A Clerical Cleansing to Start 1678 | Chapel 2/1 10am- Xmas 1677

[Charles Whitehurst]

Catherine and Charles

"I need not worry, for you would ignore the actor and come straight for me instead.  I suppose that I should not sit in the front, for you would forget your lines when you saw me, so consumed with passion you would be," he laughed.  It was good to laugh again.  Things had been too serious of late.

Catherine might be correct about Frances and her problem.  Women rarely wished to discuss their monthly tidings with men and, frankly, the men had no desire to hear anything of it.  It was as if it was the Devil's work on women that no one discussed.  He merely nodded mutely, not knowing what to say.

As she squeezed his hand and claimed he could not resist her, she all but assured that he would skip her embrace that evening, not wanting to play into her narrative that he could not stay away from her.  With a wave, he was on his way back to the church.

Once inside, he sought out Sophia.  They had a matter to discuss.

[Louis Killington]

Ibracken, Basildon, and the Boys

Louis had given the boys a respite from interrogation the day before, but he would find the right moment.  As he looked around the chapel, feeling the chill of winter about them, Basildon spied the approach of the Ibrackens.  He did not really know them well, but it was clear that they had royal favor.  As such, they were worthy of his time.  Henry O'Brien was an Irishman who had spent much of his adult life as an MP, having the good fortune to marry Katherine Stuart of the Aubigney Stuarts, a junior branch of the royal family.  The King seemed especially fond of Katherine.  Ibracken was a politician and a soldier, which was a good combination.  Though O'Brien was Irish, Louis seemed to recall that the man spent most of his time in England, but they walked in different circles.  Killington had been something of an outcast until he came into his own as an earl and married Elizabeth Seymour.  Now, he could walk in the rarified air of those who had been in royal favor for years.  As he recalled, Henry was the son of a Howard, so he assumed that Ibracken was friendly with Norfolk.

"My Lord and Lady, a Happy New Year and a Happy Sabbath.  I hope all is well."  It was the standard pleasantries of a man hoping to ingratiate himself.  He turned to the boys to extend their greetings.

[Aria]

Catherine walking away from Charles

 

As she strolled toward her carriage, Catherine smiled. She knew that Charles might stay away from her so as not to give her any fodder for their game, but in truth, she was setting him up for failure when they met again. if he didn't come to her house this evening, she would be able to score such a huge point that he would have a difficult time coming up with a retort. She already knew exactly what she would say.

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Sophia parting from Catriona and joining Charles

 

"Please excuse me for a moment,” Sophia said to Lady Alyth when she saw Lord Langdon enter the chapel.  "There's something I need to speak with Lord Langdon about.  I'll be back soon."

 

Turning toward the door, she walked toward him.  “Lord Langdon,” she greeted as she approached him. “You mentioned earlier that Frances was feeling poorly. Would it be better if I didn't visit her today?” If not, there were still a few things about his ward and her mother that she wanted to discuss with him.

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

Sophia and Charles

Charles smiled as she approached.  "Yes, she is feeling poorly," he admitted readily.  "A woman thing," he whispered.  "I am quite out of my element in such matters.  I really don't know if she would view your visit positively or prefer to stay hidden in her room."  Frances had become quite unpredictable to him of late.  He had not credited hormones as being part of the problem.

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

“Oh.” If Frances' courses had started for the first time, she probably wouldn't want company. If Sophia had known her better, she could have helped her through it, because she had undergone the same thing only a few years ago and remembered the confusion of emotion well. But she was a stranger and the girl didn't seem to like her, let alone trust her. Not yet anyway.

 

“It's probably best that I postpone my visit then. If you approve, I would like to spend some time with Frances when she's feeling better, with the goal of becoming her friend. Although I was older, I was quite rebellious when I was under Lord Kingston's guardianship and I think I might be able to help her. I was thinking of taking her on an outing or doing something fun with her. Can you tell me some of the activities that she enjoys so I can make certain that we do something she'll like?”
 

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles and Sophia

"You rebellious?" Charles asked in surprised.  He had never seen her in any situation in which she seemed to be pushing the limits of gentle lady behavior.  There had been that one adventure in a London shop with Anne Scott, but he had attributed that to Anne.  That reminded him that Anne might be a good resource as well, though she had been acting strangely of late.  Though she was not that many years older than Charles, she had four children, the last whose paternity was in question.

"You are not going to teach her to be more rebellious are you?" he asked in jest, hoping such was true.  "She is rebellious enough."

"Frankly, I am thinking about leaving her back in Langdon rather than bring her to London next season.  Maybe the clear Cornish air and the lack of city influences will be calming to her."  Then it would fall to his servants and perhaps Bradley to look after her for most of the year.  Her mother was easy, content to do knitting all day.  Though Abigail was only in her 30s and younger than his first wife, she acted like an old woman because of the loss of her husband and whatever horrible thing she had experienced in Bedlam.

His memory was brought back to Sophia and the question she asked.  It was like a message from God that he had not realized.  "She … she loves to sing.  I have hired a singing teacher for her.  You, you are a beautiful singer!"  More ways than one of course. The pieces of the puzzle fit together.  "Perhaps you can lift her spirits by singing together … though you are so gifted, I wonder if she will feel small in comparison?"

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

Sophia laughed. “Ask Lord Kingston if you don't believe me. I regret all of the trouble I caused him now and I'm glad he doesn't hold it against me. I angered him so much that he even spanked me … twice. Though I didn't know it then, I deserved it. He was probably relieved when Lord Toledo asked for my hand in marriage.

 

“No, I'm not going to teach Frances to be more rebellious. I'm hoping to show her how to appreciate the advantages you have given her so she will no longer think of running back to a life on the streets. She's been granted opportunities that most girls like her never receive … a fine education, attendance at court when she's older, and she may even marry into the nobility.”

 

That Frances loved to sing was splendid news. They both shared a fondness for music, which might bring about the bond of friendship she wished to forge with the girl. “Thank you, my lord,” Sophia said when Charles complimented her voice. “I would very much like to sing with her and if she does feel inadequate, I shall encourage her. I felt the same way in Venice when I listened to older and experienced opera singers. They encouraged me too and gave me tips to improve my own voice. I can do the same with her.

 

“Lady Alyth and I are planning to meet in the Music Room tomorrow afternoon. Frances is welcome to join us or if you think she'll feel overwhelmed, I can pick her up after we're done and we can go to my house. I have my own music room and we can sing there. I also have a harpshichord and if she'd like to learn how to play it, I can begin to teach her, although she'll need formal instruction. I'm still learning myself. Please ask her if she's interested and let me know. I'm also available Tuesday morning.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"Spanked you?"  That seemed a rather strong action to take against a lady like Sophia.  Charles was ready to spank Frances, but even he felt odd about striking a girl.  Had she been a boy, then a real beating would have been in order.  It was well accepted that beating boys was the best way to get rid of disobedience.  With girls, it was not so clear.  They might break if you were to strike them too hard.  "I hope that was a rare occurrence."  Somehow he was thinking she had been much younger.  A lady of her beauty and bounty would be hard to bend over one's knee and manhandle without causing distracting thoughts.

"Exactly!  She needs to know how good she has it.  On the streets she will be harmed, starve, and risk disease and worse.  I think she just needs some lady role models."  Catherine Sedley was hardly a good model in that regard.

"I am not sure if she will want to leave the house for the music room.  If she does, I am not sure that I trust that she will not run off the first chance she gets.  I do not think that either you or Lady Alyth can catch her when she starts running."  He was shaking his head slowly as he considered the options.  "Maybe if you came to get her, but she might jump out of your carriage and disappear into the crowd."  There were too many variables that could end poorly.

"Maybe I can speak with her tomorrow and see if she is interested … and trustworthy." 

[Sophia de la Cerda]

Charles and Sophia

 

“Only twice,” she replied. “I was more humiliated than hurt, which I think was his intention. I can laugh about it now, but then I was not at all amused.” Sophia felt infinitely more mature than she had been only a year ago. Maybe helping a younger girl adjust to a new way of life would mature her even more.

 

Lord Langdon sounded quite pleased with her plans for his ward. “I hope that she may think of me as an older sister eventually.” The petite blonde had always wished she had a younger sister. “If you do bring her back to London next spring, I can introduce her to other young ladies as well. Staying at your estate for a season could be good for her too. There won't be any streets to run back to. If you do leave her there, make sure to employ a governess to take care of her and continue her lessons. Studying various subjects and learning proper etiquette will keep her busy and she may come to realize that she really wants the kind of life you can give her.”

 

He had a point about Frances attempting to escape, and she had a solution. “My bodyguard won't let her run off and if she tries, I'm sure he can catch her. But I can come to your residence if that would be better. Singing can be done anywhere. If you have a piano, I can play that instead of my harpsichord.  Or we can just sing a capella."

 

In fact, Tuesday morning would be a perfect time to meet with the girl. After they sang together, she could feign a headache and excuse herself, keeping up the pretense in the carriage and until she got to her rooms. Anna could say she had left orders that she was not to be disturbed and she could sneak away to meet Lord Arundel. If Esteban became suspicious about her staying locked in her chambers, Lord Langdon would be able to confirm that she had felt ill. Her husband was aware that she had frequent headaches.

 

“Yes, please let me know. I was also interested in singing to her mother. Music is soothing and healing and might improve her condition. But it would be better if Frances sang to her instead of a stranger. Perhaps you can suggest that to her. Or I can, if she agrees to sing with me.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"I can imagine," Charles sympathized about the spanking.  Maybe he should spank Frances after all.  If Kingston did it, it must be acceptable.

"Yes, I need a good governess.  If you know of one, I would be obliged.  I am not sure I am ready to bring her back to London for a year, let alone a season.  Maybe when she is 14," he mused aloud.

"If you have a bodyguard I hope he is quick," Charles chuckled.  "She can dart here and there."  The idea about visiting Abigail resonated with the young lord.  "She needs healing," he admitted. "She was confined in Badlam for a time and they did horrible things to her before I saved her.  I met a doctor who recommended a different sort of cure for women with maladies."  He had blurted that out before he had thought it through.  How could he say anything more on the topic.  He would need to change the topic.  "Singing might be just the thing.  Maybe you both can sing to her.  I have managed to get her to speak once or twice, but she prefers to be silent and quietly knit all sorts of useful things.  So maybe Tuesday.  Perhaps towards the end of the day?" He needed to go find the ghost's missing chest and time was running out.

 

[Sophia de la Cerda]

“I'm afraid that I don't know of any English governesses, but I can ask around. My own governess would have been perfect. She was quite strict with me, but I lost touch with her after my lord father's death and she only spoke German anyway. Don't most young ladies debut at court when they're sixteen? Until then, I think they remain on their parents' estates. If you leave her there for a couple of years, she will no longer have anything in common with her street friends and be less prone to run off. She will probably also be on her best behavior when you bring her back to London because she'll be worried that you'll send her back if she causes trouble.”

 

Sophia laughed. “My bodyguard is very quick and observant. He can keep up with me. I've tried to ditch him several times for a bit of privacy and I haven't lost him yet. He takes his job very seriously.”

 

She already knew that Frances' mother had been at Bedlam. Lord Langdon's admission that terrible things had been done to the woman proved that she was right about that dreadful place. The warden had been hiding something on the day that she and the Duchess had visited, and she was still determined to find out what it was and expose the awful conditions that the patients were subjected to.

 

When he mentioned that he had met a doctor who had told him of a cure, she wondered if he was the same quack who had spoken to her. Before Sophia could ask Charles what the doctor had advised, he changed the subject back to singing. “I have learned some popular English songs that Frances probably knows as well. If not, I can teach them to her. Maybe her mother will recall them and start to sing along with us.”

 

The petite Baroness frowned when he suggested Tuesday afternoon. Since she planned to feign a headache, she wouldn't be able to visit them after her rendezvous with Lord Arundel because she would have to keep up the pretense. Around dinner, she could venture out of her room for something to eat, saying that the pain was finally diminishing.

 

“Unfortunately, there is something else that I must attend to then.” Now she would have to figure out what that 'something' was in case Esteban did get suspicious and questioned Lord Langdon. It seemed that he wouldn't be able to serve as her alibi after all, unless she could still interest him in an earlier part of the day. “I'm free that morning though. And on Wednesday as well.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"I think they debut around 16," Charles ventured.  The legal age for a wedding was around 12 as he recalled.  Davina had warned her that Frances was old enough to treat as an adult.

"That is the smartest plan surely."  Leaving her in Langdon for three years with a governess would solve the problem.  "Though she is foolish enough to find a way to London on her own."  He actually worried about that.

Tuesday was a problem.  Then he remembered Rupert's event was Tuesday.  There were too many things afoot.  "Maybe Wednesday morning," he ventured.  "She'll be fully recovered by then."

Sophia's comment about wanting to escape her bodyguard was curious to Charles.  Why would anyone want to escape someone that was there to protect you?  It seemed illogical to him. Must be a woman thing.

 

[Sophia de la Cerda]

“Hire a bodyguard. If he's anything like mine, he won't let her out of his sight. You can also tell her governess that she may run off, so she will remain alert at all times. Between the two of them, they should be able to figure out a way to keep her from fleeing at night without locking her door or having a servant keep watch in her room. You don't want her to feel as if she is a prisoner or she'll come to resent you.”

 

Sophia had resented both Lord Kingston and Sir Cedric for having her followed so closely before she had been married. She was not offended that Esteban was concerned about her safety, but it annoyed her that Karl was serving a double purpose … to protect her and to make sure she stayed out of mischief. Though she wasn't certain that he reported everything she did and who she did it with back to his employer, she wouldn't be at all surprised if he did. Now that their relationship was improving, she hoped that her husband would trust her and not insist that Karl follow her to places such as the palace, where she would be perfectly safe on her own.

 

“Wednesday morning will be fine,” she said. “If Frances agrees, send me a not so I will know not to make other plans. I don't want her to be forced into spending time with me if she is dead set against it.”

 

The petite singer smiled engagingly. “I will take no more of your time, my lord. I should probably head back to my carriage before my driver assumes I found another ride and leaves without me.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"A bodyguard and a governess," Charles repeated.  The combination sounded like a jailor to him, which was acceptable despite the warning.  "I shall give it further thought."

As for Wednesday, it sounded acceptable, if it was acceptable to Frances.  "I shall send you a note as soon as I find out from Frances what she wishes to do."  The warning about returning to her coach brought him out of his musings.  "Yes, best be off to your coach.  If he left you, I shall give you a ride home," he offered.  It would be a foolish driver to leave without his mistress.  "Farewell Lady Toledo.  I hope to see you soon."

[Sophia de la Cerda]

After a year in England, Sophia had become more mindful of other people's feelings. She was still blunt and always would be, but she had learned to withhold information if it would insult another to reveal it. Lord Langdon seemed to believe that her driver really would desert her, when she had only been jesting. If he did leave her stranded, Esteban would have his head.

 

Or perhaps the Earl was joking too. Sometimes it was difficult to tell. English was such a curious language. “I think he'll still be there. He knows I sometimes mingle after Church. I hope to see both you and Frances soon as well. Enjoy your day, Lord Langdon.”

 

She turned and left the chapel. Her coach was indeed still waiting for her.

 

[Charles Audley]

Charles came back to himself with a start. Had he drifted off waiting for the chapel to clear? An utterly repugnant thought, carrying with it as it did the shadow of the twitching, drooling wreck his grandfather had been by the end. He rejected the notion instinctively. He had merely been in a meditative state, and had lost track of time, that was all. He nodded firmly, the better to impress his conviction upon reality, and stood. Or tried to, at least. His calves burned fiercely as he straightened from his kneeling position, the blood rushing back to his lower legs and bringing surprising discomfort with it. Charles winced and sagged back into his pew, stifling a groan.

He stood again after some moments, more cautiously this time. God, was this what being old felt like? But that was another thought too horrifying to contemplate, and so Charles dismissed it too. Resisting the urge to stretch, he glanced around the chapel. Was he at last alone?

[Raconteur]

She had waited for the end of Service as she did not in all Truth belong there. It was where Peers and other Nobles came to Worship and as her Father was but a Baronet .... Not that she would have been turned away and there were some that she did know but she didn't want to encounter any that might have a remembrance of her Father's actions from last Season and even from this year so she had waited bundled up to her chin in black mink careful to keep out of view. Now it seemed that she was able to go in which she quickly did her eyes looking everywhere for the figure that had gone missing.

She blew on her gloved hands and realized that her younger sister was not there and her words carried clear in the small space about her.

"If she has played US all for fools and is locked up at Home I shall beat her soundly ..... I have men searching the Palace yet can not think she would have come here. The Docks as well. Perhaps I should offer up a Prayer ..."

She was angry and anxious all together. Natalie had somehow slipped out without any noticing and so the Search had begun. Ellen did not think she would have thought to come to Whitehall yet her younger sister had a head filled with only the thoughts of Parties and Gentlemen so she herself had come. But it was another dead end. Suddenly tired and chilled through she moved onto the first pew that was empty unaware that it had an occupant.

She turned her head which made the few curled tendrals of her blonde hair sway ever so slightly as her brown eyes encountered the Gentleman she had interrupted in his devotions ..... 

 

[Charles Audley]

His question was answered almost as soon as he thought it, as a woman's voice echoed through the chapel. 

What poor unfortunate is she seeking? he wondered, turning to look for her only to find her sliding into his pew. He very nearly started in surprise, only just mastering himself. He was getting old, if he had not noticed her approach so near.

Well dressed, was his first thought as he got a proper look at her. Pretty but unexceptional, his second.

Well, unexceptional save for a nose that rivals my own in overboldness.

The black fur (mink, he thought) provided a striking contrast to her hair and skin though, and her state of upset lent her a becoming animation. She was somewhat younger than he would have guessed from her words, too. Under other circumstances Charles might have found himself tempted to play a little, but at that moment she was an unwelcome distraction.

The sensible thing to do would have been to politely acknowledge her, and then ignore her and pretend to pray until she left and he could be about his mischief. But that would have been boring, and, though he would never admit it, Charles was not sure his knees could take much more kneeling. No, he would have to adopt a different course.

"Is something amiss, my lady?" he asked gently, aware that between the eye patch, the uniform, and the queued hair enhancing his already gaunt, haggard appearance, he was perhaps a somewhat intimidating sight. (Immediately afterwards he realised that sending her running screaming would have suited his purposes admirably, and mentally cursed himself for his cavalier instincts.)

Edited January 5, 2019 by Charles Audley

[Raconteur]

She had been startled and could not speak for a few moments in which time she did a quick observation of the Gentleman her eyes taking in uniform and then back to his face which she now saw was like someone who was or had been ill.

"It is I who must beg your Pardon .... I have intruded unwittingly caring for my own thoughts ... I did not take the time to notice that there was still those that Worshipped .... Again I am sorry for disturbing you."

She saw plain that he suffered and her instinct was to offer aid but she held back. It was the place for such a gesture but she was a stranger.

"Amiss? Well I am beginning to suspect that is true and to come Here was just a chance which has gained me nothing. My sister is hardly like to seek such a place to hide."

She answered him back in the same quiet tone.

Ellen turned to look again but saw only a couple with two boys in conversation with another Gentleman and it was obvious Natalie was not here.

"I am Sorry again for the disruption. I can assure you my leave-taking will be better than my Arrival!"

She gave him a small smile then made to exit the pew intent on leaving to continue the search. She turned back adding

"I Hope you are Granted whatever it is that you Prayed for. And that it brings you Peace."

A curtsey and then she was gone. She knew it was silly to look again but he had presented such a sadness ..... Impatient Ellen then left as quickly as she had come aided by one of her Fathers men for the ground was trecuious in spots and also for protection.

[Charles Audley]

"There is no intrusion," he replied, smiling softly. "I can hardly lay claim to the chapel entire, now can I?"

He was pondering how best to steer the conversation when she decided to depart as swiftly as she had arrived. He blinked in surprise and recovered, nodding his head in thanks for her well wishes as she turned away.

But if you are listening God, give me anything but peace.

Charles shook his head in bemusement. That had been almost suspiciously painless, when he had been anticipating (and not without a certain degree of eagerness) a much more involved process.

Ah well. 'Lick up the honey, stranger, and ask no questions,' as the Turks are fond of saying.

He waited a few moments to make sure that the young lady had truly taken her leave (he had not even learned her name, he realised amusedly), scanning the chapel to make certain that he was alone before approaching the charity candles. He examined them briefly, straining his ears for any sign of approaching company. Doubtless he should have had some subtle deception planned, perhaps prepared a duplicate. But Charles was a great believer in simplicity, and his plan extended no further than dousing the wick, dropping the candle into his sabretache, and walking out the door.

[Raconteur]

She was often at this place usually waiting away in one of side areas out of view of any that Worshipped. It had been so cold over the past week so she had wrapped a brick in flannel grateful for its warmth held between gloved hands. Her blue wool gown would gave away her identy as one of the hundreds of Palace employees all similarly attired be they male or female. She was in service to a 'Lady' who was neither Great nor Small but was now dead which meant she had to fend for herself until she was told where to go next. But that had been months ago and as of this day no one had came to claim her. She was a faceless servant taught to blend in and she was successful which had made the idea that had come in the freeze of night as she lay huddled in the room alloted to her from her late Employer wrapped in the blankets and the one fur she'd managed to grab along with two pairs of wool stockings and the shoes last worn by someone else that pinched but had no holes.

Her idea was not any different from the ones used by so many at Whitehall. Only the location was her idea entirely.

Every Sunday she came here early and found her hiding place. That was easy. Sometimes she even managed to find a small braizer that was standing unattended and she could carry easily and so was able to huddle around that. She knew that Church was usually crowded and most Courtiers that came dressed fine intending to show off their Money that was worn on their backs. Because of that they always left behind little Treasures. She had a small fabric pouch filled with them. Buttons - gold, pewter, and silver; six medium sized Pearls and one grey pearl that had been part of a pin. She had six pennies as well. Last Sunday she had been lucky and now was in possession of two small rubies tiny in size that must have been sewn on a dress or doublet and fallen off. Today, well, she hoped for the same or better.

She could tell by the lack of voices that the Church was if not all empty near enough. No one would pay her any attention. Slowly she came out into the open her grey eyes with their long lashes looking about carefully. She had some idea as to how she looked for her late Mistress owned mirrors and now and then she'd seen herself and was surprised still. Her Mistress had said that if she were put into better clothing it would be hard to guess her Status was what it was and her manner of walking was good too. Her dark hair was long and she was vain about it making sure it was brushed and coiled neatly under her cap. She did not slouch nor cower as so many of her sex did. Her shoes made no sound as she came round the corner then making her way up the side intending to start from the entrance then work her way down towards the Alter. Catching sight of the Gentleman made her freeze.

He was near to the Alter with back to her. He wore no doublet but a Uniform but of which Regiment she did not know. Chewing on her lip she changed her direction to go closer then knelt partially hidden by a pew her practiced eyes going over his person thinking that perhaps he was about to leave an offering  .....

[Charles Audley]

Charles stood, taking a moment to savour the anticipation. This was a small transgression, really, meaningless in the grander scheme, but the fact that he was thumbing his nose at the Queen and those faux-pious hypocrites who had donated and was doing it in the chapel itself? Oh, those gave a rush far beyond the banal physical reality of the act. Laughter boiled from him, the sound startling against the silence of the chapel. Oh, he did love these little mischiefs! Licking the tips of his forefinger and thumb, he pinched out the wick of the nearest candle and dropped it into his sabretache. Movements smooth and unhurried, he turned to depart.

It was something of a shock to discover himself observed.

A servant, his mind noted idly. Pretty too, it added with a certain inevitability. Good skin.

She had been hidden in his blind spot he realised, grimly amused. She had almost certainly heard him laugh and seen him take the candle,  which was unfortunate. In a more sober, restrained state of mind, Charles might have opted to simply ignore the girl and stroll out, daring her to question him. But the devil in him was awake and dancing now, so Charles simply waggled his eyebrows at her and brought a finger to his lips.

"Shh."

[Raconteur]

The laugh startled her and she stood up without thinking. She'd seen him take the candle no doubt about that. Was he then encrouching on HER place?

It was only when he turned to face her and uttered that shushing sound that she reacted. A hand went up and she called out 

"Stay you Shade! This is a Holy Place and yet you contrive to steal off the Alter!"

Now given her own circumstance using the word 'steal' was not such a good choice and how was it she was so Brave - standing her ground.

This was obviously no human for his countance was as Death and the eye-patch only added to it. Perhaps he was a tomennted Soul  .....

[Charles Audley]

Well, this is deeply inconvenient.  Why can these things never be simple?

Despite that, Charles laughed again, a warm, full-throated peal of mirth. She had spirit, this one, whoever she was. Smiling, he stepped towards her, wagging the finger he had shushed her with. His eye twinkled.

"Now that is precisely the opposite of what I asked," he chided gently. "And your manners are deplorable. 'Shade,' indeed! I have been ill, madam, and doubtless do not appear at my best, but I assure you that I am flesh and blood, and as alive as you." He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "But it seems my own courtesies are near as bad. Charles Audley, Earl of Chatham, at your service." A bow would been too overtly mocking, he decided, and so opted to incline his head a touch instead.

(Undeniably foolish to give her his name but Charles was soaring now, letting instinct and feeling guide him rather than logic.)

Besides, my appearance is distinctive. 'Twould be simple enough for her to ferret out my name were she so inclined.

Sauntering forward, he stopped several paces short of her. It was no part of his intent to physically loom over her. Instead, Charles poured himself into a pew, stretching out relaxedly. His hand patted the bench beside him in invitation. Waiting for her response, he examined her more closely. Her posture was good, as was what he could make out of her figure. Grey eyes too, he noted appreciatively, always a particular weakness of his.

[Raconteur]

She held her ground yet her eyes grew wider as he approached. Did Spirits have the abaility to speak? Yet taking in his speech she saw now her error - HE was in fact human.

"Tis you My Lord who has the ill manner. Illness or not twas badly done indeed. You should make amends for scaring me."

This said in a whispered voice yet her feelings would still be clear. She was a creature of the backside of Court yet for all her appearance had not learned to temper her speech and oft times suffered for it under her late Mistress. 

She was almost daring him to touch her. Imagine the disappointment when he slitherd into a pew and reclined instead then invited her to join amusement clear in his eye.

"Tis also impolite to stare yet somehow I think that bothers you not."

She looked around but saw no other person so if she cried out for help who would come? She gave a small involuntary shiver as the chilled air brushed about her and that made her sit but with as much distance between them as she could.

"What is your illness then? Did you come here to Pray it away and then think to take the candle? Do you usually steal from Churches? Being an Earl has merits so why? For me tis different. I needs must care for myself."

She gathered her cape more about her lower body casting him a glance from beneath her lashes. It was clear he was no Ghost but she'd swear there was Devil in him tho.

[Charles Audley]

Oh, you are a magnificent creature.

"Make amends?" he asked, merriment dancing in his eye. "Now how would you have me do that, hmm?" He was vaguely surprised to find that the answer genuinely interested him. The girl had shown a surprising amount of spine thus far, and he rather hoped she kept it up. 

Charles settled himself fluidly into the pew, sprawling out with an effortless, elegant nonchalance that was the result of long hours of practice. (It amused Charles no end in his darker moods, how much effort he could expend in the cause of appearing to expend no effort whatsoever.) He smiled and shrugged as she took him to task again. 

"Very little does, if I am honest," he admitted candidly, "and staring especially does not. The appreciation of beauty is most of what separates us from the beasts. But if it discomforts you, I shall stop."

He saw her shiver as she sat, and frowned. Reaching into a pocket, he fished out his flask and offered it to her.

"Against the chill," he said, by way of explanation.

He swallowed a further burst of laughter as she suddenly erupted into a flood of questions.

And at the end there... You are even more interesting than I first thought, aren't you?

"In order, I suffer from periodic migraines, which are deeply unpleasant. I came here because it is expected of me, but mostly actually for the express purpose of taking the candle. No, I do not usually steal from churches, particularly Protestant ones — they generally have nothing worth stealing. As for why..." He grinned boyishly. "For a wager."

He let her continue observing him under her lashes for a moment before he went on, voice soft, gentle.

"And you have revealed a little more than you meant to, I think."

[Raconteur]

She looked back at him with some good amount of wariness for she was still not fully convinced that he indeed would not harm her.  Then the flask appeared and offer made - so she reached out and took it holding the rim from actually touching her lips then drank a small amount and handed it back.

"Thank You. The offering of it is not without humor when once remembers where we sit." 

"And what cures have been given then?" She asked her eyes narrowing a small fraction as she listened. "Your Lady Wife ...." 

She let that trail off for she assumed he had one and so did not want to make him think she alluded to that Lady's lack of caring.

"Well naturally you come as do All. Yet you are not so displayed as most are. Perhaps your Fortunes are not that great?"

Her practiced eye had scaled his attire even if it twas a uniform adding price to each article. His boots alone cost a fair amount.

"A wager? Ah. Well then. That is the reason for it. And do you not Fear retributions Lord Chatham for such an act?" Her words were serious but there was a touch of amusement mixed in. 

"Have I?" This in answer to his last words about herself.

"And what then do you think I should have kept hidden?"

She sat there all innocent in her manner her gray eyes fixed on his one and waited. This was indeed a strange encounter yet as the minutes ticked by some of her initial fear was beginning to be replaced by a strange tinge of anticipation.

"I am called Grace."

[Charles Audley]

"A little blasphemy does add spice, does it not?" Charles asked, drinking a little himself. "Or would this be sacrilege? I'll confess that the distinction escapes me." He shook his head. 

He smiled as she asked after his migraines.

"My lady wife does not exist," he told her, grinning, "I am unwed. As for cures..." He shrugged. "I have tried everything short of trepanation, to little or no avail."

He snorted with amusement at her blunt (though not entirely inaccurate) assessment of his fortunes.

"There are different ways to be seen," he began, before cutting himself off with a frown. "No, perhaps it is better to say that there are different things to show off. Yes, most use such gatherings to peacock, and flaunt their wealth, but there are other things that one might wish to publicly exhibit, depending on one's talents and intentions. I come to chapel in uniform because, with the current fervour for war, I judge that exhibiting my martial inclinations the best way to achieve my end of furthering my position."

Charles sipped at his flask and offered it to her again, considering how best to answer her. 

"I assume you mean the spiritual sort of retribution?" he asked, entirely rhetorically. "I do not. I act in accordance with my nature, and it would cruel for the one who made it thus to hold such against me." He gave her a thin, sardonic smile. "And we are assured that God is not cruel."

In truth, Charles was convinced that God, if indeed there was such a being, was either cruel or entirely apathetic to the doings of mere mortals. It seemed impossible to argue otherwise, looking at the state of the world.

But baldly telling people so tends to excite them, and not in a pleasant way.

He cocked his head quizzically to one side as she evaded his little sally.

"You were doing so well. Don't play coy now," he teased gently. "'For me 'tis different. I needs must care for myself.' That is what you said, yes? After asking me why, as an Earl, I felt the need to steal from the chapel. There is an implication there, no?" He smiled at her, a proper, human smile for a change. "You need not fear any judgement from me, madam. I try to avoid that sort of hypocrisy. But perhaps I read too much into your words. I have a nasty, suspicious mind."

He inclined his head in thanks when she offered her name, treating the moment with the courtesy he felt it deserved.

"Grace." His lips formed the name slowly, as though tasting it. "You are aptly named."

He leaned across to kiss her hand, as he would with any lady upon introduction. Grace would have ample time to draw back if she chose, and he was interested to see if she would.

 

 

[Raconteur]

"It was said because we are in a Church hence wine .... but then that is a thing not practiced so best left alone."

She was being careless and needed to pay attention. Being Catholic now was not a thing to boast of and she needed to keep whatever Security was offered by remaining here at Whitehall.

"Then you do not have a Physician that attends to you? Foolish indeed. Tis simple enough. Even I know things that will help." (perhaps that begged his asking)

"Yes. You are right. My Lady was kind yet never was without the appearance of finery yet never once did she wear it for that reason. May God Bless her."

"Will there be one then? A war I mean? It is spoken much all about Whitehall and with such Bravado amongset those of your sex. Eager to run to fight and just as quick to find Death."

She took the flask without a thought glad for the warmth that seeped into her stomach. Handed it back the same way. She was no innocent but no lightskirt either knowing a trick or two herself.

"Shhh. Tis unwise even to say that no matter how you Believe. You think there is no God then? Again Foolish."

She sighed. He was right. He was indeed not near as scary now as earlier and he had spoke what she thinks are truths.

She did not pull away yet she knew her cheeks were tinged by her blush and she had the sudden urge to press her legs very close together.

 "Well upon first introduction it may seem so. Yet I assure you My Lord I have a temper and tongue that matches not my name."

"I was pesonnal servant to Lady Bascombe but she is dead these past three months now. As is custom I should have been taken up by the Family and sent to another but that did not happen and no word comes after all this time. So I keep to her rooms for my security and comforts - but they are not many."

"I have no Employer or Patron you see. I 'borrowed' these clothes as my others are unsuitable now and in these I can go about freely without fear of being caught out. I have wondered at the fact no one seems to remember that My Lady has died for her rooms are thus left alone!"

"I make use of the Palace Kitchens for in this clothes I am permitted my meals so that is good but I have no coin. My actions are no different that so many but twas my own thought to come HERE. I do not 'steal' from the Church ..." She gave him a look. "But rather I pick up what is torn and falls off. They that lose it have no idea and yet a button or pearl is like Gold to one like me."

She looked at him squarely then asked quietly

"And will you now call a Bailiff? I will be most disappointed if you do."

Just WHAT did Grace expect? Was she perhaps thinking to try and make this one-eyed Earl into her Savior?