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Sunday Funday | Late Afternoon- Xmas 1677


Robert Saint-Leger
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For Beverley, the day ad already been lengthy by noon. Living a double-life was double the work, and it was not the sort of work Beverley enjoyed. He had been up at what should have been an unGodly hour had it not been devoted to God. They practiced their true faith early and then had gone publicly to chapel to put on the required show for the state. 

 

They had returned home in the afternoon to have something to eat. The rest of the day was almost always spent at home. If the weather had been finer, Beverley would have spent it outside in the garden, but he had no ambitions to go outside when there was snow and such cold. Once that day was enough.

 

Mary was off with Annie. His mother was embroidering horses on one of his nephew's shirts. Thankfully, it was Sunday and he couldn't be expected to do "work." The ladies all occupied with their own devices, Beverley cast his eyes to his father. He was still somewhat surprised at the evening before, and now he was not quite entirely sure in what other areas his father might surprise him. 

 

Thinking of something to say to fill the silence, he offered, "I am happy to not be staying at Whitehall today. It is always too loud for Sunday. I prefer to be home." There were always servants bustling around corridors, courtiers talking in hallways. Beverley was not really used to such activity all the time, even with their cadre of servants. 

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Brooke had not insisted that Beverley attend him this afternoon. A command would have only caused resentment and he had been curious as to what his son would do with his free time. That he had chosen to spend it with his father pleased the Earl. There were many other ways he could have occupied himself.

 

When the boy spoke, Brooke looked up from the book he was reading. “I don't blame you,” he replied. “Sundays should be calm and quiet.” He didn't mind that Beverley had rooms at the palace as he would be closer to his master should he have need of him. It had been the manner of his leaving that had annoyed him. But they had put the past behind them now and he felt that their relationship was improving.

 

He smiled at his son. “You conducted yourself well last night.” That was as close as Brooke could come to saying that he was proud of the way Beverley had handled himself in front of the King.

 

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When Beverley was a boy, praise and compliments had been a constant, but they had become far more few and far-between since the incident when he was seventeen, so they now seemed to stand out like a beacon. It was too soon for Beverley to have any hopes that this might be a new trend, he was so used to the 9:1 critique to compliment ratio of recent years and rather choose to ignore the part he had played in most of that. 

 

Thus, the compliment made him smile in that youthful way that had him look down and away. 

 

"It was no difficult thing, Papa," he replied. "His Majesty makes me very nervous, but far less-so when I have you or Cumberland with me. I feel less the, erm, sole focus of attention." Beverley had spent much of his life at court or around court life in those that visited his father, so he was very well versed in all those automatic things and responses, the various scripts of life that one didn't need to think about; it was the speaking part that could confound him if it went much beyond a few sentences. He never had much practice at it, for when one's father was a privy councilor and one served a prince, there was rarely that much need to talk to the grandest people, it was almost always done by whomever he was with.

 

And then there was the fear that if he did say something foolish, whomever it was would tell his father. It was intimidating when everyone important knew your father because he was ancient (sixties was ancient in Beverley's mind) and had a prominent position!

 

"I think the gift went over quite well, for His Majesty did suggest some competition for next season." The King did like his wagers, his hunting, and his horse racing. There had not been much of it lately. Having not been at home, Beverley couldn't claim any credit for the idea of the gift. The King had remembered he had done well in the race at Brighton, though, and that was something.

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That sweet smile never failed to touch Brooke's heart. He had forgiven Beverley for his youthful folly, but he had not forgotten. If there was one thing the Earl despised, it was gambling. He had seen men lose everything they had because they were certain that their luck would change on the next turn of a card or roll of the dice.

 

He didn't want his own fortune squandered in that manner when he was gone, but Beverley had behaved well lately and he was beginning to trust him again. By increasing his allowance a little at a time and asking him how he had spent it, he would be able to find out whether his son still craved that ruinous pastime. Perhaps his marriage and his responsibilities to Cumberland had matured him.

 

“You'll become accustomed to it in time.” His son would probably always be shy, but that wasn't necessarily a bad trait.

 

“Yes, I think he was pleased. You will, of course, represent our family in whatever kind of competition he decides on.” Brooke would have liked to race himself. He was still fit enough for it and he enjoying exhilarating rides quite often. But with age came wisdom, and with wisdom came caution. He wasn't as reckless as the younger gentlemen who still believed they were immortal and it was those who were willing to take risks who prevailed.

 

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Beverley nodded, "I did once think the same of Cumberland and barely said a thing." He chuckled, "It is hard to remember such a time." Now they had quite a mutual affinity, as evidenced by his new rooms. 

 

However, seventeen year old Beverley had been even sorter than twenty-two year old Beverley, and Cumberland was almost as tall as His Majesty. Beverley had come up to about the gargantuan German's shoulder-height. Thankfully, Cumberland had the same enjoyment of brevity as Beverley did in providing it. Only now it was purposeful. That might mean that, one amazing and incredible day, Beverley might also speak to the King without his heart falling into his gut. 

 

"It did sound like something different than just a race, did it not..." Beverley mused, trying to imagine what sort of event the King (or those around him) could come up with. "I would welcome that, I think. Proper races on a course are more fun to watch because you can see everything, but aside from being fast are rather boring to ride." It was, after all, just a big circle cramped with riders and horses. 

 

The beach race had been something of a change, and perhaps there would be something similar to that. Maybe through the woods or fields with jumps and obstacles.

 

"At least if it is anything horses, I shan't need to worry about looking foolish." Beverley's talents were generally not the sort of things easily observed. It was hard to observe a penchant for strategy or military things, although he had done that with the Naval Demonstration he had planned. 

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“One day you will feel the same way about the King,” Brooke assured him. He hoped that Beverley would rise in His Majesty's favor eventually, for now he was content for his son to remain in his shadow. He still had a lot to learn.

 

“Yes, he mentioned a variety of events, which should be interesting.” Maybe there would be something that he could participate in. He doubted the King had planned it out already. It had seemed like a spur of the moment idea to Brooke, inspired by their gifts, but he had no doubt that there would be some kind of activity involving horses next spring. The King enjoyed such things and his court had to be constantly entertained.

 

The Earl smiled. It was rare that Beverley seemed so confident. “That's exactly why I want you to represent our family. Your prowess with horses is superb.”

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Beverley nodded as his father said he would feel similarly about the King one day. He expected it was true, but he still felt so very many nerves around the King. With Cumberland he had to get over it quickly because he was with the huge German all the time, but he had very limited interaction with the King. 

 

Perhaps when I am thirty... Beverley thought to himself.

 

"Only because of you and Mama," he replied. His parents were both great lovers of all things horses, so he hardly developed the skill out of nowhere. "Though I am happy you think so. I shall have to make certain I have horses ready that shall be versatile enough to deal with whatever His Majesty can imagine." Beverley only had two horses that were his. Fleet, who he had trained to race but used as his mount for everything, and then Dash, who was too young to be very great at anything although he was fast. 

 

"Perhaps there will be something either of you can join as well," he added. "But either way, you can prepare with me? It is as good a reason as any to race and hunt more."

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Brooke believed that Beverley would have been good with horses even without his encouragement. He had a natural way with them that couldn't be simply learned, not at his young age anyway. The Earl had contemplated several other options before he had settled on gifting the King and Queen with horses, and he was now glad that he had made that choice. It gave his son a project that he would enjoy and that would test his ingenuity, for he had to anticipate what kind of events the King would select.

 

“All of our horses are at your disposal, to use as you see fit.”

 

Brooke smiled. “You read my mind. I was just thinking that I would like to participate myself. Your lady mother would probably be thrilled with the opportunity as well.” A hunt would be superb. He was quite adept at using several weapons and he was an excellent shot. The Earl didn't doubt that he would be able to best those  reckless youths whom he would never be able to keep up with in a race. Hunting required patience, and the young rarely possessed it.

 

“Of course I'll help you prepare.” They didn't need an excuse to race or hunt, and the Earl wondered if Beverley thought that Brooke required an incentive to spend more time with him. That was assuredly not the case, but the boy would have to find that out for himself. The fact that they were together now should tell him that his father took pleasure in his company.

 

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs toward the fire in the hearth. “We should make the most of the absence of our ladies,” he chuckled. “Is there anything you would like to discuss with me?” Brooke was more likely to be amenable to his son's concerns and requests while in a relaxed and affable mood.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Beverley's eyes lit up at the prospect of being able to do whatever he wanted with any of their horses. It widened the possibilities in his mind. 

 

"I wager His Majesty would have something involved specifically for the ladies," Beverley wagered. It did not take many powers of reasoning to suggest such a thing given the King's penchant for women. "Whatever might get Mama's mind off gardening...That might be the only reason I am happy it is so very cold. She feels she is in competition with some nobody Mrs. Something-or-Another*," he added with a snort. 

 

"Nothing in particular," he replied. "There has not been much going on aside from the seasonal, erm, things. I have spent much of my time attempting to gain funds for Cumberland's Rupertinoe one way or another." He shrugged. "I do not think I am very good at soliciting coin. It is...a business more suited to a merchant...or someone with trade background who deals in...funding."

 

It was quite true that those of the nobility did not particularly have that skill. They might have some in managing money or maneuvering what they had of income from properties, but making more money had never been the forte of any peer. Beverley, in particular, had not shown use in that department, and it made him wonder if it was more some form of test.

 

(OOC - * that was from a thread awhile back)

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Brooke's heart swelled with pride at the look of excitement in Beverley's eyes. He had probably not expected his father to give him so much freedom with their horses. It was another step towards easing him into the responsibilities that would one day be his. The Earl trusted his son with horses. He knew much more about them than he knew about managing properties. But that would change eventually.  It was best to start with something he already knew that the boy enjoyed.

 

The older man nodded. The King never forgot ladies and would enjoy watching their bosoms bounce when they rode. He chuckled at Beverley's mention of his mother's gardening obsession. “Women can be ambitious too. We gentlemen have more opportunities to compete against each other than they do. There's nothing wrong with her wanting to best another lady at gardening.  In fact, I hope she's successful.”

 

Brooke wasn't surprised that Beverley wasn't adept at persuading other nobles to part with their money. He wasn't either, but he'd learned a few tricks over the years. “What I've discovered is that the best way to persuade a man to make a donation is not to ask for it. When you talk to various lords, casually mention that another lord has made a generous contribution. I'll be making one, so you can use me if you'd like. They won't want me to look better than them and they will donate voluntarily.”

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Oh but my point is that she will be, Papa! Even worrying of it is silly, for Mama is a great lady, a countess and also a baroness in her own right; this other woman is...Mrs. Black or Brown or Something, barely a gentlewoman," Beverley scoffed, highly  in favor of his mother. 

 

Such was expected. They were a very old family and thus snobby of new money or risen merchants. Beverley had a very good conceit of his own name and heritage. 

 

Beverley sighed at his father's advise, "That is what I have been doing, my lord, trying to appeal to a man's sense to out-do the last. I have done well with it, but I fear it shan't impress. I do not even know if it would be enough to pay for one ship's worth of new cannon. There is the little shooting and dinner event tomorrow*, but even in my wildest dreams doubt that it would do even as little as double that."

 

Nevermind that only three ships currently had Rupertinoes because they were so bloody expensive to make...Even enough for one ship more might be impressive in fortnights if years had only yielded three. Beverley, however, was not particularly used to achieving meager results in one of the few things he was actually good at. Though the younger Saint-Leger found it hard to see, there were reasons why he had not just kept his position but done well with the most princely duke of the realm. Unfortunately, so far as Beverley could see, that had nothing to do in the very least with his financial sense, for he had  very little of it!

 

"And I shall be so concerned over the coin piece of matters, that I fear it shall impact my shooting in front of so many people..."

 

Beverley did not have the same natural talent with firearms that he did with horses, but he generally did well with them; after all, he was skilled with all that soldierly stuff. But...he had never been very good at managing his nerves. 

 

(OOC - it's in Letters, Brooke is invited there)

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Brooke shared his son's superiority and had, in fact, raised Beverley to hold himself above those whose titles were more recent than theirs. He couldn't see the problem with letting Margaret compete at gardening with a lady of lower status. She would prevail, but it was often not the victory that was most exciting, but the process of getting there. He understood such things well. “There's only a few days left in the season, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. I believe there was a gardening club last spring. Perhaps there will one this year as well. If not, maybe she can revive it. She can then compete with other fine ladies.”

 

Smart boy. He had done exactly what Brooke had done in the past concerning soliciting donations and had not needed his father's advice at all. He was proud of Beverley's cleverness and intelligence but felt a bit sad that his guidance wasn't needed as much as it had traditionally been. Then again, children grew up and they had to be encouraged to stand on their own. In Beverley's case, it was quite important, as he would eventually take on his father's role as Earl of Brooke.

 

Young people always thought that everything depended on them. “It is not your responsibility to raise all of the money for the cannons. It seems that you are already doing your best. Some lords are reluctant to part with their money. The shooting event will get them together and they'll be more likely to try to outdo each other with contributions. I think more money will be raised than you think.”

 

Brooke was actually looking forward to that event. He was an excellent shot and a hardly ever missed his target. Unfortunately, he couldn't help his son with his nervousness because he didn't understand that particular trait. He had always been bold and unafraid to take on any new challenge that came his way. Nor was he prone to worrying about things that he couldn't change.

 

“Put everything out of your mind but hitting your target, and you should be fine. It's the Duke's show. Let him handle the monetary side of things and just enjoy yourself.”

 

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"Do you truly think so?" he asked, raising a brow. "I only fear some of my, erm, difficulty comes from it being Christmastide. Many have spent much coin on gifts already. Many of the gifts for His Majesty were quite lavish."

 

There was something amusing about Brooke telling him to enjoy himself! Beverley smiled and looked down for a moment. Usually the problem was Beverley enjoying himself too much. Or that was his lord father's typical complaint at least. Then again, he might not have a lot of industriousness in general, but he was very devoted to his duties. 

 

"I don't know if I can put everything from my mind..." Beverley had a tendency to be worrisome, it was very true. Beverley had spent too much time sick in childhood to escape such things. Most everything he was nervous about all had to do with the feelings he got in his stomach and how those same feeling generally came before he got violently ill too. When he got nervous and his stomach did flip flops for any reason, it struck that same fear of getting really sick. "Maybe...if I shoot first or early at least." Then he'd have less time to overthink. 

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Brooke nodded. “That's possible. You might have better luck in the spring.” His own gifts to the King and Queen had been very expensive, but he had money to spare. Many lords did not, yet felt obligated to present gifts that the royal couple would remember. Though he was sure that Cumberland wanted to raise funds for his cannons as soon as possible, it seemed from Beverley's words that it wasn't going to happen. Maybe he would receive enough for a few, but not for all of the ships in the fleet. He would need to continue to solicit contributions next season.

 

“You might start planning ahead and give thought to events that can be held in the spring that will bring in more donations.” The Earl did hope that his son was not solely responsible for collecting money for the cannons. It was a lot of responsibility to be placed on one young man's shoulders.

 

Brooke's heart had thawed a bit since Beverley had initiated their reconciliation last week. Although loath to admit it, their estrangement had upset him and he had found his mind going over their argument again and again, trying to figure what either of them could have done differently. And he had wondered constantly how his son was doing on his own.

 

Apparently, their time apart, as well as his recent marriage, had matured him. He had done nothing this season to raise his father's ire, and Brooke did want him to enjoy himself at the shooting match as long as he didn't place any bets on the outcome. He was also pleased that Beverley seemed healthier and not as prone to illness this winter. Perhaps his frailty was fading with age.

 

“You can suggest it to Cumberland,” Brooke advised. “If you shoot first, then you won't have to worry about that part of it anymore.”

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  • 4 weeks later...

"I will have to come up with a reason why..." Beverley postulated. He wished to be prepared in case. "I should not like to admit to being nervous..." 

 

He looked at his father through the corner of his eyes, wondering if he was going to get a cautionary statement about lying, but in some way he knew this was not the usual case of lying. One could not be at court and never lie; in fact, his entire existence at court was a necessary lie for they were both Catholic and pretending at being Protestant! 

 

"Or perhaps I should not shoot at all and keep to seeing to the smoothness of affairs...and the donations of course." He bit his lip. If it was simply Cumberland, or even a few older lords that he knew, he would not be so worried. 

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“There is nothing wrong with appearing enthusiastic,” Brooke advised. Little white lies didn't bother him. Everyone lied to make themselves look good. His son might be surprised if he knew that the Earl had done his fair share of exaggerating when he was young. Lying to deceive was another matter entirely. Hiding their Catholicism was misleading, but it was an unavoidable misrepresentation.

 

“I think you'll regret it if you don't participate. But you can use your duties as an excuse for shooting first, if you would rather not seem too eager.” Brooke could suggest to Cumberland that Beverley shoot before anyone else, but he didn't want to make things too easy for the boy. He would not be able to rely on him forever.

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  • 4 weeks later...

"I am certainly not afraid of appearing enthusiastic," he agreed. It just would not be his true reason, but he could easily employ it, or he could use his duties. 

 

"Perhaps both reasons together are more compelling." Enthusiastic and wished to be free to perform his duties, trying to solicit their best chances for funding. 

 

"Are you going to bring any of our rarer pieces to shoot?" he asked. Part of such events was in showing such things, and Cumberland was very fond of antique and odd weapons and firearms. Beverley could not assume to bring anything himself, for his father rarely trusted him with anything of value that Beverley might mistreat or lose to a bet. The young viscount felt he was slightly more intelligent than that at his current age, but considering his father kept track of his cravat pins and jewelry for that same purpose, there was little thought that he was trusted with other heirlooms of greater value. 

 

"I should be quite interested to see what Lord Worcester brings." For Beverley knew his father-in-law's family was old like theirs and was bound to have some interesting things, and there were some benefits to being a new son-in-law. 

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Brooke nodded. “That sounds like a good plan to me.” He didn't want Beverly to regret not taking part in the shooting just because he was nervous. The Earl had made many decisions when he was young that he had later rued. A few he still did, but that was water under the bridge and he tried not to dwell on what he could not change.

 

“Of course,” he confirmed when his son asked if he was going to take some of his rare firearms to the gathering. “I'll be the odd one out if I don't.” Those who owned such valuable pieces would certainly want to show them off. Brooke was not one to brag, but nor did he wish to appear lacking. “I have not decided which ones yet. I'm open to suggestions.” Beverley would be welcome to use them, but he saw no need to state what the boy already knew. As long as Earl was there with him, there was no harm in it.

 

“I'm sure everyone will bring some interesting weapons.” Brooke didn't say it aloud, but he hoped that his son's father-in-law didn't have any firearms that would outdo his. Worcester would probably let Beverley use his as well. “Maybe we will get to try some of them out.” Men could be quite proud of their possessions and since everyone who attended would be avid marksmen, it was definitely possible that they take turns shooting different guns.

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