An evening of Stargazing etc | climbing the tower, Weds 21st evening

[Francis Kirke]

Lord Grey greeted them and gave Buckingham the expected attention and compliments due his ducal vanity, which was immense, regardless of his friendly demeanor. 

 

Francis returned the greetings and nods given to him, and then gravitated toward Mountjoy, while keeping an eye on Athenry and the Duchess of Portsmouth. He would need to be a buffer if His Majesty arrived. Especially if His Majesty arrived with the Queen.

 

"How are you keeping tonight Lord Mountjoy?" Francis asked, raising a glass to the other man.

[Defiance]

The Duke was please with Lord Grey's compliments and attentions. 

 

He had one of the servants give him a deep pour of cognac and made his way over toward the instruments to give them an examination. Lord Grey was an intelligent and accomplished man of study, so Buckingham was eager to see the quality.

[Charles Blount]

Lady Lucas, as was they way in these types of gatherings orbited away into the gravitational pull of Lord Grey as he was momentarily occupied with the arrival of Buckingham whose strongest detractors would never go so far as accusing him of surreptitiously entering a room. Blount himself was a rather formal man aware of his status but he could readily acknowledge the flair  the Duke had for making the mundane remarkable. His own bow of greeting was, of course, flawlessly executed, and appropriate to his status.

 It was then that the constellation Buckhamus majoris unleashed its moon Kirkis Minor.

Mountjoy’s cosmic foray ceased when Francis beamed in his direction. “I am keeping quite well Lord Kingston. I do say that you will enjoy the mulled wine our host has provided for us as it is deliciously infused with an overabundance of nutmeg. That is unless you have an objection to nutmeg in which case I would caution you to another choice.”  He took a sip of the said beverage. “I am somewhat surprised, yet not astounded or amazed, that Buckingham is attending, previously believing that this type of gathering was not his Grace’s cup of spiced wine so to speak. Tell me was it the Duke who brought you or you who brought the Duke?”

[Francis Kirke]

"I am not averse to nutmeg," Francis confirmed with a warm chuckle. He signaled a nearby servant to bring him a cup. "Spices are one thing a traveler of exotic places generally takes a liking to in comparison to the many tame palates who have never left an English countryside."

 

Flavor did not frighten Francis.

 

As Mountjoy made his observation, Francis took a quick glance at the duke, and then looked back to answer. "It is neither, my lord, but that we crossed paths on the way here." Well, Francis had been dallying and enjoying his peace on the rampart before arriving, and Buckingham had dragged him forth more expeditiously.

 

"His Grace is a fellow of the royal society and has a heavy interest in natural philosophy, though it is true he is more known for more...ostentatious endeavors. He was the Chancellor at Cambridge during Lord Grey's early tenure there before becoming Lord Grey, so they know each other quite without my aide," he replied in good humor. 

[Eleanor Bayning]

She was late, or at least later than she intended to be, and that was rather frustrating. Lord Grey had been nothing but supportive of her, and Eleanor had gathered from his various mentions of it how important this evening was to him; she wished to be there to offer her support. Alas but she had been quite indisposed these last few days, the stress of the journey to Windsor catching up with her and confining her to bed with a most unseemly sniffle and cough, her brow cooled by a cloth. Only today had she felt strong enough to venture out, and whilst talk of the circus was tantalising she chose not to overtax herself, lest she be exhausted before the big night. Still, her usual routine of dressing and makeup had taken her longer than usual, and it was perhaps fortunate that low light and the expected layer of powder on her face would hide the fact that she was paler than usual beneath it. 

Her uncle loved to dress in greys - quite deliberately, she rather suspected - and so she had chosen her demure evening dress of lavender silk as a complimentary hue. The borders had been embroidered with the nodding heads of bluebells in shades of blue and green silk, along with the occasional bee, which suddenly felt terribly frivolous. Uncle Henry had alluded to the possibility of several significant courtiers, and possibly even royalty, attending, and her love of embroidered whimsy suddenly seemed an almost childish thing. But it was what it was. No, she told herself, it was more than that. The embroidery might be her own but it was well done. Furthermore it was there and she could either wear the dress or attend naked. No, she thought to herself, she would channel her mother's poise and wear it with pride. Or at least try to. 

Thinking of her mother, she'd searched out a precious box from the bottom of her chest and unlocked it. It contained a single string of pearls, short enough to sit just on her collarbones, but creamy white and gleaming. They weren't hers, they were her mother's, and she'd been loaned them under strict instructions to take the greatest of care with them. If Royalty were to attend again then perhaps tonight was the night to wear them. Perhaps they would gleam under the starlight. 

So it was that Eleanor ascended the steps of the tower, slowly for decorum but with the energy of youth, and arrived at the top with her hair artfully curled, coiled and piled, her ostrich feather fan in her hand, and her only jewellery the single strand of pearls at her throat; the better to accentuate it. But she was hardly the first one there. Uncle Henry - Lord Grey, she corrected herself mentally - was clearly fussing with his equipment and greeting guests, and the food and drink were already circulating. Rather than trying to make some grand entrance she hadn't earned, Eleanor slipped in quietly, glancing from face to face behind her fan. Some she knew, more than a few actually, and that was heartening. Why there was Lord Athenry, with whom she'd had a most interesting game and conversation. There was Lady Lucas, with whom she'd had a rather rough beginning. She'd sent a letter as an apology and they had meant to meet for a walk in the gardens, had she not taken ill. Perhaps there would be opportunity to make a new beginning tonight. 

And there, stately in the light of the torches, was Lord Mountjoy; Eleanor breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. Lord Mountjoy seemed such a solid, dependable character, as well as a highly esteemed one, and Uncle Henry had thoroughly approved of him also. Why, he even shared her delight in the finely wrought ornamentation of clothing, so he must be a man of good taste. If he was here then it felt as though surely nothing could go wrong. Alas but he was already speaking with a young gentleman with blonde hair whom she did not know. 

Flicking her fan in an artful manner that caught the eye whilst not actually blowing any of the chill evening air onto her already cool skin, Eleanor assayed a few false-confident steps into the fray, accepting a cup of mulled wine from a server to warm herself and incidentally bringing herself into Lord Mountjoy's field of view. 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth following Buckingham over to the telescopes

 

After he greeted The Duke and Lord Kingston, Lord Grey joined her, just when she was currently chewing a delicious pastry filled with cheese and herbs. While he spoke, Anne-Elisabeth washed it down with a sip of wine.

 

“There are quite a few such minds here.  Perhaps one of the other ladies will discover that she is as passionate about astronomy as I am.” She grinned. “It’s lonely being the only one.”

 

He gave her permission to use his telescopes before the demonstration began. She was pleased that he had trust in her. “Thank you. If you have time at the end of the evening, Lord Grey. I would like to discuss something with you.” She wouldn’t have a lot of time to linger as she had a séance to attend at midnight.

 

He moved on, and she practically skipped toward the telescope display. Buckingham had had the same idea and he was a bit ahead of her. Anne-Elisabeth caught up and smiled up at him. “They are very fine instruments, are they not, Your Grace? Perhaps my dream will come true tonight and I will discover a new star.”

 

Stopping in front of the nearest telescope, she peered through the eyepiece and began adjusting some of the settings to get a better view. It was clear that she knew exactly what she was doing.

[Aria]

Athenry, Chatham, and Portsmouth

 

Immersed in her own misery, Louise didn’t pay attention to the conversation between her husband and the one-eyed gentleman. Yet when said gentleman called her a star and raised his glass to her, she perked up a bit. A compliment was exactly what she needed to lift her spirits.

 

“Oh yes, quite often. Telescopes are in a constant state of improvement, and Le Roi likes to share the latest developments with his courtiers. Not just astronomy, but new developments in other fields of science and the arts as well.” For a few moments, she forgot her troubles as she spoke of her home. “Versailles is a place where you literally learn something new every day.”

 

[Aria]

The Butler girls arrive

 

Henrietta Butler sighed in relief as she approached the group of courtiers with her sister Elizabeth and their chaperone. It looked as if the demonstration had not started yet. Good. The climb to the ramparts had been long and slow. Their overweight chaperone had needed to rest on nearly every landing and she had feared that they were going to be unfashionably late.

 

But they were here now and that’s all that mattered.

 

Elizabeth nudged her side sharply. “There he is,” she said, nodding her head to where Lord Chatham was conversing with the Duchess of Portsmouth and a gentleman with a cane who was most likely her husband. “Don’t you want to go over and say hello?”

 

Henrietta hesitated, not wanting to barge in on what might be an important conversation.

[Charles Blount]

Mountjoy and Francis approaching Eleanor

 

“Ah, yes, I tend to forget that you have shipping interests and spent your former years at sea.” He thought back recalling the Cromwellian diaspora. The unfortunate republican debacle induced many families to embrace foreign experiences   “I myself was inoffensively ensconced at Oxford and young and inconsequential enough to remain.”

Reminisces of the aftermath of the civil war did not make for pleasant conversation at Court so he did not linger on the subject so Francis’ explanation the Cambridge connection between the Duke and their host gave him the perfect opportunity to move on. “Yet another reminder for me that Lord Grey attended Cambridge. He is such a capital fellow that one can wholly overlook his regrettable choice in schools.” He looked kindly at Francis. “Not that I cast any disparagement upon your position as Chancellor of that institution. Someone must do the job after all and if I had not been so fortunate to be acceptable at the proper university, I could have quite reasonably have resigned myself to attend Cambridge. I have been told by some learned Bishops, some of whom attended Cambridge, that it is a virtue to accept one’s imperfections.”

Francis was a pleasant enough gentleman so much so that Mountjoy was in a magnanimous enough mood to go so far to concede that Cambridge was, possibly, in the most favorable light, if one had no other options, the second best university in England. He looked around at the other attendees. “My first impression of this outing was that it would be a dry affair attended by aged and obtuse academics but am delighted to find such interest from the fairer sex.” He nodded to the various ladies present. “Perhaps His Grace was aware of this fact and a desire for knowledge was not his only motivation.” He chuckled for Buckingham’s appreciation of feminism beauty was well known.

And if to underscore the participation of women in this event he noticed that Mistress Eleanor had quite un-assumedly arrived, which, after the arrival of the Duke of Buckingham, was an easy thing to do. Yet again she was unaccompanied and looked a bit forlorn but she was displaying more confidence than she had during their last meeting appropriately signaling with her fan that she was approachable.

“Speaking of the fairer sex,” he said to Kingston, “I do espy the arrival of Mistress Baning. She is but newly arrived at court so I would fathom that you would not have had the opportunity of yet to make her acquaintance. Please do follow me and I will remedy that situation.” He moved off to approach Eleanor confidant that Francis would follow for it would be impolite to refuse such an invitation and Francis was such a well-behaved gentleman.

As he neared Eleanor he bowed and made his greeting. “Mistress Eleanore, how very good to see you again. I was beginning to think that we had scared you away or that your evil uncle had locked you up in a tower room.” He paused briefly to allow her an opportunity to respond before he went on. “If you would allow me to introduce this charming gentleman accompanying me as Lord Kingston. As you might surmise from the abundance of golden curls he is kin to the Villers and is a protegee of His Grace of Buckingham.” Turning he continued. “Lord Kingston. May I present Mistress Eleanore Baning. Miss Baning is the niece of Lord Grey who is sponsoring her at Court so I believe you to have something in common in that area. I do hope that we find you well.”

[Francis Kirke]

Francis, Mountjoy, and Eleanor

 

"His Grace always has many motivations," Francis answered. "He will be pleased with the beauty of the event, I think."

 

Francis followed Lord Mountjoy's eyes to the young lady in question. Young ladies looked younger and younger to him, but he felt his age even if he did not look his age by any means.

 

"No, I have not," he verified, giving a nod of acquiescence. He did follow along with Mountjoy.

 

His blond head dipped in greeting. "Mistress Baning, a pleasure. I do hope your uncle is making your court stay pleasurable. And protege is such a classification. I am the target of his grandiose pontifications, for my betterment, of course."