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Opening Reception


Prince Rupert
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Basildon Approaches Bucky and Nicci

If you speak the Devil's name, old wives will tell you that he might appear.  Indeed, as if feeling his name used, Louis glided into the presence of the grand Duke and his cousin.  It had been months since they had been together and duty required that he approach them first.

His coat was of burgundy velvet.  His brocade was of dancing golden thread.  His waistcoat was a dark purple with brass buttons and golden thread of leaves falling.  The sunlight caught the sapphire at his throat, to match his blue eyes, and the many gems on his rings cause a rainbow prism of refraction to dance upon him.

With a bow, he made his approach. "Your Grace, dear cousin, I find you each in splendid company and radiating grandeur that pales the others before you," he offered with a knowing smile.  "I do hope you both made the most of the recess to cause mischief to the deserving."

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Davina and Young Stafford

It seemed that this Henry did not know about her brother and herself 'switching over' to the acceptable religion or if he did he had no qualms to speak so openly about his own Loyalty in this place.

So now there were three sisters that were to be given over to The Church. While Davina herself was still a true Believer she had had to do as she was told and submit at least in Public if she wanted to keep the Status Quo. But in the end she had involved herself into a scheme that had no clear ending and one that could well see her own forfeit.

"Well much time has gone by as you say so I can only hope that whatever the relationship is between all of you has improved. Will they stay in England or be sent elsewhere?"

She could not help the question for it was a big deal within Catholic Families and to have three daughters so devoted to give up the outside life for a secular one was not an everyday occurrence.

"I hope that they shall all be well."

"So you represent your Father here then? Ingratiate? What an odd choice of words. And what are you looking for?"

She asked in some amusement. 

"If you seek royal favor and high office then Court is the place to be. It is the center of affairs and it all revolves around one man - The King. It is only thru Him that one can acquire power, honors, and patronage. But is also not a place for the weak-minded. In fact, anyone who is smartly dressed, appears to have some legitimate business, or has the cash for bribes can gain entry to Court. And that makes for many that have no right to be here. The trick is sorting them out and knowing which way the wind blows at every moment."

Her words were not to be a lecture but rather an honest statement of how it was.

"Baintree  ....."

She gave a small shrug of one shoulder.

"I imagine he is still in Norfolk although they are already a month married. Yes. Catherine. I do not really know her save for the few time we have met."

No indication that there was a rift between the siblings would be shown and her indifference would not be seen as odd as a sister to an older brother.

"And just who do you have an interest in? Shall I point out those gathered so you can decide your direction?"

She teased but was also curious as to what this cousin of hers was like.

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Cordelia and Henry finding a place where they cannot be overheard…

“No, the loss of weight is not due to illness, although podagra did afflict me. But I must confess that shedding a stone of weight made me feel much, much better”. Henry smiled. Cordelia worrying about his health was endearing. “As for family memories, servants were dutiful and saved most. A few paintings will smell of smoke for a few decades, but that was it”. Which reminds me, I need to have my portrait painted.

Henry offered his arm to Lady Lucas and walked towards a spot where they could see and be seen, but out of earshot. The man of science was as paranoid as his friend Newton. Once there…

OOC: moving to a side thread but staying where the action is.

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Rupert and Kingston

"Sunderland showed me a letter indicating to expect an emissary from the Tsar.  The Russians have been at war with the Swedes, who are allied with the French.  Perhaps they see us as allies in their Baltic wars," he observed casually, not thinking the speculation to be much of a royal secret.

"He was supposed to have arrived at Windsor a fortnight ago."  It was not unusual for vessels to be delayed by weather or pirates.  "Let us pray that he speaks English or German well enough.  He also may assist certain Englishmen looking to establish a Baltic trading company."  Rupert knew that would interest Kingston, and the Prince had his own hand in the Hudson Bay Company, so he was no stranger to such ventures.

 

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Darlene and Elizabeth

The words about the late Duke were reassuring.  Darlene made it seem so sensible that her grandfather would look after her. Had he not bequeathed her his small house in Picadilly?  "Yes, of course."

There was talk of the seance.  "The Cambray lady is from Jamaica?  She would be good," she agreed.  "I have not met her but am told that she sports with the King and Baptist May.  No one pregnant may attend." She was stern about the latter.  At present, Elizabeth disliked any lady that was pregnant other than herself.  "The spirits are known to abort children," she whispered, trying to explain herself.  

"Davina Wellsley?  She is a Catholic spy!  Christopher confided that to me."  Elizabeth disliked Catholics.  Was she not a Lady of Saint George?  "She will not do.  We need only Protestants."  She paused a bit.  "We could have men, but only those open to the spiritual world.  We cannot tolerate scoffs or pastors.  They patronize us.  George Hardwick is a man known to Count Forensi.  We could invite him.  I am told he is not a Catholic ... at least anymore.  My father thinks he might be a match for my sister Frances," she added with a whisper.  "The spirits will tell me whether he is worthy."  Her brow furrowed.  "We could use a Scot I suppose, in case there is a Scottish ghost afoot.  But we only need five for the circle."

The topic changed to her husband.  "Darlene," she began with an earnest look, "you cannot be my friend and lie to me.  I see how Christopher looks at you, and other ladies.  He does little to hide it.  He stares at you when he thinks you are not looking and forgets I have eyes of my own.  He buys small paintings and figurines of naked women and professes a love of art," she whispered behind her fan.  "I know better.  I also trust that you will not encourage him, as you are my friend." 

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Davina and Young Stafford

It was clear that Henry thought her and her brother still Catholic.  It seemed he had much to learn at court.

"They are all fine," he meant of his sisters.  "Two are in France and one is in the Papal States now."

"I suppose meeting the King would be a good thing," he answered playfully.  "Though I suppose I should need to ingratiate myself with the Duke and Duchess of York."  The reason was obvious.  "What other good Catholic lords are likely here?" he asked as his eyes surveyed the crowd.  "Bristol or Peterborough perhaps?"

"Oh, and what of the Queen?  What is she like.  Did I hear correctly that you serve her?"

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 Sophia and Sarah

 

Sophia did not say anything about Sarah’s story because she couldn’t think of anything to say other than ‘I see,’ or ‘oh.” Neither answer would have been any better than silence, in her opinion.

 

Sarah apparently knew what a goose turd looked like. The heavily-pregnant Countess had never seen one herself. There had been geese in the village close to her family’s castle, but she had never thought to look at their turds. “Maybe that gentleman doesn’t have very much money. I imagine that fabric in that shade is cheap.

 

“Have you heard of ‘Dead Spaniard?' My maidservant told me about it. She says it is a grayish greenish brown but I have never seen it.” Sophia figured that it was one of those dull colors worn only by commoners.


“Yes, I know both ladies. I waved to them so there is no need to send a note. If they wish to speak to me, they know where I am.” She watched as Darlene and Davina parted and she was disappointed that neither of them approached her but chose to converse with other courtiers instead.

 

“I will be fine on my own if you need to leave.” She smiled when Sarah mentioned her mistress. “I hope the Duchess is well. I remember well the conversation I had with her last Christmas. I wish I could have another audience with her."

Edited by Sophia de la Cerda
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Charles and Henrietta, with Henry leaving

 

Henrietta listened intently to the exchange between Lord Grey and Lord Chatham, but she did not interrupt until he mentioned making his telescopes available for courtiers to use. “That sounds exciting,” she enthused. “You can be sure I will be first in line.” She grinned at the one-eyed Earl. “Unless Lord Chatham can run faster than I.”

 

She doubted if he would be able to set up telescopes tonight so that they could look through them on the New Moon. Maybe there would be another before the season ended. Henrietta had no idea how frequent they were, but as soon as she was able to get to the library, she planned on finding out … that is, if they had any books on astronomy.

 

Lord Grey saw somebody he wished to speak to and excused himself. Henrietta curtsied to him and bid him farewell. Alone again with her Charles, she looked up at him. “He didn’t stay long,” she commented. “I hope he didn’t think we smelled.” It was, perhaps, a feeble attempt at a joke, but it was an attempt. The young lady was trying to improve her wit, which she had never cared about before. If she was going to host salons, she needed to learn.

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Douglas and Bridget

 

“I will look forward to it,” Bridget said of the introduction Lord Dundarg promised her. Even if Lady Alyth did not want to teach her more about bow-hunting, she was definitely worth getting to know. While she had been ostracized because of her father’s actions, she had also expanded her horizons by socializing with those she would have ignored in the past. She couldn’t believe that at one time she believed that Lord Dundarg was beneath her notice. He was both handsome and fascinating, and the pleasant sensations he evoked in her were delightful.

 

Bridget knew little of her Scottish side. She liked their historical views on women. The English would be appalled at wives defending their lands while their husbands were away. Highborn English ladies were expected to do nothing but run their households, raise their children, and do endless needlework. Some of them stayed on their husband’s estates and never came to court at all. How very boring that must be.

 

She nodded. “Very true. Some people disapprove of silly things. It’s as if they stuff themselves into a little box and believe that anything outside of it is wrong. I really think I would be able to hunt better if I learned how to shoot and will be grateful for any lessons you can give me.”

 

He suggested that she choose which dance to share at the next ball. “Very well.” She grinned mischievously. “It will be a surprise.” Hopefully, by the time a ball was held, they would know each other better. Bridget definitely wanted to spend more time with him. He was appealing to her in many ways.

 

“Are you free on Saturday afternoon?” That day seemed as good as any to go exploring, and would give them all time to prepare for it.  "Perhaps we can have a picnic too."

 

As for her brother: “I am not certain. I have had no contact with him during recess. He did not stay with us and I have no idea where he is. I guess it is possible that he might show up. Are you acquainted with him?” Bridget could not remember seeing the two of them together.

 

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Cordelia and Mountjoy leaving Cat and Fiona

 

Fiona didn’t think that Douglas needed a wife unless he found one who didn’t care that he had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. She didn’t want him to spend his life in misery with a lady who despised him for his baseborn status. The blonde he was currently speaking to looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite put a name to the face. Not yet anyway.

 

Lady Lucas excused herself and Lord Mountjoy wondered whether she would be looking for a spouse for either Douglas or herself. Forgetting her demure act for a moment, she wrinkled her nose. The lady would probably try to pair her to some younger son who wanted a title. However, if she knew of any Dukes who were looking for wives …

 

Cat was ready to go as well. She did look quite tired. The journey had been long and boring but Fiona was still full of energy. Lord Mountjoy bid them farewell and kissed her hand. His parting words thrilled her. It was really too bad that he was married. “We shall meet again, I am sure, my lord,” she said, trying her best to look bashful.

 

Soon she was alone again with her sister. “May I stay, Cat?” she asked. “Dougie can protect me and see me home safely.”

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Douglas and Bridget

He did have a thing for blondes and redheads, it was true. It wasn't that Douglas avoided women who looked like his sisters so much as he avoided women who looked like their mother, which admittedly amounted to the same thing. To a little boy who'd been desperate for a mother figure to replace the mother he'd never known, Siobhan MacBain had been an absolute cow. She was a major part of the reason he'd started skipping out on his lessons when he was older, escaping the estate to hang out with the local lads, and then enlisted in the Regiment du Dumbarton as soon as he was able. Despite her dislike of him, she'd been a major formative influence, just not in a good way. So he tended to avoid brunettes and women who were classically beautiful, though it was an unconscious instinct and not a hard and fast rule; there had been exceptions. 

Rather Douglas enjoyed women who were interesting, confident and independently minded. Bridget seemed to be becoming all three, as she agreed with his sentiment on the judgemental types at court. "Best tae leave thaim in their little box," he concurred, using her metaphor, "an' make the most o' aw else."* Opportunities lay waiting for those who weren't too stuck up to take them, he'd decided. After all, the King himself not only spoke to Douglas, but had granted him a Barony and made him Lord Lieutenant of Aberdeen. If he was good enough for His Majesty, he should be good enough for anyone. He hoped that people would take Bridget on her own merits too, rather than constantly cast her under the shadow of her father. 

She certainly seemed keen to learn to use a firearm. "D'ye think yer sister an' yer cousin wuid be int'rested? I cuid bring some pistols on oor adventure." He offered. It would be an introductory lesson only, of course. But if the other girls disapproved and tattled on Bridget, that could be the end of both lessons and adventures for them. "Else I weel find a guid place fer us tae practice." He couldn't exactly take her down to the Life Guard's firing range. But surely there'd be somewhere suitable if he looked around. "Saturday efternuin I'm aw yers."** He was actually quite looking forward to it.

"I dinnae ken yer brothair, though I'd like to meet him." He admitted. "He cammed to mind as abody else wha micht be guid tae bring on oor adventure, fer both safety an' propriety."*** Douglas said honestly. Another male, and a relative, protection for both the ladies and their reputations. But if Bridget hadn't heard from him, perhaps he wasn't coming to court much these days, which was disappointing. 

He was enjoying the conversation very much, but it occured to Douglas that monopolising Bridget wouldn't do her any favours, and there were other people he wanted to talk to as well. He looked about. Cat looked to be leaving though Fiona was trailing behind, probably wanting to stay. He also wanted to speak to Darlene, it was hardly her fault that he and her sister-in-law had been star-crossed lovers, and she seemed like fun company, though she was currently speaking with the Duchess of Ablemarle. Langdon had disappeared, but he spotted Basildon speaking with Buckingham, and who did the Duke have on his arm, decked out in finery, but Nicolette? Well well well, the French girl who'd come to court with virtually nothing had done very well for herself indeed! The big Scotsman felt quite cheered by the sight. And perhaps this was an opportunity. 

"Shall we see if yer cousin wants greetin'?"+ He asked lightly, nodding in the direction of the trio. Of course they wouldn't barge in, but each had a link to the group. In fact Douglas had two, for as well as knowing Nicci - they'd even considered a relationship, though he'd not been able to keep her in the manner to which she should become accustomed - last time he'd been at Windsor, he'd taken a troop of Life Guards and captured a band of bandits, retrieving the stolen belongings of Buckingham's previous mistress, the little Welsh girl called Gwen. He wondered for a moment what had happened to her. Whatever it was, it had left a space open for Nicci, and hopefully no room for other women, though the opportunity to introduce Bridget to Buckingham wasn't one he'd pass up. 

Subtitles
* "Best to leave them in their little box, and make the most of everything else."
** "Do you think your sister and your cousin would be interested? I could bring some pistols on our adventure. Else I will find a good place for us to practice. Saturday afternoon I'm all yours."
*** "I don't know your brother, though I'd like to meet him. He came to mind as somebody else who might be good to bring on our adventure, for both safety and propriety."
+ "Shall we see if your cousin wants greeting?"

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Darlene and Elizabeth

Anne Elizabeth met with approval, but Davina did not – and with a bit of gossip besides. “But she is raised to a position of Lady of the Gardens here in Windsor..?” Darlene was confused to add, and looked to the Duchess for an explanation.

“I am happy to exclude her though, if you do not invite your sister Frances.  She upset me so horridly last season, even if her words were only truth.” She bartered. 

Meanwhile both agreed that the pregnant Lady Toledo should be kept away, “... spirits might also possess the growing babe.” Darlene added her own concern.

Elizabeth suggested George Hardwick, to whom Darlene could neither support nor reject, and then Douglas was suggested.  “His eyes are such a blue.” Darlene commented, “he might possess a greater than normal sight.”  Which was a vote for his attendance (especially if he replaced Frances C).

The next topic was nearer to the heart. “Does he, I did not realise.” Had the Duke paid ladies attention but in secret? That made Darlene feel a bit better, but then also – “I would never encourage him darling.” She promised to stop! “But… what can be done of this, I am sure there is a remedy if we think cleverly.”

“Perhaps he craves forbidden fruit, in which case, we need paint you with that exotic brush.  Weave an enchantment around you that will awaken his passion anew. All is not lost my dear Duchess, if you are game, I shall do all I can to help.”

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Davina and Young Stafford

Davina was quick to 'hush' him.

"Temper yourself. Have you no sense of Place? We can easily be overheard."

She glanced about them but no one seemed to be paying any attention.

"How can you speak openly on a subject that is not Safe? Do you not understand how being a Catholic in England now is not popular nor is it wise to advertise."

"How did your Father NOT caution you before letting you lose? No you nothing about Court and the current moods?"

She looked at him with something akin to disbelief especially as he was a man grown not some young boy.

"You want to meet the King then keep up your foolish behavior and that might happen but not in a way favorable. Politics are always at play here Henry and if your father has instructed you to seek out York then you must do so quietly with as little attention as possible. The Duke is watched naturally and anyone He or the Duchess meets is reported on. And as for those "Good Catholic Lords" some have already taken up the Church of England in Public so that they can retain their estates and positions The Mighty Norfolk is one. Others have taken to marrying sons or daughters into non-catholic families to cement good relationships and keep on the King's good side."

She did not include her brother's name or herself.

"Her Majesty is well after there birth of the Prince. And yes I do. Did. Maid of Honor. But now I have another title and I am under the protection of His Highness Prince Rupert, the Duke of Cumberland. I am no longer in Her Majesty's household."

She offered him no explanation nor would she if he pressed for one.

"And in your looking about this space do you see any that you know or wish to? If so tell me and I shall say what I know."

"But I beg you to use some discretion."

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Sophia and Sarah

"Dead Spaniard? Well the only Spaniard I have seen is your husband and it hardly applies as his quality of dress speaks for itself."

If Sarah found it odd that neither of the Ladies ventured forth to where they sat she did not voice it.

"Well I am not at all comfortable leaving you alone. What if something happened?"

"Perhaps you might have the opportunity again once your child is born. I shall speak of it to her if you wish."

"Have you everything made ready for the child? I hope you have a good midwife and a maid or two of your own to help if needed - but you must select older women for childbirth is something that young girls should not see."

She said in all her wisdom of that subject.

"Has Lord Toledo said he wished for a Spanish name to be given or even a Family name? I would find it hard to have to pick a foreign name or not allowed to pick from my own side."

She would stay and keep the conversation for as long as Sophia wished to remain. But she was sure that the other was growing tired of just sitting or maybe she wished to walk about or have a servant fetch her husband ......

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Darlene and Elizabeth Monck

"She is being watched," the Duchess whispered. "Best not be seen with her," she advised with no further details.  It was not safe to speak further.

"What did Frances do to you?  She is too critical and should be more quiet."  Elizabeth waited to hear how her sister had offended Darlene.  She had hoped that Frances would take an interest in the spirit world, but she had resisted.

As for Douglas, she had not intended him in particular.  "You mean that lanky Scot that works for Christopher?"  Her eyes searched him out.  "Are we sure we want a Life Guard?  We are each vexed by one."

Darlene's talk of enticing the Duke to be sexually attracted to her caused her to blush for a moment.  "Do not be silly Darlene," she scolded.  This was not the place to discuss such things.

"This dice game, who might we invite?  Frances is out.  Protestants only.  No foreigners.  Your brother needs to come to court so that Gracie can attend our parties.  I suppose we can invite the debutantes this season.  My sister Margaret would like to come.  There is that Scottish Lady Alyth and her girls.  What do you know of them?  There is Lady Beverley and Lady Basildon," she offered as well.

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Davina and Young Stafford

"It is bad as that here at court?" He inquired softly.  "It is the mob that is intolerant, but I am told that the court is tolerant."  He sighed as he looked around.

"How can attempting to enter York's service be seen as anything bad?  My family are all Catholics and we do not hide it.  Associating with other Catholics shouldn't make it worse."  He found himself frowning.

"Then we should meet privately later to discuss such things.  Maybe on the battlements this evening?  Or have you a better idea?"

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She was late. Not fashionably, acceptably or even forgivably; just late. The coach had broken it's axle and she'd been forced to stay at an inn overnight whilst it was repaired, arriving at Windsor this morning instead of the previous night as she'd planned. It wasn't a heartening start to her first season at court, but Eleanor was determined not to see it as portentous; sometimes these things simply happened. She'd found her lodgings, a single room all the way up on the fourth floor, but her youthful legs could manage it well enough and it was hers and she was in the castle, which was a thrill all of it's own.

Once her things had been brought up she'd quickly set to fixing her makeup - light, demure but with a careful layer of paint over the port wine stain on her right ear, neck and part of her cheek - whilst Mary fixed her brown hair into artful curls, secured with pins, a few curled locks hanging fetchingly over the right side of her face. She'd struggled as quickly as she could into her underskirt and stomacher of cream silk, which she'd carefully hand embroidered with trails of forget-me-nots and violets, over which went a silk brocade mantua in a delicate sky blue that matched her eyes, accented with royal blue ribbons. The neckline was polite and made more modest by a broad frill of white lace, the same as which fell from the cuffs at her elbows. The chains at her neck and wrist were hand wired, each link alternating between an enamelled violet and a small pearl, all set in silver. From each ear hung another enamelled violet, with a pearl suspended beneath, and the same from the pins in her hair. The overall effect was of demure quality rather than excessive ostentation; at least that was the intent.

As she entered the upper ward she paused, fluttering her fan of white ostrich feathers which she'd ornamented with royal blue ribbons to match those on her dress, whilst she surveyed the scene, and momentarily wondered whether she'd under-dressed. She didn't think so, but out there were Dukes and Dutcheses here, and Royalty, and many were far more fancily dressed than herself. The thought made her stomach flutter nervously. But she was from a match of proud families, her father Viscount Bayning had married Alice Grey from that extensive family, and she was determined to do her parents proud. The phrase 'fake it till you make it' wouldn't be coined for some centuries yet, but this was what the young lady was determined to do, so she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and stepped out as regally as she could manage amongst the circulating courtiers. 

There were so many, none of whom she knew, and whilst some were understated others were dressed most boldly. She saw velvet and tafetta, racy red heels and lace cravats one could hide a currant bun in. She swore one woman was decked out in a full parure of rubies and diamonds! There were dashing uniforms and elegant justacorps, and some wore lace made of gold thread! Don't stare, don't stare. She'd never seen anything like it, not even at their estate gatherings, but Eleanor knew in that moment that she would have to get used to it. Breathe. She could do this. She had to do this. Accepting a glass of wine from a tray she sipped it genteely, using it and her fan as cover as she glanced about, searching for the one face in this crowd that she might recognise; Henry Grey, Baron Grey of Codnor Castle. A distant cousin of her mother, Eleanor would admit that she barely remembered him, having met him only a few times at Grey family gatherings over the years. He was the same age as her father and, she vaguely recalled, highly academic, which translated as 'boring' to a child. Just as he'd likely paid very little attention to yet one more of the hoard of small and slightly annoying Grey spawn playing about the place whilst the adults talked of serious things. Her mother had written to him of course, and Eleanor had been supposed to contact him when she arrived last evening, but that had all gone by the wayside when the coach had broken it's axle. She could only hope she'd recognise him now. 

She walked slowly, glass in one hand and lazily waving fan in the other, doing her best to present the picture of a confident and nonchalant young lady, whilst noting those around her and hoping that one of them might be Lord Grey. She would have to put names to faces as quickly as possible. Gosh but didn't some of them look fine! She'd like to look that fine. Perhaps one day. Right now she had only the allowance her father provided, but one day she would have a husband. Seeing all the jewels and pearls and lace, she mused that it would be rather fine to have a husband with money. 

Suddenly a face caught her eye. There, not in the main crowd but off to one side. Was that him? It had to be surely, he was about the right age and had the Grey nose, and was the only person she felt she even vaguely recognised. He was well turned out in a dark purple set in the latest fashion, and she noticed the cane. Necessity or affectation? Regardless he was deep in conversation with an older lady in a fetching blue gown whose fabric seemed to shimmer red as she moved. Oooh, that was a lovely effect. The two had presumably taken themselves off to the side deliberately, and regardless she would never be so uncouth as to interrupt the conversation of her seniors. So Eleanor positioned herself strategically where she could see Lord Grey - and be seen by him, should he glance in her direction - but not intrude, and continued to watch the crowds over her fan, trying not to gawk, and observing who spoke with whom. 

 

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Charles and Henrietta, with Henry leaving

"Mens sana in corpore sano," Charles quoted, smiling. "It is good to hear that you have made progress. Your project interests me deeply, unfit though I am to undertake it myself."

Charles did not know what precisely 'chromatic aberration' was, but he could infer it that it had something to do with colour. Perhaps colours blurred together and distorted the image, or the colours seen were not the colours that actually existed? He could see how an astronomer would find that unwelcome.

This talk of actually using the telescopes was interesting, too. He thought he would rather enjoy catching sight of Saturn's rings.

And I might even learn first hand what chromatic aberration is.

"I can be very quick off the mark," he mused with mock solemnity, answering Henrietta's grin in kind, "but I think courtesy would demand I yield. Besides, there are those of greater precedence — and longer legs — than I, who I expect would greatly enjoy the opportunity."

He nodded his head again as Henry took his leave, and then almost choked on his laughter at Henrietta's joke. It was entirely unexpected and all the funnier for it, whatever its quality.

"Well, I can assure you that you do not smell, and, given that my manservant would shoot me rather than let me attend smelling of anything other than citrus and sandalwood, I can assume that I do not either," he said once he had recovered, grinning boyishly. Henrietta had come a long way, to be comfortable enough to joke in his presence, and he was very pleased, both for her and her progress and with himself for smoothing over the rocky start of their relationship. 

"No, I imagine the baron left on some urgent errand," he went on, eye twinkling. "It must be a matter of some importance, for as an astronomer he is bound to be as much an admirer of Selene as I am."

That was still as terrible a joke as when it had first occurred to him, but frankly he found it too amusing to keep to himself.

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Davina and Young Stafford

It would seem that he was taking her warnings to heart but then the idea came to her as he suggested meeting again someplace else - privately.

was there another motive behind this timely arrival?  too many years since we last met yet he KNEW that I was here  .... he never answered about his father speaking to him off the current political moods regarding catholics either ..... his father is not so isolated that he would not be without those that send information or even visit so his play at ignorance is suspicious ....... or is he, like me, one of those in the employment of another  ......

She gave a smile smile as she answered him back.

"There is no harm it could be said yet in the current circumstances not many will risk a misunderstanding."

"Even you can understand that I am sure."

"If you wish to exchange 'family' news then that can be done in the open why the need for secrets?"

"If you wish to have less of an audience let us meet on the morrow - perhaps the gardens on the East Terrace?"

"I am recovering still from a minor inconvenience so the night air is not favorable and I wish not to take a chill."

"Will that do?"

She would test him in as many ways as she could. Either he was an innocent or he was up to something that was like as not to her favor. Sent by someone on the same side as she or whoever ruled that other side.

Even if she was being overly cautious it made no difference as long as she got to the bottom of it.

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Time to play the villain

 

Cat hadn't been lying about being tired.  She was tired of also having to take the villain role when it came to her eldest younger sibling.  It took every last fiber of strength she had not to sigh in frustration.  Keeping her voice low so only Fiona should be able to hear her, she said, "Douglas is unaware of the situation and thus would not be as on guard for your safety as may be needed.  Until he is aware of the danger, I do not feel comfortable with leaving you unguarded."  Total truth.  Yes, they were in the palace in a room filled with nobles and securely guarded.  But who was to say that one of the nobles or guards weren't the one threatening her sister?  She knew first hand that being born with a title did not make one any more trustworthy than someone without.  Just look at their brother.  

 

"I know that wasn't the answer you wanted, but I have little doubt we shall see Douglas again before the day is out, if not early tomorrow morning.  Has he ever missed a chance for a meal?"  Taking Fiona's hand to give it a squeeze, she added, "Please?"

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John Sends a Message With a Servant Approaching Anne Elizabeth

He had supported the wall long enough and was still sober to understand that The Lady was not going to come to his side as he'd hoped. Watching her laugh and flirt with those other men had struck a cord and frustration began to build. His need to possess her was strong yet he knew that such behavior here was the surest way to be on the next ship back to the Colonies. But what could he do  .......

His blue eyes narrowed and a slow grin formed and he caught the sleeve of a passing servant who nodded and then led away in the other direction to an arched doorway that led him into an alcove. A door was opened and John ushered inside and then he was left alone. He stood still eyes adjusting to the filtered light from the window. It was arranged like a small sitting area with chairs a few tables and a desk of middle size. An office perhaps? But it contained what he had asked for - paper and ink and wax. He sat and then reached for a sheet of paper and opened the ink pot peering inside to see if it was dry or not. Satisfied he dipped the quill and bent over to write 

Quote

I am returned and go in search of you yet find that you are the center of attentions. follow the servant that delivers this and come to me. how is the cat? 

 

He did not dawdle over but sanded it then folded it pausing to add a few drips of hot wax then used his thumb to seal it. Rising he went to the door where the same servant waited. He handed his note and then with one hand on the others shoulder went far enough out that he could point out the Lady it was to be delivered to. He was also told to wait and if the Lady accepted then he was to bring her back to him in that same room where he would be waiting. He was to return with the Lady or without if he wanted his coin.

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(apologies, I am not a smart person and completely lost track of the posting order!)

The Merry Gang

A smile that was equal parts amused and bemused brought along with it a youthful dimple as the earl echoed his (entirely truthful, metrically) metaphor on patience, James noting the vague sensation of eyes on him. Curious, that. But not undeserved.

It would not do, at this point, to reiterate the manner in which James thought he was deserving of attention from London's literary giants.

But soon enough Anne-Elisabeth fired back with another volley of limericks, and a game began to be afoot. “I thought the understanding was that we were supposed to be in alliance, my lady,” James muttered in faux-indignation, glimmer in his eyes belying his amusement. “And yet the host of limericks at the gates, brutal as Mongols they, gives the truth to your treachery. I fear the Greeks bringing verse.”

As the details of Rochester’s proposition were made clear, the young Irishman gave consideration to what he knew of Pembroke – some sort of Villiers relation, he was fairly certain, clearly given to violence, and of the sort that made ample fodder for rumors. Easy enough for a talented poet to lampoon, but James did not prefer things easy. He would excel here, even if it cost a week’s worth of sleep to do so.

“Mm,” James contemplated, although he’d made up his mind nigh-before the earl had even made the offer. He was thinking not of lions, but of weaker, meeker things, a tragicomic’s fare…like il Capitano. Lord Bellavista, perhaps, to borrow that style. “My last piece in this vein was an exultation, not an attack, but all civilized, thinking men – and women,” he added, glancing at Lady Cambray. “Ought to immediately take up arms against brutes, be they limericks or lions.” Another throaty laugh.

“I’ll take up this challenge, my lord.” He nodded once for emphasis. “I’ve no doubt that the man seems a hero in his own mind, and all such heroes merit lengthy odes, no?” Heroism… Already, he was considering what meter and rhyme scheme would best suit a mocking tale.

His eyes, meanwhile, had drifted elsewhere in the crowd, observing. James' duties were not exclusively poetic.

Edited by James O`Neill
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Mountjoy moving on and approaching Eleanor

 

Beverly and Mortimer were engrossed in conversation so as no inducement was forthcoming Blount moved on leaving the two gentlemen to continue their conversation. He took a turn about the room before deciding to peruse the refreshment table to see if there were any delectables that took his fancy but in so doing became aware of the latest addition to the assembly.

He was not acquainted with everyone at court but he at least knew the regular courtiers by sight and when his eyes swept over Eleanor Bayning he decerned that he had not seen that woman at court before and thus studied her more closely. She was young with pleasing looks but her mannerisms betrayed novelty and her dress lacked the certain opulence of those more accustomed to court functions. Not that there was anything wrong with her mannerisms, she was carrying herself quite well and he smiled as he recalled his first time at court trying not to stare at all the unfamiliar sights. Her dress was also quite respectable, charming even in its thematic consistency fitting well the look of the mistress but lacking the superficial display of a jaded courtier. He would characterize her ensemble as demure quality rather than excessive ostentation and wondered if that was the look she was going for as that look was something rare at court. He decided to forgo the anticipated refreshment and approach the Lady in question.  

“Good afternoon Mademoiselle.” He said to Eleanor, she being if an age that the assumption that she would not be married was an acceptable one. “I could not help but notice that we gentleman have been so foolish as to leave such a charming looking woman unattended and I thought that I would remedy that oversight and introduce myself in the hope that you would find such an intrusion an amenable one.” He bowed his head. “I am Lord Mountjoy, at your service. Would it be erroneous of me to assume that this is the first time you have attended a court function? I make such an assertion because I would find it impossible for you not to be remembered if it were not so.”

It was a bit improper for a gentleman to introduce himself to a lady but at these types of functions the rules were relaxed.

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Douglas and Bridget

 

Bridget nodded. Not too long ago, she had lived in her own little box, formed by the restrictions and conventions that she had believed were proper. She was glad that she had finally stepped outside that box and into the world of opportunities awaiting her. Becoming acquainted with the tall and fascinating Scot was one of benefits of her new outlook on life. “I fully intend to make the most of everything,” she replied with a coquettish grin.

 

Her expression became thoughtful. “I don’t know if they would be interested or not.” Maybe Arabella hunted with a bow because her father disapproved of ladies using pistols. Her sister Sophia tended to speak before she thought and might tell on her unintentionally. It was better not to involve them. “It’s probably better not to take the risk.” Besides, she wanted to be alone with Lord Dundarg, or as as alone as she could be with a chaperon in tow.

 

“Excellent!” Bridget smiled brightly. It wasn’t difficult to tell that she, too, was looking forward to their adventure. “Where shall we meet? My sisters and I are staying in a house in town and our cook can prepare a meal for our picnic.”

 

She followed Douglas’ gaze over to the trio he suggested that they greet and her eyes widened when she beheld the handsome figure of Lord Basildon. As he had not answered the polite request for a meeting that she had sent him, she had believed that he might not attend court. Had he ignored her or had he not received her missive? She supposed that bringing herself to his attention would at least let him know she was here. The other two members of the group were his cousin, rumored to be the King’s newest mistress, and …

 

The blood drained from Bridget’s face and she took a step back. “No,” she whispered. “Lord Buckingham hates my father. He would not approve of me being at court and will probably have me thrown out if I dare to speak to him. If he has noticed us talking together, he might not be kind to you either.”

 

She hoped that her father's status as an enemy of Buckingham would not scare him away.

 

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Sophia and Sarah

 

“Black, black, and more black,” Sophia laughed. Esteban always wore black, though sometimes accented with other dark hues. She assumed that Anna had told her about ‘Dead Spaniard’ to cheer her up after that argument she’d had with her husband after the opera. And it had worked. Perhaps she should mention that color to her friend Caroline, who loathed all things Spanish.

 

“Nothing will happen,” she assured Sarah. “But I appreciate your company and your concern.” If she wanted to entertain at court, she would rather sing than give birth on the floor.

 

Another long sigh. She should have known that she would not be allowed to visit the Duchess of York in her condition, though it was possible that Italians did not share the views of the English when it came to pregnancy. Sophia had seen plenty of pregnant women on the streets of Venice, but they had all looked like commoners. She couldn’t remember any at the parties she had attended with the noble family she had lived with.

 

“I would greatly appreciate it,” she said of Sarah’s offer, “and if she agrees it will give me something else to look forward to after my child is born.” Esteban would probably approve of his wife spending time with a Catholic Duchess, though now that the King had an heir, York was no longer second in line to the throne. Serves him right, she thought.

 

“Yes, my lord husband has spared no expense in assuring that I have the best of care. We have not discussed names yet, but a Spanish name would make the most sense as we may eventually move to Spain. A German name would not be wise, unless it is his middle name.” Sophia planned to let Juan choose the name of his long-awaited child.

 

She was getting a bit restless and looked around the room for somebody she knew who wasn't already engaged in conversation.

 

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Mountjoy and Eleanor

She had been brought up properly, and as such Eleanor knew that it would be uncouth for her to simply walk up to someone she didn't know and introduce herself; it simply Wasn't Done. Which was perhaps a bit of a shame because the only person she knew was Lord Grey who was currently deep in conversation, and of course she couldn't interrupt him either. That would be the height of rudeness. Eleanor had been schooled from a young age to wait on the pleasure of her seniors and the men in her life generally, and so she waited, not considering it a hardship. Rather she enjoyed watching the various attendees, some as fine as peacocks, as they moved back and forth. 

One man moved closer, unaccompanied, and she took in his rich auburn periwig, red velvet coat with copious embroidery in silver and gold thread  - and such embroidery! She wanted a closer look at how it was done - the bun-hiding lace cravat with a diamond pin, touches of silk and red heels. The epitome of fashion and he moved with such regal confidence. Is that the King? She wondered in a moment of panic as the gentleman drifted closer, before calming herself with reason. Don't be a fool. The King would surely never be unaccompanied but would trail close courtiers, and the King would surely never change direction to approach her! Her fan waved faster as she sought to maintain her composure. She didn't know the man, and her mother had warned about about those Libertine types, who would take a lady's virtue and leave her with nothing; Eleanor was determined not to fall for such, but she also knew better than to assume the worst of someone without meeting them. A young lady was expected to be pleasant and pliant, after all.. 

She glanced up at him as he approached - wasn't he handsome? - then lowered her gaze demurely, turning her head to half-hide behind her fan as though a little shy, but incidentally turning her left ear towards him. All the better to hear the beautiful words that he spoke so elegantly. "Good afternoon Monsieur." She replied warmly in turn, risking another glance, then lowering her gaze and blushing as he deduced that she was new at court. "Is it so obvious? Despite my efforts to appear the bored jade?" She tittered just a little, knowing full well that she might as well have 'New to court' printed on her forehead. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Mountjoy." She assured him. "I am Eleanor Bayning; my father is Viscount Bayning of Sudbury." She executed a deep and graceful curtsey to the elegant Mountjoy as she made her introduction. She didn't yet know what type of lord he was, but you could bet she was going to find out. 

It wasn't technically proper for him to approach her without an introduction, but she was very glad that he did. Even if he did turn out to be one of those Libertines, at least she had someone to talk to for the moment. Up close the fineness of his attire and the delicacy of the embroidery on his coat was even more noticable. "I can only assume that one as exquisitely fashionable as yourself has rather more experience at court than I, my Lord." She ventured, hoping that she was not being overly bold. "May I ask who executed the beautiful embroidery on your already fine justacorps?" Presumably he ordered his clothing from some fine atalier. The floral embroidery on her stomacher and underskirt would make her own appreciation of the art obvious, and since the topic was light and pleasant and the enquiry invited the Lord to talk about himself, she judged that it was an appropriate enquiry to make. Hopefully he would humour her.

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Bridget and Douglas

It was enjoyable in a way, refreshing really, watching Bridget realise the freedoms available outside of the little box that some seemed to think it proper to exist inside. He hoped that she would find a happier existance outside of it, rather than having her life dictated by what others thought of her father. Danby didn't seem to have many friends at court, and Douglas was aware that there were those who might see that taint as spreading to any who associated with the various Osbornes, but he had decided some time ago that living according to those concerns led to only restriction and resentment, and he too had chosen to live outside the box. Perhaps one day everyone with any sense would do so, and it would be a sad and small group left in the box to themselves. One could dream. For now he could enjoy her company, and watching her growing confidence. 

As Douglas had suspected, Bridget wasn't certain about her cousin and sister's reaction to a lady learning to shoot, and thought it best not to involve them. That was why he'd asked. "Thain we shall hae a lesson, jus' the twa o' us." And her chaperone of course. "I will find a place an' let ye ken."* There had to be somewhere not too far that they could use as a practice range. Perhaps somewhere in the Great Park. He would look into it. 

He was looking forward to their adventure, as much as Bridget seemed to be. One question was where they should have it of course. "I'm thinkin' we cuid meet at the start o' the Lang Wawlk, an' foller it tae Snow Hill." That was in Windsor's Great Park, and a popular way to go on a fine day, by either horse or carriage. "Frae thair, either Herne's Oak er the Huntsman's Cottage er the mos' likely places fer adventure an' treasure seekin." He watched Bridget's expression to see what she might make of the suggestion. Both places had ancient histories and would at least make for good tales, even if they didn't find any treasure which he didn't anticipate doing. But he'd give it his best shot for them. "I'm stayin' at the Hen's Toes, but I'll bring a wee ockie fer oor picnic as weel."** He could buy a couple of bottles of wine to bring along. It was interesting to know that the Osborne girls were renting a house in town, but given Danby's disgrace, perhaps it was more comfortable for them, or perhaps they'd not received offer of accomodation in the castle. Well, plenty of them were staying in town. 

Bridget would need her own friends at court, and strengthening her connection with her cousin whilst also meeting Buckingham had seemed like a good idea to him, but the instant change in her manner made it as clear as her words that wasn't welcome. Douglas had been fairly oblivious to the pulses of politics, caught up in his own concerns, but he supposed he would have to pay more attention now that he was considering family connections. "My apologies, I didnae mean tae distress ye." He said quietly. He would hope better of Buckingham, but perhaps not expect it. Well, that was important to know. "Do ye ken the Duchess of Ablemarle, an' Lairdy Oakham?"*** He asked instead. He'd been introduced to Elizabeth once by Monck, and he knew Darlene through Heather. The latter always seemed a lively and joyous soul. The former was reputed to be a fruitcake but he didn't know her well enough to judge, and was of the opinion that anyone who had to put up with Christopher Monck on a long-term basis was allowed to be a little batty. 

His own time serving as Monck's adjutant was one of his bigger regrets of his time at court, not because he'd done it but because he hadn't realised what he'd had until he'd screwed it up. Fresh from the Regiment du Dumbarton, he'd expected Chris to behave like a proper officer in leading the Life Guards, not realising that most of the Life Guards themselves didn't take their commissions seriously. He could have run the Life Guard from that position, if he'd humoured and cosseted Monck, but instead he'd tried to teach him how to be an officer, which Chris didn't care for, and he'd lost the position. It had been a hard lesson in the workings of court. Oh well, the only thing one could do about the past was learn from one's mistakes. Perhaps Lady Ablemarle was simply as frustrated by her husband as he'd been. Either way, she could be a powerful ally for Bridget, if she took a liking to her. 

Subtitles
* "Then we shall have a lesson, just the two of us. I will find a place and let you know."
** "I'm thinking we could meet at the start of the Long Walk, and follow it to Snow Hill. From there, either Herne's Oak or the Huntsman's Cottage are the most likely places for adventure and treasure seeking. I'm staying at the Hen's Toes, but I'll bring a little something for our picnic as well."
*** "My apologies, I didn't mean to distress you. Do you know the Duchess of Ablemarle, and Lady Oakham?"

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Davina and Young Stafford

"Why the necessity for secrecy?" Henry repeated Davina's question aloud.  "Well, for one, dear cousin, you have persuaded me in the past few minutes of the necessity for it.  For icing on the cake, if I ask you about certain characters here at court, I suspect you will be guarded in telling me that they are corrupt buffoons while in mixed company.  You are right to be careful.  I was a bit free in my way in meeting kin.  I attribute that to being in the presence of such charming company.  But let us adjourn until tomorrow then.  If you think the East Terrace a private enough location, then I shall meet you there," he offered in a gentle way.

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Darlene and Elizabeth Monck

Well that was bad news, but Darlene nodded her head. “I dare say the advice is very good.” she sighed, having fleetingly housed grand plans of hijacking Davina’s new role for herself.  But perhaps she'd find a work-around...

“Your sister told me that Lord L was trying to put me in danger deliberately.” Elizabeth would know very well who Darlene’s Lord L was, though Darlene might have forgotten to tell her about the planned wharf hunt for villains. “In hindsight she might have been right, but it was unkind of her to tell me so plainly. Yes she should be more quiet, I agree.”

“I wonder if she is happy now that she is not to be married after all. She was rather miserable all about it.”

“Oh good point, and he might tell your Chris. Men had strange ideas about duty sometimes.” Darlene agreed, crossing Douglas off the mental list of seance goers.  Meanwhile, the haste in which Elizabeth repressed the conversation on alluring her husband like an exotic siren, told Darlene that she was extremely interested in the idea and wanted to explore it far more fully than was currently possible. So she nodded, and made a mental note to pick it up later on.

“Oh yes, biddable debutants is a good idea. Have you met Baroness Ballater, she is a very interesting lady and has fine taste in chocolates and wine.” On that note Darlene looked about the room, and noticed someone new arrived. 

With a discreet motion towards Eleanor “Who is the brunette in blue with Lord Mountjoy?” Not that Darlene was territorial of Charles Blount, she merely kept and eye on the man (who was smitten by her), for egos sake.

“No we cant invited Lady Aylth, she and I are at odds you see. It’s a long story.  We could ask Lady Beverly though, do you know her? I’ve not actually met her, but she must be perfectly lovely.  Oh what about that poor girl Elizabeth Dwight, if there was ever a soul needing some guidance it must be her.”  

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Beverley and Athenry

 

Beverley, though well-versed in courtiers and court life, was not the most versed the emotional realms of women. He hadn't considered that his friend's wife had been displaced from her mistress position and married off after the King remarried. That sort of thing went entirely over his head.

 

"Then perhaps going through Kingston to Lady Dorothea is a more, erm, d-delicate approach rather than to Her Majesty." He paused to reflect, blinking, trying to work out in his mind what Athenry's wife might think of the entire thing.

 

"Surely, erm, at some point...well, the Duchess must make a new life at court rather than, erm, weeping or carrying on over what was lost," he then said very quietly. "The, erm, alternative would be a sort of, well, insignificance that probably wouldn't appeal either."

 

Not that he thought the Queen would be very interested in a former mistress either, let alone a French one, but...a man was not always his wife, even if a wife was always associated with her husband.

 

"I should like to do some traveling of the continent." He smiled. "As to direct plans, not particularly. Anything in Windsor entice you?"

 

(Sorry, I missed you CB! He will have to join them or find Beverley later ;) )

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