Waiting, waiting at the water gate | shortly before 11 29/12- Xmas 1677

[Francis Kirke]

By the Thames

 

The Enterprise is a mid-sized yacht that even an untrained eye can tell is not made in the typical Dutch design. Instead of a typical 3 or 4 sail Dutch design, the ships seems more like a cross between a cutter and a yacht, with 5 sails, a taller mast, and a wider boom. The profile of the ship would also seem lower and the lee-boards also shaped differently and longer, interestingly with a bit of carving like a wide feather. On the windward side, the lee-board is removable The craft is made from very straight-grained species of wood found in the colonies and the lower boards are quite light-colored whilst the boards up through the rails are a golden reddish color. It has a very good weight to strength ratio in the species of wood, enabling it to withstand the force of having more sails and a higher mast, making it quite deceptively fast.

 

When not sailing across the Channel but used for pleasure, the yacht is furnished on the deck with wide cushioned benches, loungers and chairs. Above that at the rear of the craft above the main deck is the poop deck which sits over the yacht's cabin. This is the highest vantage point from which the yacht is navigated. As the yacht was designed and built as a prototype meant to coax commissions for building more, much of the wood not related to the stability of the ship is carved ornately like corded braids culminating in the boar's head coming off the bow (whose teeth can hold a large lantern or torch). Above the sails on the mast flies the ships primary ensign, the red cross of St. George which is raised by all ships not underway with Royal Warrant. The rear-facing sail flies an ensign with the emblem of his company, a silver filigree plate in between a large-antlered golden stag on a blue background with K.L Argent Co. across the center of it. Of both rear sides of the poop deck fly Francis' coat of arms

 

Francis had promised a private yacht ride to the Duchess of Richmond after chapel that Sunday. There was much wind, and he had made arrangements to disembark at Barn Elms if need be so that they did not get stuck on the water. As it was, he was not sure what time the duchess would arrive as he had told her any time after 11. He had gotten there even earlier than he had said to make certain that nothing was amiss.

 

As always, he had Tommy perform the duties of making her ready and getting her to Whitehall. His young cousin and ward was a capable acting-captain and had now made the Thames trip numerous times, so Francis' diligence was likely not necessary, but he was a man who knew the value of preparedness.

 

In the meantime, Francis was waiting and watching wearing a warm, velvet justacorps of dark blue with silver braid and embroidery. His waistcoat was a wine-color as were the stockings covered by tall, black boots. The sword His Majesty had gifted him, a fine weapon, was hanging at his side. He wore a fur-lined cloak to keep out the wind, and the generous plume of his hat flapped.

[Aria]

Coming from the direction of the palace, the Duchess of Richmond saw Lord Kingston's yacht before she saw him. It was difficult to miss with its banners and sails and she felt a sense of excitement as she strolled toward it, a lightness in her steps. It had never occurred to her that he might not keep his promise to take her out in it.

 

She was wearing a deep green moire silk gown embroidered in gold beneath her amber cloak, which was lined with soft dark fur and held closed with a fastener of gold and emeralds. Her matching fur hat was adorned with a large emerald set in gold filigree and she wore emeralds around her neck as well. She had been on boat rides before, but never in winter or on such a large vessel, and she hoped she was dressed appropriately.

 

When she spied Lord Kingston, she smiled merrily and waved, quickening her pace until she was close enough for him to hear her. “Good morning, Lord Kingston.” Her voice was cheerful. “You have a lovely yacht. I didn't expect it to be so big!”

[Francis Kirke]

Francis had waited for some while, but ladies always had their own timeframe. It was somewhat expected. When he heard footsteps, he turned. A smile formed on his (more feminine and youthful) face) when he saw that it was the duchess.

 

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," he replied, with a bow.

 

"Should anyone describe a lady as being 'so big'?" Francis asked with a chuckle, nodding toward the ship. Most ships were referred to as female, at least. "And I should think you know me better than to think I'm hiding anything wonderous but small!" His smile had a boyish mischievousness. He enjoyed turning everything into double entendre and other innuendo when he was with her.

 

"So you are suitably impressed?" he asked, raising a blond brow.

[Aria]

Frances wondered how long Lord Kingston had been here. She hoped he had been waiting for her a fair bit. Ladies should never appear too eager for the company of a gentleman. It gave them the wrong impression. She was quite pleased to see him, though, and she appreciated his gallant bow and his cordial greeting. They were friends, but in public, formality had its place.

 

“A lady?” The Duchess looked confused for a moment, before she remembered that ships were generally referred to as female. She smiled. “Some ladies are too fond of desserts and are bigger than they should be.” She knew who these women were and enjoyed gossiping about their ever increasing weight. Smallpox had marred her face, but she still had a fashionable figure.

 

Either his innuendo went over her head or she chose to ignore it. “You need a very large pocket if you plan to hide your ship,” she replied. “Its quite noticeable. I'll tell you whether I'm impressed or not after I see the rest of it.”

[Francis Kirke]

"So ladies are allowed to say such things about other ladies," Francis teased, with a grin. "But we gentlemen are ungallant if we do, you know." He was hardly serious.

 

If she did not understand his innuendo, he thought that she did with what she said next, or rather with how he took what she said next.

 

My pocket, indeed, the wily blond thought. The best kinds of challenges to any Villiers were ones of wit, so smallpox marks or not, the duchess still held a wily allure of her own with Francis. Her figure, though, surely did not hurt.

 

"I will allow you a thorough perusal and appraisal," he said, as he offered her his arm to escort her aboard.

[Aria]

“Of course,” the Duchess replied airily. “That is just the way it works.” She believed that gentlemen criticized each other the same way ladies did when they were among themselves. There were quite a bit of pudgy men at court as well, and she doubted that their expanding girth went unnoticed. Her friends gossiped about those gentlemen as well and generally felt sorry for their wives for having to sleep with them.

 

Frances smiled up at Lord Kingston as she took his arm. He was certainly charming. “Good. I wish to examine every inch of it. And then you can take me on a ride.”

[Francis Kirke]

"Well, then we shall have to make things nice and warm so that you can fully enjoy your ride," he replied, perfectly innocently, though he meant nothing truly innocently.

 

He offered her his arm to help her aboard.

 

"Have I missed anything of interest in the last few days?" he asked. "You always seem to know so much of the goings on at court and Christmastide seems to be a time of much merry, or idle, chatter." Which was to say he was beginning to notice that she seemed to rather like gossip. That, of course, was fine with him so long as it was entertaining.

 

Once on board the deck was subject to the brisk breeze. Tom was manning the helm. The small crew was about their work. Francis' manservant was there to serve them. He had ready some small bites and a few different offerings of drink. Coffee was surely among them, as well as drinking chocolate. She likely had no idea how chilly a ship could be.

[Aria]

“I don't expect that a ride with you could ever be cold.” Her tone was still light, flippant, and guileless.

 

The Duchess was pleased when he asked what had been going on at court. There was little she liked more than gossip and most gentlemen found such things frivolous. Perhaps the dashing Lord Kingston was different and liked to be informed. “Oh yes,” she breathed, “Quite a few things have happened since we spoke last."

 

As they boarded the ship, she prattled on about inconsequential things done by inconsequential people. Nothing important or scandalous had happened that she was aware of. As they stepped upon the deck and the chilly breeze hit her, Frances unconsciously (or maybe on purpose) moved closer to him and squeezed his arm slightly. “And that's about it,” she finished.

 

Realizing she was almost out of breath, she inhaled deeply and then slowly let it out. “So what have you been occupying yourself with lately besides serving the King?” she asked, her eyes meeting his.

[Francis Kirke]

"Is there anything else?" Francis asked, raising a brow. He chuckled after a moment. He did not spend all that much of his time attending the king; there were quite a number of gentlemen and they rotated.

 

"Nothing very grand, I fear. Court life is not quite a riveting as the sea." He had forgotten that she had mentioned Lady Dorothea before, but even had he recalled, there was nothing to tell. The lady seemed very proper and very kind to him, nothing worthy of mention.

 

"I have done some reading and met with some friends, pondered on gifts."

 

He took her for a short walk around the deck, described a few features of the ship. "So is it warm enough? We can see more on deck or up on the poop deck, but there is room below as well." He would leave it up to her. As he had for the swiving tour, he had some chairs and such on deck, as well as some blankets and cushions.

[Aria]

The Duchess frowned in thought. “No, no, I think that's all,” she said slowly, trying to remember if she had left anything out. There wasn't really anything exciting going on this season. It was usually rather quiet around Christmas, with everyone spending most of their time with their families and few court events.

 

It seemed that Lord Kingston had not done anything worth gossiping about either. Not that she would ever gossip about him no matter what he did. “Oh, gifts! I would ask you what you plan to give the King, but I know you wouldn't tell me. I'm sure whatever it is, it will be fabulous.” Frances wondered if he planned to purchase anything for her. She did adore receiving presents.

 

“You must tell me some stories about your adventures at sea. You must have visited some places that I could never even imagine.” She paid rapt attention as they strolled about and he pointed certain things out to her. Frances didn't understand everything he said, but she liked the sound of his voice. She moved slowly and steadily closer to him in order to share his warmth.

 

The poop deck? What a funny name! Did he actually want to show her the loo? Did ships even have loos? She supposed they must, or the sailors would have nothing to go on. “In truth, it's a bit chilly. Why don't you take me to the coziest part of the ship? After we've warmed up a bit, you can show me the rest of it.”

[Francis Kirke]

"What if I told you that I had not yet decided?" Francis replied, raising a brow.

 

Although, he was no family patriarch, so a personal gift from him was not wholly necessary. He intended somethingextra as he likely should as one of the King's gentlemen, but he had not heard back from Mr. Potts about any books for either the King or Buckingham.

 

"How does one decide what to gift His Majesty?" the blond wondered aloud, gesturing outward with one arm as he did so. He had a bit of the Villiers natural drama with gestures. "The King, as I am sure you know, does not overly favour the most extravagant of things save for shoes. My royal master has a conception to have something, and he might have it; there need be no occasion for gifting required."

 

Which was to say what to get for a man that had everything and could afford everything.

 

"That would be my cabin..." Francis replied, giving her an opportunity to object. He belatedly added, "It has chairs, never fear, and I would be quite happy to tell you some stories."

[Aria]

Lord Kingston was right, of course. The King could have anything at all he wanted … except for her. Not that he wanted her now, but there had been a time when he had been obsessed with her, but she had refused to be his mistress, a decision she still didn't regret. Sometimes, though, she wondered what would have happened if she had consented.

 

“What do you get a King who has everything? I suppose one would need to surprise him with something novel that he has never considered before.” She grinned. “I'm sure you will come up with an intriguing gift to present him with.”

 

His cabin? Oh, but she couldn't go there. It would he highly inappropriate! Yet the chill was seeping into her bones, despite the protection of her cloak, gloves, and hat. “Very well, but you must stay in your chair,” she agreed. “And I shall stay in mine while I listen to your stories. I wouldn't mind a cup of hot chocolate either.” She was certain she had caught a whiff of the dark seductive delicacy only a few moments ago.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis chuckled as she told him to stay in his chair.

 

"But I thought that the entire point of this trip was for you to sit on my lap?" he teased, reminiscent of their conversation after Church.

 

"I suppose you can have stories and hot chocolate either way." He smiled to himself.

 

"And you, by the way, what are you gifting His Majesty?" She had known the king far longer than Francis had, so he was actually intrigued to know.

 

The room they entered was small but warm. A little stove of sorts had been brought in. There were chairs with ample cushion.

 

Francis actually contemplated laying on his bed and enjoying the rocking while they spoke as punishment for her comment about chairs. Pah!

[Aria]

Francis and Frances

 

“Maybe I just said that so that you would take me on your boat.” The Duchess of Richmond smiled coquettishly. “If I recall correctly, I didn't make any promises.” If it was as cold in his cabin as it was on deck, she might consent to sit in his lap for warmth. She knew him well enough that she didn't think he would take advantage of her … unless she wished it.

 

At least he didn't deny her a story or hot chocolate because of her refusal. Not that she thought he would. Lord Kingston was too gallant to say no to a lady. It was one of the things she liked about him.

 

She glanced around the small room he led her to, noting the furnishings and turning her head away when she spied the bed. It was cozier here than it was outside, and she sighed as she sank into one of the chairs.

 

“It's a secret,” she said about her gift for the King. In truth, she had not figured out what to give him either, but she would never admit it. “You will see it when I present it to him.”

[Francis Kirke]

"You crafty court ladies!" he chuckled as she said that maybe she had tricked him to get a boat ride. "Using a man for his yacht! When I am quite sure a duchess could afford her own," he crowed with a crinkle in his eyes.

 

Hot chocolate was served up for Frances and a coffee with brandy for Francis.

 

"To keeping you warm despite your frigid deceptions of me," he toasted.

 

"Pah, a secret! You have not gotten one either, have you?" he said, pointing a finger at her accusatorially. He hoped the accusation made her disclose her gift. He did not actually think she did not have one yet either.

[Aria]

“What fun would that be? You can't have a good time when you're all alone. And I doubt I would be able to find such a charming captain to sail it for me.” She shook her head. “No, I don't think I want one of my own. I'd rather just enjoy yours.”

 

Frances accepted the mug of hot chocolate, wrapping her gloved hands around it to savor its warmth. His toast made her laugh. “Oh, but you love it and perhaps I did not deceive you at all.” She raised her mug and took a sip. “To sharing warm delights.”

 

So he had found her out. She couldn't resist playfully snapping at the finger he pointed at her before sighing in resignation. “You have discovered my secret,” she declared. “I haven't chosen anything for him either. I was hoping that if you told me what you planned to give him, it would give me some ideas.”

 

The Duchess took another sip of dark, rich chocolate. “I've known him longer, but as one of his gentlemen, I suspect you know him better. Maybe we can come up with some options together.”

[Francis Kirke]

Francis heaved a dramatic sigh. "Well, you have found me out, for I am happy to be at your disposal." He fought a roll of his eye and instead raised a mirthful eyebrow at her as he looked sideways.

 

"Oh but you did," he insisted with a dramatically solemn nod. "Not as warm as they could be, though." He could not fight the upward twitch of his lips.

 

"Ha! So, this is no novel dilemma then." The cliche misery loving company came to mind.

 

"Better? Me?" Francis burst out with a laugh. "You know what ways a gentleman of the king knows him best, and that hardly makes for holiday gifting. His Grace knows the king well. I cannot claim even a fraction of such." He sighed and then said, "Perhaps I should have asked the duke!"

 

He took a sip of coffee with brandy and said, "But I am happy to attempt to brainstorm. I know he enjoys mechanical things, strange things, inventions."

[Aria]

“That's what I like … a gentleman who is always at my beck and calll. Not just for boat rides, but for anything I desire.” She tossed him a saucy grin. “Though I believe that might be too much to ask of you. So I will settle for borrowing your yacht and your sailing skills from time to time.”

 

Lord Kingston insisted that she had deceived him. Maybe she should sit on his lap after all, just for a brief moment. No, that would be much too forward of her, no matter how tempting it was. “Oh, can you make it warmer in here?” she asked hopefully. Either she chose to misunderstand his words or she didn't want him to know that she was aware of where his thoughts wandered.

 

“I imagine that we're not the only two people at court who have no idea what to give him.” A gift for the King had to be special and stand out from all the others he received. Their situation was probably quite common.

 

In truth, Frances had little idea what the gentlemen of the King knew of him or even what they did besides follow him everywhere and attend upon him. “Perhaps you should ask the Duke. He might have ideas for both of us.” Now it was her turn to wag her finger in front of him. “But you cant tell him that I wish to know.” She had once been so close to His Majesty that she should know what he liked. Alas, but that had been many years ago.

 

The Duchess swirled the hot chocolate around in her mug. “I hear that there is a curiosity shop in town that sells wonders from all over the world. Do you think we could find something for him there?"

[Francis Kirke]

"I wonder what he does when he has many of everything. Perhaps on a good evening, I shall deign to ask," Francis mused. "I wonder how many clocks he receives a year?"

 

The king's fondness for mechanical things was fairly well-known. Kingston had spent enough time in the king's closet, his most personal space in many ways, to know that novelty and invention were quite the commodities.

 

Strangely enough, in that moment Francis reflected that what he now knew of the king was far more than he had ever thought to know or dared imagine. Stories, accounts, did little justice to His Majesty.

 

If he was the poet like his uncle, he might have tried composing something.

 

"Perhaps I should ask the duke. Surely he knows His Majesty well enough to have endless ideas," Francis agreed. "Though were I to venture my own estimation, His Majesty seems to favour things either well-thought or diverting, and being diverting I suppose that is well-though too."

 

Francis' dilemma was that he did not wish to be solely a purveyor of sex, even if that was a prime quality among those of his position, he was not foolish enough to think that enough.

 

Even Rochester could be counted upon for a moving, slight-sober writing of fiction, non-fiction, politics, theater, or poetry now and again!

 

"Is there? I am not sure if I knew that or not. THe only such place I know of is known as The Golden Junk."

[Aria]

“If you do,” Frances whispered. “You must tell me what he says. I wouldn't be surprised if there is a particular part of the palace where he stores all of the gifts he has received through the years. There must be rooms and rooms full of delightful treasures and the only people who are allowed inside are the maids who tidy up.”

 

She leaned forward. “If there is such a place, I would like to see it, wouldn't you?”

 

The Duchess took another sip of hot chocolate. It was cooling quickly and she was starting to feel the cold again. Lord Kingston's lap was looking quite tempting.

 

“If we could figure out something that is both well-thought-out and diverting, then our dilemma would be solved. I want my gift to make him think of me whenever he looks at it.”

 

Frances nodded. “I'm fairly sure there is one and I can most likely find out where it is located. I have never heard of The Golden Junk. Is that what they sell? I admit that I cannot fathom that anything made of gold would be considered junk.”

[Francis Kirke]

"If there is opportunity, I shall ask the king. I am sure he would enjoy laughing about it if there is, but I would bet it is more of a bank than anything." Francis laughed. He doubted the king would sit on unwanted things that had value. Coin was always a trick. Keeping the royal household flowing with plenty (and providing for mistresses past and present) was always challenging.

 

"Indeed, it does sound rather dubious, but it is dubious for other reasons. I would not venture there without me," he added. It was truly no place for a woman unattended. He would not wish her to venture next door, although he doubted a woman could gain admittance.

 

"The Golden Triangle is where poppies are grown which make opium," Francis explained. "Junks were Chinese sailing ships. So, The Golden Junk is a play on words, and there is little junky about it." He gave her a wink. "There are many novelties from the Far East."

[Aria]

“A bank?” Frances sounded horrified. “You think he sells his gifts? After his subjects put a lot of thought into what to give him? I could understand if he gave some of them to his favorite courtiers, but selling them would be insulting to those who presented them to him. No, I can't believe he would do such a thing."

 

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, slapping Francis' hand playfully. "Oh, you're just teasing me, aren't you, Lord Kingston?"

 

The Duchess had never considered where the money came from that funded all of the balls and parties that were held in the palace, and she had certainly not spared a thought to household costs such as paying servants. When she wanted something, she bought it. Money was not an issue. She believed it was the same with the King.

 

The Golden Junk sounded exotic and mysterious. Frances was not an overly adventurous woman and had no desire to step foot into a place that her handsome companion said was dangerous. At least not alone.

 

“Have you been there?” she asked. “Do you think they have anything that His Majesty would like?”

[Francis Kirke]

"Is not giving them to favored courtiers or courtiers from which His Majesty requires a favor not already using it as something of a bank?" he asked in return, with a wry grin.

 

"Would I do that to you?"

 

Teasing each other was the one they did very well together. He rather enjoyed that she could blend with both the libertines and the proper sort. He enjoyed her wit and desire for enjoying court.

 

"Besides, you must surely know more about court, and the King, than I do." He knew that his royal master had warm feelings for his Stuart cousin, even if their playing was long over. "How could I fool you?"

 

As to the Golden Junk, Francis nodded, "Indeed, things from a life on the other side of the world." Perhaps not quite so far, but he doubted the duchess was sea-farer enough to note the hyperbole.

[Aria]

Frances pondered his question for a moment. “Perhaps, but giving them away and selling them are not at all the same. If a courtier sees an item he gave to the King being used by someone he favors, he will know that His Majesty valued it enough to consider it a proper gift. I don't think I would mind if he used one of my gifts like that. But if he sold them, I would be very angry at him.”

 

It didn't occur to her that some people might have the opposite viewpoint.

 

She was a bit disappointed that he did not grab her hand when she slapped his. “No,” she replied with a wicked grin. “The gallant Lord Kingston would never stoop so low as to tease a lady.”

 

The Duchess tilted her mug back and drank the last of the hot chocolate. She was starting to feel the cold again, even though the cabin was much warmer than it was out on the deck. “I may know the workings of court better than you, but I still think you know more about His Majesty.” Yes, they were still close, but she only saw him at public functions. His gentlemen were part of every aspect of his life, from the moment he woke up until he finally went to bed, or so she had always believed.

 

“Ooooh.” she breathed, her eyes glittering with curiosity. The Far East didn't sound as if it was on the other side of the world as much as it sounded like an entirely different world altogether. “Have you traveled that far?” she asked, promptly forgetting that they had been discussing gifts for His Majesty. “You promised me a story, remember?”

[Francis Kirke]

"No, never, and you know my reputation is of being most gallant and gentlemanly," he said, with a snicker. Actually, it was his reputation. At least it was after he had rid himself of the trail of Charles Kirke's escapades that had followed him.

 

His voice was quite dramatic as e put a hand over his heart, "Teasing the delicate flower that is a lady would be far too cruel. Why, a lady would not be able to properly defend herself."

 

He batted his eyelashes and then grinned, knowing full well most ladies could defend themselves with both tongue and (sometimes) sword (in the case of their shared aunt, the other Duchess of Richmond).

 

"I traded with the Turks just last Spring," he affirmed, smiling. "His Majesty has promised to keep me firmly on solid land, though, so I doubt I shall be going that far any time soon. Duty would prevent such long trips."

 

As to a story, he said slyly, "There were a few promises in that conversation if I remember correctly." He paused for effect. "How is your drink? Are you quite warm? Being cozy is a necessity for a good story, do you not think?"

[Aria]

Lord Kingston had always been gallant to Frances, although she sometimes thought she could sense a streak of mischief in him. She had heard no derogatory rumors about him, which probably meant there weren't any since she always kept abreast of the latest gossip.

 

Laughter followed his melodramatic comment about the delicacy of ladies. He was teasing her again, but how could she mind when his grin was so charming? She batted her eyelashes right back at him. “How do you know that some ladies might not like to be teased? I imagine you would be quite good at it if you put your … mind … to it.”

 

A flash of memory from that last night in Brighton infused her thoughts and she turned her head away and pretended to look around the cabin so that he wouldn't see her blush. When he mentioned trading with Turks, her gaze spun back to him.

 

“What do you get from them? I suppose they probably want English swords. I've heard theirs are crooked. How can you stab anything with a crooked sword?”

 

His comment about promises sent her gaze fluttering to his lap again, but her glance was so brief it could have been easily missed. “Yes, of course. How can you pay attention to a good story when you're uncomfortable? I could use another mug of hot chocolate and in truth, I am a bit chilly.”

[Francis Kirke]

"Indeed, my sharp mind is the sceptre of my psyche," he replied, as she turned her head, hoping to bring her wandering attention back to the game afoot.

 

"Spices, opium, whatever strikes my fancy." Whatever struck his fancy was generally what he thought would make a hefty profit. He was lucky to have good business acumen. Most courtiers knew not the first thing of producing profit or surplus. "I've brought animals back as well. A horse for my cousin last year."

 

Chuckling about the swords, he replied, "They manage quite well, I assure you." He paused, "When one is motivated, it is not difficult to stab with something curved." He put a dramatic emphasis on 'stab.'

 

"Well, then I shall call for more with a bit of brandy," he promised, rising. "And if we get close we can share some furs." He smiled, "I wonder at your desire for a boat ride in the cold...surely it would have been more hospitable to wait." Yes, he was teasing that she had picked a cold time so that she would have an excuse to get closer.

[Aria]

Frances grinned. “Then you are typical of your gender, for everyone knows that gentlemen think with their scepters.”

 

So that was where spices came from and where physicians obtained opium to relieve their patients' pain. She wondered what other useful things came from the Turks. Perhaps she would ake him one day, but at the moment she was more interested in his stories … and perhaps his warmth.

 

As for animals: “Did you bring back that awful monkey of your former ward's? I've seen her with it a couple of times. It's a dreadful little thing, but she seems to adore it.” In her opinion, Germans had a strange taste in pets.

 

She didn't miss his melodramatic elocution of the word 'stab.' “Well,” she said with a delicate shrug and a mischievous tone of voice. “If I had to be stabbed, I would much rather it be with an English sword than a Turkish one.”

 

The Duchess admired his tall form as he stood.“Thank you, my lord. You are most considerate.” Although she didn't comment on sharing furs with him, the notion was appealing. “I'm just impatient, I suppose. And I didn't know it was going to be this cold. Perhaps you will give me another ride in the spring?”

[Francis Kirke]

"No, but I did purchase a monkey for Lady Gwendolyn to give to the Duke...Come to think of it, I've no idea what he did with it. Perhaps it's running about the house somewhere." Francis chuckled, imagining it torturing the servants in the attic or some such.

 

As in any old house, he heard noises at night, perhaps that explained it.

 

"As any good lady of breeding should," he replied, a crinkle to his eyes accompanying his smile.

 

"But truly all English implements are superior. Novelty soon wears off even if exotic is appealing in the moment." Oh how he loved double-meanings.

 

It took only a few moment to refill their drink and then to have one of the crew tell Tom to speed it up if possible. It would no do to be the cause of the duchess catching a chill.

 

"Here you are, my lady, we should be there soon, and will have a roaring hearth awaiting us." He handed her the hot drink and then invited her to sit with him with a gesture.

 

(Shall we work toward wrapping this up? We can always revive them with something new in the timeline.)

[Aria]

“Maybe he gave it to some crazy German. I certainly wouldn't one of those horrible creatures lurking in my house.” Frances wagged a finger at him. “Don't even think of getting me one for Christmas.” She knew he wouldn't, but she hoped he did give her something, maybe a pretty piece of jewelry from some far off land.

 

“Novelty wears off of everything unless you know how to keep it interesting.” Her eyes sparkled impishly. “Even the most intriguing English implements.”

 

The Duchess took the mug of spiked hot chocolate from him and wrapped her hands around it. Its warmth spread throughout her body but it still wasn't enough stave off the chill. When Lord Kingston gestured her to join him, she stood up and moved next to him, closer than was strictly proper but not near enough to touch. Since the trip was almost over, she would save sitting on his lap for another time.

 

“So what about that story you promised to tell me?” she asked.

 

 

(OOC: I agree, even though she was just about convinced to plop down in his lap. Perhaps that's something to look forward to in another thread. )