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Opening Reception


Prince Rupert
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Anne and the Merry Gang

As Anne approached, Rochester was the first to take note.  "Gentlemen, take note of the lady approaching.  I cannot quite place her ... oh yes, she was the one that bested Dorset at poetry," he laughed with delight.

Dorset turned, smiled and uttered

"I take exception to what you say

About the Lady of Cambray

Your mention of battle

Is little more than prattle

Still, her arrival brightens the day."

"And stiffens your cock, nay?" Rochester jibed.

Sedley laughed at the two and bowed to Anne.  "The only thing hanging in the air is the expectation for an amusing season here at Windsor, or whether it will be a dull affair."

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Beverley & Athenry

 

A soft snort and snicker of approval met his friend's joke both about slower quarry and knowing to whom to lodge complaints. Not being the most skilled in the art of humor, Beverley appreciated it in others. Whilst he occasionally managed to be funny on purpose, his success at humor was almost always accidental and equally rare.

 

"In this case, I thought you would appreciate your placement, but you are one of few whose complaints I would not loathe hearing," he replied with a smile, knowing that it was unlikely the other viscount was dissatisfied. 

 

"Illuminating, eh?" he raised his glass in brief salute and then paused to hear the experience expounded.

 

"I assume you speak of the links gained through your lady wife's sister?" Beverley guessed, brown eyes widening momentarily. "The tale between Lords Pembroke and Dorset is surely one of the, erm, most spoken upon developments of the last few months. I do not know either very well other than by reputation." Neither of which made Beverley likely to attempt a better acquaintance. A man like Dorset could tidily poke fun at him, and a man like Pembroke could tidily kill him. "I prefer the company of Captain Herbert of that bunch, and my lady wife speaks well of Lady Susan."

 

He raised his glass slowly and took a small sip.

 

"Academic minds, you say? I find far more interest and, erm, safety in that notion, I confess." Tilting his head to the side in acknowledgement, he added, "I do recall hearing some words such as that."

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Catriona, Fiona, Mountjoy and possible additions.

 

Fiona seemed to be a charming and vivacious creature and effervescently complimented him on his culinary abilities even going so far as to render him an additional curtsey. He bowed back formally in acknowledgement glad that his cjookies were so well received. “You are most kind Lady Lochend. I am pleased to hear that they were so well received.” When she herself responded to his query about their stay instead of deferring to her elder sister her demeanor somehow reminded him of Darlene. “How splendid. Let us hope that we gentlemen of the court provide a worthy stimulus for you Ladies.”

The mention of Cat’s daughter drew his attention back to the elder sister which was opportune as it seemed that Fiona had become preoccupied by other thoughts. “Oh, how remis of me for not inquiring.” Their daughters were both of the same age and it had been their intention to foster a relationship between the two children feeling that would be advantageous to their upbringing. Unfortunately, with Adam’s death and various circumstances at Court interfering that plan did not come to fruition. “Is your daughter well? I daresay my little Hope is sprouting like an overgrazed filly… all legs, large inquiring eyes and unbounded energy.” He chuckled at the comparison. The Margravina, in her Germanness, did not like his penchant for comparing his daughter to barnyard animals but, as she affectionately referred to her daughter as her Mäusezähnchen which in German meant little Mouse Tooth, she did not have much standing to complain. “Barely ambulatory but still able to get up to the most surprising mischief. She is being raised at The Queen’s Lodge by her Nanny and the household there for we believe that Epping is a more wholesome place to raise a child than London. By the way the open invitation to Epping still stands in case you find Chelsea insufficiently bucolic. I believe they would welcome the company as the margravine and I do not get out there as much as we would like.” There might not be a son in his future but he still had a little girl to dote on and brag about.

Catriona’s own offer of hospitality was soon offered and it looked as if overly vocal sheep were more an issue at Alyth that overly rambunctious children. “Although I have never been, I hear that stalking elk is quite the pastime among the Highlands.” He interjected for a conversation with Blount would not be complete without at least one reference to hunting. “Do sheep do well on your lands? In Dorset the heath is more suitable to cattle so for husbandry I tend to rely more on dairy and pigs than wool.” For landowners after the weather agriculture was one of the most banal of topics, at least superficially for even those at court relied upon their lands for the bulk of their income. “I would be pleased to take you up on your offer of hospitality if I am able. The solitude of the place sounds inviting but as for the bleating I confess I get enough of that at the Inns of Court and Parliament.”

“I dare say that there will be various sorts of amusements planned but as for their exact form I can not say. Much will depend on the Queens recouperation.”  He turned to Fiona to see if she was desirous of rejoining the conversation. “What would excite you most, a hunt, a horse race or… let me guess… a ball of gaiety, finery and dancing is more to your taste.”

As they stood chatting, he espied from the corner of his eye Douglas and Cordelia, a woman he only knew by reputation approaching. Despite being the senior ranking person, he gave precedence to Catriona to control the conversation as it was her brother approaching and politely moved a bit to one side to open a space if they wished to join.    

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Kingston & Cumberland

 

As his eyes cast around, he noticed Lady Alyth's eyes turning toward him and offered her a smile. She was with her sister and Lord Mountjoy, another gentleman whose company he had enjoyed. He hoped he could still continue to enjoy it and that Mountjoy still believed his own appraisal of Francis' worth; the gentleman had, after all, already grilled him about his presence and attention around the Queen. 

 

When Cumberland spoke, Francis gave the prince his full attention. Having had a German ward and having spent much time in the Queen's Presence chamber at the behest of the King, much of it playing Latrones with Lady Dorothea, he was able to place the term ersatz. Even without, he probably could have guessed by deducing. He gave a light and short chuckle at Cumberland's appraisal of fickle friends and fickle enemies.

 

"I am naturally suspicious of those who showed me little mind when I was plain Sir Francis with no position but whom suddenly find me desirable company," he said with candor, nodding with the prince's sentiments. "I have not lived a sheltered life, thankfully, and don't intend to become drunk on good fortune and blind to machinations and dangers; they existed in my life before this, although in different ways, and if others wish to attack me here, they will find my methods are not a coward's."

 

Perhaps it was his youthful - and somewhat cherubic - looks that made him seem an easy target, for he doubted whomever paid for such publication knew anything much about him, including his actual age. 

 

"His Majesty's gifts only reinforce my feelings of responsibility for such a position and allow me more means and ability to see to them. As it should be. I was raised on unselfish sacrifice in more ways than one; I find that example to have been the best inheritance given to me." In effort to change course, he added, "Speaking of the example of being of use to the Kingdom, I do hope the increases in funding in preparation for war have still resulted in many of your specially designed cannon outfitting our ships despite them never needing to leave port?"

 

Having been at Windsor last year when they early threats from the Dutch were discussed and the plans for the faux war laid out from His Majesty, Francis had been one of few who had known the King had never intended on sending any ships to join the Dutch. The intention had instead been for the French to pay off the King to delay, for England to get a piece of the eventual Treaty, and parliament to vote funds for the Navy; all of which had been accomplished. Once dangers and plans had been discussed, the King had then left him in Windsor with the pregnant Queen and her ladies with nary another man in the palace for company other than Cumberland and his little Beverley.

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James barging in on Anne-Elisabeth and the Merry Gang

Ah, but James loved a good crowd.

In these moods, he was electric, feeling as though he embodied the sensation of lightning in the air. The recess had been a mixed affair - some doldrums, many roaring successes at the card table, and little-to-no accomplishments in his artistic endeavors - but now, now he was well and truly alive. The hum of courtiers murmuring secrets and plying their trade (he spotted Kingston with Cumberland and Brooke’s boy with some lordling), the wine beginning to flow…holy Inspiritas was surely just around the corner.

Plus, the poet had just spotted the arrival of Ranelagh and Denbigh. He was passing fond of those two. They were like the Merry Gang, but with a certain level of sophistication that felt more admirable than libertine antics for the sake of them.

On that note, he began to weave his way towards them, having dispensed with the last of his duties to Ormonde for the time being, directed Fergal to place a certain painting in his quarters just so, and donned a charcoal frock coat embroidered in dark red with a floral pattern enveloping the outline of the hand of Ulster, a gift from his lord father. It was set over a similar maroon waistcoat and dark breeches, but fashion was ever a secondary concern. Already, he was thinking of quips about Ranelagh arriving in order to lose more coin to him.

As James did so, however, he moved towards the Merry Gang and Lady Cambray, the poetess whom he had met at the end of the season. Thinking to pass them by with a smile and a nod, one of their number (was that Dorset? He had only directly spoken to Rochester, being more familiar with Buckingham) was reciting a bit of doggerel. The challenge could not be resisted - these were the men whose works he would one day surpass.

Lingering for a moment, he heard the rest of the poem, emerald eyes only turning to them at the conclusion, with Rochester’s quip. Bold as you please, the younger libertine pivoted to that Earl’s side, shooting Anne-Elisabeth a brief grin before (without invitation, of course) offering up his own riposte:

“Another challenger enters the fray,
But not, perhaps, against dear Cambray,
For the only thing that stiffens,
Is the quality of competition,
For Merry men grow limp when younger minds take the day.”

With a smirk sharp enough to reveal his boyish dimples (for he was proud of the attempt, despite hating the genre with a passion normally reserved for blood feuds), James concluded in his Ulster brogue, “With all apologies to the good lady for the interruption, of course.” His eyes turned to Rochester, who had once approved of his attempts at wit but advised him to add more bite, adding a parting shot. “You may clap whenever, my lords.”

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Sophia being approachable

 

Though Sophia entered the reception on her husband’s arm, they parted almost immediately, which suited her just fine. Now in her third trimester of pregnancy and small in stature, her belly was huge and she found it difficult to walk with grace, though pride showed in every aspect of her carriage. She was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a mother, no matter whose child was growing within her. The blonde Countess also hoped that her condition might result in a closeness with the Queen, who had recently given birth. She had never given up hope of becoming Her Majesty’s friend.

 

She had chosen a lilac gown for the occasion, made of silk sprinkled with pearls. Though it was far from low-cut, an abundance of cleavage still strained against the confines of her bodice, which was trimmed with her signature Venetian beaded lace. Her bosom was now enormous. Sophia often joked that if she decided to feed her baby herself, it would definitely not lack for food. The gown had an empire waistline circled by an iridescent ribbon with long bows at the center and sides and a cluster of pearls at each center. The skirt draped beautifully over her baby bump and was hemmed with Venetian lace. Her jewelry consisted completely of pearls and her hair was arranged in a lovely style, with ringlets flowing down her back intertwined with curled ribbons.  Sophia carried a white fan painted with pastel butterflies, their bodies made of pearls. At this time of year, she was usually cold, but the effort of carrying her precious but heavy child in front of her warmed her up considerably.

 

Although she smiled as she gazed around the room, one could see her wince occasionally. The baby kicked almost constantly now. At first it had been wonderful feeling, and though the young Countess now sometimes found it irritating, at least she knew the baby was healthy. Its movements were quite strong and often kept her awake at night. On rare occasions, she could actually see a tiny bump quickly push against her skin during a particularly vigorous kick. She had been told that that would occur more often as her pregnancy progressed.

 

Her gaze drifted slowly around the room. As her ice-blue eyes lit upon the Earl of Arundel, whom she affectionately addressed by his first name when they were alone together, the child began pounding her relentlessly. Be still, little one, she whispered, gently patting her blossoming belly. Was it so active because it recognized its father? Sophia was becoming more certain that she was not carrying Juan’s baby with each passing day. She and Henry had already made plans to meet so there was no reason to get his attention, though she hoped he would speak to her before the reception was over.

 

She smiled when she saw her friend Catriona engaged in conversation with Lady Mountjoy’s husband and her sister. Sophia was glad she was back and made a note to talk to her tonight or … failing that … send her a note to invite her to tea. And approaching them was Douglas with an older lady she had not met. A relative, perhaps? She had not seen Douglas in what seemed like forever. So much had happened since then. She still cared for him deeply and he was one of the few people she could trust in all things.

 

Reluctantly, she pulled her eyes away from him and stopped a servant with a tray, asking for a glass of fruit juice. She didn’t feel comfortable drinking wine at this late stage of pregnancy, though she was currently tempted because it might calm down her active child.

 

Edited by Sophia de la Cerda
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Sarah Jennings Finds Sophia

The Duchess of York has released the ladies that accompanied her so Sarah was free to mingle. More were arriving but none that she wanted to really interact with. Her gaze found a familiar person and she smiled as she made her way to where that Lady stood glass in hand.

"Lady Toldeo  ...... My you have blossomed! I think that wish made last New Year's Eve indeed came true."

She offered a curtsey to the Countess Toledo her eyes dancing with amusement. 

"You are well - in all seriousness? Is it alright to be here in your advanced state? I mean when is the child due?" 

Sarah was full of wit and humor but now she was quiet and serious her full attention given over to the Lady who was clearly soon to deliver.

"Why are you standing and not sitting  ....... Will you allow me to help you to a chair?"

Sarah's personal experience with pregnancy and childbirth extended only to her older sister but she remembered how things were for her in the last stages.

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Beverley and Athenry

“Quite pleased indeed, my lord – just the perfect hint of irony,” Athenry answered the other man warmly on the matter of the apartments, before turning to watch the arrival of York – the figure (domestically, at least) to whom his wagon still seemed most ready to be hitched. That it was a Catholic wagon remained both hindrance and boon, and yet – No, no. Saints alive, man, you are having a conversation with your dearest of friends. Pontificate later.

It was far too early, and he was far too close to sober, for his mind to begin wandering to a frustrating stew of ambitions just yet.

Cadell noted the return of Robert Saint-Leger the rather-alarmed deer as his wide-eyed friend’s mind leapt towards Pembroke. Attempting to smooth out any such concerns, he said with a quiet, measured playfulness, “I had meant my wife and her boy primarily, but – yes, him too.” The return of the Welshman’s muted smile, a usual gesture of friendliness from a slightly-reserved scholarly sort, served as a pause. “It cannot be changed that we are family now, and so I would rather be friend than foe.”

“Plus, I can finally confirm the grandeur of that menagerie,” the viscount chuckled while considering another matter, one best discussed in full elsewhere. “Does Lady Beverley know Lady Susan rather well, then?”

As that topic ran its course, Athenry laughed again, a thing whose subdued tones would grow momentarily lilting, as though his sense of humor was reminded of its Radnorshire roots. “I don’t often fear for my life in the company of academics such as Mr. Sprat, it’s true. But ah, my friend, there is so much untapped potential. We in England have some gatherings of the mind, but nothing on a French scale, no…prevailing institution outside the coffee-house and those of whose philosophy tends towards the natural.”

“I would have us start small, and…” A familiar realization – that of having let his fiercely-held views dominate a friendly conversation – crept in, and he shook his head, abashed. “Perhaps it would only be fair to let you update me on your life at some point as well.”

Edited by Cadell Mortimer
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Cordelia and Douglas approach CB, Catriona and Fiona

The MacBain clan were nothing if not unconventional. It was the key to both their successes, and the wariness with which some members of court viewed them. How Lady Lucas felt about them was up to her, but she might as well meet them. "We'll hae oor family reunion later."* He assured his companion, offering her a long arm clad in red velvet as he set his feet in the direction of his sisters and Lord Mountjoy. MacBain family gatherings tended to be a bit loud and boisterous, especially when they'd not all seen each other in a while. 

Cordelia asked solicitously about his accommodations, indicating that she was pleasantly surprised with hers. "As a Lairdy an' matron o' court I wuid expect ye tae receive nocht less." He asserted. Shouldn't they all respect their elders? And from the sound of things, with her match-making, Cordelia had her fingers in a lot of families' pies. "I hae arranged a guid room at th'Hen's Toes." It meant that he had comfortable accommodations, and was better than some closet or the Life Guard barracks, which was what he was expecting. He was, of course, making an assumption, but he felt it was a pretty safe one. Plus being one step removed from the castle meant a degree more privacy, should he desire it. "God helps thaim as help thaimsels."** He added quietly, with a wink to his companion. He could submit himself to Beverley's care or vagaries - he didn't think the man knew him from Adam and would likely just stick him wherever there was room - or he could sort himself out and cease to be the other man's problem. 

More were arriving. A pretty lady he didn't know joined the Merry Gang with a saucy smile, and soon afterwards a dark-haired young fellow who looked like he didn't get enough sun. Kingston slotted himself in next to Cumberland, seemingly still bent on his rapid rise. Douglas would give the man that; he knew how to work the court scene and benefit from it. The Duke and Duchess of York were announced - might they be the ones leading court this season? - along with their retinue, and a pair of fellows Douglas vaguely recognised from some libertine parties but they were not part of the Merry Gang, whom the big Scotsman found a bit overdone. Then Lady Toledo arrived, and for a moment the world paused. She was still beautiful, light and vivacious, and she was clearly very pregnant. Another lady who'd slipped beyond his reach last season - who'd probably never really been in it, save for their mutual attraction. 

The big Scotsman made himself turn his attention back to those whom they approached, sketching a graceful bow to the group as they arrived. "Micht we hae the pleasure o' yer comp'ny, if we arenae interruptin'?" Douglas asked, with a smile at the three, turning more towards a grin as his gaze moved to his sisters. "Lairdy Lucas, I trust ye ken the one an' ainly Charles Bloont, Laird Mountjoy." Surely everyone knew Lord Mountjoy? The man was the ultimate gentleman, impossible not to like and whilst Douglas didn't know him well, they'd both participated in a Royal hunt some time back when he was fairly new to court. "An' I'm delighted tae present my sisters; Catriona MacGregor, Lairdy Alyth, an' Fiona MacBain, Lairdy Lochend."  He indicated each of the young ladies in turn. They really were a beautiful pair, that couldn't be denied. "This is Lairdy Cordelia Lucas, wha's acquaintance I was lucky enou' tae make last Christmas."***

Subtitles
* "We'll have our family reunion later."
** "As a Lady and matron of court I would expect you to receive nothing less. I have arranged a good room at the Hens Toes. God helps those that help themselves."
*** "Might we have the pleasure of your company, if we aren't interrupting? Lady Lucas, I trust you know the one and only Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy. And I'm delighted to present my sisters; Catriona MacBain, Lady Alyth, and Fiona MacBain, Lady Lochend. This is Lady Cordelia Lucas, who's acquaintance I was lucky enough to make last Christmas."

Edited by Douglas FitzJames
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Cordelia and Douglas Approach CB, Catriona and Fiona

She gave him a smile at his presumption regarding rooms.

"Believe me I have not the influence you think! Tis only because I am kin to the Duke of Newcastle and I suppose 'my age' yet tis a kindness much appreciated."

"It is really called that? And yes that is true."

She took the offered arm and soon they reached where the others stood. He provided the introductions as she expected him to have done.

She knew Lord Mountjoy by sight who did not but she could not remember any interaction.

"Lord Mountjoy." She offer him a curtsey. "A pleasure to at last meet you."

"Lady Alyth "  

"Lady Lochend."

She gave a small nod of her head as she offered them her curtsey.

Her smile took in the Company.

She wanted to observe these two Ladies up close and they were indeed VERY lovely. In fact they might well outshine any Lady that was there!

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CB, Catriona, and Fiona approached by Cordelia and Douglas

 

Lord Mountjoy accepted her thanks for the cjookies (which Fiona hoped that Cat would make soon, as the house they had rented had a kitchen). As for gentlemen providing encouragement for them to stay, she barely stopped herself from proclaiming that they always did. Her sister wouldn’t appreciate thatcomment and she didn’t want to get into yet another argument when they got home. Just because she had won the first one didn’t necessarily mean she would prevail in the second.

 

Their talk turned to children, hunting, and … of all things … sheep. Fiona tried to pay attention, but her mind kept wandering along with her gaze. A movement of scarlet caught her eye and she noticed that Dougie and his companion were on the move … directly toward them. If anyone could liven up a conversation, it was her brother, though why he brought the older lady with them, she had no idea. The siblings were a rowdy bunch when together. Maybe they would scare her away.

 

Lord Mountjoy’s question brought her back to the present. “Oh, I do hope there will be a ball!” Fiona exclaimed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to dance the night away!”

 

Douglas and the lady approached them, and he introduced her as Lady Cordelia Lucas. She greeted each of them in turn, and when she addressed Fiona, the young girl curtsied. “I am delighted to meet you, my lady,” she replied, trying her best to look sweet and shy. Maybe she could fool the older woman into thinking she was proper and demure.  She hoped that Dougie didn’t laugh at her.

 

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Sophia and Sarah

 

Sophia had not seen Mistress Jennings for quite some time and she smiled as the young woman approached. A chuckle escaped her lips when Sarah mentioned their New Year’s wishes. “I wished for an alliance between England and Spain, if you recall. As far as I know, that has not yet been achieved.” She leaned forward slightly. “Or did you read my mind? I made a private wish too, and that one was for this child I carry.

 

“And yes, I am quite well.” A servant strolled up to her, curtsied, and handed her the glass of fruit juice she had asked for. “I have two months to go, but I am so large it probably looks as if the baby was due yesterday.” She took a sip. It tasted like apples and cherries.

 

The blonde Countess shook her head. “I am not tired enough to sit down yet. But when I am, I will let you know.” Though she liked Sarah, she was probably one of those ladies who believed that pregnant women should wait to give birth lying in bed in a dark, stuffy room. Most Englishwomen did. Her father had told her that her mother had gone on a walk the day before she was born. Sophia planned to do the same.

 

“So did your New Year’s wish come true?” She could not remember what Sarah had asked for. There were more important things on her mind these days.

 

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A Clan of Scots, CB and Cordelia

 

Yes, Fiona wasn't the shy one in the family.   Cat had to smile at the easy way Mountjoy responded.  The man was a true courtier.  The question about Nessia brought out a natural grin on her face.  Talking about her growing daughter was one of her favorite past times.  "I agree London isn't best for growing children, but thankfully Chelsea is far enough away.  We did spend a few months up north.  I swear, while we were at Alyth, she went from barely able to stand to sprinting.  There is nothing faster that a child with something forbidden in their hands," she chuckled.  She was unnatural for a noble in that way.  She was very hands on in the raising of Nessia.  Then again, she'd been the same way with her younger sisters when their mother lost her way.  And with the way all the girls were growing, Cat was beginning to want another child.  Motherhood suited her, but it required a father.  While the King made very pretty babies, he wasn't a permanent solution to the problem.  If she could just find someone she could like enough.

 

"Aye, deer are plentiful in the Highlands.  A good hunter can stock the larder well for a long winter," she replied, a hint of the accent slipping in for a moment.  "The sheep are doing well, though there are whispers we may have wolves, which is odd since they haven't been seen in Scotland in decades," she answered with a shrug.  "But the wool from the sheep is of a good quality for the making of fine kilts, which make them perfect for our needs.  Alyth is a market town, as it's right on a crossroads and a river.  Cattle do fine there, but for the most part, they're just passing through.  Higher up, by Lochend, it's not going to be any of these English cows.  You'd find just the Highland breed."  She smiled and shook her head.  "But if you find yourself wanting an escape, Alyth is open to you and the Margravina at any time as well."

 

She knew Fiona was probably bored out of her mind with the talk of land stewardship and was glad that the topic turned to events such as balls.  It wasn't that she was excited for them.  One ball became much like the next unless something exciting happened.  Like an attempted murder, drunken mishaps, or just some outrage.  She glanced around again, catching sight of another blond, female this time, but still known.  She flashed a smile Sophia's way, but she turned away quickly at the approach of the tall man in red and his escort.

 

Cat gave her brother a grin at his approach, dipping into an appropriate curtsy upon her introductions.  "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady," she said, smiling at the older lady.  She noted that Douglas was back to looking a bit thin.  Cat would have to find out where he was staying and send some food.  Then again, if he knew where they were staying, she knew he had no problem raiding her kitchen himself.  That's what family was for.   Her attention turned back to the group on a whole.  "I do love your dress.  The way the color shifts is delightful," she remarked to Cordelia.

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A Clan of Scots, CB and Cordelia

Surprisingly it was not Lord Mountjoy that offered the first greeting but Lady Alyth. Her smile took in her brother as well as herself as she gave her greeting in return. Even offering a compliment on her gown.

"Thank You. It is out of my usual range of color but when I saw the fabric I could not resist. I would have hated to see another wearing it."

It was something that only another woman would understand.

"Your brother was right - the two of you together are a sight to behold. This new Season will be a most interesting one  ...."

Her eyes sparkled in amusement.

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James, Anne-Elisabeth, and the Merry Gang

 

Of course Rochester would remind Dorset that she had defeated him in a limerick contest last Christmas. Usually time passed too slowly for Anne-Elisabeth but now it seemed to fly faster than a bird being pursued by a cat. She could hardly believe that she had been at court for nine months already. She was no longer a newcomer. Maybe she felt she had arrived only yesterday because the seasons were so short. She spent more time in Cornwall, where the months crawled by at the pace of a snail.

 

She had intended to approach the Merry Gang with a limerick of her own, but had not wanted to force Dorset to come up with a reply if he was still recovering from that beating. Though he had written limericks to her during recess, inventing them on the fly was more difficult. The dark-haired Countess need not have worried. He seemed to be in his usual fine form, spouting a comeback to Rochester’s remark and complimenting her at the same time.

 

She did hope Rochester’s second quip was accurate and that she and the enticing double Earl would get into some intimate mischief tonight. Until she saw him, she had not fully realized exactly how much she had missed him. Hopefully, he felt the same way. Anne-Elisabeth was certain there was at least one place at Windsor that he would like to christen with her. Perhaps he could give a tour of the castle and they could boff in every room.

 

Before she could reply, Master O’Neill, the writer she had met toward the end of last season, sauntered up to them and insulted the Merry Gang … once with his barb and twice with that abysmal mockery of a limerick. In truth, it started out well, but the last line completely butchered the rhythm with its length. Anne-Elisabeth certainly hoped his attempts at other forms of poetry were … well … more poetic.

 

His arrogance was in good company with Dorset’s and her own, and she appreciated his audacity. Due to the ‘manliness’ lessons that Dorset had given her, she was aware that gentlemen often insulted each other and even expected it. Perhaps Master O’Neill was already acquainted with the Merry Gang and they were accustomed to his taunts. She had no doubt that Dorset would provide a suitable retort.

 

Anne-Elisabeth grinned at the Irishman.

 

Interrupting a lady is rude.

No applause for that attitude,

Though you might be forgiven,

If you had been driven

To recite a limerick in the nude.”

 

Lady Cambray then turned to Sedley, though her gaze encompassed the entire group, including a saucy smile for Dorset. “The season doesn’t have to be dull, you know.

 

"If court is becoming too tame,

Why can’t we all set it aflame?

Forget unexciting,

Let’s make it inviting,

A delightful and thrilling domain.

 

"With shenanigans and parties galore,

More than anyone could ever ask for,

The mischief we make

And the chances we take

Will make Windsor shine evermore.”

Edited by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux
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Sophia and Sarah

Sarah gave a small chuckle as she leaned in to whisper 

"Well I thought that a child was only a natural wish even if you never said it aloud."

"And now I see that I was proved right."

"As for the other, well, yes that is yet to be achieved. But hope prevails." 

"Two months?" Surprise clear in her words. "How can that be with your size now? You only carry one child tis to be hoped  .... Has anyone said that you might carry two?"

"Well I shall now have to watch you very carefully. And if you show the merest flicker or twinge I shall call for a chair!"

"Is is uncomfortable? I remember with my sister and how she could barely walk and used to hang on the arm of a servant to get anywhere."

"You will I think be the topic of discussion amongst the Matrons that gather here".

"Tis frowned upon you know to be 'seen' in Public much less at a Court function. You should be at home preparing for your confinement next month not risking your husband's child."

"But I do not think that you will be much bothered by that - am I right?"

She did not say that she was one of those Ladies that thought that the Countess' behavior was unacceptable. For all her Bravado about Court she remained firmly in the Beliefs regarding pregnancy.

"Where will you go for your confinement? Obviously you cannot make a sea journey to Spain so I would guess that you remain in London?"

"I remember also that my sister was subjected to all manner of Wive's Tales .........

it is unwise to name a child too soon as there are many dangers to be faced in the first weeks after birth  .... the birth cord must be cut in just the right length. it must not touch the floor, or the child if a boy, will not be able to hold his water ......

two eggs must be broken and stirred over hot embers and applied to a plaster on your belly to ensure your future fertility   .... you must eat a poached egg and then suckle the babe  ......

It is all said in regard for the mother and child I understand but honestly it is enough to put the idea of having children quite out of my mind!"

"And I do not mean to make you fearful so please do not take it so."

"I think you are Brave indeed Lady Toledo."

Her whispered words were sincere for she was indeed very fearful of when her own time came to have a child and all that it entailed.

"My wish ..... I seem to recall asking for 'admirers' as in those not yet met. So far that has proven fruitless." 

"Perhaps this new Season will change that!"

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Cumberland and Kingston

"This is but an annoyance you will bear with time."  The Prince was left to think of his own war wounds, a couple of which greatly plagued him to this day.  "Hopefully they will pass when the funding and interest shifts."  If only his wounds might pass so easily.

"A great victory for England," the older man agreed with huff of appreciation.  "This is the best war we have not fought.  I fear the next shall not be so well rehearsed and performed.  The navy is stronger today thanks to the many actors in the drama," he acknowledged with a nod towards Kingston as one of the actors.  "My innovations are being added to our fleet, though not as widespread as I hoped.  War profiteering has raised costs for all components.  I have asked Pepys to await a period of peace for prices to fall before further outfitting.  Our funds are limited after all.  Yet, we are better battle ready for either the French or Dutch as need be."  Against that backdrop, the Duke knew that the Dutch and French would be spending vast sums to increase their own naval readiness.  In the end, the English were merely spending to keep pace.  There was no need to mention the shadow upon their success.  It was best to accept any advance, no matter how temporary. 

 

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The Merry Gang, James and Anne

James intervened in the revelry, the abruptness of which caused initial frowns of surprise.  Yet, his input was quickly welcomed.

"Bloody Hell," Rochester exclaimed, recalling his past meeting with James, "first we had a bloody woman, now a bloody Irishman.  If I hear now limericks from a trespassing Scot and Welshman, I am going back to London or will finance an opium den here at Windsor." Left unsaid was that the Earl appreciated the interruption by O'Neill.

"That tall Scot," Sedley looked in Douglas' direction, "is something of a poet too, though he butchers the English tongue.  Now if we can just find a Welshman, we will make Johnnie eat those words."

Dorset's spirits lifted with the gaiety exchanged.  It was what allowed the Merry Gang to tolerate court life.  He smiled at the various exchanges.  It was Dorset that took up the gauntlet.

"A Irish lad once crashed the Gang,

With his horrid Irish slang,

Lecturing about being limp,

With the experience of a pimp.

Not knowing one needs more than an opening bang."

Sedley interjected, at the end, "perhaps you can tell us who in Hades you are young man."  Rochester did not do the honors, forcing James to name himself.  "I am Sir Charles Sedley, this is the one and only Rochester and the Earl of Dorset.  It seems you know Cambray.  Do you come by your impertinence naturally or were you taught it?"

Unlike Anne, the others were not troubled by James' cadence on the last line of his limerick.  Sometimes one needed to say a mouthful at the end.

Dorset complimented Anne Elizabeth at the end of her poetry.  "The season is off to an excellent start," he declared.  The rest of the court could do what they wished as long as the Gang had a merry time.  Sedley proclaimed "I do not intend to enter a poetry contest at this point.  Let us save it when we are all more inebriated."

  

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Charles, Cordelia and a gaggle of Scots

 

It wasn’t until the topic of a ball was raised that Fiona showed any real interest in the conversation and Charles was giving her an indulgent smile as Douglas and Cordelia approached and interdictions were made. He had greeted Cat with pleased informality and Fiona with gallantry as befitted her personality and now greeted Cordelia with the formal respect befitting her station. He gave her a formal court bow showing his calf instead of simply bowing from the waist. “The pleasure is all mine Lady Lucas, forgive me for being so remiss as to not avail myself of your acquaintance previously. I surely am indebted to Lord Dundrag for finally remedying such a travesty.” Likewise, Blount only knew Lucas by her reputation which touted her decorum and probity and if such was to be believed quite the matchmaker. He wondered if his wife’s miscarriage was common knowledge being bantered about and what she would think about the future of his House.   Such were the vagaries of court where one could socialize cheek by jowl but still never formally meet. She certainly was the kind of person that ‘one should know’  if they wished to make anything of themselves at court. 

 

He gave Douglas a nod of acknowledgement for his introduction. Did Douglas really introduce him as the one an anal…? Surely he must have misheard. “I believe we have not seen each other since the Royal Hunt a few seasons back. If I recall correctly, you had a very spirited mount. We did run down a boar… three feet at the shoulder and well over 20 stone if it was an ounce. It went to ground in a thicket and charged when we approached on foot.” He gave but the briefest description for who would not want to know the particulars of the beast and how it was taken. He was ready to give more and exhaustive details if anyone was to profess the slightest interest.

 

“Lady Lochend was just professing her desire for a Ball this season where no doubt she will captivate all the younger gentlemen.” He said to both new arrivals then specifically to Douglas. “You might find it a challenge to keep order amongst your Troopers with such lovely temptations nearby.”

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Langdon Hanging Back

Charles was rarely the one to move into the midst of a horde of courtiers, preferring instead to watch things from a distance.  It was instinctive to soldiers, especially a Life Guard.  He stood near other soldiers at the periphery watching the interaction of courtiers as if keeping an eye on the safety of the royals.  It was an easy thing to explain.

Of course he wore his Major's uniform proudly, with a long white plume from his hat.  His buttons and boots shone with the diligence of his manservant Elam.

There were so many things on the mind of the young man.  As always, there was lady trouble. His eyes searched the crowd for Darlene, who was not his anymore.  She was noticeably absent, and perhaps mercifully for him.  Fiona had filled a place in his bed, but not in his heart.  Her sister and half brother had arrived.  It was only a matter of time before they learned of their illicit affair and Charles did not think they would take it lightly, even though he had rehearsed in his mind a scene where they might.  Then there was Catherine Sedley, though safely back in London with their son, her father was present, a man that had cajoled and threatened him to marry his daughter.  Susan Herbert was not in view.  He needed to see her urgently before her crazed brother approached him.  Lastly, he had learned that he was to share a room with his Captain, Sam Gillis.  Cumberland did not know her secret and it had been explained to him by Ablemarle that it made sense for the two officers to share a room in case someone needed to find an officer easily.  He supposed he should be grateful that they did not squeeze Dundarg in with them.  

He needed to discuss several things with Sam, besides their sleeping arrangements.  There was a villain seeking the golden dagger, a potential assassin of Fiona at large, and there might be a royal assassin lurking somewhere as well.  They needed to discuss strategy, though he supposed that could wait until they were back at their room.

His eyes kept roaming.  Where is Susan Herbert?  That was perhaps the most time-sensitive meeting.

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 Cordelia, Charles and A Gaggle of Scots

Lord Mountjoy then offered up his greetings and she could not help but smile at his Salute.

"There is nothing to forgive Sir and it has been rectified. And I must also offer my own apologies for not seeking you out earlier."

"Is your Lady wife to join you ...... I do hope that she will manage to have some time away. She has much responsibilities and now with the new baby I would think she must have even more."

"She must take care of herself as well so a night spent in Company is just the thing!"

She turned back to look at the two younger ladies and nodded her head in agreement.

"Indeed Lord Mountjoy I said the same to Baron Dundarg. I suspect that Lady Lochend will not lack for admires and many a heart shall be broken."

"I suspect things will be quite interesting from here on out."

She smiled at the younger of the sisters.

If what her brother said and her 'tastes' ran Libertine she would not find her at all receptive to a more mundane Gentleman. Which was just as well. She had two families on the fire and both needed a settlement.

She heard the comments about hunting and her gaze went back to Lord Mountjoy.

"I hope that you took no injury from  it?"

She knew full well that to a man THAT sort of topic was a thing eager to speak about rather than Balls. She had given him an opening if he wanted it.

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John Palliser Watching

He'd been back a little over a week now.

The voyage across the sea had been rougher than the last and he had feared for his tobacco crop. The risk of too much damp would ruin the leaves and make his crop worthless. A think he could not afford. Thankfully that had not happened and they arrived into London harbor a week late. He had managed to sell his crop for a goodly sum - more than he had calculated - and  this had made the hardship worth it. He had gone back to the Red Lion and taken up his old rooms. He had come alone without family which was far better for he had unfinished business both personal and private to take care of. His solicitor had seen to the things John had requested when he had left in the Spring with some results but he was frustrated all the same. His late fathers' other family was proving harder to track down. It was possible that mother and son had left the City and it was just as possible that the City hide them well. London was a place of many delights but also horrors and if one wanted to disappear it would not be hard to accomplish.

He had also been surprised by the small packet that he had been given which contained his room allocation at Windsor - something that he had not expected but was grateful for. Housed in what was an octagonal tower on the third floor his rooms were more than adequate. He had brought a man servant back with him - a Native American young man perhaps twenty or twenty two known as a "Praying Indian." This term originated back in 1646 when the General Court of Massachusetts had passed an "Act for the Propagation of the Gospel amongst the Indians." It was designed to preach, thru missionaries, Christianity to the New England tribes and it raised interest back in London and in 1649 the Long Parliament passed an ordinance forming "A Corporation for the Promoting and Propagating of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in New England."

Through contributions over 12,000 pounds were raised to invest in the cause. It was also to be used to found schools. Towns sprung up and were called Christian Indian Towns. These towns had a location that served as an outlying line of defense for the Colonies, a function that came to an end in 1675 during King Phillips War. Praying Indians offered their services as scouts to whom ever had a need. Unfortunately the Puritans in Boston objected to these towns and so Praying Indians were firstly confined to their villages and thus restricted and could not farm and grew unable to feed themselves or their families. It became dangerous for any 'Good Christian' to speak up on behalf of these Indians and by December of 1675 well over 1,000 Christian Indians had been brought to Deer Island, where many died during the winter due to the harsh conditions. Those that survived were released in 1676. After King Phillips War the General Council of Massachusetts disbanded 10 of the original 14 towns and placed the rest under the supervision of colonists, but some survived and continued their religious and educational systems. 

John's late father had been a supporter of these towns and had taken some of those Indians onto his own lands. Mark the young manservant that had come with John was a product of that. It would be a disservice to think that he would be dressed in buckskins and braided hair. Mark was an exact copy of his master John except he was dressed in the attire of a servant. Only his skin color made him stand out - the color of pale caramel and eyes black as night.

Now from his place against a wall his blue eyes had trailed after her from arrival to joining the company of Gentleman where much merriment was apparent. She looked magnificent and he had to smile glad to see that she was still as brightly dressed as he remembered. He undressed her with his gaze but made no move to seek her out. The night was young still and he wanted to see just who amongst the Gentlemen he needed to out do. He reached for a goblet from a passing servant with the intent of drinking enough that his body would leave off the growing need he was feeling for her body beneath his.

Edited by John Palliser
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Davina in a New Rolé

She had come to Windsor nearly two weeks ago wanting to find her feet as it were in this new position as "Lady of the Gardens" to assist Prince Rupert in his plans to redesign the gardens into something more pleasing to the eye. Or that was how she had interpreted it. To stay that she was out of her depth was a fact none could deny. Going from a Maid of Honor to The Queen to what she was now in the space of but a few months would not escape anyones attentions. Courtiers were all too eagle-eyed as well as eager for gossip of any kind. But she had concocted what she thinks is a plausible reason and would stick to that story. Only a few really knew the real Truth and she intended for it to remain so.

It was simply that ' since Her Majesty was with child and there was not a need to have so many Maids about her at this time it was thought to see if some might be susceptible to others positions.' She had been approached with the offer to assist Prince Rupert at Windsor since all knew about her needlework skills and her eye for color combinations as well as what went well together made her a natural choice to be of help for this undertaking. It was a story that was entirely plausible and if any thought it an odd thing and tried to read more into it she would offer nothing further. She had thought to be housed with Prince Rupert as she was under his protection but instead found herself installed in the apartment for her brother. In the Main Tower but three flights up it was two rooms -  a main room and then a separate bed chamber with a closet attached. There was room for her maid Poppy as well so she took comfort in that. She would make a space for herself and yet there was always in the back of her mind the possibilities of once again being contacted by those who had tried before. As well as those that would, she supposed, tell her what to do.

But for now everything was calm and despite her initial reluctance to appear here she was.

Approaching Langdon

She took note of who was there exchanging a greeting or a smile and a nod but she did not join in any group. Her eyes had seen him standing some distance apart as he was hard to miss in his uniform. She strolled at a leisurely pace until she was near to his side.

"Hello Charles." Said quietly. "Do not be alarmed for I am no ghost come to haunt."

He would she knew find her a bit altered from their last meeting. Her face was more angular and she had obviously lost more weight but it sat on her well. Dressed in a gown of iridescent silk taffeta the color of wisteria who's neckline was just  a bit lower than last Season. She wore no lace at her elbows. Instead silver metallic trim that she had beaded with clear Italian glass beads created sparkle all along the edge of her bodice and then down the center front of her closed skirts. It was a simple pattern but one that was also elegant in its execution. She wore only a string of grey pearls at her neck and ears and around one slender wrist. Her hair was up and several bows made out of the trim were scattered about. She did not look like she had endured sufferings and that was what she had aimed for. Her countenance was calm and her nerves steady.

But he was one of the very few who could and would see past all of that.

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Sophia and Sarah

 

“Maybe it will happen soon.” Sophia assumed that Esteban was attempting to negotiate some kind of alliance, especially since both countries now had France as a common enemy. Though with so many Frenchies at court and the King in bed with two of them ... if gossip was to believed … it was difficult to tell.

 

Glancing over toward the group of Scots (mainly for another precious glimpse of Douglas), she saw Catriona smile at her. She grinned back. A plan began forming in her mind that included both of them and would allow her to meet with Douglas without Esteban becoming suspicious.

 

The diminutive singer shrugged. “I do not believe I am carrying twins.” She hoped she wasn’t because it was rare for both babies to survive. “I think I look so large because I am so petite. A taller woman would not be as huge at this point in her pregnancy.” That was her take on it, anyway.

 

“To some people, it is frowned upon that I am here in England.” Even after a few seasons at court, Sophia still ran into courtiers who told her to go back where she came from. To them, any foreigner was not to be trusted. “You are right and I care not what others think of me. Let them talk. If I notice them looking in my direction while whispering behind their fans, I will simply smile and wave.

 

“And I am preparing for my confinement. I have already chosen the room in which I will give birth and it is being made ready for me. There is little more I can do. We are staying in a house not too far from here and that is where my child will be born.”

 

Sophia tilted her head to the side. “It is often uncomfortable. I have no trouble walking.” Probably because I do so much of it, she added silently to herself.  Her ankles swelled occasionally but so far, it didn't bother her much.  “But the baby kicks incessantly and often keeps me up at night.” She placed one hand on her swollen belly. “He is doing it right now. Hopefully that means he is healthy.”

 

She scoffed at the mention of old wives tales. “I think I have heard them all. The servants are particularly superstitious. But I pay no mind to such foolishness. I follow my instincts instead.” The young blonde leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Have you ever watched a cat give birth, Mistress Jennings? They need no confinement nor midwives. Nobody tells them what to expect. They naturally know what to do. I believe that humans possess that knowledge as well, but society’s rules and expectations have suppressed it.”

 

She laughed lyrically. “That does not mean I plan to give birth like a cat. I have no desire to bite off the cord and eat the placenta. I shall be thankful for all the assistance and amenities that I am provided with. Yet I shall also do what my instincts tell me is right.”

 

Did that make her brave? In truth, she was terrified; she just refused to show it. Sophia smiled when Sarah revealed her wish. “Indeed it can. And when you find the right admirer and marry him, your feelings about having children will change.  I thought I never wanted to have them either.  And look at me now."

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 Who’s That Girl?

 

She strolled into the reception in a flurry of blue-violet silk, bouncing blonde curls, and the scent of summer flowers. Quite a few heads turned to watch her walk in. The young woman was not beautiful. The best to be said was that she was on the pretty side of plain. Still, there was something compelling about her. Maybe it was the perfection of her attire, the elegant way she carried herself, or the secretive smile curving the corners of her lips. Or perhaps it was the air of mystery surrounding her. She looked familiar, but most had no idea who she was.

 

Even the way her hand fluttered delicately when she took a goblet of wine from a tray was alluring to some. She didn’t appear to be aware that she was being ogled. Or perhaps she just didn’t care. Her blue eyes scanned the room as if looking for somebody in particular. More than one of the gawkers wished it was him.

 

In truth, she was fully conscious of the attention she was receiving. If she had known that lessons in making the most of herself could have this effect, she would have sought assistance long ago. Now she took great satisfaction in the enticing image she presented.

 

Lady Bridget Osborne was back at court.

 

With a vengeance.

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Sophia and Sarah

Sarah shook her head a bit adding that

"Tis possible that you carry two for your size credits it. Now tis also true that your stature compared with another could make a difference."

Sophia commented that she thought that many still thought she should not be in England but Sarah had never heard that.

"Well that kind of talk will always be around I suppose but those that speak it are not ones that you would associate with anyway."

"I think any talk will be directed at your appearance here and the fact that you show no remorse in doing it. Most women would not do so simply out of respect top their husbands  ... "

"And you are right just ignore them because as long as Lord Toledo has no issue with you being present no one can say a word but you should still have a care."

"Do not become over excited please!"

"Well I am glad to hear that you have a place close at hand. Have you a good midwife? And what Ladies will you bring to attend you?"

Her eyes were draw to the others belly as she commented about the babe kicking and she had to refrain herself from reaching out to touch it.

"He? Then you certain tis a son then?"

She asked in some surprise.

"Did you seek out a Soothsayer or dangle a cord to see which way the ring turned? Have you had their natal chart drawn up to see how the planets and stars will align and to know their Fame and Fortune?"

The English were notoriously superstitious despite all their accomplishments and inventions. 

"Yes in the end your body will do what it must as you say but it is still a perilous journey."

"I shall Pray for your safe delivery and that your child is born well and without impediment."

She was sincere in that for childbirth was a trip to Hell as all women knew and bad things happened despite all the precautions.

"Ah but how long must I wait?" She queried back.

"The current crop show no new faces and so I suppose I shall have to be content with that."

"Heigh Ho."

"Yes you are indeed a shining example Lady Toledo!"

She couldn't help the small chuckle and then the sound of loud laughter drifted across the room and heads turned to try to see what was going on. She sipped her wine and then without thinking said aloud

"I wonder if Churchill will be here ......."

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The Merry Gang, Anne-Elisabeth, and James

En garde, my lady and lord.”

A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across James’ mercurial face as the Merry Gang and Lady Cambray responded to his (admittedly quite rude) interruption. He continued to smirk at the initial frowns of surprise taking – as Sedley was soon to point out – great pleasure in opportunities to be impertinent, managed a series of chuckles (that grew louder when he noted the smile Anne-Elisabeth gave Dorset – curious, that) at the poems of Lady Cambray and Lord Dorset, and frowned briefly – jaw tensing, a usual tic of his – when the two he was known to did not provide any sort of introduction.

Which, of course, was something of a hypocritical sentiment, given his own present disregard for the rules of etiquette. One day I will need no introduction at all, the Irish poet reminded himself – and with that, as well as the aforementioned accusation of impertinence, he was amused again.

“My impertinence, sir, is either my worst or third-best quality,” James shot back with a wry grin. “But I came by it honestly, I did.” On to the necessities of conversation, he responded to the introductions in kind. “An inimitable pleasure, my lords. I’m James O’Neill, heir to the Baron O’Neill of Iveagh, here in service to both His Grace the Duke of Ormonde and the craft which you all share.” But not in that order. His eyes, uncertain in their gaze even in calmer times, darted around the group, and the Irishman gave a respectfully deep bow. He was not entirely devoid of manners.

“And soon to be noted, despite previous sentiment to the contrary, for a marked hatred of the limerick, so Lord Rochester needn’t begin to source a steady supply of opium.” James barked a merry laugh. “Although I will gladly accept all present barbs. ‘Tis in the Irish spirit to become a martyr…yet my foes must learn to work, ah, harder…”

Something of a theme was beginning to develop. Perhaps a predictable one, given the character of the group.

Laughing again as Sedley protested the development of a poetry contest, the Irishman nodded emphatically. “…and there I will cut it short, being in favor as I am of more inebriation and mischief alike, as you and the lady have respectively suggested.”

Edited by James O`Neill
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Charles and Davina

 

His eyes continued to search the crowd for arrivals.  He supposed Susan Herbert would be with the Queen, so she might not arrive soon.  That was the way of the Queen's ladies.

It was, instead, a former Queen's lady that approached him.  He had last seen her at the Tower of London, a prisoner.  It was the result of some sort of mistake as far as he could tell.  It was one that he did not have the power to correct.  They had not exchanged letters during the recess.  This was, in part, because he had been busy with his own challenges.  The other part was that Davina was under suspicion of treason.  It was best not to communicate in writing for fear of intercept.

"Do not be alarmed for I am no ghost come to haunt."

"My lady," he replied with a friendly greeting.  "You are looking well."  She did appear a bit too gaunt, but he would not note it aloud.  "I would never fear your arrival," he jested to her ghost reference.  There was a ghost story or two to tell her, but not unasked. "How did you spend your recess?  Well I hope."

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Charles and Davina

His greeting and welcome were friendly and even his jest about ghosts which prompted her to ask

"Then who's do you fear I wonder? Perhaps you have even seen one ........ it's entirely possible given the places we all inhabit."

She teased but yet there were tales of such things and she had on several occasions at Whitehall was made to feel like she was being watched. And of course The Tower had provided her with enough nightmares to last a lifetime.

"Ah Recess. I stayed in London at Baintree's then to Matching for the Summer. I was alone there save for Poppy. I spent time riding and other things."

"My brother was in Norfolk all the while and he married the Duke's daughter last month. I expect they will soon arrive in London and so I shall be looking for a new place in which to live."

"It would be most awkward for me to remain - two women under one roof not that I would interfere for tis her house now."

She did not mention not returning to Whitehall and her rooms there but he might well be able to discern that that was no longer an option.

My how general their conversation was. He acted as if nothing had happened to her or as if he even remembered all that she has told him as well as his offer to help.

"And you? Did you go Home as well?"

She took his lead and would keep their talk to nothings unless he changed it.

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Chatham stalking in

Charles strolled into the reception, absently running his gaze over the assembled crowd. Wodehouse, Charles knew, had hoped that a return to court would ameliorate his master's mood and return him to a more human state. He knew, too, that it was a vain hope. The glorious vivid clarity that each sense seemed to have acquired, the wonderful glacial coldness that wreathed him and distanced him from mortal frailty, beating a counterpoint to the almost painful bottled lightning trapped and surging under his skin, and the frustrated vitriol eating away at restraints and masks both, threatening to leave only bare, sharp metal to face the world— this was a killing mood Charles was in, and, if he could put it aside for an hour or two, it could be ended only by blood on the floor.

And therein lies the rub. Whose blood?

A question he could not yet answer. Worse, one whose answer likely lay behind several other questions he could not answer either, or had not thought to ask. That did not stop him from scanning the room, in hopes of a flash of brilliant inspiration or that the one he sought might suddenly sprout the mark of Cain under his scrutiny.

The corner of his mouth curved up a little in a bitter smirk for just a moment before he smoothed his face. His lack of mental equilibrium was probably obvious enough to any familiar or skilled observer without such displays. His nigh-monomaniacal focus the last few months had left its marks. He had lost spare flesh he had not really had to start with, leaving his cheekbones looking as though they were about to slice through the skin of his face, and his solitary eye shone with a fey light, hard and piercing as a lance point. He had not helped this, he knew, by breaking with his usual custom of wearing his hair loose. He had gathered and queued it at the nape of his neck, leaving the severe lines of his features exposed, as he did when he knew he was going to fight.

He had dressed somewhat mutedly, in half-mourning he thought the term was. (Charles had never thought to mourn anyone. His friends, perhaps, but he had always thought that he would be the first to die.) Green justacorps over lavender waistcoat and breeches, with stockings and eye patch matched to his coat. He might have looked something of a crow, but that fit his mood to be frank.

He paused for a moment, considered the fact that he had barely eaten that day, and took a glass of wine from a passing servant anyway.

 

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