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The Last night of Freedom | 19th evening

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Settled comfortably on the main street of the town of Windsor, High Street, the Hen's Toes is a neatly turned out establishment, clearly catering to a more well-mannered class of person than the local country folk. A Tudor facade gives way to a comfortable common room upon first entry, scattered with tables and chairs rather than the more rustic benches that might be found in the local tavern. A roaring hearth dominates the right side of the room, staving off the deep winter chill. A few comfortable chairs accompanied by small side tables offer best access to its warmth. Beside it, a flight of stairs leads up to the floors above, where the sparse but clean guest rooms are located. On the other side of the room, an inconspicuous doorway leads to a private dining room.

Behind the bar one might find either Mr Clarke, a middle aged, stocky man whose rugged demeanour hides his gregarious, jovial nature, or his wife, whose beady eyes keep close eye on all goings on within the establishment.


George sat himself in a comfortable spot near the fire, he was looking forward to the company of men who had been good to him over the past few years, and hoped for a pleasant evening sharing wine and conversation.   Cadell had taken care of details, of which George was largely in the dark, but here was where the night would begin and end (for George had taken a room at the Hens toes for the night, and it was from here that he'd leave for his wedding on the morrow.

"I'll have a cup of tea, and make it a strong one." he cheerfully asked the maid.   

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OOC Notes:

Guestlist given to Cadell was: Beverly, Toldedo, Mountjoy, Basildon, Henry Gray & Doug Fitzjames (and natrually Cadell himself!) 

Consensus formed with mods to have this be a summary thread, George will post his own, and others are free to post their own impressions of the evening as they wish. 

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One by one his closest friends arrived, and soon enough George had changed out his tea cup for a mug of the Inns own ale.  Soon enough though appeared a bottle of his favourite tipple; Cherry Brandy.   

These things whet his whistle over a collection of lively conversations – conversations that, though including the usual ball and chain teasing, plunged into some of the Earls favourite topics of Arts, Philosophy and Theology.

Did he see Douglas eyes glaze over as George discussed the current thinking of Ephesians with Beverly? Did he manage to lure quiet Toledo into discourse upon the philosophy towards the arts in of Spain versus that of England? Basildon earned a nod from George with his ever preened finery, while yet again George told him about his latest plan to create a raffle to be added into his House of Lords Painting.  Effort was made to prevent, then abandoned with laughter, as Mountjoy discovered a reason he needed to share the finer details of a hunting story. Then there was the stargazing (aka requested lesson) from Henry Grey as an addition to the necessary ablutions upon the Hens Toes wall.

There were toasts and calls for toasts, and here the loosened-up George got to his feet to say. 

“Friends, may I call you brothers, for how dear to me that you are. Thank you for coming her this evening, helping me pass this night without being a mess of nerves. It is a big step tomorrow, and I am pleased to celebrate it with you all. Its been a event long over due, in my humble estimation, though may I say it shall be more prized for the long road it’s taken to get there.  Please charge your glasses, and join me in a toast to the Brave Lady who is ready to wed me.  And to a bold future beyond that. Then to yourselves, for no trouble shall disrupt the course as long as I have men like you all. Hip hip, huzzah!” 

With a great smile George rose his glass and made sure to clink it with every and each one. 

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Louis was all smiles as George seemed to enjoy the prospect of his imminent nuptials.  While Louis liked Caroline, she was an odd choice for Chichester.  He could have done better, as he was quite the catch, despite his ... peculiarities.  At times he thought George indifferent to women.

There was FitzJames.  He had done well for himself as an officer and a Scottish baron, but the man was incapable of speaking English.  What sort of animals were Highlanders to teach their young to speak like mongrels?  None could think them intelligent.  He was a bastard and his half-sisters were whores.  While this was ordinarily a recipe for a life in the gutters, the family managed to hang about the periphery of Court with some royal favor.  Curious.

Mountjoy was the exact opposite -- polished, educated, and from a good family.  Seeing the two men together was like watching a mule next to a stallion.  The court could use more stallions.

He did not really know Cadell well. He knew her wife more.  It could have been useful to marry Portsmouth, but her favor seemed to have receded quickly.  The Welshman seemed quiet.  Maybe that was best.

Beverley was a good man and related to his wife.  He was also quiet, but there were promising signs, especially now that he had an heir.

Henry Gray was an interesting fellow and science was an interesting diversion.

And, the brandy was good.  So glasses were clinked and Louis offered a toast of his own.  He returned to his apartment far more sober than needed.

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