The most magical time of year (Open) | Morning, 27th- Xmas 1677

[Douglas FitzJames]

Snow fell gently. Light, fluffy flakes drifting down on the still air, no wind to drive them into faces or cut through clothing. It almost felt warm; it certainly looked like a scene from a painting, with the fresh, white snow topping everything. In a few hours it would become grey slush, but in this moment, it was magical. At least it wasn't several feed deep and blocking the roadway.

 

Douglas's boots left footprints in the fresh snow as he wandered along the street, gazing into the shop windows. What to get, what to get? Something pretty, something special. Something to cheer the girls up. He was taking them on a picnic this afternoon, so his shopping list of necessity included sweets and cakes; he hoped to find some other little token for them as well.

 

And who knew what else might catch his eye?

[Aria]

Accompanied by her two younger sisters and their chaperone, Bridget Osborne stepped out of a shop where the girls had just bought new fur muffs. They were using them already, and had sent the empty boxes back to their carriage with a servant. Shopping was one activity that Bridget could participate in without being shunned. The shopkeepers treated her like the fine lady she was and she was able to forget for awhile that her family was in disgrace.

 

There were quite a few people wandering down the streets and in and out of the shops. Some of them threw glances at the three young girls, but Bridget kept her eyes straight ahead, dreading what she might see if she looked toward them.

 

“Where shall we go next?” Catherine asked. “I would like some new ribbons and maybe a couple of fans. We can't use them with our muffs, but we could also buy some gloves.”

 

Like her elder sister, she was on the plain side of pretty, but she had a smile that could light up a room … if one could get her to shut her mouth long enough to smile. She was by far the most talkative of the sisters and sometimes Bridget grew tired of her incessant chattering.

 

“I wonder if parasols would keep the snow out of our hair,” Catherine continued. “I know they're not fashionable in the winter, but maybe we could start a new trend. Wouldn't that be …?”

 

“Do be quiet, Cate.” Bridget sighed in exasperation. “I think everyone will laugh at us if we carry parasols in the snow.” As if they weren't laughed at already.

 

Sophia didn't say anything. The youngest of the three, this was her first season at court and she was rather awed by it all. She had an air of awkwardness about her, as if she was uncomfortable in her own skin. This was not far from the truth. She was still growing and she could be described as all knees and elbows … if anyone could see her knees and elbows.

 

Turning a corner, Bridget's breath caught in her throat when she saw a familiar and very tall gentleman looking in the shop windows. Oh no, not him again. Her feelings about Lord Dundarg were confusing. Usually, she would consider him beneath her notice, but yesterday he had been kind to her and Peregrine at church while others had very publicly avoided them. Why? Did he feel sorry for them? Or was he just friendly by nature?

 

They were going to have to pass him as they continued down the street. She should probably pretend she didn't see him. But then she would be no better than the courtiers who shunned her. She was a proper young lady with impeccable manners and the polite thing to do was to greet him. And so she steeled herself as they approached. “Good morning, Lord Dundarg,” she said in a neutral tone of voice, fully intending to herd her sisters on by.

[Douglas FitzJames]

A vaguely familiar voice spoke his name and Douglas turned from his contemplation of the window to see none other than Brigit Osborne, accompanied by two other girls who bore a distinct family resemblance. I didn’t know Peregine had three sisters. Douglas mused. The two men had more in common than they thought!

 

“A guid mornin’ tae ye Lairdy Brigit.” He replied with a bow and a doff of his crimson cavalier’s hat, a warm smile curving his full lips. “An’ may I presume these enchantin’ young lairdies er yer sisters?”* He asked, turning his smile to include the young girls as well.

 

He knew nothing much about the Osbornes apart from the obvious. Danby had been a Scottish Laird then given an English title, so had devolved the Scottish Viscounty onto his second son Peregrine, who was a Libertine and the disgrace of the family. At least until their father of course. There was an older son who never came to court – married but childless, he’d learned – and then these three. Brigit had been seen about court before, he wasn’t certain about the other two. Their father had been rich and influential and everything had no doubt looked very rosy indeed. And then had come the fall. Now things looked very different, but he could see that the girls were keeping up appearances.

 

“I see yer sensibly prepared fer the weather.” The big man nodded to their brand new, fine fur muffs. He himself had a basket over his arm which wasn’t empty. “I wonder whither I micht beg a moment o’ advice frae three such leaders o’ fashion?”** He asked, indicating the window of the shop in which he’d been looking.

 

The window was full of trinkets and trifles. Not dresses and shoes, not jewellery, but accessories. The fine gloves that Catherine craved, delicate fans, ribbons, embroidered stockings and handkerchiefs, lace collars, ribboned garters. All the fine trimmings that made a lady’s outfit individual.

 

Subtitles

* “A good morning to you, Lady Brigit. And may I presume that these enchanting young ladies are your sisters?”

** I see you’re sensibly prepared for the weather. I wonder whether I might beg a moment of advice from three such leaders of fashion?”

[Aria]

Bridget tried in vain to suppress a smile when Douglas greeted her amiably. It was a welcome change from being pitied and shunned. It looked as if she wasn't going to be able to get away from him without at least introducing her sisters. Both Catherine and Sophia were staring up at him. They had never seen a gentleman as tall as he was. “Yes, these are my sisters, Lady Catherine and Lady Sophia.”

 

Catherine gave him a polite nod, but Sophia curtsied to him, which made Bridget want to slap her. One did not curtsy to the likes of him. “It is nice to meet you, Lord Dundarg,” Catherine said. “It is a lovely day for shopping, is it not? We are …” Her voice abruptly stopped when she felt Bridget's boot poke her ankle.

 

He commented on their muffs, which Bridget thought rather unusual. Normally, gentlemen didn't notice a lady's accessories. She couldn't help being flattered when he called them leaders of fashion, but when he asked for their advice, she intended to tell him that they were expected back home and couldn't tarry any longer.

 

Before she could speak, however, Cate opened her big mouth again. “We would be delighted to help you,” she enthused, looking through the shop window. “We were just thinking of buying some ribbons and gloves for ourselves. Are you looking for a Christmas gift for your lady wife?”

 

Bridget sighed softly, but she didn't reprimand her sister. In truth, she didn't know whether he was married or not. She had not asked Peregrine about him yesterday because she didn't want him to think she was interested in him. He would have tried to convince her to go to that party at the inn, and while it did sound interesting, it wasn't a place that a highborn lady would be caught dead in, even if it was invitation only.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Ah, so you can smile! That was a small victory, not that he was counting. Unlike many men Douglas didn’t set much stock by beauty – he was too closely related to several beautifies and knew what often lay underneath – but he did like to see a lady smiling. It made her that much fairer in his eyes.

 

“A pleasure Lairdies.” He replied warmly as the two younger girls were introduced. Catherine immediately launched into conversation but stopped abruptly as Brigit shifted towards and then away from her. Such a stuffy little miss, Fiona had been quite right. Unlike his sister however he pretended not to notice, as though all was well and there was nothing more delightful than the three ladies before him, which was very close to true.

 

Brigit didn’t look comfortable, as though she desired to leave. Maybe she needed to pee. However Catherine saved the day, all happy chatter in response to his question. It was worth remembering that she liked to talk. “Thank ye Lairdy Catherine.” He replied warmly, as though she’d promised to solve a major problem for him. “I’m nae married, but alsae blessed wi’ three fine sisters. I wanted to find a wee oche fer thaim.”**

 

“Tis hard fer a man tae judge whit a Lairdy wuid like best.” He admitted. “I was thinkin’ ribbons er gloves,” he said with a nod to Catherine, “an’ then I saw those.”*** He indicated the place where, towards the back of the window, several sets of roses had been made expertly out of silk, ornamented with tiny pearl centres. They were on pins for brooches, ribbons for wrists or necks and little clusters that might be worn in the hair or sewn onto dresses.

 

“They’re novel, but I hae seen thaim afore, worn by a couple o’ verra fashionable lairdies. Still, new kin be dauntin’.” He acknowledged. “Whit do ye think? Shuid I git my sisters the flooers er some gloves?”+ He asked, cornflower blue eyes moving from girl to girl, his expression one of polite enquiry.

 

Subtitles

* “A pleasure Ladies.”

** “Thank you, Lady Catherine. I’m not married, but also blessed with three fine sisters. I wanted to find a little something for them.”

*** “It’s hard for a man to judge what a Lady would like best. I was thinking ribbons or gloves, and then I saw those.”

+ “They’re novel, but I have seen them before, worn by a couple of very fashionable ladies. Still, new can be daunting. What do you think? Should I get my sisters the flowers, or some gloves?”

[Aria]

So he wasn't married. Bridget didn't fancy him; she had just been curious. Had he been a high-ranking gentleman from a wealthy and influential family, she might have. Lord Dundarg was handsome, even if he was a bit too tall for her tastes. She felt as if having to crane her neck to look up at him gave him a bit of power over her. It was not a pleasant feeling.

 

Still, he was polite, and her sisters seemed to like him. “You have three sisters?” Catherine asked. “We have two more, and two brothers as well. I wish our brothers would give us gifts, but they would probably get us swords or snuffboxes or something. It's a good thing you asked us for advice. We know a lot about fashion, don't we?”

 

Sophia nodded enthusiastically. Bridget turned her head to look in another shop window so that he wouldn't see her scowl. She had already met his sisters. The youngest two had been well-mannered but the oldest one … Fiona, if she remembered right … had glared at her. She had clearly disliked Bridget and the feeling had been mutual. Unfortunately, there wasn't a gift in any of the stores fit for Fiona. To Bridget's knowledge, none of them sold nooses.

 

If she kept scowling, she would be no better than that stupid slut. She planned to warn Peregrine about her later and try to talk him out of attending the dinner. Fiona had practically drooled over her brother. Peregrine didn't have a bit of sense when it came to women … or much anything else for that matter.

 

Schooling her features into a pleasant facade, she turned back to Lord Dundarg. “We would be pleased to assist you,” she told him. As he pointed out the silk roses in the back of the window, she decided that she would like to have a few of those for herself. Bridget had never seen anything like them before.

 

“The flowers are pretty, but I think you should get them muffs,” Catherine said. “Then their hands will always be warm and all ladies like fur.”

 

“I like the roses.” For the first time, Sophia spoke up. Her voice was soft and shy.

 

“I think you should choose their gifts to match their personalities.” Despite her animosity toward Fiona, Bridget felt that helping him was the proper thing to do. “A lady who likes to stand out from the crowd would appreciate the roses, but one who would rather blend in with everyone else might like ribbons or gloves instead.”

 

“Let's go in the shop and look around,” Catherine suggested. “You can tell us about your sisters and we will tell you what we think would suit them best.”

[Douglas FitzJames]

“In fact, I hae fower sisters.” Douglas admitted. “But the Doowager Coontess o’ Alyth doesnae like bein’ referred tae as my wee sister.”* He said with a wink. Catriona acted older than her years sometimes, and younger at others. All four were, of course, only half sisters, having different mothers.

 

He had known about the two brothers, Peregrine being the younger and the elder was married without issue as yet. He hadn’t known about another sister. Older or younger he wondered? He’d guess older, suspecting that Sophia was the youngest here. Perhaps she was already married. “Thain yer fam’ly haes been e’en more blessed than my ain.” He observed. “Whit brothair wuidnae want wee sisters tae spoil?” ** Well, quite a few probably. Sisters were lovely when they did what you wanted, a pain in the arse when they didn’t, but he wouldn’t tell these three well behaved young ladies that.

 

Catherine had been doing most of the talking whilst her elder sister seemed distracted, so he was a little surprised when Brigit offered her own piece of very sound advice on the heels of that of her sisters’. He met her gaze for a moment and smiled warmly. “Thank ye, tis verra soond advice.”*** For though Douglas was often generous with his gifts, he tended to be rather indiscriminate, and would happily had bought all three girls the same thing.

 

Still, he was a little surprised when Catherine offered to help in more depth by accompanying him into the shop. Brigit’s manner was pleasant but distant, and he suspected she had other things on her mind. “T’wuid be verra kind o’ ye Lairdy Catherine, but ainly if t’isnae interruptin’ yer ain efternuin.”+ He demurred. Cornflower blue eyes looked in Brigit’s direction.

 

Subtitles

* “In fact, I have four sisters. But the Dowager Countess of Alyth doesn’t like being referred to as my little sister.”

** “Then your family has been even more blessed than my own. What brother wouldn’t want little sisters to spoil?”

*** “Thank you, that’s very sound advice.”

+ “That would be very kind of you Lady Catherine, but only if it isn’t interrupting your afternoon.”

[Aria]

Bridget thought it was poor form to mention his harlot of a sister in front of her own impressionable siblings. He spoke of her as if he was actually proud of her. Maybe he was. Who knew what kind of thoughts went on in a bastard's mind? Fiona seemed to be following in her sister's footsteps and had set her sights on Peregrine, but Bridget would not let that bitch sink her claws into her brother. Peregrine was corrupt enough without taking up with the likes of her.

 

Catherine and Sophia apparently didn't know who Lady Alyth was, or they didn't care. Cate had made many friends at court and was usually full of the latest gossip. She didn't seem shocked at the mention of the King's mistress, so either there were not any rumors circulating about her or she didn't see her the same way Bridget did. Sophia just stared up at Douglas with huge blue eyes, almost as if mesmerized by him. “Our brothers don't spoil us,” Catherine said. “Your sisters are lucky to have a brother like you.”

 

Bridget wished she was close enough to kick Cate again for that stupid comment. Still, she felt obligated to provide her own advice on gifts, and when he thanked her for it, she was surprised at how pleased she was. Compliments this season had been rare. Snide remarks whispered behind her back were far more common.

 

Lord Dundarg looked to Bridget instead of immediately accepting her chatty sister's offer. She thought about declining but now she was looking forward to convincing him to buy a completely inappropriate gift for Fiona. “We were planning on shopping here anyway, so you aren't interrupting us.”

 

She looked pointedly at the door, waiting for him to open it for them.

 

The shop was filled with ladies' accessories: gloves, ribbons, lace, stockings, scarves, embroidered bags and handkerchiefs, and many other fripperies that women found indispensable. The fabric roses were displayed on a table in the back, as they were considered a bit avant-garde.

[Guest]

John was nearby waiting for Sir John to come around. He did not see Lord Dundarg or the Osbornes.

 

OOC: Just a placeholder until you're ready to have him join so I can move past the morning.

[Hope]

"Lord Maldon." it was John Lucas arriving, dressed in a warm woolen overcoat, with a scarf snug around his neck. "It hardly seems the weather for buying silk veils, what's the bet they shall be on clearance prices." he clicked his tongue.

 

 

 

OOC: we have been cleared by Aria to proceeding as if a side thread.

[Guest]

“Sir John.” John replied. “Oh yes, there’s hardly any weddings in winter.” John agreed. He hadn’t quite settled on silk. It would be whatever looked most exotic. And frankly, budgeted well, though John was not going to admit that.

 

John quirked an eyebrow, seeming to appraise the man. “I notice my harem keeper… d-d-doesn’t have a harem. How are we going to see how they look? I’m not going to wear one.” They’d talked about finding some before actually going shopping. That had been at the palace, but they would have to make due with who they found out here.

[Hope]

"Doesn't have a harem?" John Lucas repeated, for a moment confused that Maldon was meaning something cryptic - and then the penny dropped.

 

"Ack, well my problem being that the certain 'ladies' that I have met, are up so late at night, and try as I might none would agree to rising so early in a morning for veil shopping." he gave a laugh of that. "I dare say we might enlist some other to model them for us. Though you berate yourself unduly my lord, if any man can pull off wearing a veil in December it is you!"

[Guest]

John’s mood was jovial but he missed the implications of what Sir John meant entirely. Still, he laughed at the idea of wearing a veil. “I’m an alright m-m-man. I’d be an ugly woman.” John said.

 

“Yes, we m-m-must find some.” John said with the tone that this was the start of some grand (entirely farcical) adventure. “What’s your type? Bookish? Fashionable? Strange?” John gestured to a bookstore, a French dress shop, and a curiosity shop. “Something else?”

 

Truthfully John was blustering. He had no idea what he was going to do once he actually found the women.

 

OOC: If any of the shops don’t exist there, just sort of smooth it over please.

[Hope]

"But with head hid under a veil, none of your admirers might know!" he was laughing at the ridiculousness of Maldon dressing up as a woman.

 

Eyes sliding out along the row of shops, his companion struck upon the most interesting idea. "You suggest we pick up ladies of specific interests by visiting the shops that cater to them?" he baldly spelt it out with marvel in his tone. "Egads man, I think you are onto something!

 

"Hmm... but now you put it that way, 'Strange' shas a novel appeal to it." he rose an eyebrow, "with sufficient 'strange', the woman herself might be an adventure. Though then again, we might do well with the helpful and biddable sorts, there is plenty of uses for women of that incline. Shall we venture the clothing shop, and see what we find?"

[Guest]

“Yes,” John said, chuckles interrupting his words, “I c-c-could be any tall, stuttering, twitching lady!” He laughed. John felt his identity clung to him far too much to be mistaken. But that could hardly subtract from his mirth.

 

John hadn’t thought his idea all that clever but he smiled. Sir John settled on the clothing shop. John duly noted that Sir John's tastes were for the conventional, with a dash of adventure. But John just smiled and nodded. He walked over into the clothing shop. Seeing a French dress that he felt looked particularly nice (and with a rather plunging neckline), I wonder how that would look on Mademoiselle.

 

But after a moment his attention turned back to Sir John. He grinned a bit awkwardly and looked around. "What do you think?" He asked, expecting Sir John had more experience.

[Hope]

"I'm sure there is some blind and deaf man that would still have you." though such ribald conversation was stilled as Sir John took on a respectful manner to enter the wondrously inspiring arena of the womans dress shop.

 

Lord Maldon was distracted by the window display initially, though the older man was already hand upon the door. Eager. "If outer layers are in the window, then the underthings must be inside!" he hissed in revered voice, while the jangle of door bell above their heads announced an arrival.

 

For one, Sir John disappeared in through the door.

[Guest]

John’s attention was pulled back at John’s words and he followed Sir John inside after a moment. He was still looking around. He was not a stranger to dress shops (having sisters did that), but he was a stranger to talking to women he didn’t know. He looked to Sir John again, quietly hoping he was more experienced.

[Hope]

Sir John was barely a few steps inside the door - Maldon had to hald himself before bumping into him. As eyes acclimatised he might notice what held his new friends attention. A rack with a string of corsets there hanging as quite the height that it was very easy to imagine invisible women filling them.

 

"This was a good idea." Sir John whispered reverently.

 

Beyond, deeper in the room there was a counter just in front of a door large double door that led to a second stage of the room. A woman appeared there, dressed all in a black high collared garment with cream lace trim. She lifted her glasses from their chain around her neck, and held them to peer through at the men (trying to identify them).

[Guest]

John rolled his eyes as Sir John ogled the corsets. “P-p-perhaps you should try one on.” He said softly, a gentle tease. He did not see anyone other than a woman who appeared to be the shopkeeper. John’s mouth drew into a line. This would be a great deal less fun without models.

 

He looked to the shopkeeper and back to Sir John and let out a puff. “Well, p-p-pick one out. We don't have all day." John said, his tone still amused. "That one looks... right." John gestured to one meant to emphasize Sir John's bust.

[Hope]

"You mean you should." Sir John replied, they might have been a pair of schoolboys.

 

There was a little movement further back in the shop. The woman in black did not approach, but left the men to themselves as she attended upon her client in the dressing room. Further female voices came from the back room also. looked to the shopkeeper and back to Sir John and let out a puff.

 

"What? You mean to buy a corset? I thought we were here for veila?" he puzzled to the Earl, still not actually touching one of the surprisingly pretty garments.

[Guest]

John laughed as Sir John took his corset comments seriously, “Sarcasm, sarcasm.” He said. The entire thing had been a jest. “Come on,” He tugged Sir John towards the proprietress in a friendly sort of way. Like schoolboys.

 

“We are l-l-looking for veils with some oriental styling.” John said, looking over at Sir John to see if he wanted to add anything.

[Hope]

"Oh, of course." the elder man flushed, embarrassed to have been caught out by the supposedly more innocent Lord Maldon. Fingers retracted from the garment, and he followed after deeper into the shop.

 

"Who's that. Is that men?" a shrill & alarmed voice lifted from yonder screen.

 

Now closer, the men might see that there were a trio of woman seated near a mirror, waiting upon a fourth behind a screen, while the woman in black seemed somewhat flustered by the latest arrivals.

 

"Now gentlemen please, ladies only in the dressing room." she held her hands in a halting signal, and moved towards them with a genial smile that faltered only long enough to give a reassuring frown to the seated the younglings. "I have a lovely selection of veils on that table over there."

 

It seemed the men would be shunted to an unobtrusive section of the store, though plainly enough there was a disarmingly beautiful display of filmy lace hanging just there near the counter (in plan view of the rear room). Sir John looked at the stack they had been indicated towards, which looked essentially practical and warm scarves really.

 

"Lord Maldon, is that you?" though their view of the ladies had been blocked almost immediately, a pair of ladies eyes had been quick to recognise one of the gentlmen.

[Guest]

John wasn’t sure what the alarm was about. Men bought women’s clothes from time to time. They had sisters, daughters, mothers, mistresses… John halted at the signal. His vision politely looked away from anything, though he caught the three in the corner of his eyes.

 

John’s attention was pulled by the veils. They looked like they’d do if he could find someone to pattern them. Hopefully the store would do it. Then he heard someone call out his name. “Did your v-v-voice just go up three octaves?” John asked Sir John, his look saying he was perfectly baffled.

 

He tried to recognize the voice, “Yes, it’s me.” He replied. No use in hiding.

[Hope]

Sir John headed over to the veils that were actually scarves, while one of the three missies approached from inside the dressing room. "Oh I knew it was you as soon as I heard your voice." it was none other than Lizzy Dwight, and trailing in her wake was a two younger girls that bore hallmarks of being her sisters.

 

"Are you here to buy a dress?" her mind leapt with memory of her previous fiancee having brought her a dress. But, it was too soon yet. He hardly knew her. Though love is a unpredictable thing, quite nobody knew better than Lizzy just how unpredictable in fact!

 

She was smiling winsomely at John, while her sisters came up behind her and tried to act patient for introductions.

 

Over near the scarves, Sir John was watching with a bemused expression. Who'd have known Maldon to be a babe magnet.

 

While back in the dressing room, Lady Veronica Campden was getting all flustered and tangled with a dress half over her head and far too much flesh exposed - when she knew naught but a silk dressing screen blocked her from sight of god-knew-how-many men! Alarmed? Yes she was sincerely alarmed! While the shops mistress was doing all she could to placate her.

[Guest]

Perhaps these wouldn’t do then. It would be better to find actual veils. They were a specialty item related to wedding dresses. But weddings were common enough.

 

John smiled at Lizzy’s approach. It was flattering to be recognized, though he thought his voice was distinctive, what with the stuttering. “I’m here to buy veils. I w-w-was thinking it might look good as p-p-part of a costume for some ladies.” He confessed. "W-w-would you model one?" He asked. Unfortunately he hadn’t planned any grand romantic gestures for her. But he had just asked her to model a wedding veil...

 

And introductions, “This is Sir John Lucas, Baronet. This is Mistress Dwight and t-t-two ladies I haven’t yet known.” Noticing Sir John's bemused expression, John's own eyes sparkled with mischief. "He's a c-c-connection of Newcastle's and I know his mother's been pushing him to... settle down." He wasn't going to let Sir John get off unscathed by female attention.

 

As for the commotion behind them John just rolled his eyes with a bemused puff. He turned away so he wasn't looking that way out of politeness.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas and the Osbornes

 

Douglas suspected that at least some of the time, some of his sisters didn’t think themselves lucky to have him, other times perhaps they did, particularly the younger ones. So he was pleased to hear Catherine’s comment; his sisters were certainly dear to him, however much of a pain they could be at times.

 

He was a little surprised when Bridget allowed that they were going in the same direction, expecting her to decline in line with the mildly put-upon air she was wearing, but he wasn’t going to look a gift offer of advice in the mouth. “Weel thain, I’ll be glad o’ the comp’ny.”* He replied, opening the door of the emporium of fripperies and holding it for them as the girls entered. Girls and a young woman, in the case of Bridget.

 

The array of fussy bits and things for women was somewhat bewildering for him, though he recognised gloves and muffs and of course the ribbon roses. Little items that enhanced an outfit, and some women used to great effect. “Whit things catch yer een?”** He asked his companions, addressing the question equally to the young girls as to Bridget, since they seemed more chatty.

 

The observation that different personalities suited different gifts had been very astute, and Douglas eyed the various offerings with the personalities of his three sisters in mind. Four really; he should probably get Cat something too, even if she would act annoyed at the gesture. “The richt gift fer the richt lairdy.” He mused thoughtfully, brilliantly blue eyes moving from item to item. “I hae a wee one wha’s a playfu’ girl, a quiet one wha likes her buiks, a noisy one whit likes bein’ the centre o’ attention, an’ a bossy one whit pretends she doesn’t.” He said with a smirk and an honesty that would no doubt disgust his sisters. “Whit wuid ye recommend?”***

 

He’d be very interested to see what the Osborne girls suggested.

 

Subtitles

* “Well then, I’ll be glad of the company.”

** “What things catch your eye?”

*** “The right gift for the right lady. I have a little one who’s a playful girl, a quiet one who likes her books, a noisy one who likes being the centre of attention, and a bossy one who pretends she doesn’t. What would you recommend?”

[Aria]

Douglas and the Osbornes

 

When Lord Dundarg opened the door of the shop, Bridget swept past him with a slightly arrogant air. Her sisters smiled at him as they followed her, much more amiable than their older sibling. They didn't understand why Bridget was acting so haughtily toward this tall, friendly gentleman, but sometimes she could be difficult, just like their brother Peregrine.

 

Bridget looked around, wondering what would upset Fiona the most. Unfortunately, there was not a single noose available for purchase. Sophia went immediately to the table containing the fabric roses, picking one up and examining it closely. Catherine stayed beside Douglas, who looked a bit confused by all the feminine fripperies on display.

 

All three girls heard his description of his sisters. Bridget thought the first two might have the potential to be respectable, the loud one who liked being the center of attention was obviously Fiona, and the bossy one must be Lady Alyth.

 

“I think your quiet sister would like a fan,” Catherine said. “She could hide behind it when she doesn't feel comfortable talking to people. Perhaps ribbons for the playful sister, and fabric roses for the two outgoing ones.”

 

Bridget walked over to a rack full of scarves. There was one that was extremely gaudy, made of clashing colors in a floral pattern that she thought any lady would be embarrassed to wear, but she passed it by in favor of one made of emerald green silk, edged in golden lace.

 

“I think Lady Fiona would like something like this,” she told Douglas, holding it out to him. A scarf could be considered an insulting gift for a girl like the Scottish trollop, who might think her brother wanted her to be more modest and conceal her cleavage with it.

 

Which wouldn't be a bad thing, really.

[Hope]

Everybody together now - at last!

 

Sir John was just about to leave his inspection of the scarves to go meet these other girls, when the door opened again and in came a gentleman with a troupe of ladies. One of the ladies came to look at the scarves he was looking at too, and picking one up suggested it would be good for somebody named Fiona.

 

"That's a fine scarf." he smiled to Bridget, "but I think this one here would look good on you." he held up a brushed wool scarf in baby blue with silver thread on the edges.

 

He looked across to John then and winked.

 

"I think he's too busy to talk." Lizzy grinned back to Lord Maldon, not at all bothered that Sir John Lucas did not rush over to meet them. "And these are my sisters, Bethany, and Eunice." Bethany seeming to be the middle girl, and Eunice the youngest.

 

"Oh I saw a nice fan over there if you are looking for fans." Bethany called to the newcomers.

 

"If you wait long enough, you shall get to meet my guardian." Lizzy told Lord Maldon sunnily.

[Guest]

“A p-p-pleasure to meet you both.” John said politely to Lizzy’s sisters. John smiled kindly at the prospect of meeting her guardian. It was best to get that out of the way early. “And I’m sure it w-w-will be a pleasure to meet her.”

 

John let out a chuckle when Lizzy declared Sir John too busy for them, “Busy.” He repeated the word, rich with implications of Sir John’s intentions. "Shall you t-t-take his place then?" He offered.

 

A few others swept into the store. One of them swept right up next to him since he was near the scarves. He recognized her: Bridget Osborne. John had encouraged Ogle to dance with her despite her ostracism. And he’d given up his own plans to match Ogle with another lady for that dance. John had thought it a kindness sorely needed because of her situation. He felt it had some role in that she’d been a pariah before and danced with other men afterward.

 

I hope she’s getting on alright. That had been an isolating night for him, so he felt a great deal of sympathy.

 

Sir John, however, saw a quarry. John let out a puff at Sir John’s antics, “M-m-might I introduce Sir John Lucas, scarf enthusiast.” John couldn’t resist the tease, mild as it was. “Mistresses Elizabeth, Bethany, and Eunice Dwight.”

 

John introduced them, “My Lady Bridget Osborne, daughter to the Earl of Danby. A p-p-pleasure to see you again.” He did not recognize the some of the others and looked for an introduction. There was a subtle observation to the affair that there wasn't with the Dwights.

 

Oddly enough, he did recognize the people Douglas was talking about from his discussions with Catriona and Ogle. He could guess who Douglas was. But it was politer to let the introductions happen.

[Douglas FitzJames]

They filed into the shop – which proved already occupied – and the girls spread out amongst the various displays. After a few moments Catherine offered her suggestions, and Douglas thought that they were particularly sensible ones. Catherine, for all her talkativeness, seemed a keen judge of people, and that was a valuable skill to have. “I think that Shona wuid def’nitely like a fan.” He agreed approvingly. “Which d’ye think I shuid choose?”* He asked, valuing a lady’s preference since he had no idea himself.

 

Bridgit meanwhile seemed drawn to the scarves and shawls on display nearby, turning back after a moment with a fine green silk shawl in her fingers. It really was a very pretty thing, edged in gold lace and soft as sin when he reached out to touch the fabric; gorgeous. Whether it was quite Fiona he wasn’t certain; and he wasn’t certain of Bridgit’s advice. Did she really think Fiona would like it, was it something that she would like for herself, or was it something she thought Fiona would dislike? He couldn’t decide, but he knew that the roses definitely were Fiona. “Tis verra pretty.”** He allowed as he took the fine fabric in his fingers.

 

Fortunately he was saved by the intervention of one of the other men in the store. Thank goodness for the brotherhood of gentlemen, for they were outnumbered! The fellow accosted Bridgit with his own suggestion, another girl joined in on the subject of fans, and suddenly the two groups were one.

 

Introductions were made, for those who knew each other, and Douglas stepped in with the last remaining names. “Weel met Sir John, m’Lairdies. I see ye ken the guid Lairdy Bridget.” He observed to the fellow making the introductions. “This er her sisters, Lairdies Catherine an’ Sophia, an’ I’m Cap’n FitzJames, Baron Dundarg.” He bowed politely to the Dwight girls and Ernle, all names he’d heard but people he’d not met, and to the last gentleman. “I fear ye hae me at a disadvantage.”*** He added, glancing at Bridgit who seemed to be the tie between the two groups.

 

Subtitles

* “I think that Shona would definitely like a fan. Which do you think I should choose?”

** “It’s very pretty.”

*** “Well met Sir John, my Ladies. I see you know the good Lady Bridgit. These are her sisters, Ladies Catherine and Sophia, and I’m Captain FitzJames, Baron Dundarg. I fear you have me at a disadvantage.”