Perchance tinder & sparks | visiting Beverly 3rd mid morning- Xmas 1677

[George Hardwick III]

The dapper Earl Chichester rapped upon Beverly's door.  Immediately he was self-aware, and was compelled d to adjust his cravat. His cravat was a cheery canary yellow, housed within its satin folds was a sizeable jet stone.  The rest of his courtly ensemble was fine navy wool justacorps, well brushed,  with breeches, waistcoat and stockings in varying and complimentary shades of grey. He was the very image of a well turned out gent with no expense spared at the tailors.  

Hearing the sound of door handle rattle (precursor to it’s opening), he took a half step away.  Brows raising in hopes he addressed the opener: "Lord Chichester, to see Lord Beverly is he is in?"

[Robert Saint-Leger]

Since the shooting event was that day, Lord Chichester had aptly chosen to visit his little space in the palace to find him. 

 

Though the little sitting room and bedroom were not particularly large enough to merit a servant to open the door, Beverley did not open doors and it was thankful that he always had Dudley at his side. Valet and reporter of events to his Papa. Thus, it was the salt & pepper haired Dudley that greeted the earl. 

 

 

 

Beverley was already dressed in his scarlet uniform, complete with his navy blue sash, for Beverley's commission technically was not a naval one and it was the naval touch to his ensemble. His hair was pulled back with the same color ribbon, and he contemplated having Dudley change it to a plait, for he did not wish it blowing about and tickling his face when he was trying to shoot. He was going to have enough thoughts going through his head, let alone the added distraction of hair! While he was known as a great rider, anyone with a cavalry commission had to be able to shoot from a horse too which considering how inaccurate weapons of the time were known to be, was not very easy. Shooting from solid ground should not make him so very nervous. Doing things, especially military things, was where his ability was best; it was generally talking that was not his strength, but the attention of so many great men around was daunting for Beverley. With his father and father-in-law watching too!

 

He took a deep breath and then there was a knock on the door. He turned as Dudley opened the door and greeted Lord Chichester.

 

"Good afternoon, Lord Chichester. How are you?" He smiled and gave a welcoming nod. "By chance, how is the weather outside? I have been here in the palace since early this morning." 

[George Hardwick III]

It was the older man who attended Beverly opening the door; George's eyes quested beyond him.   

And there Beverly was, his cheery voice inviting.  

"Very well thank you." the Earl smiled and took a step in.   "It is fair given the season..." he appreciated Beverley's well groomed attire, "though with flurries of snow that a flake might discover its way down an unsuspecting  collar."  Was that a tease to his more delicate friend?  Yes, he was just delighted to see Beverly again.  George grinned. 

"And is your Lady wife in?"  He looked towards a closed door - he had promised himself not to act disappointed if she was.  The fact still remained that a woman’s presence would be a dampener on conversation.  "I did happen to bring her a gift." he withdrew a box of swiss chocolates from behind his back wrapped with a fluffy red bow.  Privately he knew who it was really meant for.  "You enjoy liqueur centres I hope?" 

Edited January 15, 2019 by George Hardwick III

[Robert Saint-Leger]

"Lady Beverley," he shook his head, "No, she is at Brooke House with my lady mother and sister. They were giggling and plotting about something late last night as women do, so no doubt there is some sort of affair with flowers today or something the like." 

 

He had very little insight into what women were doing. He had been so consumed about the shooting, he did not truly realize a thing about the auction going on that day. Clearly, that was something ladies had to giggle about whether partaking or not, but Beverley was entirely unaware.

 

"I confess to simply knowing that, erm, most ladies like sweets, so I am certain she will be sad to have missed you to receive them properly." Beverley, clueless as ever, had little idea that any of it was for him.

 

"Are you coming to shoot? I must head there a little before the event, but you know you are welcomed to join, having been a part of our cause already."

[George Hardwick III]

It was good news. “Ahh… “ George hoped he sounded disappointed. But as Beverly further explained his wife’s whereabouts, this Bachelor guessed exactly what those giggles and laughter had been all about. “It was likely the auction, Her Majesty has subpoena’d any gents unwed or unpromised and is auctioning them off in the name of charity…”

“Your sister must be intending to attend, perhaps at your wife's encouragment.” George deduced with a tip of head.  Beverly's sister possessed the highest calibre and connections, George imagined the womens giggles had been over a revelation of romantic focus.   

“Ah but do open them yourself Beverly, I shall deliver another box to her personally some other day.” George encouraged, wishing that he could be plainer of his interest but he did not dare… his smile warm upon his young friend, noting the manner he handles them.

Should Beverley agree, upon opening the box he’d find a circular arrangement of prettyily shaped chocolates  – with a single one in the centre wrapped with a festive paper. 

“I would love to attend.” he readily replied.  There had been mention of the event, but he’d not locked it down before, the reason being: “I am no marksman mind, I’m partial to a duck shoot now and then, but it’s not ‘shot’ being fired today I’d recon.  I’ll not stand out too much if I didn’t participate would I?”    

[Robert Saint-Leger]

Beverley blinked. He had been so taken up with Rupertinoes and coin and old, rich lords, he had not even realized that the Queen was to have an event. He blinked again. 

 

His mind was whirring with whether or not there was anything he should be doing to help his wife's suit to get into the Queen's Household for this charity event! Perhaps he should make sure his Papa knew all about this so that his wife could go with Annie, if she was, indeed, going. She was a widow and she had her own money, to a degree, but his father could certainly supplement that in the name of Saint-Leger advancement! He would have to mention it at the shooting event. He heaved sigh. All that happened in a few pregnant seconds. 

 

"I do not know how I missed that," he said, still a bit in surprise. "But, erm, I admit I should rather Annie do some choosing the second time around. She has three healthy sons, that is a grand value for potential heirs, and my lady mother has a suo jure barony, so should anything happen to me, it will be she and her children that inherit that next as well. I simply wish her to be happy and to be able to stay at court, without my papa matching her with some old man."

 

Then he wondered aloud, "Does Lord Feversham have a wife?" A French Protestant who was both in the Duke of York's Household and the Queen's Lord Chamberlain was ideal, especially considering he was a man of military prowess and ancient lineage too. "Hmmm."

 

Her previous husband had been a cousin with an Irish title, and it had taken her away and Beverley did not like that. 

 

"What a husband I would be if I did not wait for her!" he chuckled. Paused to say to his servant, "Will you plait this? It is going to blow in my face." He sat so that such might be accomplished and then said, "She loves such things far more than I, and my stomach is in a twist over the preparations." 

 

George might notice Beverley stumbled over his words far less now that he  knew the other man better. 

 

"I doubt it shall stand out," Beverley said. "Only so many can shoot at a time, and there shall be a number of gentlemen." 

 

(OOC - Lord Feversham's wife kicks the bucket in 1679, so unless we fudge a slightly earlier death, he's married  )

[George Hardwick III]

"Yes I believe the Ladies choosing is precisely what the event is about.” George gave a wry smile.  “It’s rather, well, unsettling is what I’d say.”

That is what George said, as he was meanwhile mulling over what a fine match Beverly’s sister would make. And she was proven to bear sons.  "Feversham is married." and at that moment it suited George to tell Beverly that.  

“But nothing shall happen to you Beverley!” George kept his pats on the younger mans shoulder light, resisting the urge to actually squeeze.  “You are as fine and fit a figure of a young lord at court as I have ever seen. And if dignity counts any for longevity, then you shall live to be a hundred.”

George patted Beverly’s shoulder a time or two more.

 He was rewarded then, to an opportunity to play with Beverly’s wavy brown hair. Moving into a place behind him, George finger combed to begin (resisting his latest urge to smell, for that might creep the young lord out!).  He begun dividing the lush crop into three.   

Distracted, George failed to realise that Beverly was talking about his sisters marriage still, rather he thought his young friend fretting about the Shoot. 

“Gentley gently.” George spoke in a soothing tone.  He knew Beverly well enough to recall that he suffered undue anxiety, and spoke calmly to settle.  “The worst that can happen, rarely does. And even if it does, you have many friends who will raise to assist. I for one would not see you in trouble without wanting a share of the remedy too.” George did not rush with the plating, his eyes savouring the oft-hidden skin at the nape of Beverly’s neck – allowing his fingers to ‘accidentally’ brush past.

“With practically a promise of anonymity, how could I refuse.” He chuckled, and undid the plait.  “It was crooked. Ill have to start again.”

Edited January 21, 2019 by George Hardwick III

[Robert Saint-Leger]

"I do not think gentlemen seeking wives are as sentimental as worrying about what may or may not happen to me," Beverley replied, somewhat amused. He viewed it in quite a business-like sense himself. In making a good match, any potential titles that could pass through a woman were ideal. 

 

The viscount was rather shocked when Lord Chichester went to plait his hair. He had most sure been speaking to Dudley, who seemed somewhat as surprised as his master.

 

"Oh, erm, I meant Dudley! Surely I would not give, erm, you orders," Beverley explained, hastily. He did not understand Chichester's interest in him as odd in that way, being rather naive about such things, but he thought it far from proper for someone to do his hair who was not his valet. Nor would he have thought that the earl would know how to plait hair! Beverley had not the first idea! He was far from self-sufficient himself.

 

"Do sit. Besides, Dudley makes it fit just so under my hat." 

 

 

(OOC - I'm not sure Beverley would have let him go quite as far as George wished without saying anything 🤣)

[George Hardwick III]

George was the last person anyone should listen to if seeking advice on courtship and marriage.  “Suffice to say she has much to offer a prospective husband.” He admitted.

Though George was not wanting to think on sensible things at the moment, not when Beverly was just there, and being so charming in his unaware way.  The dear fellow took nearly everything so seriously, and always conscious of the right thing and appearances of course. 

So it was that as Beverly asked for his hair to be done, there was no excuse for George’s misunderstanding. It had been purely a Desire to be close to him that had the Earl step in (cutting of Dudley!) 

However Beverly’s expressed shock quickly broke him from his day dream. 

“Oh!” he dropped the clutch of hair like it was a dead rat - lifting his hands up into the air.  

“What was I thinking! I am so sorry.  Ahhhh… too often I have brushed my mothers, more recently sisters hair of course.” Shit shit shit.    George was a brilliant red, inwardly cussing himself as the obviousness of Beverly’s request to manservant dawned.  He’d have preferred to make a polite excuse at that moment and flee, but then young Beverly insisted he sit. Possibly to keep an eye on him. 

“Well, ah yes.” The embarrassed George sat, for once with absolutely nothing more to say.  

Edited January 23, 2019 by George Hardwick III

[Robert Saint-Leger]

George was likely lucky that Beverley was not always the most socially aware interpersonally, so he thought nothing along the lines of what George was thinking. 

 

Beverley continued as George sat and Dudley began fixing his hair, "Yes, she does, so I hope that equals into possibilities that will please both my sister and my father. She has not mentioned anything to me, and I had not thought to ask my lady wife..." He considered that. He could have simply asked his sister himself.

 

It was not as if he did not have enough to think about. 

 

"I apologize, I am quite distracted."

[George Hardwick III]

"And understandably so." Still somewhat flummoxed, George could however see that the distracted sate of Beverly counted in his favour this instance. Under a different circumstance Beverly might have critiqued his misunderstanding very differently.  "Todays Shoot is very important for Cumberland no doubt.  Rupertino shall not be a success without a wave of support from the peers. And I dare say hosting an event like this shall further remind all of his history of military excellence."

"It is quite alright." George further reassured, and in an aside thought to mention, "I have heeded your advice upon Frances Cavendish." 

With todays little mental fantasy of this man figuratively blown out of the water, George was more willing to discuss women.