’d chosen to eschew his uniform this evening, others hadn’t. Lightning Langdon spoke with Susan Herbert; there was a man with an eye for young ladies. Douglas could appreciate his taste. But in the other direction was a uniform he recognised on a man he didn’t (Ambrose), talking with Rochester. A new addition presumably; perhaps he’d find out who later.

 

Yet even as he watched the pair was approached by a young woman he knew vaguely by sight, though had avoided so far; Ellen Doolittle. Ever on the hunt for a man with a title. Once, Douglas would have scoffed at the very idea, yet Melville had married a Doolittle. Mind you, people still laughed about it occasionally. There was a stain associated with marrying a commoner, but then there was one associated with being a bastard so perhaps it couldn’t get any worse. Beatrice would be a better prospect – both nobility and well dowered – if he could find some way of removing Balcarres from the equation. He wondered vaguely whether the man was here tonight.

 

Finishing his cake, Douglas decided there was nothing for it. He would have to face up to family duties.

 

Douglas approaching Cat and Peregrine

 

“Cat, I’m pleased tae see ye made it.” Douglas observed as he approached the pair. “Yer pardon my Laird.” He added to Peregrine as he leaned in to give his sister a peck on the cheek. "I haena seen my sister in a wee while."** What with the roads the way they had been, he’d been worried the girls would get stuck. The trip from Lochend wasn’t the easiest.

 

Subtitles

* “Merry Christmas to you as well, Your Grace. I’m pleased I could surprise you.”

** “Cat, I’m pleased to see you made it. Your pardon my Lord. I haven't seen my sister in a little while.”

[Catriona MacGregor]

Catriona, Peregrin with Douglas approaching

 

Cat was surprised to find her flirting skills weren't as rusty as she had thought, seeing how quickly her companion was to give her his directions. "I shall keep that in mind, milord," she replied, though the likelihood of her following up was slim. Especially since he was living in St. Marks, a location she had spent very little time in.

 

She was about to wish him happy hunting as well when her brother arrived. Turning towards her elder brother, she gave him her cheek for the kiss before answering. "I am glad we made it, as well. We were supposed to be in London a week earlier, but between the roads and a broken axle, it was looking almost a doomed expedition. But, you know MacBain stubbornness," she said with a smile and a Gaelic shrug. Winding her arm through Douglas's, she turned the smile on Peregrin. "I hope you will excuse us. I need to have a word with my brother. Happy Christmas," she added before tugging on Douglas's arm to pull them away from her dance partner. Douglas might notice that there was a laughing light in her eyes.

[Guest]

John with Ablemarle

 

“Mmm.” John acknowledged the sentiment. John wasn’t so much serious as sullen. There was a lack of energy about him, like a man suffering from melancholy (as indeed John did). He finally began to eat the plate he'd been holding when he sensed a lull in conversation.

 

“Huh.” John said to his advice. It was a revelation but John’s sexuality was almost entirely dormant. John simply began to wonder if he’d insulted anyone by not staring at their bosoms. He didn’t think he ever had stared, except for Nicolette, and he was now struggling to remember who had the largest chest of his friends.

 

Probably Nicolette. John settled on the only person whose breasts he’d really taken notice of.

 

“Lord Ogle m-m-might use your advice. His p-p-partner is a merry widow, but I think he’s totally disgusted her.” John sighed. He gestured the mostly empty bottle was Ablemarle’s, if he wanted it. “Lady Kendishal.” John supplied the name.

 

John noted with some pleasure that Catherine was at least playing along with the evening. He was less worried about Abigail in that regard, though more worried in others… His brother he felt was more capable of taking care of himself.

 

By the book, that was quick. John thought as the dance ended. At any rate, he had some further business with Ogle now. If he wanted a woman who loved to be stared at and would sleep with him on the first dance, John thought he had a candidate…

 

“Speaking of, I n-n-need to go clean that up. Any interest in rescuing Lady Kendishal?” John asked. There was a bit of hope in his voice. Anyone who could write a treatise on sneaking peeks at breasts obviously had some libertine credentials and he knew that was what Caroline was looking for. Either way, John would be going over once he saw Caroline and Ogle leaving the dance floor.

[Defiance]

The King, Herbert, & Ashburnham

 

His Majesty had been in quite the playful mood as of late, bolstered some by the time of the year but also due to his wife's pregnancy. Sometime after the first dance, some might begin to notice that His Majesty just seemed to appear! There had been no announcement of them. He was accompanied by Herbert and Ashburnham, the two nearly black-haired young men, who looked as if they could be related; in truth, far cousins, but two of few of the Villiers relatives to have dark hair, although they were relatively tall.

 

Both gentlemen were unmarried, godsons of the King and prime catches of court. Both were handsome and without any social defect, unless Johnny's ego or Herbert's romanticism were counted. John would be rich and hold a lucrative monopoly on his great-uncle's death and very likely to receive a title shortly after his majority. Herbert, with his brother's penchant for death and the macabre, could very easily be left with two incredibly rich earldoms and a slew of secondary titles.

 

The King had been quite up to something, to be sure, and he was still up to something, judging by the twinkle in his eyes. Of course, he had been curious which ladies would ask which gentlemen to dance and also which gentlemen would attempt to thwart the idea of ladies' choice, both for different reasons. He wished to see who ladies would go to for a very good reason. Also, their choice in approach, in how to ask a man.

 

The small group of dark-haired gentlemen conversed among themselves for the time being as the dancers returned to the floor.

 

Herbert's blue eyes cast about looking for his sister, but he did not see her; instead he saw his mother with Buckingham's clan of blonds, her favourite cousins (and always trouble where he was concerned!). They were always trying to get him married. Between his lady mother and the King, he got no peace on the topic!

 

She gave him a little nod, which he returned. The King noticed and sent Catherine his own smile and nod, and perhaps a surreptitious wink.

 

"Herbert, of all your admiring ladies, who shall be the first to ask you. Come now, you cannot avoid the question yet again," the King said to the young man with a pat on the shoulder.

 

Meanwhile, for that moment John Ashburnham was privately sniggering to himself about Lord Ogle, who fit his name well. How that boy had snagged such a fetching woman (Caroline), he was unsure. He sent her a smile.

[Defiance]

Blonds & Brunettes

 

"It would be a quandry if you did find his virtue, for them he would only have to lose the pesky creature once more!" Mall chirped. "Though I think he lost it up a lady's skirt when you were but a girl!"

 

Buckingham, though, did chuckle at the display. He always enjoyed theatrics. However, the Duke had been hoping that she might just greet the ladies and then just glide right over and ask him directly, but it seemed she was not that brave.

 

She shall have to learn some more bravery and directness... he mused. She certain did try hard without relenting. He would give her than much.

 

"Indeed, but surely, my lord, mademoiselle does not need your aid to ask my dearest little brother to dance!" Mall replied.

 

"You are one gilded raconteur, my lord," said the Dowager Lady Pembroke, with a smile.

 

There were giggles, and Buckingham rolled his eyes and shook his head, and could not help but chuckle. They're supposed to be peck, peck, pecking at the ladies to see who has some spunk, not the gentlemen!

 

"Come mademoiselle, I need rescuing from my protectors before they turn on me or grow in number," Buckingham said to Nicolette. "Surely after our other queries asking me for a dance is no hard task."

 

Women tended to flock but related women could truly make quite the dangerous gaggle. They had decades to perfect their joint attacks and jibes over court functions.

 

Davina joining???

 

(OOC - There's a bunch of dukes at the ball, so I'm not sure which group you're joining)

 

"Good evening," Buckingham replied politely, blue eyes still on his conversation with the French lady.

 

Is Basildon being rescued so easily as well?

[Aria]

Thomas and Fiona

 

Fiona grinned when he agreed to join her. He seemed the timid sort, so if he got the ring in his piece of cake, maybe he wouldn't want to be the Lord of Misrule and give it to her.

 

She placed her hand on his arm as they moved off the dance floor. The lady was usually supposed to follow the man's lead, but Fiona had a mission. Spying a sprig of mistletoe directly hanging directly in the path of one of the refreshment tables, she began to move in that direction, stopping when she was right underneath it. As if by accident, her eyes moved upwards. “Oh look!” she exclaimed. “What an unexpected surprise!”

 

Would he kiss her? If not, she would be quite happy to take the initiative.

[Aria]

Charles and Susan

 

Charles' suggestion was both simple and plausible. Why hadn't she thought of that herself? Now she felt a bit embarrassed that she had not been able to come up with such a perfect solution. He might not think she was clever now, and she genuinely wanted to make a good impression on him.

 

Susan kept her voice quiet as well. “That's a fantastic idea and the Queen will probably be pleased that I am seeking ways to better serve her if she ever finds out about it. And Mister Potts might be more likely to let me see the records, thinking that the Queen will be happy with him for assisting me.”

 

He offered to get them himself, but she shook her head. “I will ask him first. If he refuses, then perhaps you can ask to see not only the records of ladies-in-waiting, but of gentlemen of the King and perhaps life guards as well. Then he will not link us together and will think you are doing an official and secret investigation. Since it is secret, you will not be able to tell him who you got your orders from. But I think I will be able to handle it myself, thanks to your brilliant idea.”

 

She scanned the room quickly, but did not see either of her brothers. Susan knew they would not be able to talk long, regardless of whether they were seen or not. “I would also like to go back to that secret room and clean it out, like we planned before court ended so abruptly. There could be something of interest hidden beneath the layers of dust.”

 

She grinned playfully. “You will just have to protect me from that skeleton you found in there.” He knew she didn't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, for that matter, but she had never seen a dead body and imagined that it would be frightening.

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

Sophia laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows. “Then I shall have to discover those gifts and virtues for myself.” A bit of sauciness crept into her voice. “I do love a good challenge, my lord, and I never give up. We Germans are a stubborn lot.”

 

She could sense that the attraction between them was mutual, but neither of them were reckless enough to act on it. For the first time since she had left Madrid, she felt wanted and desired, and it was an exciting feeling even thought their subtle flirtations would never go beyond playful words. Perhaps her 'neglected wife' act was not an act after all. Her husband rarely complimented her and he was distant even on his infrequent visits to her bedchamber. All women enjoyed being admired, and the young Baroness was certainly no exception.

 

If things had been different, if she had not been married …

 

Sophia, too, thought Italian was the most beautiful language in the world, but perhaps she was biased. Most operas were performed in Italian, even in Germany. To her, Italian was the language of music and music was her life. “I will take you up on that, my lord, although you might find out that my French is worse than your Italian. I have been concentrating mostly on Spanish lately, and my former guardian, who used to teach me French, is too busy serving the King to practice with me anymore.”

 

After another sip of wine, she peered at him shyly over the rim of her goblet. “We could stroll through the gardens while we converse in Italian and French,” she suggested. “And I could also show you around. I know almost every inch of the gardens by now.” For some reason she didn't completely understand, she didn't want to leave him without a promise that their paths would cross again. Not that she had any intention of leaving him quite yet. The Earl of Arundel had been all but forgotten.

 

So the King wished to give his puppies to the most worthwhile ladies at court. Was she one of them? She rather hoped that His Majesty thought as highly of her as Lord Chatham did. “I thank you for including me for his consideration. I do know that he likes to hear me sing. He commissioned last night's opera with the stipulation that I sing the title role. But there might be other ladies he thinks are more worthy than I to be graced with one of his puppies.” Such as ladies he had a chance of bedding. He couldn't have the wife of the Spanish Ambassador, even if he wanted her.

 

Sophia smiled disarmingly when he asked her to join him for some cake. “I would be delighted. If we look like pigs, then at least we will be in good company. I just hope I do not find the ring in my piece. If I do, I shall give it to you. I have no wish to be the Lady of Misrule. You, however, would be splendid as its Lord.”

[Ambrose Turnbull]

Ambrose and Rochester

 

"Snowflakes and Angels? Sounds the sort of thing if you want to decorate your Christmas tree with virgins - me, my merry pole is looking for good greasing." Ambrose sallied with narry a thought. He was still convinced that Whitehall had not a merry woman in existence, and Rochester's fluffy talk did nothing to prove otherwise.

 

His eyes slid with Rochesters towards the approaching woman, that this happened in unison with the words that pilgrims to the salty parrot 'deserved what they got' was curious (perhaps apt) timing. Ellen knew the Lieutenants brutish ways, perhaps she'd liked it?

 

Ellen arrives.

"Or perhaps she is here to ask yourself?" Ambrose sallied, which frankly was far more likely.

 

But Rochester took quick evasive action, dropping Ambrose into the deep of it. There is a certain feeling when that sort of thing happens. Ambrose got the distinct impression that Ellen was someone to be avoided. He had little idea that the man he spoke to was the Earl of Rochester, currently single, and women at large were on a warparth to become a Countess.

 

Ellen & Ambrose

 

"Err... ok, here goes; there once was a lad from Hastings

Who fascinated with the workings of ladies lacings

but his fingers only fumbled

his lips, they just bumbled

that's what you get when a chap has to hang out the washing."

 

He gave a limp smile, trying to talk nice. Gah. He took another deep sip of his drink.