The Art Patroness | 30th, afternoon- Xmas 1677

[George Hardwick III]

Half Moon House - Chilchester's PallMall Townhouse

 

 

A short drive ended at a carriage door that led through the soft, parchment-plaster facade of Half Moon House, the face of which is broken by numerous gleaming, white, sculpted window frames.

 

Centring the front of the house was a pair of heavy doors featuring a bronze knocker fixed by an ornate network of Celtic knots. Stretching out before the door was a set of white steps and a path of cut stones that angled through a phalanx of carefully trimmed hedges to the gate leading out to Pall Mall.

 

A matching coach house and service entrance is round behind.

 

He anticipated Lady Habershams arrival soon, all was in order for the visit. In fact the Earl was looking forward to the court veteran's visit very much. There was some manner of visuality to her tales, that caught his minds eye in a most enjoyable fashion. Would Edith have been surprised to know he'd had his servant scour all of London in search of a thistle flower in memory of one such tale she'd told of? Alas, the hunt was unsuccessful.

 

The fire had been roaring in the great hall since early morning, driving the chill from the air. The hearth side chairs were clustered about a low table, upon which a tiered stand sported savoury and sweet bites, with a small stack of matching side plates and cups. The room was rather spartan else were, the bareness of the floor serving to exaggerate the fullness of the walls - which held a near continuous row of paintings all at eye height. These were the works of artists he'd worked with over the past summer, all but one painting that was. But that was a discovery for later.

[Blackguard]

Arriving in a flurry came the Lady Habersham, decked out in a green velvet dress will silver snowflake brocade. The silver accented her own silver hair.

 

It was the type of holiday dress that one could wear only sparingly because of the season and to not overplay the uniqueness. Behind her came a servant carrying something oblong draped in a silver cloth. "Lord Chichester!" she called as he approached, seemingly quite eager to see him.

[George Hardwick III]

It was a veritable reunion; barely repressed joy.

 

"Lady Habersham." George moved forwards with a quickness, and bowed taking her hand warmly.

 

"It seems like weeks that I've been looking forward to your visit, rather than mere days." arising from his bow, he pressed her hand to crook of elbow in a shamelessly self-indulgent manner. It was not very often the Earl had a lady to escort anywhere, and he made a bit of a fanfare of taking her though to the awaiting Great Hall.

 

Behind him the servant with some manner of tray straggled. Bending his head towards Edith he asked, "What is with the silver, why we are not even up to our paper anniversary." teasingly said, right from the start he’d conducted a little romance with the charming woman.

[Blackguard]

"Such a gentleman," Edith remarked as he took her hand and showered her with compliments. "Why silver is like ice in winter," she began. "What better for such a slick gentleman as yourself?"

 

She paused his advance so that she could present her gift. "Perhaps a bit early, but I wanted to give you this. It is hand-carved." The servant removed the cloth and revealed a handcarved oak easel. At the top a laurel was carved, The right leg had a lyre, the left a raven, and the back a bow and arrow.

 

"It is an easel dedicated to Apollo, patron of the arts," he announced happily. "What better for a man of art, poetry and science?" George had seemed to fit the bill for all three aspects of the sun god.

 

"Though you need no inspiration surely, this could provide it further." She beamed in anticipation.

[George Hardwick III]

"While your company is so warming it might melt..." George played off her metaphor with an brightness of eyes that told of his enjoyment of such talk.

 

"Slick?" his face shifted through a number of possible emotions before settling upon a laugh. "But Lady Habersham! My polish is response to your inspirational company, you bring out my better side." Something about the elderly woman warmed his heart and have him feel better of himself than he had in some time.

 

"You shouldn't have..." He had not expected a gift - and adopted the proper pose of modest acceptance. It was an easel, he had a dozen, but how was she to know. But then his eyes flared with appreciation fo the detail. Moving closer to the easel, he moved it's working to set it to stand. "Why this is stunning!" Forgetting himself he crouched, removed a glove and ran fingers over the carving. He turned to look to the lady - words failed him - arising he moved almost brusquely and planted a kiss upon her cheek. "I love it. Thank you."

 

Her gift had managed undo George’s polish; he was flush cheeked as he turned to look at the easel again. "This is too good for painting upon, this shall show of my most prized painting." Curiosity had him look for the craftsman’s mark.

[Duncan Melville]

Since he was going to be in that area of the city, the Scot had planned earlier to pay a visit to Lord Chichester, hoping the man would not be inconvenienced by his unannounced arrival. Duncan considered George his friend, and if the roles were reversed he would not have minded one whit. Besides, the lowlander had found the perfect gift for his friend, or so he thought, and had decided to give it to the artsy earl personally. Hopefully he finds it as interesting as I did.

 

So it was that a liveried carriage with the coat of arms of the Melville family arrived at Half Moon House pulled by six dark grey horses. As soon as the carriage stopped, and the door was opened for him, the Scot jumped out carrying what could be surmised to be some sort of tray, covered in soft, black muslin. To the casual onlooker, the possible tray would appear strangely empty, though.

 

The viscount was dressed in a steel-gray velvet justacorps decorated with silver thread in starburst patterns, matching breeches, and a quilted brocade waistcoat in blue and green shades. Over that ensemble, he wore a circular black velvet cloak lined with chinchilla fur. On his head was an old-style cavalier hat adorned with a trio of peacock feathers in matching shades to his waistcoat, and largish, good quality diamonds could be easily seen on both his cravat and his hand.

 

Walking briskly, the military man approached the door, and knocked. KNOCK! KNOCK, KNOCK! When the door was opened, the viscount asked, “Is Lord Chichester receiving? Please tell him that Lord Melville would like to have a word”. I so hope he is in. Few friends I have in London, and he is one of them...

[Blackguard]

Edith beamed in happiness as her gift struck the mark. She had judged it correctly. The kiss was both unexpected and welcomed. A matron received few meaningful kisses, which made them all the more valuable. It had been well worth the effort.

 

The mark was but a simple "TC" subtle in its placement. "He is quite talented. He had a lovely birdhouse too, but I did not think of that for you. It was more appropriate for another gentleman I know."

 

The doorman appeared before the pair then. "M'lord, a Lord Melville is here, asking if you are receiving guests?"

[George Hardwick III]

The kiss had been an impulsive gesture, yet born upon a tide of gratitude that he hoped would not offend - still it had been reckless, and reckless rarely served the man well. Fortunately though, this time the world moved with him.

 

That she was not affronted had his smile relax further still. "I would like to know who this talented T C is, for he is worthy of further court patronage. Ha, and you gauged rightly, my lady, a bird cage would have been quite lost upon me." he chuckled of the thought - while the question passed through his mind to who the other fellow was?

 

"Ah... but now I feel moved to admit, that I have a gift in the form of a painting for you, awaiting us in the great room." a pause, and he requested of the servant, "would you bring the easel with us please."

 

Though before they could co though, a further stall occurred: his doorman with message of Duncans arrival.

 

"Ah." It never rains, but it pours.

 

Clicking tongue with the surprise, he turned to Edith then. "Lord Melville is a good friend of mine, I"d not realised he had made it to the Christmas Season. Would you mind some further company upon your tour of the artworks?" As delighted as George was to have a second visitor, he was a tad disappointed that the intimacy of her private viewing would be lost. Leaning closer he uttered, "...which does not preclude necessity for a second viewing, should you think it apt." his eyebrows rose with this further invite.

 

"If you have not yet met Lord Melville, he is a worthy addition to your circle, with connections in many countries commencing in his own Scottish lowlands, a fine gentleman of gracous spirit and loyal friend."

 

 

OOC:just pausing to confirm she is indded happy to share before George can go on to welcome Duncan in and introduce the pair.

[Blackguard]

"His name is Tom Carver," Edith revealed. "An apt name for a woodworker. Mister Habersham held long that every tradesman should adopt a trade name for a last name. It is so much easier to remember that Mister Cooper is a barrel maker, yes? While drawn by his last name, it seems there are generations of woodworkers in his history. No doubt the father taught the son. There does not seem enough of that these days. I knew a tailor's son who wished to be a seaman. What a waste of the fine talent the father offered. Seamen are a rough sort, hardly civil and presentable. Do you not find it ironic that that anti-social people are drawn to the sea and those drawn to the sea are ill prepared for society? It makes one wonder does it not?"

 

The offer of a present caused a glint in the matron's eye. She snapped her fingers at her servant, who scooped up the easel and prepared to follow.

 

It was then that Melville was announced. George spoke highly of him but Lady Habersham did not disguise her disappointment. "Melville? Any relation to Herbert Melville? He was a wealthy land owner in Berkshire."

 

"If you feel it important for this gentleman to join us in our art excursion, then I shall not object." Her eyes and voice said otherwise. She had been looking forward to having George all to herself.

[George Hardwick III]

George mind immediately supposed that this tom came from a long line of woodworkers, and so he smiled as Edith drew that conclusion too. "I shall have no trouble remembering his name." he agreed with a chuckle, then enjoying the little journey she then took him upon -- a journey of a tailor lost to the sea...

 

"Hmm..." he paused to think of her evaluation. His chin was rubbed, "though the thirst for adventure all some to travel, and some others go abroad to escape. Though I know quite what you mean of the hardening of those men. Still, perhaps that is in part the effect of travel itself, than their original state. Each of us was once an innocent babe. How much of what we become is latent within, and how much is a result of the experiences we are burnished, or abraded by?"

 

"It is certainly a question for reflection." he agreed.

 

To be honest, he was flattered by the hint of disappointment in her eyes with news of an unexpected guest. George straightened and turned to his man. "Please let Lord Melville know that I am currently busy upon a important afternoon meeting, I am sure he shall understand, business is business, but please have him leave a note and I shall attend him as soon as I can."

 

He turned back to Edith. While he'd like to see Duncan again, he'd blocked out the afternoon for her, and was pleased that his plans might continue forwards.

 

Elbow re-offered, and free hand opening the door to the great all. "Now, to the art!" they would finally make it to the room so carefully prepared - behind them servant with the easel followed.

 

A room fit for dancing, sparsely populated with a couple fo chairs near the fire, and with a single row of paintings side by side around all of the walls. "Your own present, my lady, is concealed in the open, hidden amongst these others, a painting for you by my own hand." he smiled as he imagined her to be perplexed to which one. "I think you shall know it immediately you see it."

[Blackguard]

The Earl offered an alterative view of travel generally. "Ah, but travel through life makes one better able to cope and communicate with society ... at least until you are old enough to care no longer for the dance," she professed. "The sea is cold and has not the refined presence of women. It leaves men cold and hard. It is much like being a monk I suppose. The company of men alone is not a recipe for long-term success in society. As silly as women can be, they are as necessary as air to breathe freely in society," she added in defense of her gender.

 

Hiding the pleasure that George sent away his guest, Edith could not disguise the sparkle in her eyes. Then she ruined the façade by announcing "so it seems that I have you all to myself this afternoon."

 

Entering the large hall, Edith paused before remarking "now this is a room in need of more furnishings." She could not help herself. She also paused to run her white glove along the woodwork at the entry way. It was a force of habit to see if George's servants were diligent in their dusting. She detested lazy servants. Satisfied that there was no accumulation of dust, she entered further.

 

He invited her to find her painting and she clapped her gloved hands in anticipation before her sweep of shirts moved to the easels. It did not take long for her to make a judgment.

 

"This is the one I think. The crystal vase in the window. See how it catches the light and almost sparkles. It is both delicate and proud. The flowers in it wilt with time but the vase endures." She was describing herself. "One day the vase will be broken and discarded, but it now sits proudly on its perch looking out upon the world and attracting the gaze of others." There was a long pause as she stared at it, as if commanding it to come to life. Then, she recovered her awareness and turned to her host. "Was I correct? Was it this one?"

[Duncan Melville]

Lord Chichester is currently busy upon an important afternoon meeting. He said he was sure you would understand, and to please leave a note and he shall attend as soon as he can."

 

Duncan was only half-successful at repressing a smile. So, Chichester, you are conducting business this afternoon! Old rascal, if I were to listen intently, I am certain I would hear rather loud and undignified moans and groans coming from your bedchambers! It was clear to the Lowlander’s mind that his friend was being kept busy by a young and beautiful woman. She had to be beautiful, he thought, as she would not satisfy the earl’s artistic sense otherwise!

 

“Please tell Lord Chichester that I apologize for having called unannounced, and that it is nothing of critical import. Just give him this…” the viscount handed the servant a flat, rectangular object, covered in soft, black muslin. “… when he is not busy. Tell him I hope he likes it”.

 

The servant received the package with a small bow, and then the Scot turned and left. He would get to see his friend another time, when he was not so… engaged.

 

If and when George were to open the package, he would find a still life oil painting of game birds and implements of the chase on a draped stone ledge, by William Gouw Ferguson, a Scotch painter of some note.

[George Hardwick III]

George would have been highly surprised, possibly bemused, even a little shocked -- had he known anyone might think him up to afternoon hijinks with a lady lover! Alas, he might never know his friends 'complimentary' assumption, though he would greatly appreciate the painting when he came to view it. It was skilfully painted to start with, warranting a closer look at the signature, and there confirmed it was the Scottish painter of still life - it was a piece typical to the mans subject, which was of course a positive thing for a collector. "Very nice..." Chichester uttered, holding the work back at a different angle to fully appreciate the play of light there trapped upon canvas.

 

He would need to spend some proper time composing a reply, and of course scheduling a return visit.

 

~

 

"And what age need one be to hang up their dance slippers, eh?" he gave her a smile and shake of head, denying her implied claim that she had reached such a vintage.

 

But then she dallied obliviously into territory that was far greyer to the Earl, yet perhaps her points were aptly made. George could hardly comment. "It is an arena that I have far less experience, being but a batcher myself. Though I would grant you that I have wished for a lady Chichester at my side more than once. The world seems to hold a softness in eyes for couples, as though the sternness of judgement is confused and unfocused by it. I am a man who has use of a little forgiveness in the eyes of my peers. The air might be, as you say, a little freer."

 

By topic she had confused him, so he was hardly able to assemble a thought, he was not sure what he was saying!

 

Was the facade ruined by her statement, really? George chuckled of it said, "That's if I ever let you leave." and gave a wink to show he was teasing.

 

Into the hall, George paused awaiting the impact of the scene to strike her. he'd not expected the comment she gave however.

 

"Err... it is supposed to be sparse, so as to make the art on the wall all the more prominent,” meanwhile blinking as he repressed further surprise as her impromptu dust inspection.

 

Yet whatever that verdict, she was delighted as a little girl when he explained the game hidden in the exhibition. And too quickly she chose one, and conjured the metaphor to suit it. Oh what a dear. Where were more women like this? George's heart was hers.

 

Smiling fondly he spoke, "You are correct to think in allegory, the deeper meaning in a life when one peeks beneath its surface. Yet this painting is by a young artist from Dresen, perhaps ode to a gentle lady dear to him whom he was painting. Yet you, my dear Lady Habersham, are none so brittle, what cares life has left upon you only make you all the more remarkable, never expendable. No, this is not your painting."

 

They walked along a little more, "When we have our exhibition, I would like it to be something like this. Yet perhaps in a room even bigger, with lighting well placed. We might have roving servants with wine and cheese, but nothing too distracting. I hope for the art itself to be the focus."

 

Being a woman, she might have her own thoughts on that.

 

 

 

OOC: in a utterly unique brand of idiocy, I just made another knot by joining the dutch ambassador who's with edith in the embassy thread >.< so suggest I just stop posting at the party (unless it bcomes neccessar) and focus here.

[Blackguard]

"It is not age that dictates it," Edith tutted, "but one's spirit." Was this a voice for the truism that one is as old as one feels?

 

George's explanation for the sparseness of furniture was accepted with a suitable nod. "I had not considered that point of view." As a woman, her focus had been on how she might add pieces to the room to make it seem more lively and less like a gallery.

 

It seemed that she was wrong in her guess. "The painter is well schooled," she judged as her eye sought further choices. "Allegory is like a secret language Lord Chichester, don't you think?" She had been silent on his other musings, but this topic drew her out. "Those that do not speak the language see only a simple vase and move on. Yet, the trained eye sees so much more, and it can be many things to many different minds." George was such a splendid young man. If she were only 30 years younger, or perhaps only 20.

 

As he described the layout of the exhibition that he preferred, she found herself nodding. Of course, she could redesign it in her mind but George was so charming it overcame her desire to meddle. "Good lighting is necessary to observe fine detail," she began. I would have two chairs face each pice so that a couple might pause to be seated and stare at the wonder of it."

[George Hardwick III]

"Spirit. Yes, and spirit may be replenished." he reflected upon his own loss of spirt but a year ago, and yet now he was so revived.

 

"I would like to claim Art might achieve that, but it is more than art that refuels the soul, don’t you think?" It was not an opening that George would give to just anyone - he having rather finely honed set of opinions on such things, but he felt safe opening the thought for her opinion. Edith had such an enchanting view upon things.

 

"Please, call me George." he interjected as she begun upon allegory. "But yes, still life’s are often enough the outright display of set of secrets belonging to the owner, though some are rather less secretive. I must admit I find great enjoyment in viewing the amalgamation of portraiture and still life, where the sitter has about them a collection of items both symbolic and literal. Marvellous stuff, it is like an entire book in a single view. Many hours to be spend reading it, and of course, like any view point, ones own life experiences and understandings are drawn upon in the interpretation there of. "

 

It might simply be a platonic love affair had developed, this yearning to indulge the other, and sheer pleasure in the keeping of company.

 

As he spoke, he moved her past a collection of ocean scenes, the sort of thing that appealed to men primarily. Large ships. Battle scenes. Harbours lined with busy dockyards. Then slowed as they came to a quartet of pen and watercolour studies of botanicals. Plants that were drawn humbly, specimens seemingly torn from the soil with roots in tact, depicted with a startling accuracy that made them beautiful.

 

"What a wonderful idea." he murmured to her suggestion of pairings of chairs aptly placed. "Perhaps the exhibition even be publicised as something suitable, or recommended, for couples and pairings. I must say that I feel my own eyes appreciating these differently now that I look at them with another." he paused, "ah, but I do not wish to dictate too much, for I wish you to put your own mark upon the event, Lady Habersham."

 

Her painting, the painting he'd painted for her, was very near now. In fact his pause at the botanicals might have even been last minute nerves that she might not like it.

[Blackguard]

"Quite true ... George. And you must call me Edith if we are to cast off the cloaks of impersonal acquaintance. Speaking of cloaks, have you noticed that the prices of such have doubled in the recent season? Outrageous I say. My late husband was quite convinced that that tailors conspired every Christmas. That is why I purchase all winter attire in the Spring. It is the only time that one can deal with merchants upon an equilibrium."

 

Realizing that perhaps she had prattled a bit on advise that was likely well-known to a seasoned man like George, he tried to save herself by adding a fashion angle. "Ermine lining is the best, don't you think? So costly though. But fox is so ... common."

 

Back on the subject of art, Edith was intrigued with his own eloquence on the topic. As she studied the botanical subjects, she inquired "tell me George, if you had a still life painted of yourself, what five objects would you place on the canvas to convey the secrets of your life?"

[George Hardwick III]

The Earl gave a mute nod of acceptance, smiling to himself of the advancement to their friendship with her giving him her Christian name. She of course rushed past the detail in that way of hers, that he wondered might be a touch related to a feminine embarrassment? Ladies did chatter so much, it was like they wished to minimise the gravity of anything they said by an excessive quantity - that the things truly important were hidden, sometimes even lost. Men could hardly be blamed for not gleaning the wheat from the chaff! But George thought himself to understand an importance to her in the progress - and he was content of it.

 

"I have noticed that indeed, there is certainly a relationship between the timly desire for an item and the price of it. Your late husband must have appreciated your forethought a great deal, though I can hardly imagine he'd have begrudged a few pounds for your happiness, Edith." he completed upon use of her name with a smile.

 

"Oh now, there is a question!" he gave a surprised laugh as she redirected his rhetoric upon him.

 

"Well, I would wish my family manor to be background, though it is not really an object at all." he paused, reflecting of the subject. "I would like to give this some more thought. Yet I would think an easel, a fine hat and walking stick, a bible, and a glass globe within which an impossibly idyllic scene is portrayed." feeling satisfied with that last addition, he gave a wry smile. "I hope you are not immediately enlightened of me! Naturally man and women both wish to hold a little mystery about their nature."

 

"And what of you - what items might you sit amidst?"

 

Here they walked on to the next grouping, primarily mountainscapes, magnificently heavy looking mountains topped with blue-tipped snow. One of which caught all manner of prysmic colours from the sun on the snow. While another had no snow at all, but instead set amidst vast rockiness, view beyond hidden in mist, stood a valiant thistle in valiant blues, purples and green.

 

The Earl fell silent, there being a moment of hopeful anticipation about his form.

[Blackguard]

George might be correct about women using prattling to avoid uncomfortable topics, preferring comfortable ones to ones less tested. Of course, when it came to Edith Habersham, prattling could accompany most any topic, serious or not.

 

Edith listened to his five objects, nodding slightly, but George might tell that she was not satisfied that such a common list would satisfy her. She saw in him something finer that the pretense of formality. Before she could add her own critique, he reflected her own question back upon her

 

"I should think a cloud, far away. An aged scroll." She kept thinking. "I rather liked that crystal vase." She hummed to herself as she thought. "A faded courtly fan of a once bright color ... with tassles I think. Gold tassles George." She paused before choosing the last. "Opera glasses I think. That would be quite appropriate." She gave him a contented look even though she was wondering whether one item might replace another.

 

On to mountainscapes they went. Each met with close inspection, as if she were about to make suggestions to improve each. As much as she wanted to make the suggestions, George might be surprised to find Edith holding her tongue. She thought some of the mountains too pointed and another to use too much purple. Nevertheless, she held her tongue though she occasionally shook her head. It was the last that caused her gloved hands to clap as she leaned in to observe the thistle. "This one is perfect. The mist makes a noble rainment for the lone protagonist." Was that something in her eye? She reached for a kerchief as her eyes filled with tears.

[George Hardwick III]

"Some I can understand, others I need meditate upon..." George replied in a tone what was satisfied with the verdict. It had been her first choice, of a distant cloud that was most cryptic to him, but it was satisfying for not everything to obvious.

 

Yet then they came to the grouping he'd hidden her gift within. His concern that she might not recognise it was quickly put to rest, indeed, she even clapped. It was a soft muted sound though her gloves, yet the bright of her face was striking with it.

 

As she reached for handkerchief, the Earl was quick to supply his own, and he smiled. Feeling good, very good inside. It was plain that she loved it.

 

"Let us pair our gifts for afternoon tea, set your painting upon my easel, while we take a break." George suggested sensibly, assisting Edith past an emotional moment. He made a gesture to the servants that they make it be so, and the items were set up near the fireside - while George was content to assist the would-be-patroness of the arts to a chair.

 

"It was time for an intermission don’t you think." he moved to take chair himself, "The viewing of these paintings is but the beginning of it all. Do you know, it's recently occurred to me that we could add an element of excitement to it, if we had a English competition too. A section in our exhibition, especially for entries by the Lords and ladies of Whitehall." It had been Sophia's practically begging him to teach her that had him think that such a think might appeal.

[Blackguard]

A true gentleman always accommodated an emotional moment. Nothing was said but gratitude was felt as she dried her eyes upon George's handkerchief. With a quiet word of thanks, she returned his linen and moved to take a seat. "Quite right," she agreed. "A pairing of the gifts." Hers would look so much better on the Apollo easel.

 

"Some tea would do nicely," she declared as they grew comfortable. Servants moved to fetch some.

 

It was then that the earl laid out his idea for a competition. "If I may," Edith began. It was clear that she was searching for a diplomatic way to criticize it. "Other than yourself, I have yet to find a lord or lady that can do better than the most rudimentary of paintings. It will be like judging the work of children with great vanity. If a work is of insufficient quality, it hurts my eyes and my head. rather, what if we had a contest in which each lord or lady was invited to display a single piece and the winner would be the one that has the most patriotic theme for England. It could be a portrait of the King, a landscape of the cliffs of Dover, a shrouded Stonehenge perhaps, or something to instill pride in being English I should think. Perhaps a royal could be the judge," she offered.

 

"It would cause more attention towards art. Lords would purchase more artwork, which would benefit your students. And ... if one fails to win the competition, it will not be as great a rebuke as it might had they been the artist."

[George Hardwick III]

Settling to tea with both gifts pleasantly within view, George put forth his idea.

 

"Ah." the Earl made an appreciative noise, "I'd not considered that fact. Why you are right, it might only embarrass the very persons who are most likely to purchase or place commissions from the show."

 

"I am so pleased that I have you here, I'd have made a terrible mistake."

 

And Edith’s counter-suggestion was grand. "Both elegant and patriotic. And I would imagine it would appeal to just everybody to show off some precious thing, why not necessarily a painting at all. There are many artforms of course."

 

"Do you think we might manage to gain a Royal judge?" When they had first met, George had been waiting in the Queens presence chamber hopeful to see her Majesty, with a feeble hope that Karoline would put her support towards the exhibition. "Her Majesty might enjoy that role, it could only be beneficial to her reputation, and not tax her overly..." in her condition.

 

"I love the idea." George practically gushed as he picked up the teapot to pour.

[Blackguard]

Edith tutted softly as George realized the errors of his ways. Matrons took great comfort when the young heeded their advice. They relished it with satisfied smiles and quiet murmurs. It was rude to do anything more to suggest that the young would be lost without the old.

 

There was another motive in her suggestion. As she had been gaining the confidence of Lady Newcastle in the Ladies Order of Saint George, Edith had suggested some patriotic activities as a way to lift up the native born English lords and ladies over the foreigners, and the Protestants over the Catholic. This art exhibit would be a nice event for the Ladies to support.

 

"I will sit in the Queen's audience chamber until she agrees ... or I forget why I am there," she laughed, mostly at herself. It gave her another cause to champion and George was correct that it would be fitting for the Queen to take the lead, even though she was a foreigner. "As an alternative, we could ask Princess Mary when she returns ... or perhaps the King himself. There is a very fine gentleman, Lord Kingston, who is close to the King. he would assist in thsi regard. Like you, he understands what it means to be a gentleman." She was quite fond of that blond lord too.

[George Hardwick III]

While George had no qualms of admitting when he was wrong. The prideful arrogance of making error after (avoidable!) error was put behind him as he now would set best foot forwards. Yet what he found most remarkable, was that taking others into his confidence was not demeaning at all, but rather, felt like a growing of kindly community about him. Like feathers softening his approach. Thus far he'd Edith, Beverly, Duncan and Louis to add to his slowly but steadily increasing circle. Not that he would count any chickens before they were hatched, but life seemed much upon the improve. This square peg might one day fit into courts round hole.

 

"Than I shall know where I might find you." he said of that. It seemed a wholly miraculous thing for her to consider assisting him thus. "My own first choice would be the Queen, but I would defer to your judgement upon that. Princess Mary may enjoy a formal engagement perhaps, a very grown up activity." People of court tended to think of her as a girl still, perhaps that would change now she was married?

 

"But His Majesty is also a supporter of the arts, and he is surely most qualified to judge is something is patriotic or not!" a laugh at that.

 

"I believe I met Lord Kingston very briefly in passing." had it been Louis who'd introduced George at the House of Lords? Never mind, suffice to say that he knew of Buckingham’s favorites, Samuel had talked about Francis a good deal. So much so that this dark haired Earl had been a little green eyed. "But there are so many fields for Gentlemen to take a lead in, it would be pleasant, don’t you think, for us to Champion a woman’s judgement in this."

[Blackguard]

"Yes, quite right to champion ladies in this. there are far too few opportunities for a lady to officiate at anything meaningful," she agreed. "An earlier Lord Mayor of London once refused to let his wife officiate at a sheep shearing event. The poor woman was nothing but an adornment to the Mayor's behind, if you do not mind me speaking so bluntly. She was a woman with intelligence and he trusted her not with anything, not a household budget, nor spending more than her own pin money. It really was sad to watch. I think she prayed daily to be rid of the man; but, she was taken before him. It is part of God's way at times."

 

"The Queen would be wise to not let opportunities pass by, lest no further opportunities come her way." It would be the argument she would use with the young royal. "We shall save the King, and Lord Kingston, for something more ... martial perhaps. Yes?" She offered George a sweet smile. "I shall visit the presence room on the morrow.""

[George Hardwick III]

"Well that is just sad." the Earl stated of the tale, his brows furrowed for the poor woman who'd never got a chance to shine.

 

There had been a time when such a plight would have distracted him, and he'd have found himself creating some charity for the elevation of brow beaten's hopes. But he'd learnt that was not his place in the world. "Yes, it is gods way sometimes. Ours is to do all we can within our own social arenas. You, my dear Edith, Patroness of an Art Show, might come to be the example future 'mayors wives' need to cite to their husbands, to make the difference in their lives."

 

"And I... well I want many things, but from this I desire Whitehall to let me into their hearts. Ha, tall request I suppose. Well then perhaps into the entrance of their hearts then. Is that a ventricle? I think they call it a ventricle."

 

"Yes, let us save Kingston and His Majesty for something more martial." he smiled towards the lady, who's sweetness at that moment made him pressed not to chuckle of it. It was as though she'd gotten him to say exactly what she wanted, as though somehow she'd perfectly manipulated him, and he was too naive to have even know it. Yet he hardly cared.

 

 

 

OOC: If you like, this might be a nice point to fade out on our scene into a pleasant remainder of afternoon looking at the art? my hopes being to have George pick up posting at the Ambassadors party.

[Blackguard]

And so the afternoon passed with further banter about art, including ideas for the exhibition. Edith was happy to relate, whether welcomed or not, her favorite memories of all the art presentations she had attended over he years. The same was true for any other topics the Earl might raise.

 

At last, reluctantly, it was time for the matron to take her leave. It had been a most enjoyable day for the Lady of the Thistle.

 

~finis