Bundle up, Bunny! | 12/27 Early Morning- Xmas 1677

[Diana Butler]

St. James Park

 

 

The Park was once a marshy water meadow, but now is a thriving attraction with all of London's elite. Charles' grandfather, James I, improved the drainage and controlled the water supply. Other royalty had made improvement to the park over their reigns, but it was Charles II who made dramatic changes. The Park was redesigned, with avenues of trees planted and lawns laid. The King opened the park to the public and is a frequent visitor, feeding the ducks and mingling with his subjects.

 

In summer, it was fashionable to drink warm milk, freshly drawn from herds of cows placidly grazing in the London parks, at a kind of milk bar provided for the purpose. The milk sellers would advertise their wares by calling: "A can of milk, ladies, a can of red cow's milk, sir!"

 

Bundled up, Diana cursed the cold. Everyone told her when she got cold, just to picture a steamy tropical day. Diana could attest, this theory didn’t work. Despite the uncomfortable cold, she couldn’t stay penned up any longer in the house. Mornings were her time - at least they use to be her time… that was before she’d married and then spent her mornings in Ireland.

 

Sitting astride her dark chestnut mare in the park Diana brought in the new day. The sun hadn’t been up long, perhaps half of an hour but not more than an hour. The park hadn’t quite come alive yet. The sun was up and those who’d been out all night had done passed out or gone home to hide their heads under a pillow from the soon to be brightness of the day. And a large percentage of the other half of the people were still in bed and would be for a few more hours. The early morning park wasn’t usually teeming with activity.

 

With a sigh, she laid back on her mare’s back, extra thankful for the flat seat of this particular saddle. Her mare use to such antics, only flicked an ear at the shift of the weight. Staring up at the still cloudy morning sky the Countess of Gowran considered what Digby had said about Henry wanting to go to the Continent. Her personal feelings aside, Diana still thought it was a bad idea. Running off would open a can of worms that she wasn’t entirely sure Henry could put back in the jar once the lid had been lifted.

 

Neither Norfolk or Henry would ever mend the fence between each other on their own, their stupid Howard pride would ruin any attempts at trying to make them sit down and work things out. Maybe Isabel would have some sort of idea on this. Deciding to send her a letter later, Diana put this particular problem on the shelf focusing on the sky once more. Velvet, her mare took a slow step forward inching her way out and towards the duck ponds. It was after all her mare’s favorite spot in the park, any water, and all water drew the naughty mare. If there was only one mud puddle from London to the Scottish Border, she could bet that her mare would find it and play in it.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing…” She muttered under her breath, her hands lightly keeping the mare from speeding up.

 

Wrapping her fingers tightly in a wad of mane she straightened herself back up and glanced around. The milk sellers were out selling the milk. Diana turned her mare towards one of them and shifted to pull out the coin for a can.

[Guest]

John entered the park on horseback, followed by a train of workers, all bundled for the cold, armed with spades and a few other tools and what was necessary to set a fire. They set a fire and put out a caldron of hard cider over the fire. There were other ways to stay warm than just bundling up. With that, they set to their work. At this point it consisted in marking things out and gathering and shaping large amounts of snow.

 

John was often an early riser. In fact, he often found it difficult to sleep. And he was a bit more in tune with the agricultural cycle than most lords because of his own personal interests. Besides, he hadn't drank in excess last night, so his head was mostly fine. Well, as fine as it ever was. He was currently splitting his time between making a large snowcastle to dress up like a Turk in and making a catapult.

 

Regardless, John liked to get an early start on his projects. It was hard to work in the dark, especially with the short days of winter. He still had hopes (perhaps forlorn) of getting this done quickly. After all, while not small, what he was planning was simple.

 

John sat still on horseback, directing people from time to time, sometimes gesticulating quite forcefully with his riding crop. He often consulted large sheets of paper, sometimes scribbling on them, as was the way of such things. And thinking himself perfectly alone. But there was nothing subtle about the group, and although they were not especially near the milk sellers, they would be hard to miss.

 

His horse was a gray (who was nevertheless white) and obviously wanted to be playing in the snow rather than whatever John was up to. The horse looked at it without almost a wistful look and snorting from time to time. John reached down to pat his mount, knowing he would free the horse for some fun once he was satisfied with the pace and direction of the snow castle.

[Diana Butler]

Movement caught her attention. She watched a man rode in front, a train of workers following behind. Lifting the milk can to her lips she watched for a few moments. Diana didn’t immediately recognize Lord Maldon as the figure on the gray horse but eventually she did and handed her empty milk can to the milk seller and nudged her mare forward towards Lord Maldon.

 

Siding up next to him, she leaned over in the saddle a little as he seemed to be looking at some large sheets of paper. “What have we here?” Diana murmured. Offering him a smile, “Lord Maldon. I take it this is preparations for your snowball fight?” Shifting she looked back at what had already been accomplished.

[Guest]

John was so absorbed in what he was doing he jumped a little at Diana’s murmur. A very startled, almost fearful look, gave way to a warm, welcoming and somewhat embarrassed smile, “Lady Gowran. What a p-p-pleasant surprise.” He said by way of greeting. The sheet of papers (which he was not concealing) showed plans and sketches for what he was making. It was a fort.

 

“Yes. I’m g-g-going to make a snowcastle for the d-d-defenders. Hopefully it’ll g-g-get a few people talking and add a… bit of spectacle.” At this point not much had been done. They’d marked out where things would go and were just starting to actually gather the snow to make into the walls. It needed to be done for the thirty first, though, so there was time. John was hoping no more than two to three days at most.

 

“W-w-would you like some warm ale f-f-for the chill?” He offered. She looked well bundled but John thought it was a particularly cold morning.

[Diana Butler]

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a distinct ‘O’, the instant he looked up and appeared so startled. Goodness, if he doesn’t stop doing that… one of these days I am going to run over someone trying to get away from what monster he’s looking at behind me! Still sitting straight in the saddle, she hadn’t completely relaxed again. “Are you sure? You looked as if the monster of the Duck Pond had descended upon you!” She teased, chuckling a little.

 

“Snowcastle for the defenders...Hmmm…” Her gaze had fallen again to the plans of the fort in his hands. She’d become somewhat of an expert of moving furniture around while she was in Ireland. It had become something obsessive for her to do to pass the time away when other vigorous activities weren’t available. Looking up from the plans to the area the workers were working she bit her bottom lip and studied it before looking down at the sketches again.

 

Coming out of her head for a few moments as he offered the ale, she looked up at him and smiled, shaking her head as she politely refused. “No thank you, the milk sellers already hit me up for a can of milk. Which if you haven’t had any is marvelous…”

 

Looking back towards the workers. “So you are hoping for a spectacle… whom have you invited so far?” There was one man in particular if he hadn’t invited him, he needed to invite. One man who could spread the gossip of fun around court in half the time of the average gossip. Willoughby.

[Guest]

“There’s a m-m-m-m-monster!?” John mimed his earlier cringing quite well. His tone was just a tad overdone to be convincing. He dissolved into his own laughter, which rang clearer than his words. “You m-m-must be a princess,” He said, “l-l-like I read about… when I w-w-was younger.”

 

John waited as she dissolved into her thoughts. There was just a bit of tension as John waited for her to deliver her verdict… But she kept her thoughts to herself and John let out an easy smile. He was remembering the last person he’d met over a can of cow’s milk.

 

She went on to speak of the guest list. “Oh, I haven’t any c-c-clue who’ll… come. I told everyone I invited they could bring whoever they l-l-liked.” John said. “You c-c-can too, if you want.” John didn’t seem to mind that the guest list had taken on a life of its own. He’d not really sought to control his own event.

[Diana Butler]

“Oh!” She laughed, “What gave it away? My golden hair? I must be a princess, no?” Tilting her head up a little she looked upwards to the sky and smiled smugly. Any monster would find that the Countess was hardly some delicate daisy to crush beneath their boot.

 

Shifting in her saddle she dropped the reins to rest on her mare’s neck as their conversation diverted from fairy tales towards guests lists. Her hands fidgeted, moving up to re-position a pin in her tricorn that had loosened earlier.

 

“Than I may very well bring a friend of mine. He’s quite a...a... lively sort but you can be sure that everyone would have heard of this snowball siege you are planning in a timely fashion.” She’d needed to speak to him anyway. This would just give her further reason to contact him.

 

“I am afraid the other night I didn’t realize you and Lady Toledo were so well acquainted.” Diana watched him with curious grey eyes. What had that been all about at the ball? Her lips twitched, "I felt like I was caught in the quite the little conspiracy."

[Guest]

“When I’m around you, the d-d-dragons and monsters suddenly show up. And l-l-lord knows they’re n-n-not here for me. If someone kidnapped me the brave knights would hem and haw and make excuses.” John smiled in light amusement.

 

John smiled gratefully as she offered to speak to Willoughby, “Please invite him then. Might I know his name?”

 

“Well acquainted?” John didn’t take her meaning. John laughed, dissolving into an easy smile as she spoke of a conspiracy, “Nothing so secretive.” He assured her. If it had been, he would have been subtler, “My lady sister stayed… with our German relations. She b-b-brought a gift back for the Queen and Lady Toledo w-w-wanted to present something too.” John explained.

 

John chuckled and folded the plans, tucking them away in a saddle bag. “I d-d-didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lord Cavendish. When you said you d-d-didn’t know that p-p-part of your family, perhaps I took it… a bit literally.” John replied, curious himself. He’d calculated that she’d be eager to meet him and, perhaps, had not put as much weight on the Cavendish-Howard divide as he ought.

[Diana Butler]

“Do they suddenly show up, or do you simply become more aware of their existence when I am around?” Diana taunted lightly. “Perhaps they are naught but my pets? Hmmm…”

 

Gifting John with a rewarding smile of approval, “I’ll send a note to him as soon as I find time then. Perhaps you already know him, Master Jonathan Willoughby.”

 

Her brow raised at Maldon curiously as he laughed off the conspiracy theory of hers. “So Lady Toledo wished to present her gift at the same time as your sister presented hers?” Shifting in her saddle, Diana sat back a little further. “How odd…”

 

However, her thoughts from the Spanish Ambassador’s wife drifted away as Lord Cavendish was mentioned. Her lips quirked in an amused fashion. “I am afraid I was introduced to Lord Cavendish prior to him becoming family.” She continued a bit more dryly, “A bit literally…” The coolness in her grey eyes settled firmly on him. Much like a cat watching it’s owner and waiting for it’s warmed cream in a silver platter. “Because of the rivalry between the families?” She rolled her eyes then and looked away, a sardonic smile forming, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Lord Maldon.”

 

Looking back at her companion, “I am not well acquainted with Lord Cavendish, though, I have met him once or twice. I am better acquainted with his son, Lord Ogle despite the rivalry between him and my cousin, Lord Arundel.”

[Guest]

“M-m-mother of dragons I name you,” John said with a grin, “And you m-m-must lead mine when this is complete.” John made a wide sweeping gesture towards the snow fort. He was going to dress some dogs in dragon costumes and though that Diana had just volunteered to be their mistress. “You l-l-like dogs, don’t you?” John said, hopeful.

 

As for the Queen, John puffed briefly. A small cloud in the cold. “Germans are efficient. P-p-perhaps she hoped the Queen w-w-would appreciate the use of time.” John said, with a smile.

 

John looked a bit mystified at her reaction. Amusement flashing into dryness then into cattiness. John shrunk from the look, though he did not go white enough to become cream. “Oh,” John said, hesitating. After a few moments more, hesitantly, gingerly, “Am I your enemy or your f-f-friend?”

 

“Ogle and Arundel are rivals?” John said with a sharp laugh, “Who’s winning?”

[Diana Butler]

"Mother of Dragons." Diana repeated in amusement. Her glove hand brushed a stray blonde wisp from her face although the slight breeze blew it right back. "That does sound terribly dramatic doesn't it?" She laughed, having a hard time picturing herself as a mother. She'd admit it sounded easier to raise dragons then children.

 

At his odd question of whether she liked dogs or not she stared at him a moment, her eyes blinking rapidly as if he'd lost her. Did she like dogs? What an odd question? Her mouth opened and she found herself slow to respond, "What? Dogs? Of course I like just fine. I mean... I have always seen myself more of a cat person but my Queenie quite a fun bundle of joy." Life was a bit odd that way. She preferred cats, but it was a dog she had instead.

 

The Queen might have been German but she was in England now. Diana knew as well as anyone, when a woman married away from her own customs, she adapted to her new customs. That was the way of order. Diana liked order. She liked things in black and white. This was a black or white ordeal. The Queen might have been German, but she was English now... time for English ways.

 

"Hmm..." Simple replies were Diana's answer when she didn't entirely approve, usually proceeded with a change of subject.

 

"I suppose you could be which ever you pleased though I lean towards friend. You would look quite dashing with a nefarious mustache for twirling or stroking, don't you agree?" Diana chuckled, a little more lighter. "I was not referring to you, more circumstances that seem to arise here at court. Have you not had any of those circumstances befall you?"

 

Her eyebrows rose a little, "Why only the fiercest of rivals, my lord?" Her lips spread into a puckish smile and she shrugged, "I think it depends upon which day of the week it is on which one is winning."

[Guest]

“Isn’t that the p-p-point?” John said in reply, grinning. Sophia, after all, had gone straight to being a goddess. And that was very much in the spirit of things. John was the Turkish Emperor.

 

As for dogs, “Good,” He smiled with almost childish glee, “D-d-don’t tell anyone, but my dragons are j-j-just dogs with dragon tails and ears.” He wondered whether he should give her one of the puppies he was finding homes for this season. Or perhaps he could find her a kitten instead.

 

“I d-d-don’t know.” John said of mustachio’d villainy. “I’ve n-n-never tried.” John was clean shaven. He turned to her and put his fingers on his upper lip to simulate a mustache. But because they had hands attached they were instead these great, brown (for that was the color of his gloves) mutton chops that looked ugly. John stared at her with a silly face that was a mockery of villainous looks.

 

John pondered. He was less thwarted than he was ignored. And his older enemies were all conveniently dead. He was thinking. There were men like Buckingham or Basildon who pointedly ignored him. Men like Battersby who were in his way. But were they enemies or just obstacles to be maneuvered around or removed? “What sort of c-c-circumstances do you mean?” John asked. The term was a tad nebulous.

 

John laughed. He couldn’t see Ogle, who struck him as a bit nebbish, fiercely rivaling anyone. Though then again, Ogle had just married the wealthiest heiress in England and Henry was contemplating fleeing. So perhaps Ogle was smarter than all of them… Nah, John thought. “How is Lord Arundel… g-g-getting on anyway?” John inquired.

[Diana Butler]

Diana smiled, but didn’t say anything. It was hard to distinguish if it was because she wasn’t the most theatrically inclined lady at court or if it was because she’d been brought up a Howard and was well versed in not saying every thought that entered her mind.

 

“Oh!” Diana chuckled, hiding her surprise at his almost childish glee at the idea of dogs dressed up as dragons. “And shall they follow my every command? Or, shall they be of the rebellious nature?” So I am to be the mother of dogs, am I? Diana tried not to feel insulted, after all dogs were so much easier to show affection to then some people she’d met in her life.

 

Her eyes widened slightly at the picture of Lord Maldon wiggling his fingers above his lip. Was it suppose to look like a mustache? Parting her lips, she tried to find the words but all that came out was another laugh.

 

“Lord Maldon, if you always do what you’ve always done you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.” Diana teased, shifting back in her saddle a little and letting the reins hang loose on her mare’s neck. “Are you not at all pleased with what you have gotten or achieved? If not, change it… If not a mustache then perhaps sideburns. You’d be surprised how well something so small can completely change a scenario.”

 

The conversation drifted towards friends and enemies, or could have easily drifted to love and war. Shifting again in her saddle, she sat up a little and simply stared at him, sizing him up, for a long moment. Clearing her throat, Diana looked away. He either knew the sort of circumstances she was talking about or he didn’t. If it were the latter, she wasn’t the sort of creature fond of educating and should it have been the first, she did not enjoy being toyed with. Time would tell which was which she guessed and ignored the question pointedly and switching gears to talking of Henry and Ogle.

 

Her gaze dropped to her hands only a moment before she shifted to look at Lord Maldon curiously then smiled brightly at him. “Why… he’s splendid.” Fastening a devastatingly beautiful smile on her companion, she continued. “Are you acquainted with him?”

[Guest]

“That w-w-will depend on you. They’re all t-t-trained, except some of the very young p-p-puppies.” But whether they would obey Diana the way they obeyed John was an open question. Perhaps it’d be better if they were introduced beforehand…

 

John’s thoughts tended that way. He didn’t mean to cause any offense. And Diana didn’t need to be a mother of just dogs. If she could find a real dragon, she was welcome to bring it. Encouraged, even.

 

The conversation shifted to his hair, at least on the surface. “Oh, I’ve… changed plenty. I was brown haired l-l-last season.” This season he was blond. “Perhaps n-n-next season I’ll try red. But if I have a b-b-beard I need to keep to my natural c-c-color, or I’ll look very silly.” John’s hair, like most lords’ hair, was a periwig.

 

John stroked his chin (a gesture that wasn’t normal to him, but seemed beard-y). He smiled, “Do you think I’d l-l-look better with a beard? Just what c-c-could I achieve with a pair of g-g-grand sideburns?”

 

John looked back without much hint. It would be frustrating to try and divine things from him. There was a certain earnest blitheness to his eyes. Uncharitably it spoke of stupidity. More charitably it spoke of innocence. His face flickered with concern as she looked away and smiled when she looked back.

 

“That’s g-g-good,” John said in a distant tone. He didn’t totally believe it. But John was a bit taken aback by the intensity of her look. He turned a bit sheepish but replied easily enough, “More with certain circumstances. The Howards and Cavendishes l-l-like to forget they share blood.”

[Diana Butler]

If it depended on her then all would be well. The countess was quite compelling when she demanded submission, most of the time.

 

Tilting her head she smiled as he spoke of all the changes and nodded occasionally. “And which color is your natural color?” She grinned, “Tell me it is not naturally red?”

 

Taking a glance over his clean shaven face and tried to picture a beard. Honestly she couldn’t quite picture it. Her lips twitched and she shook her head, “No, I do think the sideburns would be quite a bit more distinguishing. They would lengthen your face and bring a bit more balance. Besides you could be quite the trendsetter with them.”

 

The glowing brightness of her features seemed to dull just a little as his mention of knowing of certain circumstances. And then a fraction duller at the mention of the Howards and Cavendishes sharing blood.

 

“It might be in your best interest not to go reminding either of them of that little fact.” She laughed, “I doubt either of them would be inclined to be reminded of such.”

 

Shifting in her saddle she turned to look more pointedly at him. “Certain circumstances…” She murmured. “What circumstances would those be?” Were the rumors about Henry starting to circulate the court more predominantly?

[Guest]

John let out a short, sharp laugh, “Tell you what, I’ll t-t-trade you the secrets of my hair color for fashion advice.” John offered. Perhaps it was just her beauty, but John thought Diana looked to be on the fashionable sides of things.

 

Diana was already helping him with sideburns… and he liked the idea of having a beautiful woman in his corner. Especially a Butler if his tastes ended up tending towards Henrietta. “I’ll t-t-try them,” John promised, “But next season. Better to appear at court with them next season than to luh-let people see them growing.” He looked to her for approval.

 

As for Cavendishes and Howards, “I don’t remind them.” John admitted of the connection. She looked at him pointedly and John shrunk from her gaze. As for Arundel, “P-p-perhaps…” John trailed off. His mind moved in other directions.

 

He looked at her questioningly, “You are sister-in-law… to my f-f-foster brother. Tell me, and truthfully, do you think of me as any kind of family?” John wasn’t sure Ormonde did, let alone the Howard wife of his brother. But that would inform a great deal of how he felt about Diana.

[Diana Butler]

“Hmm… my lord, I may have limited experience with trade but I do believe that would not be a favorable trade for one of us.” She laughed, “By one of us I mean you. Listen to me and I shall have you wearing some of the largest buttons England has ever seen.” Had it been so long ago that she’d made that mistake herself and worn a gown with large buttons?

 

With a swift nod of her head. “Look upon the bright side. If you hate them. Shave them off and just like that… your problem is gone.” She waved a hand much like an actor imitating one of the street magicians might. “Now, that is something I wish I could say to most of my problems. That I could simply shave them off and they would simply disappear.” She nodded again, “Yes, next season would be the best time to introduce that look. Besides if it doesn’t work… well, you’ll know before next season.”

 

It was a bit beginning to become a bit of an annoyance to her that he continued to shrink from her pointed gazes. She kept the annoyance to herself and bit the inside of her lip to keep from questioning him further on what he knew about Arundel.

 

His question caught her off guard, it was evident in the way her grey eyes widened and she looked dumbstruck for a moment. What sort of a question was that? It took her a moment to regain her composure as she delicately picked her way through answering that very loaded question.

 

“Truthfully….” She paused, considered lying and then continued on. “No.” It was blunt and she didn’t mince the words, but she quickly explained. “But then I still struggle on a day to day basis to think of my own family as family.” There was but a very small group of people she might actually deem family, and sadly, Lord Maldon wasn’t one of them, at least not yet... Shifting into her saddle uncomfortably, and offered a thin smile. “What sort of question is that anyway?”

[Guest]

John chuckled and shrugged as Diana demurred on fashionable matters.

 

John let out a puff at her reply. He didn’t appear displeased and, in fact, wasn’t. He couldn’t resist laughing as she asked what sort of question it was, “The sort no one actually asks.” John replied. “And almost nobody actually answers. Honesty still becomes you.”

 

He smiled over at her. The exchange had shifted his mood and for the better. “Ah, but you were asking me about Lord Arundel. I’m sorry, what w-w-was the question?” John legitimately didn’t remember.

[Diana Butler]

Diana's nose wrinkled slightly at the question, and his laugh.

 

"There are reasons no one actually asks those questions. Most people don't like the answers they'd receive." She nodded her head as he said honesty became her. Honesty became everyone, however what was becoming was in the eyes of the beholder was it not? "Answering questions like that will put you into either one or two catagories. Either A.) you answer it with a lie... and everyone knows it's a lie even if it's for the sake of being polite... never the less it's still a lie. Or B.) You tell the truth... and truly how many people really wish to know that? Hmmm?" She hummed curiously.

 

The conversation changed back to Arundel and she shrugged. "Forgive me for not beating around the bush, but I assume the rumors of my cousin's ideas of leaving are spreading, no?" Her frown deepened. A couple of determined wrinkles formed in her brow, "As I said... most people are caught upon either doing either A or B..." She hoped for Henry's sake it was that no one had the balls yet to explain the truth of what his consequences would be if he just ran off. The man could not just go around ignoring facts.

[Guest]

“I do.” John said with a blunt smile. He thought the real reason such questions were usually avoided was because they were often awkward for the person asked. But even awkwardness was a good thing in certain circumstances. “I have rarely… had the privilege of being able to ignore unpleasant truths.” John bit his cheek, warding off unpleasant memories.

 

John shifted in his saddle as she shared Lord Arundel was thinking of fleeing. “I hadn’t heard that one specifically, b-b-but that sort of rumor, yes.” John’s head lolled to the side slightly, “They say it’s m-m-more conflicts of faith and father than his rival Lord Ogle d-d-driving him off. Still, I imagine it’d please him.”

 

“Do you intend to stop him?” John asked. It was obviously against Howard interests for him to flee. And here was where he felt some justification in his odd question earlier.

[Diana Butler]

Diana sized him up in a long look, her grey eyes fixed on him. It was often hard to decipher just what her true thoughts were. Few were as capable at disguising what they felt as those raised in a ‘good’, ‘upstanding’ catholic family. But after a moment she gave an approving nod of his bluntness.

 

“Avoidance never aided anyone.” It was said with the sort of convictions that said she knew of unpleasant truths herself. Her gaze drifted away as she looked for something to draw her own memories away.

 

“That one specifically?” Her chin tilted up, almost in arrogant defiance. Dragging her cool eyes back to him, she frowned as he spoke. At the mention of Lord Ogle, the beauty’s eyes widened in a moment of almost shock and then she threw her head back and gave a deep throaty chuckle. “Oh! Lord Maldon! I needed a laugh, that is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

Her chest puffed up like a small bantam chicken about to set the other chickens in the roost on their tail feathers.

 

“Lord Ogle couldn’t drive away fly if he tried, let alone Lord Arundel.” She snorted, “You may quite take my word it’s more conflicts of faith and father.” Her lips pinched at the last word. Norfolk was not among the list of those she regarded fondly in her family… or otherwise. “You must look at it from Lord Arundel’s perspective. He can not be faithful to both his faith and his family, for one has… forsaken the other… There is no polite diplomatic way to overlook one and remain strong in the other.”

 

His question caused her to pause a moment and sigh.

 

“I intend to try.” Her voice wavered softly. “I understand his feelings quite well. Perhaps as well as anyone could. But, as I’ve already mentioned… Avoidance has never aided anyone.”

[Guest]

John had learned similar lessons. He had learned to tread very carefully in a burning house until the day he could put the fire out. He had, in the end.

 

“Yes.” John said in reply. He recognized, if nothing else, the tone and conviction. The two had more in common than he might have guessed. Certainly more than he’d have guessed, given that she was an Irish Catholic Howard.

 

John let out a puff at her throaty laugh, glad at the change of mood, the brief respite. “Lord Ogle can drive away plenty of people. He is the m-m-master.” John’s tone mock-scolded. John didn’t dislike the young lad but he needed a bit of seasoning to be sure.

 

“No,” John said, his voice full of sympathy. “There isn’t.” He understood Arundel’s position. He understood Diana’s even better. And he nodded at her comments. He looked down, the back of his horse rising and falling with steady breath. Dusted with the bit of snow.

 

“You’ve set… yourself a d-d-difficult task. There are those that w-w-want him to go. And I’ve heard Arundel d-d-doesn’t always think things through.” Because of that, there was at least one move that could shove him straight across the channel. John didn't know whether anyone else perceived it.

 

“But he’s family, eh?” John said, his tone… light in a resigned sort of way. As if he dealt with the same thing often enough.