The New Years Eve Ball- Xmas 1677

[Blackguard]

The streets of London were alive with merry-making. It was the end of one year and the beginning of another, an extension of the Christmas holiday merrymaking. The streets were alive with revelers, making roads nearly impassible. A line of coaches waited patiently in line to discharge passengers at the Banqueting House, the location of the King's New Years Eve ball. It was an event not to be missed by the aristocracy. Everyone who was anyone was likely to be there. The war between Court and Country parties was suspended for one night, and the war on the Continent seemed a thousand miles away.

 

All of Whitehall was alive. The Banqueting House was for those who would watch the royals and pray for notice in return. It was a grand ballroom full of shining silk, flashing gemstones, and swirling skirts as dances had already begun. The dance floor overtook the majority of the floor space as courtiers danced to music seemingly coming from heaven, yet originated from the balconies instead. The King and Queen were seated on their thrones erected at the far end of the hall, surrounded by family and members of the King's inner circle.

The Queen's ladies, or at least a portion of them, stood at the ready to assist the pregnant Queen with any request. They took turns in their merry-making, overseen by the Queen's Mistress of Robes, who was never far away from Queen Karoline.

 

The Duke of Albemarle was wearing a fine red tunic with an overabundance of gold tassels, a formal dark wig upon his head to create a semblance of importance as he stood next to the King. To the uninformed courtier, Chris Monck would appear in charge of the King's security. The Duke of York and the Duke of Cumberland stood near the thrones as well, receiving and dispensing holiday wishes. the King's Gentlemen stood near as well, serving as the King's true guardians. Conspicuously absent was the King's former Chief Minister, the Earl of Danby. His place near the King seemed commandeered by the Duke of Buckingham, who seemed in fine spirits. The Scottish Duke of Lauderdale and his wife stood on the fringes of the King's entourage, no doubt fueling speculation that his standing with the King was receding.

 

Not far from the thrones was a large ice sculpture with the numbers 1677. It was designed to melt by midnight, when it would be replaced by a fresh one with the new year. The Master of Revels, Thomas Killigrew, was wearing a bright coat of gold, instructing red satin clad acrobats where they could perform. Henry Bennet, the Earl of Arlington was nearby, working in concert with Killigrew to see that the food and entertainment was accommodated by the army of servants that the Chamberlain commanded. One unruly servant was swatted with Arlington's white cane of office, which sent the young man scampering.

 

It surprised no one that the Howards and the Cavendishes remained on opposite sides of the Hall. There was word that the ducal heirs of each house would have a betrothal announced this very night. The Duke of Norfolk was accompanied by his wife and a brood of Norfolk bastards. The Duchess was known to be looking for spouses for her eldest children, especially her son George, who was richly dressed. Lord Arundel, at odds with his father, was not seen nearby. Rather, he was seen dancing with the Earl of Petersborough's daughter Mary Mordaunt, leaving little suspense as to an imminent betrothal. The Duke of Newcastle was likewise surrounded by his family, including his eldest -- Elizabeth, Duchess of Albemarle and his heir Lord Ogle. Lady Edith Habersham was beside the Duchesses of Newcastle and Albemarle, speaking of things best kept amongst the Ladies of Saint George. There was keen interest in distinguishing foreigners from solid English stock.

 

Earls, viscounts, barons and their ladies were there as well, displaying opulence in attire and a holiday spirit. Members of Parliament were there as well, though in lesser number.

Yet the fun was not limited to the Banqueting House. The crowds spilled over into other rooms of the palace.

 

The Music Room bore witness to a group of young courtiers playing a parlor game of Magic Music. A musician sat sentinel at the pianoforte playing music louder as the seeker neared the object she was supposed to claim, and softer when she moved further from it. Laughs filled the air as both ladies and gentlemen pondered what object or person they would pick when it came their turn.

 

The Scarlet Drawing Room saw the Merry Gang, far from sober, playing many games with all comers. There was the traditional limerick contest by the Earl of Dorset, though few sought to challenge him. Then, there was Thus Says His Grace whereby the speaker either states thus says his Grace or so says his Grace. In the former case, everyone else must mimic whatever the speaker does, and in the latter, stand perfectly still. Alexander Merriweather was enjoying performing a contortion of kissing his knee and a knot of courtiers followed suit. Those too inebriated to follow or too distracted to comply were given forfeits. Ordinarily these would include examples such as standing in the corner in an uncomfortable position for a period, but might be more fun such as kissing whomever the speaker instructed. The Earl of Rochester took great pride in purposefully refusing to comply with the instructions and being assigned one forfeit after another.

 

The Central Drawing Room hosted a great round table, around sat many young courtiers trying to blow a ball of wool off the table away from themselves. A group of onlookers cheered and jeered at the facial expressions as courtiers used the last of their breath to keep the ball from falling off the table in front of them. In the other corner a spinning wheel was set, numbered from one to ten. Each visitor was given a brass token in which they could wager on a number. If it came up correctly, they would win a 1678 gold medal with the images of King Charles and Queen Karoline.

 

Other smaller drawing rooms had no planned activities. Rather, some enterprising courtiers had procured keys to the rooms and had locked them to the outside world. Barely lit, these rooms emitted giggles and sighs of ladies at times, if one were inclined to listen. There was scandal in the air for the weather was too cold to be inviting for outdoor assignations.

[James Winchester]

James and Noni approach Their Majesties

 

James and Noni whirled to a stop as the music finished, both slightly breathless, both smiling. James had shamelessly spent most of the evening in the company of his wife, greeting their friends and dancing with them or each other, and it had been tremendous fun. Noni looked gorgeous in his eyes. His own ensemble in a dark blue brocade with patterns picked out in silver thread and seed pearls complimented her duck egg blue gown; she looked like some winter fairy come to draw frost patterns on the windows.

 

“Lets go and greet Their Majesties.” He suggested. There didn’t seem to be more than the usual crowd at present, so it was perhaps an opportune time to pay the appropriate respects. Offering his wife his arm, the Baron and Baroness Wentwood made their way sedately up the length of the Hall towards the thrones, veering ever so slightly towards the Queen’s throne, since James was a Queen’s man.

 

Once within the appropriate range, James bowed deeply, his arm stiff in case Mingonette wished to lean on him. “Your Majesties! The turning of the year feels all the more portentious in your presence.” He said warmly, with a small, slightly cheeky smile. He knew what changes the new year was likely to hold. “Why, I do declare that periwig to be your most impressive yet, Your Majesty. Surely it is taller?” He flattered rediculously, in line with the rule instituted by Mischief.. “Perhaps you shall next add a bird cage or potted plant? I believe that it is quite the fashion on the continent.”

 

The good doctor’s gaze turned to the Queen, and the mischievious twinkle in his grey eyes softened considerably. “And Your Majesty looks positively radiant. Why, we might douse the candles and still see to dance.” He suggested. No doubt Karoline was feeling her pregnancy, but she had a long way yet to go.

[Raconteur]

The Newcastle's

 

Sitting at last Frances let out a sigh and then took a deep drink from her goblet fanning herself with the other hand for it had grown stuffy and the smells had by now merged together so ones breathing was assulted by a multitude of things all rather unpleasant. The crush of people was so great that dancing had become a challenge and after a few minutes she had given up and her escort had nodded and they had parted.

 

Easing back into the chair she sought some relief but even with her dancing her corset was as tight laced as when it had been put on but she had been told - in a rare moment of praise from her Father - that she looked well-suited to the evening.

 

In disregard to her elder sisters advice of wearing black - which would not have flattered her coloring at all - she had choosen to wear moss green velvet embellished with costly silver lace at elbows that had been hand sewn with clear beads that sparkled like diamonds in the torch and candle light. Her brown hair was swept up and true diamond hair pins inserted that matched those in each ear and the single strand diamond necklace that circled her throat easily measured the size of a fingernail each in its own setting.

 

Her brown eyes shone with excitement and she was quite a picture even just simply seating where she was. Her sister Elizabeth was there as was Lady Habersham and brother Henry was making a spectacle she thinks no matter where he had gone off to.

 

Now if only HE would appear! She had looked for him since arrival but not seen. It was possible, naturally, that they had missed the other in the crowd and the only real 'empty' place was by Their Majesties for one did not linger there unless asked so twas easy enough to watch those presenting and leaving.

 

Another long drink - she would not allow herself to become drunk - because she wanted to go somewhere more 'private' with George if that was possible and it suruly was for Whitehall was huge and just then she had the idea - that room off the Gallery where she'd fallen asleep - it would be perfect. Yes. perfect.

[Defiance]

Wentwoods

 

"Good evening Lord and Lady Wentwood," the king said, his voice bouncing with good spirits. Surely beyond what even the holiday might generally expect.

 

Thankfully the Merry Gang had stayed away from the libations, so it was due to some more real world factor.

 

"And they say our little darlings create a stench after awhile, what shall be said of bird shit on the royal head?" He chuckled, "Fashion is best left to the best of shoes, Wentwood." He gave a firm nod.

 

His fondness for footwear earned a knowing chuckle from those nearby, including Buckingham, Cumberland, & York.

 

"Ha, but is shan't be tried, for then Lord Langdon would surely think it was an assassination attempt and arrest half the event!" the King laughed.

 

Karoline smiled. "Thank you, Lord Wentwood."

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

The Frenchwoman supposed Louis was attending the ball with his little toy, Bridget. She had strong thoughts about that, but none that could be spoken in polite company. But that was of no mind to her at all, really - as she arrived wearing a dress shockingly expensive - Louis would pay (literally) for her perceived neglect!

 

Nicolette was encased in a plum velvet evening gown, the bodice of which decorated in pale grey satin rosettes, interspersed with clear glass beads that caught the light in a sparkling fashion as she moved. The neckline was square-cut, and there a soft lace tickled at her cleavage, there also hung a heavy gemstone upon silver chain.

 

Tied about her waist and wrist was a broad satin ribbon in pale grey again, and her skirts were also peppered with grey rosettes, the hem of which was hitched up some near the front to offer peaks of her dance slippers - slippers of plum that seemed to sparkle.

 

Nicolette's mischief for the night had already begun, having booked the entire ensemble upon her Cousins account without his knowledge.

 

Sweeping into the room she struck a pose and looked about. Louis and Bridget were not here (which was good news, for if she saw them together again she might scream! Or do something rash.) Alas, neither was Francis. But their Majesties were. Nicolette paused to consider the woman that was Queen, thinking her to look a most unpassionate sort. Pregnant they said, though seemingly bearing it well. I would bear it well too if I managed a marriage so high.

 

Where was Francis, she wondered.

 

(No there was surely no connection between the prior thought and this.)

 

Nicci blinked and belatedly made her curtsy of entrance before she swept father into the room...

 

It had been a long while since she'd dabbled with the Duke Ablemarle last, so she approached him and greeted. "Your Grace." which was quite all she said as she, with chin tipped, challenged him to meet her gaze. He always avoided meeting her eyes - and she was quite done with it.

[Caroline Despanay]

Caroline and Duncan alighted from his coach then quickly made their way out of the cold and into the palace. The sight of the ballroom with all its glittering decoration, including the largest ice sculpture Caroline had ever laid eyes upon, most impressive. Well, the entire scene was. And the people too, the place was packed and Caroline doubted they were late in their arrival so she could only conclude all the nobility in London were in attendance, not to mention many foreign guests she imagined.

The dancing had already commenced, the music coming from the balconies - she could not help but try to pick out the cello playing though it was difficult.

 

She leaned closer to her escort to speak above the music yet keep it the words between them, "Oh how magnificent it all is. Thank you again for your kindness in thinking of me on this night."

[Duncan Melville]

It was cold outside, so they hurried themselves to get to the Banqueting Hall. The viscount was dressed in a lavender velvet justacorps decorated with silver thread in fern leaf patterns, breeches matching color and fabric but without the embroidery, and a quilted brocade waistcoat in lime green and orange, accented by the silver chain of a pocket watch. A fine huge oval-cut amethyst set on a pin decorated his frothy cravat, and blue and white diamond rings sparkled on his left hand. At his waist danced the last piece of his outfit, a very Scottish claidheamh beag, the basket-hilt sword the Scots called “the small sword”. No formal wig on the Lowlander's head, but his hair was long, curly, and abundant, so he could do without.

 

“It is magnificent indeed!" Duncan said about the decorations, "and it is an honour and a pleasure, Lady Kendishall. Should we go pay our respects to their majesties?” To Duncan, not thinking about the king first was something he would balk at. “Afterwards, perhaps you would care for a dance? I believe it is the proper way to begin enjoying the festivities, no?”

 

On their way to the Banqueting House they had seen other groups intent on diverse entertainment, and they had sparked the Scotch lord's curiosity. “Then, if I might impose, we could see what else is going on. I have heard that Lords Dorset and Rochester are always a sight to behold for New Year’s, so we might seek them, or we could join others, at your whim. I am yours to command!”.

[Blackguard]

Nicolette

 

Chris Monck was not active physically, but his roving eye was ever active for a pretty gal. As such, he saw Nicolette approach. He hardly had anything more important to do. Whether the King noted her passage as well, who was to say, but the Duke of Ablemarle was pleased at the greeting. His own wife was good for little more than an onslaught of criticism and he was just as happy to be away from her.

 

"Mademoiselle," he greeted in turn, his eyes meeting hers if but a moment before perusing her bustline. "How lovely you look this evening." He supposed he should ask her to dance, but he was more inclined to inaction.

[Hope]

A few feet away from Caroline & Duncan

 

Veronica Campden shrieked!

 

Her eyes flared, free hand covered her mouth in a desperate effort to hush herself - while she used her fan, swating desperately down at the copious folds of her dress! Between strangled breaths she gasped for help - "A mouse, a mouse!"

[Caroline Despanay]

Lord Melville was as impressed with the trappings and crowd as she was but also made a most sensible suggestion they pay their respects to their royal majesties. Caroline instantly agreed and she also was happy to agree to his other plans too.

 

"I would be delighted to dance with you, Lord Melville. I only hope I am half the dancing partner your dear wife is," she declared.

 

A bit more surprisingly the man wished to seek out Lords Dorset and Rochester...though for exactly what she did not understand. Still, she was in a great mood and would be happy to accompany him on his every whim. They did not even reach either monarch when they were completely surprised by a commotion to their flank.

 

A woman was terrified by the presence of a mouse? Caroline had lived in military garrisons where mice and rats were common enough occupants, she had no fear but plenty of loathing for the creatures. Naturally she looked down near the feet of a frantic woman. Sure enough, there was a tiny mouse scampering on the smooth floor no doubt looking for an avenue for escape.

 

"Move! I'll put an end to him," Caroline warned then tried twice to stomp the elusive creature who barely avoided her efforts.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Nicolette

 

Elizabeth Monck was Nicolette's friend, in a way. Which was to say that she seemed to like Nicci far more than Nicci liked her. That said, the Frenchwoman had played her role of fake friend to the Duchess as and when necessary (or convenient). The saving grace about the woman was her intriguingly elusive husband. One Christopher Monck. One Christopher Monck that Nicolette had flirted wildly with time after time, yet to no result! Saving ego she would believe that he was actually transfixed, and merely playing a game with her. Frustrating her. Perhaps because he liked to be chased - though that was horribly insensitive of him.

 

And so tonight, she decided the game was to change between them.

 

Then he chose tonight of all times, to let his eyes slip to her décolletage. La! I knew it!

 

"How very astute of you. Eyes up here." She redirected his eyes pursing her lips, "Goodness, but I can barely breathe, will you be a dear and fetch me a glass of blood orange bandy."

[Duncan Melville]

Caroline and Duncan attempting to help Lady Campden

 

That Caroline agreed to pay their respects and then join him for a dance made Duncan smile. He had done well to ask to be her escort, that was for sure. The night promised to be quite the entertainment, something he had feared it would not be so when he arrived to London.

 

As they started walking towards the King and Queen, a woman shrieked nearby. A mouse, it seemed, had managed to entangle itself in the many folds of the gown of a slow-moving* and matronly lady.

 

Caroline moved swiftly, intending to stomp on it. Duncan, on the other hand, moved to the opposite side, attempting to catch the creature by grabbing it, whether by a leg, the tail, or the body. It would not do to stain the lady’s dress with the small creature’s blood, he thought. It was his intention to grab the creature, and then give it to the closest available servant for disposal.

 

Come, little mouse. A ball is not the place for the likes of you…

 

* took the liberty of writing her as slow-moving, due to her arthritis.

[Blackguard]

Nicolette

 

If Christopher understood the inner workings of a mind like Nicci, he showed no outer sign of it. Upon command, he lifted his eyes to look in hers, thinking she was about to utter something profound. Instead, she asked him for some blood orange brandy. The Duke's brow furrowed as he dd not think such brandy existed. Rather than admit ignorance of the object of Nicci's request, he nodded his agreement and barked at a nearby servant. "Get this lady a blood orange brandy and step to it!"

 

"I do not think we have any," the older man servant stammered.

 

"Then bloody well go make some and bring it hence immediately!" Monck used the tone of a gentleman that was trying to impress a lady.

 

"If it exists, it will be brought to you," he insisted. "I apologize for my language." He gave the short lady an appreciative view as he pondered how lovely she might look in her chemise.

[Raconteur]

Caroline and Duncan attempting to help Lady Campden - Another Watching

 

She'd been in and out of several 'groups' and was well pleased with the night and there had been much laughter and marry-making and so she was Happy. Her face was tinged with a faint pink glow that was part mood and partly due to the overwarmness of the Place and lack of any air at all save for the darker places where the chill crept about.

 

Her hair had loosed tendrils that curled about her face and added a nice frame of honey-blonde and her brown eyes sparkled from a combination of many things. She had not thought it would be a pleasurable experience but had been proved wrong. She had yet to find Lt. Turnbull and it was by chance that she now found her brother-in-law Lord Melville.

 

He was so it appeared acting as some Knight to resuce an older woman from what was a fixed thing about any Household be they mice or rats and was joined by a younger woman who was or so it seemed to Ellen intent upon stomping the poor creature to its death providing it corporated.

 

She was a few feet away and even it anything scampered by her it would be so fast and she was not easily panicked as was not the case for the older Lady.

 

"Had you a hat Lord Melville it would be attainable and so I think all you shall accomplish is to send it in the opposite direction ...."

 

Her words, touched with a teasing quality, would clearly reach his ears as well as the two women. She then added for the benefit of the older of the two

 

"Madam you are in no danger so best to remain as still as possible - I have found that will cause the creature to become confused and change its direction."

 

Now weather that was a truth or not did not matter for it suited what was needed to help achieve a balance and to allow emotions to be gathered under control. Ellen knew that if she were some aged Lady and thus made a scene her Pride would be gratefull for the rational thoughts of another woman.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis & Lady Dorothea

 

Francis was looking every inch a proper lord in a pretty ensemble of dark blue with mint green, embroidered in silver. However much he looked the part, he really did not usually feel himself at balls. Having a little plan, though, took his mind of the typical things one did at balls: dance and intrigue. He was particularly good at neither.

 

It actually worked rather well that he could meet to escort her whenever His Majesty and the Queen came together for their arrival. He tried not to set anyone (particularly those other ladies she had mentioned) a titter as he complimented her when they met.

 

He was careful to avoid mistletoe, at least at the outset, and was content to settle where the lady could be near enough to the Queen to be useful and where he could observe Buckingham, well, being Buckingham.

 

Hearing an out of place noise, he craned his head, "Did you hear that?"

 

It brought back the ghost of a memory from a ball the year prior.

 

"It sounded like a lady." He then whispered, leaning down some, "Perhaps someone trodding on someone's toes?"

[Hope]

A mouse!

 

"Yes it's a mouse!" Veronica shrieked, still swatting at her dress. Though just where the mouse was remained to be seen, for neither Caroline's stomping foot nor Duncan's pincer fingers could divine where this little rodent had gone.

 

And then there were the advice giversl, one of whom called out with an amused tone that elevated Veronica's upset even more. The last think that she wanted to do was cause a scene.

 

"I'd like to see you -" *swat swat* "-keep- " *swat* "-still!"

[Hope]

Francis & Lady Dorothea

 

While Dorothea wore a rust coloured crushed velvet detailed with cream lace and seed pearls. It was plainly a well made and expensive garment, though not particularly showy of itself or of the ladies charms. The young lady however fairly glowed tonight, gloved hand lightly placed upon Francis own as they entered, head held high.

 

"I cannot see, can you tell what is happening?" Dorothea was not very interested in whatever skirmish begun the night, rather she chuckled and added, "you are so tall my lord, that you make a fine watchtower!"

 

Coming to rest at a place her hand then slid from his to repose. She idly wondered if he liked the braided style of her hair, or if she should have had it dressed like the English girls instead. Some people recommended celebrating ones differences, while others advocated adopting the customs of local peers. Dorothea's serious mind digressed for a moment, wondering which philosophy was most recommended...

[George Hardwick III]

George Approaches May

 

Naturally George was aware of the Howard collection, amidst whom stood the moss green flower he'd set sights upon. He intended to approach the family later, indeed his transit to them would appear far more interesting (to fatherly eyes) if it followed an encounter with a loftily placed personage.

 

Yes tonight was not all about fun.

 

Ambition stirred a whirl in his mind, and advice received had given his previously blunted efforts a new edge. The earl touched his cravat and gave Frances a singular nod from across the room, before he moved with intent towards Baptist May.

[Caroline Despanay]

Mouse Hunt

 

It seemed her wonderful escort this night, the kindly Scottish soldier, had less stomach for gore than she did or at least a soft spot for mice? Caroline ceased her efforts then to stomp the little thing to death, well - she had completely missed with each try. Duncan was now attempting to catch the thing with his hands, good grief! He didn't seem to be any more successful than she though. Now for the moment they had all lost track where even the awful creature had scampered off to.

 

"It seems the ball lacks one thing it could certainly use - cats!" she declared in a huff to all about them.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Nicolette

 

She knew she was pushing her luck, though was surprised none the less as Monck ordered a servant to fetch her desired drink -- and even became forceful of it! Her brown eyes flared appreciatively, and as he turned back to apologise he might note her delight. Leaning forwards she returned, "What a foolish man to back chat you, a Duke no less, and I, who was practically raised on blood orange brandy."

 

She was dismayed at herself, but had forgiven the negligent man for all of his past sins. Why, she fully fancied him again!

 

"Pray do not restrain your language upon my account, for I must admit it rather excites me." to illustrate point on hand she fanned her warmed cheeks, then purred seductively, "Should you speak so strongly again I shall need to be escorted outside for a breath of cooling air." Not that Nicolette believed in cooling ardour, but then that was not what she was suggesting was it.

 

Perhaps a kiss, or at least an opportune grope, might make a fine start for the frolic of the evening.

[Duncan Melville]

Lady Campden, Ellen Doolittle, Caroline, Duncan, and a missing rodent

 

A hat would have been useful, yes… alas, he had removed his at the entrance. His sister in law’s words were logical, almost like a man’s. However, he had learned long before that logical words and society matrons tended not to go along well. He did look at the closest servant directly in the eye, and barked an order. “A hat, quickly!” Hopefully the fellow would comply.

 

“May God grant you a great evening”, Duncan directed at Ellen. She was probably well meaning, so there was no need to snap at her. Besides, he wanted to talk to her about this… Lieutenant Turnbull. He needed to know if she was interested or not.

 

The viscount could not seek the mouse under the lady Campden's skirts, so all he could do is look, both at the floor and the lady’s gown, looking for the rodent. The reason he had not drawn his sword or attempted to stomp on the animal was simple: he did not want to stain the lady's gown with blood. The lady had enough with all eyes directed at her, the Scotch was sure, to have an animal splat blood on her as it died.

 

At Caroline’s words, the Lowlander had to smile. “Aye, Lady Kendishall, aye!” he said exaggerating his burr. “But since we lack cats, us people will have to do!” He continued his search, slightly bending his knees to be able to react quickly, just as he would do in a fight.

 

It was Duncan's intention to catch the mouse alive, if possible. It would not do to mar the King's ball, even with such a small thing as a mouse.

[Charles Audley]

Charles watched the distant furore with detached amusement, swirling his brandy idly. Even had he been minded to help, there were already too many gathered to offer aid. He would just get in the way, and was thus conveniently free to observe the farce.

 

Tossing his long curls (arranged tonight in even greater elegant disarray than usual, out of what he would freely admit was pettiness), Charles resumed what he had been doing before being distracted- scanning the crowd for sign of Cadogan. He had a great deal to do tonight (his left hand brushed over the riding crop inside the inner pocket of his sea green justacorps) but all of it would have to wait until he had introduced Arthur to Mary.

 

Smiling down at the latter, Charles gestured at the ruckus.

 

"One would think that, with all the dogs about, the vermin would be kept well down," he observed lightly. He cocked his head as a thought occurred to him. "Would the girls like one? A spaniel that is."

 

Leaning back against the drinks table, Charles sipped at his brandy and sighed in quiet satisfaction.

 

"How are you enjoying your reintroduction to court at large?"

[Hope]

The Chathams

 

Resplendent was the word her dressmaker had used to describe the gown. Dark ivory velvet that shimmered with bronze toned needlework on the bodice, neckline trimmed with russet lace, while the skirts were ruched up with russet ribbons. From a further russet ribbon looped over her wrist hung her fan... yes Mary felt the embodiment of style as she now posed, glass of wine elegantly held, stood here in the great banquet hall.

 

Stood with her back to the boisterous fracas.

 

"One would also think people would know how to control themselves." She was not at all impressed with whoever that was, making a scene in the presence of royalty, "It s not very cricket."

 

Her smile was jubilant in it's restraint at that moment, eyes dancing of her harsh critique of that other poor sod. To Charles question she mouthed a reply, the words themselves barely audible, 'Loving it!' before she moved her hand out towards his arm, "Come lets go see Arabella. You’ve met her before I suppose? Hmm. There is no, ah, circumstance between you, I suppose, of which I’s be best forewarned?"

 

They had a moment before they would reach the lady in question...

[Raconteur]

Lady Campden, Ellen Doolittle, Caroline, Duncan, and a missing rodent

 

Melville's respons was less than usual and she wondered at that but then the older woman did not seem at all inclined to follow her advice so she tried again. Going closer to that Lady she whispered

 

"I too am afeared of them and so I have adopted that defense and so I think it best we two try to remain still for only then can Lord Mellville, who is my brother-in-law, achieve success. I am Mistress Ellen Doolittle. And I wager that creature has scampered away into the darkness yet the Gentleman seems quite determined to catch it without causing any harm to your person or gown!"

 

"He cannot draw his blade for the King is present but Lady Kendishall so he called her seems intent as well. Why do you think one of our sex would do such?"

 

Ellen's idea was to draw the older woman into conversation that was normal to a degree yet still able to observe the other two. Her gaze rested upon this 'Lady' and then crossed to her brother-in-law then back to the Lady her thoughts filled with questions ....

[Blackguard]

George and May

 

Baptist May was dressed in a mauve colored silk coat. He was giggling while watch a married couple bicker near the edge of the dance floor. He was counting the seconds until the wife slapped her husband. Sadly, it seemed that she preferred an icy stare instead. May had wandered a bit away from the royal couple, having little desire to listen to the fawning. rather, he imagined a far better time watching others become more outlandish as the night passed.

 

It was into this revelry that George intruded, causing the small man to turn and greet the earl, his pleasant smile ever present. "My lord. A Happy New Year to you."

 

Nicolette and Ablemarle

 

Rather than be offended, Chris thought he had misheard her to express quite the opposite. It took a few moments for him to confirm her intentions. "Well then," he replied, his chest puffing with the thought, "I shall give the man a veritable tongue-lashing when he returns." It seemed a grand moment spoiled only by the fact that the servant was nowhere in sight and unlikely to return any time soon.

 

"Yes, where is that scallywag?" he announced, wondering if that term would similarly please the French lady. "He might take some time. Perhaps we pass it with a dance?" It sure beat the alternative, conversation, which was not his strength.

[Charles Audley]

The Chathams

 

"Shall I slip a mouse down your bodice and see how well you keep your decorum, then?" Charles asked innocently, eye twinkling with mischief. "To provide an example for the plebs, of course."

 

He could not help but admire his stepmother's effervescence. She was glowing with her glee at attending the court function, and she was, Charles had decided, a woman best seen in animation. It was almost enough to make Charles feel old in his jaded cynicism.

 

It was monstrously cruel to keep her away from all this.

 

For the moment Charles gave her a conspiratorial smirk in acknowledgement of their brief bonding in mocking the victim of the debacle, before offering his arm as they moved off towards Arabella.

 

"No, nothing you need worry about, though I'll confess to thinking about it when I was... fifteen, I think?"

[Hope]

Lady Campden, Ellen Doolittle, Caroline, Duncan, and a missing rodent

 

Terribly aware of the scene she was causing, Veronica's expression held a desperateness to it - meanwhile she was certain that she could feel the creature running about amidst her underthing’s. "Gone, but not far away enough!" she returned to Ellen, trying her best to smile when introduced, though not near composed enough to manage her own introduction at that point.

 

While to Caroline and Duncan she returned, "A cat might only make the situation worse - what would be sent in next a dog?!" it was almost funny, but not. The idea of a cat being set loose upon her person at that moment was little help.

 

Never the less, the effort at conversation was time enough for Veronica to realise she had not felt any movement for a time. "Oh." blink "Oh." hand to chest pressed. "Oh I think it may have gone." Fretful eyes looked around the little group formed, and if anyone was prone to notice such things, she was indeed holding her breath.

[Hope]

The Chathams

 

"Oh from your pocket of despicable things that you regularly carry about your person?" Mary rolled her eyes. He had better not do any such thing. "Sometimes I forget my dear, that you are still twelve."

 

Yet whatever the family banter, the pair made their way across the room towards Arabella - a woman who had never been labelled one of courts beauties, but who's social success was fabled none the less. "Well thank heavens for small mercies." Mary uttered, privately relieved that he'd not an awkward history with her friend.

 

"Mrs Godfrey!" Mary called with a teasing tone, pulling Arabella's attention toward their approach.

 

Arabella turned, her expression shifting into a pleased smile at recognising, hands were extended and warm embraces ensued - with muffled greetings.

 

After this initial welcoming-skirmish settled, the pair drew apart and Arabella assessed the one eyed Earl in a very obvious fashion. He was unlike the youth from so many years ago, her eyebrow raised and she looked to Mary to initiate something.

 

"Of course you know of Charles, my late husbands son." said Mary.

 

"Ah now, there are some shoes to step into." she amused herself to say of his father, as she greeted Charles with a curtsy and extension of hand. The late Chatham had been a drunken wastrel for the most part.

[Charles Audley]

The Chathams

 

"I am out of mice, now that you mention it. Ah well, I'm sure I can find a substitute, if you decide to show the hoi polloi how to bear such distractions with equanimity."

 

Charles grinned, keeping any of the suggestive inflection he might normally have invested the comment with out of his voice. It was a struggle, and it was perhaps for the best that they soon moved on in search of Arabella.

 

Charles answered Arabella's blatant appraisal in kind, lips half-curved with what might have been a mild challenge or simply the remnants of his earlier amusement. He was curious, he had to admit. It had been years since he had last seen Arabella, and he would never have imagined that she and Mary would become friends. (Charles was beginning to think that he had badly misread his stepmother.)

 

Cocking his head to confront Arabella with his eye patch -it was always instructive to see how people reacted to that- Charles bowed elegantly to kiss her offered hand. Smiling, he straightened and let out a huff of amusement at her little sally.

 

"Oh, I do not think he would expect me to fill his shoes," he replied. "Rather I imagine his expectations would be for me to find my own path, if you don't mind the mixed metaphor."

 

Every word of that was literally true, but it gave quite a misleading impression. As a diplomatic response, Charles was rather proud of it.

[Aria]

There he was, that gentleman (Charles Audley), whom she had caught in the maze doing scandalous things with a lady at last week's ball! Henrietta Butler nearly dropped her glass of wine when her eyes lit upon him and she couldn't help but shiver. He was with two women this time, and one of them was a mistress … or maybe a former mistress since she was now married … of the Duke of York. Was he going to cavort with her as well?

 

“Why are you staring at that one-eyed gentleman? You're usually the one telling me that it's not polite.”

 

She whirled around as Elizabeth spoke from behind her “It's nothing,” Henrietta replied, feeling heat rise beneath her cheeks.

 

Her sister narrowed her eyes. “You're embarrassed. Did he say something inappropriate to you?”

 

“No.” Henrietta's honey-blonde curls bounced around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I haven't met him.”

 

“Then why are you glaring at him as if he's he devil himself?”

 

“I was thinking. I guess I was just staring into space and it seemed as if I was focusing on him.”

 

Elizabeth didn't believe her sister for a minute. “He's rather attractive in a roguish sort of way. Maybe he'll ask me to dance.”

 

As she had expected, Henrietta looked horrified. “If he does, you must refuse.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because … because Father might not approve.”

 

Now it was Elizabeth who shook her head. “You're making no sense, Nettie. What …?”

 

At that moment, two gentlemen approached them and asked them to dance. Henrietta was usually a bit shy but this time, she jumped at the opportunity, quickly departing for the dance floor. As Elizabeth chatted amiably with her own partner, she wondered why her sister seemed so afraid of the one-eyed lord. Somehow, she was going to find out before the night was over.