Secret Meetings | Cat's Appt Monday Late Morning

[King Charles II]

 

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Apartment of The Duke of Buckingham (& Lord Kingston)

 

The door to the apartment opened directly into the drawing room, a long, narrow space furnished in dark woods and hung with crimson damasks and silks. The bank of windows looks out over the Long Walk and Castle Hill. To the right of the windows, on the west, is a well-lighted fireplace with a carved stone coat of arms placed into the wall directly above. There is a swath of royal blue cloth draping over the mantel, a wreathe of seasonal flowers gracing the center of the swathe. Against the opposite wall is a long table surrounded by several ornate chairs. An iron chandelier hangs from the ceiling to light the chamber at night, the light glinting off the polished wooden floors.

 

Further down the west wall are two doors leading to the apartment’s bedchambers. The first chamber is furnished richly in dark green, or varying shades of the color, with green and gold damask hangings on the mahogany bed, the verdant counterpane worked with fine gold embroidery. A tapestry depicting a boar hunt covers the door to the closet on the north wall, a fireplace crackling merrily between two generously sized windows in the south. Near this fireplace is a table and chair while an iron chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, light glinting off the polished wooden floors.

 

The second bedroom is decorated in golds, the rich earthy colors making the room feel warmer than it actually was. A fire crackled in the hearth to the north while a heavy gold velvet curtain covered the door to the closet set into the south wall. In the center of the room was an ornate mahogany bed with similarly colored hangings and counterpane; however, the bed was so high that it required the use of an ornate set of steps to climb into it. The windowless room was lighted by an iron chandelier, light glinting off the polished wooden floors.

 

 

Just because His Majesty wouldn't subject the Duke of Buckingham to a (potentially) cranky toddler in the earlier parts of the morning, did not mean he would not subject George to himself in the earlier hours. Like most who had been raised together, there was a childlike enjoyment for him in pestering the other. So he left Captain Herbert with the Duke's servants in the parlour and proceeded into the still-sleeping Buckingham's bedchamber. 

 

He almost felt a twinge of guilt. Unlike most he knew the reasons for the Duke's late hours, and they weren't solely because of revelry, fucking, or late-night science-y meetings. George had been a fitful sleeper since his experiences at war long ago and could only sleep once exhausted into it. Having shared a bed enough times, he knew about the nightmares too. 

 

However, he didn't feel that much guilt. So he crept closer to the soft snores, daintily pulled the bedcurtain away, and then flopped onto the bed with all his weight right next to the sleeping duke. 

 

There was a sharp gasp-like snore, then a groan, and finally a groggy, "If you think that's a funny way to wake me for this damnable meeting, Francis, check your license."

 

Charles roared with laughter and when he could finally stop, bleary-eyed George had raised his silver-blond shorn head from the pillow.

 

"Egads, you idiot! You truly think that cub would jump on your bed!" The king snickered. "I'm sure he doesn't even sit without your leave! He polished up remarkably quickly." He shimmied his body into the pillows and feathered bed below, "I should have taken your bed Saturday night, it's much more comfortable."

 

"Must you be so...cheery?"

 

"Maybe you should check your license!" he replied in a singsong way.

 

This made Buckingham laugh, which in turn made Charles laugh. "You're only allowed to drunkenly fuck in my bed if we're both drunkenly fucking women in my bed," George said, sitting up some. 

 

"And I'm cheery because I've been up for hours already, had a good long walk. Saw said cub with his yacht and that German princeling. I almost have half a mind to make it your new mission to loosen him up like you did William that one time."

 

"That time he got so drunk and lusty he was banging on the door to the ladies-in-waiting and scared them so badly you yelled at me for doing too good a job?"***

 

"Let no man say you cannot rise to any task set to you by your King!" He snickered. "But perhaps not like that."

 

"Perhaps not at all. It may not be in anyone's interest. Have you not noticed?" George fully sat up against the pillows and bellowed, "COFFEEEEE!" After all, Charles had clearly prevented his servants from entering.

 

***

 

It was some time later that Buckingham was fully dressed and consumed enough of a breakfast with the King to get him through Catriona's visit with her daughter. Their topic had changed from German princelings to horses, horse races, and hunts while sitting comfortably in the parlour. Both wished to fit one or both horse events into the season. Perhaps after the Christening sometime. 

 

Soon, Catriona was due to arrive, and hopefully she had the sense to be surreptitious about it since the meeting was meant to be kept secret from the Queen. Marital discord was something His Majesty greatly wished to avoid. Upset women was not his thing.

 

(OOC - ***this happened in reality. William bored the King so bad, he asked Bucks to educate him in being fun and William went legitimately bonkers)

[Francis Kirke]

Since he had facilitated the meeting between his royal master and Cat, the King expected him to be there for the duration. After his meeting with Dorothea's brother, he made his way back to the Duke's apartments hoping to have enough time to change into more appropriate attire. Jaunting around a ship in loose breeches was not precisely clothing for attending the King.

 

When he entered in the door, Archer came up to him quickly. He handed his hat to the man, who seemed to be about to say something, when Buckingham's voice cut through.

 

"God's Blood, what are you wearing, Francis?"

 

Archer moved to the side as Francis cocked his head to look around his valet. Buckingham and the King were sitting in front of the hearth, both fully dressed in their fine brocades.

 

Buckingham continued, "Do not tell me that is what you decided to wear to meet a prince?" There was a pause. "And your hair!"

 

The King let out a snort of amusement. One that made Francis wonder how serious this was for Buckingham. 

 

The initial shock wearing off, he bowed to the pair. Then he said, "Shall I change?"

 

"Yes, you daft idiot, and be quick about it. You don't receive princes like that, even for some sport on a yacht!" Buckingham made a hasty gesture with his hand dismissively and then added, "And Archer, fix Medusa's hair before he turns us all to stone."

 

Francis blinked and then said, "It is better to rip the seams in my fine breeches because they are too tight for the activity, Your Grace?"

 

An orange narrowly missed his head and bounced off Archer's chest. "You order your tailor to make you something of appropriate finery with the specifications of the activity. I will have him here in the morning lest you race your fine yacht in front of all of court dressed like that! You are no plain sea captain but an earl. Endeavor to think like one, Kingston."

 

There was not much to be said to that, and he could not fight the look on his face at the news of having to cope with the tailor. Of all the things that came with his new life, tailors were his least favourite and had been since his boyhood when they had returned from exile. He had not grown out of his distaste for it. "As you wish, Sir. By your leave?"

 

As soon as Francis had escaped through the door, the King and Buckingham looked at each other and broke into stifled laughter, but from within his own room Francis could not hear a word or hint of it.

 

"You are so very grumpy in the morning, George. Did you see the look on his poor face at your disapproval?"

 

"Did you see what he was wearing?"

 

The King put a hand to his mouth and chortled, "His hair was very...windswept."

 

There was a fresh wave of titters between the pair. The many cups of coffee and the warmth of liquor within definitely had done the job on both of them as they waited for Catriona's arrival.

[Catriona MacGregor]

That anyone would worry that Cat would make a big show of arriving at the door of the Duke of Buckingham (and Francis) would surprise the Scot to her toes.  She never thought herself a demanding individual, though her siblings might say the contrary.  But, she REALLY needed some help when it came to Fiona.  Besides, Nessie was growing like a weed and it had been awhile since she had been seen by her royal father.  

Wearing a morning gown of dark azure silk with white lace edgings cut to emphasize her silhouette, a strand of pearls around her neck the only adornment, Cat wore her hair mostly up with a waterfall of curls trailing over one shoulder.  The gown was currently covered by a cape in deference to the foggy morning.  Nessia, riding in her mother's arms, wore the same color outfit, but one more fitting for a toddler.  Like father, like daughter, the child was a morning person and was looking around at everything with a smile on her face.  Trailing behind with a medium sized basket was the nanny,Agnes, ready and willing to trade burdens whenever Cat was ready.  The scents of sugar and yeast and all good things wafted from the basket, leaving a delicious aroma in their wake.  Once arrived, Cat knocked on the door.  Nessia decided she wanted to knock as well and rocked forward in Cat's arms to do just that.  

[Defiance]

Catriona's arrival thankfully saved Francis from enduring any more of the duke's (grumpy) morning commentary on his clothing or deportment. 

 

Buckingham's servant answered the door and let in the small group. The King and Buckingham were as they had been, though when His Majesty rose to greet her, Buckingham obligingly rose as well. The cognac in his coffee had given him a pleasant buzz to combat his general lack of morning bravado. Kingston was standing by the hearth in a pretty bronze ensemble, the top half of his hair plaited to lay on top of the rest of his (very voluminous) loose curls, tied with a blue ribbon, looking grateful for her arrival.

 

His Majesty said, "There is my bright little girl! Was that your knocking I heard?" The King was as interested a father as a king could be and none ever found fault in his doting nature. He leaned down to give Nessia a noisy kiss.

 

"And her mama is looking quite well too," he said, adding a kiss on her cheek with a welcoming smile.

 

Buckingham for his part took a great whiff of the air, appreciatively. Francis was not the only Villiers who enjoyed being won over through his stomach. For a man who was paraded gifts, it was sometimes the simpler things that shone more brightly.

 

(you can post next and skip Francis this round  )