The expected visit after (a cont.) | Dec 30 am- Xmas 1677

[Francis Kirke]

By now Buckingham had to be used to Francis' embarrassed blush. Francis should have been more prepared for the question he was asked in return, but he had idiotically not expected it.

 

Or perhaps it was just that after hearing what Buckingham had found that summer, Francis suddenly felt so deficient that his answer just seemed bland no matter how he might put it.

 

His mind fluttered for something amusing to say.

 

Then the moment had become too long for any apt timing.

 

Then he really felt he needed to say something witty just to give himself something to feel other than foolish.

 

By now he is either congratulating himself on his gift that has made me ridiculously speechless of my own or concerned of what I might be gifting...

 

So finally, he answered, "I would not be entirely lying if I said that I do not know yet..." Nevermind that it was two days before official public gifting. Nevermind that he could probably pick a later time to give a gift since he did see the king with some regularity. "I too see the benefit of gifts with more intangible qualities, and I have something in the works, but..."

 

It was not often Francis did not have words, and good ones, but he simply trailed off and shrugged. There was a distinct element of the gesture that made him seem more the age of his looks. Barely of age.

[Blackguard]

Francis seemed to be struggling with gift ideas. Tell me you have something already. By the odd behavior, George was beginning to suspect his fears were true.

 

"Well, you have two days to find something," he replied with a sarcastic tone. He did not wish to sound harsh but he wished to help his nephew see the wisdom of advance planning. "Something in the works?" He was goading the younger man to reveal more. The fact that he was so reluctant to speak only made the Duke become all the more interested.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis had the hardwired response of returning to the more formal, "Yes, Your Grace," at the sarcastic snap.

 

Clearly, he had already realized he was something of an idiot over the matter or else he would not have had a hard time spitting it out. He felt quite ridiculous now, and it was one of those emotions that no Villiers ever coped well experiencing.

 

"I wished to find a book or manuscript related to His Majesty's love of inventions and mechanical things. You recall when he showed me that underwater craft in his closet?" Francis paused after reminding his uncle of the occasion. It was likely where Francis had stoked that "familiar feeling" that both spoke of. "I enlisted Mr. Potts to source something my master doesn't have already and have yet to hear."

 

So perhaps not quite as utterly unprepared as he had originally made it seem. In comparison to Buckingham's grand gift and preparation, it seemed that way to Francis.

 

"Perhaps I need a back-up plan," he admitted sheepishly.

 

"I am far more prepared to ensure His Majesty can have a fun end to a day of enduring hundreds of gifts and to ensure that our Mistress Envy has an opportunity to shine than to actually give a gift of my own, I suppose..." He could not remember if he had told his uncle about his plan with Nicolette for Saturday evening.

[Blackguard]

"Yes, a back up plan, so to speak," Buckingham nodded and empathized. "I should say that your original idea was fine." He did not want to so dishearten Francis after all. "Here is how I would have done it were I you. First, I would seek to learn the area of greatest scientific interest to your master in 1678. Then, you commission some academic person to author something. You give him 90 days to complete a summary of what is known and what might be possible. You pay him a modest sum and then you give the original manuscript to your Master for his birthday or new year. It really is that simple and it ensures that the gift is original." He offered a broad smile at the advice he had dispensed. "It has worked for me before." He offered a quick wink and then went about shuffling his correspondence again. It seemed to help him think clearly.

 

"As a back up, tell him that you are thinking of changing the name of one of your ships ... or purchase some luxurious river vessel. As a gift, let him name it." It played with the motif of Kingston being a naval man and along with the pleasure cruise he had arranged earlier in the year. It allowed the King to choose his favorite name. It was a small thing but the King might enjoy it. "And he shall want to come aboard to see his ship in the future, assuring yourself of his presence at some exclusive affair in the future."

 

Sitting back in his chair, Buckingham folded his arms across his chest and smirked. He was awaiting another compliment as to his ingenious ways.

[Francis Kirke]

It was not difficult to be in awe of a man like Buckingham, but he seemed even more ingenious when he was your uncle (or any sort of relation). Francis felt his inexperience, but he neglected to factor in that Buckingham knew what it was like to be prince-like and thus what gifts stuck and also that Buckingham had grown up with the King like a brother. Those were two advantages that Francis could never match no matter what.

 

So, of course, as Buckingham unfolded an improved plan, as Francis should have made it, in less than thirty seconds, Francis' mouth parted slightly in wonder at these abilities.

 

"The lesson I get for assuming I can gift appropriately on my own, I suppose," Francis remarked, with a sigh. Still navigating this new world and all the things one thinks one does not need to learn...

 

"Who knew that learning all of court at the knee of the greatest duke involved even the statecraft of gifting," Francis joked, harking to a particular bit of the Duke's own words that Francis liked to refer to in witty ways. "I should have asked you to help me from the start."

 

And a little bit of pride was swallowed. Perhaps it was a bit healthy. He had not swallowed much of it after his grandfather had passed and before he had inherited swallowing some from his uncle.

 

"All very ingenious. Building an entire new craft would be expensive but ingenious none-the-less." Francis had a difficult time internalizing that he had more funds of his own now that his uncle had taken up his living expenses and the like. "You know His Majesty so intimately well." There was a lament that he did not know as much as even the others who served the King. It was difficult to compete on one's own two feet, and it was hard to remember that was what family patriarchs were for to begin with.

[Blackguard]

"Do you think so little of me that you see me as the greatest Duke of statecraft in only gift giving?" He intentionally misinterpreted Kingston's words, just to force his nephew to add more florid flattery. He could not help but smirk at his ploy. It was an old trick of his.

 

"But I am here to help you now," he assured him with the continuing smirk. "Think of a new vessel as an investment. You can always sell it later to someone who wants the Kings' favor, or give it as a gift to the King later." Money was of little matter to a man like Buckingham. "Are you in need of some coin?"

[Francis Kirke]

Francis opened his mouth to deliver on the Duke's desires. He had done so often enough, proving that he could flatter at the drop of a coin. It was a skill of trading that he had not entirely realized translated quite well to statecraft.

 

"Of course n---." He paused. His eyes narrowed some. "Are you teasing me, Sir?" He rolled his eyes that he had fallen for it at all. Served him right for his repeated use of the phrase was, in it's own right, teasing Buckingham. In a flattering way, at least.

 

He nodded along as the duke spoke of the wisdom of a vessel and then another doozy of a question. Francis blushed again, perhaps even a bit more so than the previous time. He looked down, then away, then wet his lips.

 

"I..." He frowned. Apparently, the duke took to consuming people with questions when he was woken early. Duncan was not the only one! He had simply escaped the earlier inquisition!

 

"I fear if I were to make such a gift, it would have to be of a scope and expense that I do not have the coin to undertake. And nor could I ask you to fund even my gift for His Majesty." That feeling of disappointing came back up, marinated in some unease over feeling it as charity. The same feeling that had always made Christmastide uncomfortable for him to begin with, as he had already confessed. Perhaps not in so many words.

 

"And it is not what I am, and my master would know that. He would know your part in it, and I am not sure my meager bit of Villiers vanity can handle that."

 

How easy it would be to take everything Buckingham might offer and ask for even more. Francis had far more attempts at refusing excess than coveting or soliciting it.

 

He did not fully understand all the eccentricities of being the nephew of a duke. The only nephew of a very rich duke. He, his pretty blond head, and his little cub roar was as much a sound investment for Buckingham as any dozen things the duke financed profligately. This was something Francis did not understand. The way he saw things was flawed, in that nobles lived by entirely different rules and expectations.

[Blackguard]

"Moi? Tease?" Buckingham gave the same feigned innocent look that Francis might. "Nonsense."

 

When Francis revealed the state of his finances and his Villiers pride, the Duke maintained an emotionless face. No need to make the lad any more uncomfortable for the moment. He had given his nephew a chance to ask for money. He did not, and earned credit thereby ... not that he would begrudge a request for something meaningful.

 

"The answer then is to gift him a model ship for his royal bath," Buckingham announced with a loud laugh, "with a busty maiden on the bow perhaps."

[Francis Kirke]

"You do not ease the pain," was his faux complaint.

 

Ironically, Buckingham's loud laugh and suggestion were not complete nonsense.

 

"I do have model ships...Ones that I have made." Currently, the only blonde figurine on said ship was not busty. "I doubt if they would make tub companions, but perhaps the King would like to rename my flagship. I have a model of her. I named it Argento after the silver plate, but the King renamed me, so it seems fitting."

 

The name had been a placeholder of sorts, and one he had never expected to cease to need. The Christening plate had been all that he knew of his true father, so he had marked it on his business as if it were a name.

 

"Or is that very silly?" He truly had little idea of the King's taste in gifts.

[Blackguard]

"There you go," Buckingham complimented. "Now you are thinking. Give him the model and naming rights. If I attempted such a thing, however, he would select the most embarrassing name he could conjure and see whether I would hold true with my promise." He paused to give Francis a look that invited a comment as to whether the King might feel comfortable enough with his new gentleman to do the same.

 

"Maybe I would include with the model something small you brought back from your last journey, perhaps some snuff or tobacco. Your master will like a little taste of something that came from the ship I should think," the Duke advised.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis chuckled, now conjuring what embarrassing names the King might have inflicted upon the Duke. Saying it that way made it seem like the punishment for losing a bet and the reward for the winner.

 

"Pah," the younger blond volunteered. "Is that truly something to fear?" He grinned. "If my master was so comfortable with me, I should take it as a compliment. Not everyone can claim to be close enough to the King to have inside jokes and such familiarity."

 

Plus, he really rather doubted the King would give him so daring or embarrassing of a name as he might give his uncle. Theirs was a sibling rivalry, a competition of conundrum, for one could claim elder brother and the other was king. Francis did not have Buckingham's ego to have a need to be laughed down a peg.

 

"And I have a notion that he might get more of a kick out of doing such to you far more so than me," he voiced.

 

As to some goods to go with the gift, Francis nodded, "I have tobacco and opium blends..."

[Blackguard]

"He would do it to you, just to get to me," Buckingham insisted. Being a narcissist, he could only imagine the King using Francis to score a point against himself. "He might name it the Duke's Arse, you just wait and see!" the older man warned, all the while chuckling about a memory to which Francis would not be privy. "I'm never going to let him name another of my boats."

 

"Some blend from far away," the Duke supplied as a suggestion. "You could tell him it was from the orient." Something exotic was always better to a man who could have anything ordinary with a snap of the fingers. "Whether it was true or not," he added with a chuckle.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis merely smiled softly, not at all bothered by the possibilities or implications. There was a little bit of daring in it all, and whilst he was sentenced away from the sea, a little bit of daring in what his flagship might soon become seemed quite entertaining.

 

Whether it was comical or not comical, Francis could at least own it knowing it came from the King, so what wrong could anyone see in it?

 

After the moment's pause, he said, "Well, Sir, if he names it the Duke's Arse, I doubt he shall wish to mount it and nor shall I, ever again." He tittered a bit as he tried to hold in his laugh.

 

"Exotic I am quite good at." Then he hmmed, "I sense a odd pattern of talents: exotic, erotic, esoteric." His blue eyes then looked at Buckingham's expecting him to blurt out a few more, likely ones none so flattering. His uncle was a far better wordsmith.

 

"Do you wish to instruct me on the specifics of what I should gift to you and how I should go about doing it?" he asked, with an innocent bat of blond lashes. He was joking, but he was curious what the man would say nevertheless.

[Blackguard]

Buckingham could not help but laugh at the quip about mounting the Duke's Arse. "I would purchase the vessel for myself and make everyone kiss it upon entering," he quipped back. It was all in good fun.

 

Similarly, the game of talents mandated that he continue his nephew's examples. "Exquisite, enlightened, or empowered per chance?"

 

As for gift ideas for himself, he was quick to reply "my due of course." By that he meant undoing all the wrongs visited upon him by the King in their long relationship. It was still a sore spot for him. "You have not the power to bestow it, so I shall take it myself." His plans were coming together this season and he sensed fruition of long laid plans. "The best gift is one that fills a need that was unknown to the recipient," he answered philosophically. "Of course, there is always a nice warm muffler," he offered less sincerely.

[Francis Kirke]

"Then I shall recoup my losses either way, and shall get to watch a bunch of peacocking courtiers kiss your arse in a more novel way," Francis replied. "That is what I call win-win!"

 

He chuckled. Actually, most of my life is now watching people get their arses kissed...my life is watching hands and arses get kissed... The strange thought made him blink. How could he be enjoying that?

 

"I suspect that anyone who has attempted to muffle the Duke of Buckingham does not long live to speak of the attempt to others." He grinned, "Besides, I would not wish to outdo yours and the duchess' gifting of winter-wear to me."

 

His eyes widened some, perhaps betraying he had a sudden witty remark come to mind.

 

"As to your gift. Now seems as fitting as any time. A man as well-traveled and lavish as Your Grace not only has most things in life but has had most experiences of life. However, there was one quite missing," Francis led in with such a sugary tongue, that he was laying it on particularly thick. "You did not know that you needed a nephew, but clearly you did. After all, I am exquisite, as you say." He offered a jaunty little bow that was more drama than actual humility.

 

"So, Happy Christmas, Uncle." He smiled sweetly, giving two bats of long, blond eyelashes. It was his best impression of a spoiled child, and if it was apt, it was all acting alone, because Francis had never been spoiled.

[Blackguard]

"Quite wise," Buckingham replied to the quips from Francis about winter wear. "I suppose you shall have to consider summer attire then," he jested.

 

The older man began to suspect where Francis was heading but played along with appropriate nodding of the head. "Why of course, a nephew," he played along. "And a fine replacement you are." Perhaps Francis would recall that Buckingham had a nephew Esme by his sister, who died of smallpox at the age of 10.

 

"And I suppose that you did not realize you needed an exquisite uncle -- one that is the envy of England. Is not basking in my presence sufficient succor to carry you well through the holidays and into the next year." He mimicked the spoiled child look, only too happy to enjoy the juvenile moment. It was rare that one as storied as himself could be so unguarded. "So it is that we both have received the finest of new year's presents it seems ... ." He paused to see how Francis would react to that.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis took some pride in trying to not do exactly as the duke anticipated in these moments of jesting. When one played a part, best to go all the way, not by halves. Or even further than all the way, it was something of a competition after all.

 

"But, Sir! Despite your presence being quite the motivation, uncles are meant to spoil their nephews rotten, are they not? You could not have your generosity outdone by another," he led in, and then took a witty swipe and finished, "unless by His Majesty, of course."

 

"Not to mention basking in your tutelage has given me quite the greedy palate for all forms of courtly accoutrements and vices." He could hardly keep a straight face. "I am expecting greatness." He made little finger explosions with both his hands as he said greatness.

 

The only truth to it was that Buckingham was having to teach him to be as materialistic as any good courtier. Francis was not even good at doing it jokingly.

[Blackguard]

"It is grandparents that spoil the child," Buckingham corrected playfully. "Uncles are supposed to be aloof and judgmental, as I recall. The only good from them is when they die and leave the nephew some money, or so I have been led to believe." He adopted a serious expression when adding "I fear I have not been aloof enough." It was all in good fun. If Francis wanted to ticle the Duke, the only counter play was to pretend seriousness.

 

"Greed, vice and vanity. Lovely," the Duke lamented sarcastically. "It seems you have learned well the depravity that is Whitehall. And now you would have me feed the beast within you, rather than lock you in a cell to save your soul?" Anticipating a retort, George cautioned "I have already lost my soul. Tis too late to save it. But, a good uncle should do what he can to save his nephew, don't you think?"

[Francis Kirke]

Francis tried not to smile too much; it ruined the game some, he felt, if it was too clearly just play.

 

"Respectfully, Your Grace, you have that all wrong." It was thoroughly enjoyable to tell the duke he was wrong, because he'd likely never get the opportunity other than in jest. "In my experience, grandfathers are not so. Grandfathers give you good birchings. Uncles, then, must be the spoilers, for who else - as you say - would gratuitously give their nephews money? All young gentlemen would be broke were it not for their benefactors and surely that is always who breaks them in to all the pleasures of decadence? It is fathers, I am told, who are judgemental and wish their sons to be great, proper gentlemen. "

 

He purposefully kept his loose logic childlike.

 

"Is this a bait and switch then, Sir. For so far you have spoiled me. And whose example led me to such grand things, Uncle? I thought that was what you wished of me, but if you wish me to read Bible verses to my master the King, I shall be happy to do so on your recommendation." He nodded earnestly and fluttered his lashes sweetly.

 

"So long as you spoil me," he added.

[Blackguard]

"Au contraire," Buckingham retorted, never one to lose an argument. "The grandfather suggests to the father that the son does not measure up. The father birches the boy and then the grandfather goes behind the father's back and pretends sympathy to win the boy's love. Your own grandfather was quite indulgent of you I believe. The uncle ignores the whole thing, having his own household as a distraction and having little time to supervise his brother's child. The nephew sends the distant uncle a letter just before his birthday and the holidays just to remind the uncle that he would like present in addition to the generosity visited upon him by his own parents. Uncles then pretend they never received such correspondence, preferring instead to pat the lad on the head when next they meet and remind him that he was nearly an infant when the uncle last visited. Distances must be maintained Francis. The uncle grows old and bitter, thinking no one is worthy of his largesse; but, in the final moments of life realizes that he has to do something with his money, lest the Crown take it to subsidize another royal mistress, he leaves a sum to nephew hoping that the boy, with proper finances will not sully the family name and therefore sully the deceased uncle's legacy thereby. It is really that simple. Nowhere in this narrative is there anything about an uncle spoiling a nephew," he emphasized with pretended seriousness.

 

"As for being spoiled, I think your master has already done it. Why, as you are, you are hardly worthy of any lady ... taking after your master and your illustrious uncle." He was purposefully using a different definition of "spoiled."

 

"Yes, I fear I am spoiling you too much. Look at you. Before you met me you were a captain of some repute, independent, opinionated, and a terrible dancer ... all things to be perfectly proud of. Now look at you." He started to conjure a list of dandy-like traits but fell to laughing instead, too enamored with his own humor and too cognizant at how silly all of this was becoming. Still, he had no intention of losing the argument.

[Francis Kirke]

"You know, Sir? It strikes me that neither of us can make any determination on the regularity of any familiar affairs, for not a one of the two of us has had one," Francis replied, with a half-amused huff and shake of his head. The duke was quite good at selling most anything convincingly, but one could not change that neither of them had a father, of any normal variety. Buckingham was short of uncles or grandfathers that had lived long, and Francis' only other uncles were his own age. Their ridiculous charade was even more so ridiculous thereby.

 

Nothing about their situation was in any way the usual case of things, but unusual was perhaps a usual way of things for Buckingham.

 

"So, I have realized there is but one recourse to this discourse, and that is that I must be correct if only because the Duke of Buckingham cannot be seen as miserly and ungenerous to his most publicly favoured relation. For I must be your favourite relation if you share your home with me," he laid on with batting eyelashes again. "All of court shall be judging your fluidity by how much your favor your friends and relatives. I must rank high amongst them."

 

Chuckling as the duke called him spoiled he replied, "Qualis dominus talis est servus." He shrugged with an unrepentant grin.

 

He tried not to dissolve into total laughter and said, "And, oh yes, it is certainly all His Majesty's fault. Nephews do not take advises from their uncles, nor emulate them at all." He finally waved his hand, "I cannot. My chest is so tight, I can't breathe." He sputtered. He was not very good at pretending to be a spoiled brat. It was not his style.

 

*Like master, like man

[Blackguard]

"My sister might have issues with who is my favorite relation," the Duke offered with glee, certain that Francis would want nothing of her ill humor. "The rest of court thinks you some waif I took in at the behest of your mother, which is mostly true," he noted with feigned seriousness.

 

"Still, never let it be said that I am a miserly host," he played along, as if deep in thought of what might be worthy. "I think I will double your allowance next year," he announced judiciously. There was a long moment to let that seemingly generous offer sink in. "But then, you receive no allowance currently do you, so it would be safe if I tripled it instead." He was grinning at his mathematical mischief.

[Francis Kirke]

"The duchess does not need to be favoured by you, she is a force unto herself," came Francis' pert quip. She, in fact, outranked her brother, so Francis thought there little evidence she would fawn over such things.

 

"Yes, well, in the first fortnight I knew you, I showed up smelling of the Thames and needing to be rescued. Very questionable, indeed." His lopsided smile indicated how hard he was trying to keep himself from smiling or laughing.

 

"Triple it so long as that does not mean I need to suffer your tailor triply," Francis added, holding up an arm in a flourishy, whimsical way, as if posing for said tailor. "Or endure triple the dancing lessons or any such business."

 

He snorted, "And whatever would you give me an allowance for? You already pay for everything!" It was still quite hard for Francis to internalize that level of privilege and grandeur, joking or not. He did not fully know how things were supposed to work.

[Blackguard]

"And now you show up smelling of perfume," Buckingham noted in good spirits. "I wonder which is more questionable. Is that a lady's perfume on your collar perchance?" He knew that it was not, but it pleased the Duke to suggest such.

 

As Francis struck a whimsical pose, George stopped him. "Yes, hold that pose. I should think the tailor might deck you in holiday attire. Snow white in color I should think, with collars decorated with snowflakes. Then, a waistcoat of a remarkable color, but which?" He seemed to be muttering to himself. Was he serious? Likely not.

 

"So then, I see to your every need," he judged in a serious sounding tone. "Good God man, it seems as though I am, in fact, already spoiling you ... when here I thought otherwise. I have failed my own uncle discipline and have fallen prey to your wishes unconsciously it seems. But what to do about it?" Clearly he was not serious, but he was enjoying pretending at it. "So much for those woolen mittens I was planning to give you!" It made it seem that such a common item would be far too valuable for someone already spoiled.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis pouted and scowled in his best impression of foppish and indulgent adolescence (the polar opposite of what he had truly experienced). It was a look he could sell with his youthful, delicate features.

 

"But I prefer lady's perfume." He took full advantage of the range of his tenor voice to pour in some femininity.

 

"I assure you, your tailors have seen to my costuming for the ball very well, and we both know that you likely know better than I do what I am wearing."

 

Although now he was privately wondering how quickly his mother could embroider some silver snowflakes on his lace....

 

If it might amuse the duke, he would contemplate asking.

 

Asking at the risk of his mother throwing something at his head.

 

"That is what I have been trying to tell you, Uncle! So, see? You cannot give me such expectations of spoiling and then refuse me my woolen mittens! That is cruel. And if you fail in discipline you should succeed spectacularly at excess." He grinned at how it had come full-circle.

[Blackguard]

As Francis played at feminity, the Duke barked "now don't be going Italian on me." By that he meant the Italian Disease. Of course, he was still jesting.

 

As for his nephew's costume, Buckingham had not thought to influence the choice privately. Likely it was too late to do so now.

 

"Well, we shall see how good you are, I suppose. If you represent Villier's values and honor well at court in the next few days ... I might consider making a further grand investment in adding to your winter attire. Of course, I shall need to check with my master of accounts to see if I can afford such extravagance this season."

[Francis Kirke]

"I shall be a model nephew...cousin...both then," he replied, with a laugh. "It simply remains to be seen which set of Villiers values I will exhibit."

 

Grinning, he added, "And when was the last time you consulted anyone over your spending habits? Moreover, do you even have a Master of Accounts? Do you even know if you have one?" He could not help but dissolve into chuckles.

 

That had been one thing he had been able to offer his uncle in return for all of this; Francis' business acumen made him quite good at books and coin*. Not that going through any books from any of the duke's exhaustive estates would be easy or quick, but in the long run it was important to know if people were robbing you blind when you had the yearly income of a duke.

 

(OOC - that was from a thread many moons ago)

[Blackguard]

"Play your cards right, be a model relative and those mittens could still be yours," the Duke announced, as if those mittens were made of gold. It was a continuation of their jest. "I meant the good Villiers values," Buckingham corrected with a chuckle.

 

"Of course I know I have a Master of Accounts. In fact I have several," the older man declared with feigned indignation. They are spread out amongst my empire you see, each with different responsibility." He paused to recollect something. "I forget the name of my master for this season in London. Heavyset fellow. Wears spectacles. You have seen him here before." The name was still eluding him. "Of course, you've had a peek too and likely know the precarious state of my finances. Many more mittens, scarves and hats and I may have to start liquidating my library and art collection." It was with feigned seriousness that he continued.

[Francis Kirke]

"The good ones, eh?" Francis grinned about that. Good was quite the relative term. The superbly noble, worthy of dukely status good ones? Feeling bold, he said, just like he had of the Master of the Accounts, "Do you even know the good ones, Sir? When was it you last dealt with those!" He could not help but sputter, not able to keep a straight face. "I shall have to internalize the expectations of my lady mother, then, Your Grace," he promised, putting a dramatic hand over his heart.

 

After getting in a good breath, he added with a smirk, "My chosen company for the evening should do very well for ensuring my goodness either way." He baited and waited, a pleased look on his face.

[Blackguard]

"Yes, the good ones," the Duke continued with feigned indignation. "Simply select all of the good qualities which I exude. It is really quite simple," he insisted with a twinkle in his eye. "The list is quite long, so I am not sure that I can hold you to recalling each and everyone at this moment. But, perhaps you could start reciting from the list for me and perhaps the rest will come to you with time." He crossed his arms as he awaited his bastard nephew to flatter him. The only questions were how and how long.