Visiting the Portuguese | Afternoon, 31st- Xmas 1677

[Douglas FitzJames]

Sofia's situation was untenable. Douglas himself had the power to change it, but despite the warmth that her affection would bring he wasn't certain that he wanted to. Duncan's suggestion that morning had thrown another rock into the carriage wheel, but the appointment had been made and Douglas would not be seen as failing his word. He wanted to do something for Sofia de Castelo, who deserved so much better; he just wasn't certain what.

 

Clad in his best officer's uniform, Douglas mounted the steps and knocked sharply on the door. "Baron Dundarg. His Excellency is expectin' me." He told the servant who answered it, being careful to speak as clearly as he could. He would have to watch his pronounciation, he knew from experience. But Diego de Silva had been a most pleasant fellow last time they'd met, perhaps together they could solve the poor girl's dilemma.

[Hope]

The door was being opened for the man in uniform, even as he announced that he was expected. A nod was given, and the door was shut behind. "That he is, may I take your hat and cloak Lord Dundarg?"

 

The servant was prepared to settle the Scots outerwear to hook and stand - there was a mirror conveniently placed, should he want to make any minor repairs before being presented.

 

"Lord DeSilva is receiving in the emerald room, if you will follow me." And so Douglas was taken directly through...

 

The embassy was a rather still building, as hush as a library even, though boots resounded upon the marble marking progress. It was one of the smaller rooms on the south side that he was delivered to, the door pushed open as he was announced. "Lord Dundarg to see you, your Excellency."

 

It was one of the more homely rooms of the grand old building, the walls of which were lined with tapestries and paintings of Portugal. There were but two chairs arranged near the roaring fire, with a cards table set between them. One of those chairs held a familiar figure.

 

DeSilva looked up from his newspaper, and stood. "Ah, timely as I had expected. Happy Christmas season Lord Dundarg, do come in and take a seat." the older man gave a nod to his servant, a signal sent to have the kitchen bring in afternoon tea.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Handing off his cavalier’s hat and the heavy red wool cloak with the red fox fur on the shoulders, Douglas carefully wiped his boots on the mat inside the door before following the servant through to the Emerald room. Not before straightening his officer’s coat in front of the mirror. His lank black hair couldn’t be helped in this weather; it was almost like home.

 

What wasn’t like home was the Embassy building, rather it’s echoing grandeur spoke to Douglas of past success. With Queen Catherine’s passing the Portuguese had lost their privileged position amongst the foreign presences, and the finery of the large embassy spoke to Douglas of power gone past. The meagre number of staff only seemed to emphasise the impression.

 

Fortunately the Emerald room was more homely and comfortable, and less echoingly grand than the rooms through which he’d walked. The Conde de Ponte was taking his ease by the fire, and Douglas bowed politely to the man, who had always been polite to him. “Yer Excellency; a fine an’ Blessed Christmas to ye as weel.” He replied in turn, taking the indicated chair opposite the man. “Hou’s yer famly?”* He asked politely.

 

It had been some time since Douglas had spoken with the Portuguese Ambassador. It had been before he’d taken Sofia to the Ball. Once the man had been quite concerned for the erstwhile Queen’s Lady, or at least her representation of her home country. Now he wondered where the man stood.

 

Subtitles

* “Your Excellency; a fine and Blessed Christmas to you as well. How’s your family?”

[Hope]

"My son is traveling still, when last I heard he was in Sao Vicente, Brazil." Which was a Portuguese settlement in Brazil, part of the Brazilian empire, "There shall be no snow for him this Christmas!"

 

Folding his paper once, he set it over the arm of his chair, kindly eyes taking in the appearance of his visitor. The officer was not as thin as he had been previous season, but he did have a new sort of focus about him, like the cares of the world weighed more heavily on his shoulders. Though that may just be the impression he had formed from his preceeding letter?

 

"And your own family?"

[Douglas FitzJames]

Brazil! Now there was somewhere as exotic as the Carib. How intriguing. ”Nae snow indeed, thou’ haps he’ll be glad o’ the heat?” Douglas suggested, thinking that it would be more pleasant than London’s slush. Alright, he wasn’t particularly fond of the heat, but Portugal was warmer, right? “I kin ainly imagine that winter in London is awfu’ cauld compared tae Portugal.”* Not that he’d spent any time there.

 

His own family? Lord, where to begin? His elder two sisters regularly drove him nuts, but that wasn’t for anyone else to know. “My sisters er weel thank ye, thou’ th’roads doon frae Scotland were nearly snooed in this year; but we’re aw in London noo.” That would be a contrast to warmer climes. “Shona – the middle’un – is debutin’ an’ finding coort tae be int’resting, if a wee bit o’erwhelmin’. She haes a quiet disposition.”** The Lord only knew where she’d got that.

 

That was the pleasantries, perhaps time to get to the meat of the meeting. “Speakin’ o’ fam’ly, I’m concerned aboot thaim that dinnae hae ony they can caw on.” He said delicately. “Specifically Lairdy Sofia de Castelo, wha yer’ll recall is a friend o’ mine.” How much should he say? “T’seems tae me that a Lairdy o’ her breedin’ shuid be livin’ in better circumstances.”*** For Sofia’s were quite poor really, by the standards of nobility.

 

Subtitles

* “No snow indeed, though perhaps he’ll be glad of the heat? I can only imagine that winter in London is awfully cold compared to Portugal.”

** “My sisters are well thank you, though the roads down from Scotland were nearly snowed in this time of year; but we’re all in London now. Shona – that’s the middle one – is debuting and finding court to be interesting, if a little bit overwhelming. She has a quiet disposition.”

*** “Speaking of family, I’m concerned about those that don’t have any they can call on. Specifically Lady Sofia de Castelo, who you’ll recall is a friend of mine. It seems to me that a Lady of her breeding should be living in better circumstances.”

[Hope]

OOC: apologies, I'd forgotten to bookmark this and so it escaped my eye.

IC:

 

"I'd not say awful." the elder man chuckled, "different perhaps. But you'd have your own comparisons between a Scottish Christmas and English. Even countries without a barrier of ocean can have notable differences of customs. I don’t think one can judge one as better than the other. But a man shall ever have a fondness, a feeling of 'rightness' for the Christmas of his own home."

 

He was after all a politician, and knew how to ‘polite speak’ - and any ambassador was not about to disparage London to a soldier of the Life guard!

 

Douglas spoke of the middle girl debuting, and struggling with it. "I dare say it is difficult to watch over such a one. I never had any girls." just one son, "though perhaps it is not so different to the concern a Father feels for a son, seeing him struggle, yet knowing to help him succeed is not the lesson he needs ot learn."

 

"Lady de Castelo?" Douglas then came to the reason for his visit, his expression, his tone, all said it was of gravity to him. Diego nodded, repeating Douglas phrase, "Living in better circumstances."

 

A small smile tugged at Diego's mouth, as he understood the man wished to court. "No doubt you are correct. She was one of the favourites Ladies in Waiting, and honoured by King Charles himself. Yet the situation with her brother leaves her in a situation less than ordinary. I am sure she would be grateful of your consideration for her comfort... she is of a good age, and a sensible woman, it takes a prudent man to note her worth."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas wasn't overly fond of London and it's warm, wet climate; the place was a means to an end. What he was fond of was the people who gathered there from across the Kingdom, friends and family it warmed his heart to see again. And a few who pulled at his heart strings.

 

The big man nodded as the older man spoke of the concern of a father for his son, along with the knowledge that the son must have his own adventures. "Aye, father fer son an' brothair fer sisters." He replied in agreement. The fact that he was only their half brother didn't lessen his fondness for them. "Shona weel find her feet; she's a guid lass an' weel make a man a fine, gentle wife someday."* He opined. She was being gently but firmly coached into court, and doing reasonably well considering. He doubted that she'd ever be a court butterfly though, thank the Lord.

 

The conversation turned to the meat of the subject, and as Douglas spoke of Sofia the Ambassador made the obvious assumption. He was, perhaps, not entirely incorrect; Douglas wasn't certain what he wanted. He liked Sofia very much, and knew that she wanted him which held perhaps more appeal than it should. But however fine a woman she didn't bring much to the union, and the Ambassador alluded to the reason why.

 

"Weel ye tell me aboot the situation wi' her brothair?"** Douglas asked, bluntly. It was, he felt, the sort of thing any man courting would wish to know. He knew the man had supported the wrong claimant to the throne and been exiled, but that was it. What did that mean for the man's family, estates and holdings? Which was more what he was interested in.

 

Subtitles

* "Yes, father for son and brother for sisters. Shone will find her feet; she's a good girl and will make a man a fine, gentle wife someday."

** "Will you tell me about the situation with her brother?"

[Hope]

"A fair question." the ambassador allowed, shifting some in his seat to have a better angle towards Douglas as he begun.

 

"It is politics, as these things often are." he begun.

 

"Many years ago now, back the time that Portugal and France sided with England against Spain. Portugal, under the regency of Queen Luisa, sent Catherine of Braganza to marry King Charles II. Shortly after that King Alfonzo had his mother removed to a convent and claimed his rule. This was done with the help of his favourite, Count of Castelo Melhor, and some might say was the brains behind Alfonzo's success. But the Kings younger Brother Pedro plotted to overthrow his Alfonzo. Pedro had a pool of support, for the Alfonzo was both mentally and physically weak."

 

Meanwhile a servant entered silently, and arranged the tea things, which included a plater with buttered slices of caraway seed cake. The ambassador took a side place, but then gestured for Douglas to take a slice first.

 

"Pedro now rules Portugal as Regent, and Sophia was evicted from Lisborn while her brother was imprisoned. Pedro has a long memory, so that returning to Portugal is not an option for Sofia."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas nodded his understanding when the Ambassador stipulated that Sofia’s family trouble was politics; so much was, amongst the nobility. He knew it had something to do with her brother and a question of royal succession that resulted in his punishment, but little more than that, and so he listened with interest. “Thank ye.” Douglas said quietly as the Ambassador deferred to him over the tea things, taking a slice of cake as the tea was poured and enjoying a bit as the story wound to it’s sad close.

 

The Scotsman drew a hissing breath in through his teeth. “A hard thing, tae lose both her family’s status an’ her brothair’s freedom in one dae.” He observed quietly. “Nae doobt she fears she micht ne’er see either her brothair er her childhood home agin.”* And perhaps that explained a few things about the woman, knowing how much stress and strain she’d had to be strong through. And now she was largely alone in a country of strangers and no longer a sweetheart of the court.

 

“Nae doobt t’was a difficult time fer Portugal as weel, an’ those wha represent her.” He mused. Such upheavals always had flow-on effects, both for the court and for the country, at home and abroad. “Wha wuid be mindin’ her family’s estates whilk her brothair is imprisoned?”** He asked, trying to think of the best way to ask whether there might be any option of Sofia getting either a dowry or some form of inheritance. It would be difficult for her to find a match without one.

 

Subtitles

* A difficult thing, to lose both her home and her brother’s freedom in one day. No doubt she fears she might never see either her brother or her childhood home again.”

** “No doubt it was a difficulot time for Portugal as well, and those who represent her. Who would be minding her family’s estates whilst her brother is imprisoned?”

[Hope]

"Actually he is exiled rather than imprisoned." the detail returned to him. "In Paris I believe. As far as any family estates and property, and there was a vast sum that the ambitious Luis acquired - all seized by the crown and awarded to those they saw fit."

 

The ambassador was wise enough to see that Douglas wondered if there was some silvered lining that might come with a match for Sofia

 

A slice of cake settled upon his own plate he used his cake fork to cut then lift a piece, pausing before he added, "Her brother is Captain-Major of Santa Maria Island for what that counts." after swallowing his mouthful he then supplied, "any prospective match for Lady Sofia need be a man

not seeking a fortune, but rather one looking for a level headed, self possessed and graceful mistress for his house. Alas, there are too few men seeking such."

 

"It is really best if she can align herself with spinsterhood." It was s shame for the girl, but she was not the first nor would she be the last passed over.