Quo Vadis? Evening, Thursday 22ed, Mountjoy Apartments

[Charles Blount]

Quo Vadis?

9-22 Thursday, Mountjoy Apartments

Mountjoy’s secretary Oliver climbed the stairs of the South tower. He had been on an errand to arrange that his master’s tokens to the Queen and her Ladies were set to be delivered tomorrow for the Yacht race. He was however still clutching a single nosegay. Quietly entering the apartment, he saw Mountjoy sitting at the rosewood desk taking advantage of the sunlight streaming through the ample windows. Oliver was fortunate that, unlike many Lords, Blount had very good penmanship and was meticulous enough in his correspondence that Oliver rarely had to re copy his employer’s work. One disadvantage was that his employer expected Oliver’s own work to be flawless and would brook no errors or smudges.

As he had a knack for moving about inconspicuously and his presence was often overlooked, he cleared his throat quietly as he approached. Mountjoy crooked his head but continued writing, the quill making mellifluous scraping noises as he formed the letters. “Has everything been arraigned? His Lordship inquired to which Oliver replied in the affirmative.

“Splendid. I am looking forward to the race, it shall be great fun. I shall give you and Padeen a crown each to make a wager and help out the navy.” He briefly looked up and smiled pleased with his munificence. The scraping continued as mellifluous as before. Oliver was appreciative of the gift but still stood in his place fingering the nosegay.

“Ah… there was one problem with the distribution. Well not a problem per se, Your lordship. More in the realm of an unforeseen circumstance… a minor impediment, one might even say a hitch… at the risk of overstating the matter.”

“Really Oliver. You are or should be profusely aware that I distain an overabundance of malleable speech and would be most acquiescent if you would, with rapidity and vigor, endeavor to systematize your thoughts into a succinct declaration.” Mountjoy retorted with a bit of irascibility.

“Yes Milord.” Oliver said and with rapidity and vigor places the nosegay upon the writing desk and stated. “This is unable to be delivered because Lady Mountjoy has resigned her position and is no longer Mistress of the Robes.”

However mellifluous, the scratching noised stopped and there were several ticks of the clock where Mountjoy did or said nothing. The scratching resumed but now it was more cacophonous than before.

“Ah, yes.” Mountjoy said. “It had entirely slipped my mind. Thank you Oliver for reminding me. That will be all.” 

Later that evening:

He had been giving his newfound knowledge a lot of thought. Ursula was clearly unhappy but he had genuinely been confident that, given some time, Ursula would come to grips with her feelings and realize that discarding the accomplishments she had made would not increase her happiness. Could he have been wrong? He was concerned that Ursula would come to rue her decision and become even more unhappy. He would support her either way for, to him, her contentment was more important than her not inconsiderable accomplishments.

He waited until the evening when the palace quieted down and when he heard her maid leave her bedchamber to fetch something or other he rose and intercepted her. Seeing that it was a cup of chocolate, he informed the Maid that he would bring the beverage in and that she was excused until her mistress rang for her. Entering he saw that Ursula was at her dressing table with her back towards him. Ursula could have had cause for rebuke at the inappropriate way her maid closed the door and the way the cup and saucer unprofessionally rattled when it was put down but then she felt a weight settle next to her and an unmistakable aura left her in no doubt who it was and it was not her maid.

A cold waft of air cooled her neck as her hair was pulled back only to be replaced by a sultry breath and two warm lips. “Would you be so kind as to share your evening coco with me?”  

[Hope]

The servant rattled the cup discordantly, so that a frown briefly pinched her forehead, but with a sigh she let the concern go.  The relief of the day had her more tolerant, why even her reflection did not seem so old and haggard as it had yesterday.  She continued brushing her hair... 

"My Charles..." she smiled warmly of the pleasant surprise with his appearance, "you have finished work early this evening. This is the benefit of Windsor I suppose." her accent had softened some over the years in England, but was still very nasal.  "But really I should send for a second cup."  

Turning she smiled.  While she had a secret from him, she was in no rush at all to reveal it, she'd imagined some time in the recess would suffice.  

 

[Charles Blount]

As she turned, he returned her smile. She seemed more receptive than she had been during their previous conversation so he reached out and took the brush from her and continued with the task at hand. “I fear I will have to do without as I sent your maid away. The lack of coco is a small price to pay for the seclusion.” He could do without a cup if it meant not having to parse their words in front of the help. “There normally would not be much work to be done here at Windsor, other than the duties due the Queen, but Sir William…” He said referring to the Attorney General. “… Has become overburdened and has withdrawn from much of his responsibilities. He is a lawyer of considerable but timid man in disposition unsuited for the current political turmoil the Realm is experiencing so my burden has increased as I take up the slack.” He shrugged. “He might be willing to step aside but he is on good terms with Buckingham so it would not be politick to press the issue and to be honest I am in no hurry to assume that position.”

He had no ulterior motive other than to ruminate on his professional position as a matter of conversation but then he realized that his confiding in such information at this time might be construed by Ursula to be a deliberate comment upon the dilemma she was having with her own position. That was not his intention, at least deliberately but it was too late now to do anything about it.

Perhaps it might even provide an opening for Ursula to divulge her own information. He was somewhat surprised that Ursula had acted without conferring with him beforehand. When they spoke last, she had agreed to allow some time before she made a decision and if her position became untenable, she would inform him and that he would support her choice either way. His initial impression was that Ursula might be unsure of how to broach the subject even though they had promised not to keep things bottled up and hidden from the other and this might be a welcome prompt. After all her decision to resign was not something that could be hidden as this was the exact thing court gossip thrived upon and it would only be a matter of a day or two before everyone that was anyone, and even most of the people who where were not anyone would still know. 

To change the subject, he added. “I am eagerly looking forward to the yacht races. It should provide all the excitement of a horse race with less manure. I have ordered my barge up from London. It should be here by morning on the marrow. It will provide us the option of viewing the race from a closer distance if we wish. I am sure Frau Klebb will provide hampers brimming with her pastries if we choose to entertain.” Several years ago his friend Lord Langland, recognizing Mountjoy’s interest in things nautical, gifted him with a six oared shallop of the kind commonly used as water taxies in and about London. He the concluded with a combined question and statement.

“I do assume that you wish to attend?”  

[Hope]

Ursula smiled at his musings on the Attorney General. Charles was an ambitious man, while his vocation itself was exceedingly dull to her mind. Oh, she had tried to read the book she had written, but a page or two in, she had put it on her bedside (effective bedtime reading).  But to Charles, it was riveting stuff, and he'd have liked little more than to discuss, in-depth, its chapters with others of his ilk.  

Between them there was an unspoken consensus that their work lives did not overlap. Mind you, that had been before she was a freed woman, so perhaps she would take more interest in his writings in the future... but not just yet. She had earned and needed a rest.

"That's lovely darling." in a sing-song voice she commended.

Charles was also excited about the boat races, just as most of the court was.  

"Is that allowed?" she idly asked, imagining if every peer brought up their boats, there would be no room for the yachts.  "It sounds just lovely...   I was going to have tea with Lady St Leger in the morning; she's been inviting me to a get-together for months, as you know." 

 

 

[Charles Blount]

“I have not been informed otherwise.” He replied to the inclusion of their barge. “it will not be part of the race of course and it would have to be kept away from the actual participants but I do not believe it would interfere to have it off to the side.” Normally Ursula would have been expected to remain with the Queen during such an occasion and thus would not have had the freedom of choosing how or where she would observe so he did not force the issue as he wanted to give Ursula the chance to tell him on her own.

“Lady St. Ledger appears to be a convivial and proper Lady by all accounts although I must say I do not know her all that well. I am better acquainted with her husband Lord Beverly. He seems a sociable fellow. He does not hunt…” he added with a shake of his head as if the prospect of not liking to hunt was a foreign notion that he could not understand. “… But he does like to ride so that is something. Comes from a perfectly respectable family and Prince Rupert thinks well of him and that is an achievement. If you find Lady St. Ledger’s company diverting, I would have no objection to a more familiar acquaintance for the four of us. They are still in the rapture of early matrimony and may relish the society of another couple.” Charles had always been devoted to Ursula but their respective positions and obligations often dictated that they spend their time apart. They had rarely entertained as a couple. Upon this reflection Charles began to understand that although Ursula’s decision affected them socially and politically there were also benefits in that it would be easier for them to spend time together. At least he hoped that would be a benefit.

He brushed her hair for a few moments allowing them to marshal their thoughts and savor the quiet moment. “Is that my book?” he inquired noticing a familiar leather spine poking out from under a few items. “I would not have thought that English property law would be of interest to you. I am afraid I am not qualified to espouse on German property law. If your interest has been kindles you will be delighted to know that I have started on another book… rather a series of books for I believe the subject requires several volumes. It will not be as light or enthralling as my first book, it being a more comprehensive oeuvre on property conveyance and inheritance. It should only take a couple of years to finish but I would be happy to show you my work as it progresses for your opinion. If I am very concise and keep extrapolation to a minimum, I believe I could keep it to a brief thousand and a half pages… not including appendices and foot-notes of course.”  This was very close to bragging but he felt he could be free as it was just between the two of them and Ursula had always been supportive of his hobbies. He particularly liked the coquettish way she pretended to tease him about his hunting stories which he knew always tended to arouse her. He thought about launching into a rousing story of a bear hunt but was cognizant that Ursula had a morning engagement and they both had a full schedule for the regatta so he magnanimously refrained himself so as to not unduly fatigue them for the following day.

[Hope]

“And Lord St. Ledger, of course, industrious with the Board of Trade." Ursula reminded, for her husband was aquainted with all those men, especially upon account of his innovation of the Bank of England. 

"Then would you not mind if I invited the St Legers to join us on the barge?" she paused and added, "Young Lord and Lady Beverly are lovely, of course, but I feel a greater affinity for their seniors if four it is to be. And like you say, Beverly does not hunt, which I find quite simply odd, but then he is a tad...well, naive.  But if you wish, then surely we might invite them too. "

Charles then spotted his book tucked off to the side.  "Yes I have been meaning to ask the author to autograph it for me." she teased in return, "Nothing sense Hope to sleep so well as a half-chapter read to her at bedtime."

"Dearest, is this fixation of yours with property and inheritance law, perchance, in relation to our own situation?  I should say you shall-become, if not already-are, the paramount expert on such things in all of England." 

 

[Charles Blount]

“Lord Brooke should certainly not be overlooked.” He reflected. “I do deal with him in the course of business and I obviously see him at the Woolsack from time to time but, come to think of it, I do have to say that, through no reason or conscious choice, my social interactions have been limited to Court functions. It is perhaps one of those incomprehensible whims of fate that thus is so for there is no reason that we should not be better acquainted. Lady Brooke is much younger than her husband but that is of no account. I would be delighted to share a saucer of tea or perhaps in the sprit of the occasion some rum punch for what other beverage is more suited to honor our sailors. As for including the junior St. Legers you must do as you please. I am sure separate entertainment might even be preferable to them as they might find the wisdom of such a mature company tedious. I would relish the company of the senior St. Legers and I promise you I will not bore you with business talk although the Bank of England may come up.”

Charles, even as a younger man, had always acted more mature than his age. Partly that was due to having the responsibilities of a head of a family thrush upon him since before he came of age but also because his rise in the legal profession dictated as much as he was usually the youngest person among his peers. It was a bit strange that now, when his reputation was secure and his carefully cultivated gravatas acknowledged, that he, or his circle, viewed those just a few years his junior as a younger generation.

“I am pleased that our little Hope has the intellect to find such a work monotonous.” He proudly responded taking Ursula’s teasing in stride. “It would not surprise you I think to learn that this would not be the first time I have been told the work is dull but it may come as a revelation to hear that it is so by design.” He smiled as he felt comfortable explaining his inner motivation. My intent was not only to provide a resource of knowledge but also to inculcate the ability to critically sift through all the particulars to determine the true and relevant facts to the case at hand… or at least the relevant facts to the argument at hand if the truth is non supportive. Establishing a solid base of incontrovertible facts for a case is just, if not more, important than the oratory of arguing the case.”

He shrugged and moved on to brushing the other side of her head. “I do not think I have explained these motivations to anyone other than Heneage. I do hope my explanation for being tedious has not been too tedious.”

“I shall not only sign your copy but mention you, in the most flowery terms, in the dedication of my next book.”

He did not smile at Ursula’s next comment as it touched not only on their ‘unfortunate incident’ but also his ‘unfortunate incident’ He certainly understood why she would dwell on the subject but it nonetheless troubled him as he knew how keenly she felt the loss. He stopped brushing and squeezed her shoulders. “No dearest it does not.” He said definitively. “I was forced to fixate on the subject many years before I met you. I had little choice but to become knowledgeable in the subject for, as you no doubt recall, it was the only way for me to regain my inheritance from my uncle who betrayed his position as my guardian to subvert my property for his own benefit. When I came of age, being a fresh alumnus full of vim and vinegar and lettered from Oxford, I knew that the only way I could counter his means and influence and regain what was mine was to take him to law and doggedly counter his bribes with meticulous records and irrefutable facts.”

He sighed at the recollection. “It was distasteful dragging our family business through the very public mud. The fracas brought me some notoriety as a competent litigator but severely tarnished his reputation by exposing his collaboration with the Commonwealth which, after the return of the King, was not looked kindly upon. The old bandit fled to Sherborne where he took ill and claims to have been at deaths door this past decade or more. You could say that ever since then I have had a penchant for digging around property sales and deeds for one can uncover a plethora of information that pertains to more than property. You could also say that is why we have never entertained my dear cousins for dinner.”

Years past he would not have shrunk from extrapolating on the flaws of the de Courtenay family and the wrongs done to him but he had mellowed in his not so old age so was more willing to let the dogs that are sleepy lie.

His brushing had become faster and more forceful as he dwelt upon his relations which was a clear sign of agitation but it soon slowed and resumed its rhythmic gentleness. “I have had my telescope brought up.” He said rather out of the blue. He had come across a substantial naval telescope in some shop in London and had purchased it despite the total lack of any need for such an instrument. He had taken the telescope up to the observation gallery at Epsom to scour the distant heath for rabbits and upon sighting them would run down the stairs shouting for his guns to race across the heath only to find that any Leporidae had, as the footmen put it, scarpered off. Mountjoy would loudly claim that since it was the Normans who introduced rabbits to England that made the rabbits French and thus prone to running away.

“I do not know how useful it will be but I am sure the Ladies at Court will find it’s addition to my ensemble quite dashing.”

[Hope]

"Hmm... a challenge to those with weak attention spans, certainly." She quietly agreed as she took the subject very seriously.   

Perhaps it was her sense of relief that savoured lightness at the moment?  Alas, her poor husband was not benefited thusly, so that with her naive supposition that he might be England's expert in such things, he went into a tirade, the stroke of his brush became a tool to vent his anguish.  "Please Charles, you shall distress my hair into a great frizz!" she entreated his pace to slow.  

"I am sorry I mentioned it, dearest, you must. It is not my intent to upset you." 

And so he took a change of subject—telescopes, which seemed to be in fashion these days.  "Lord Gray shall be most interested in comparing, and I suspect he desires a royal warrant for his skies star charts.  Whatever his intent, he would be very interested in your latest acquisition.

"I spoke to someone the other day who said that Thomas Harriot discovered sunspots and not Galileo.  Though really I expect most more interested in stars further away, rather than that most obvious to us... hmm, which almost sounds like a philosophy.  Reminiscent of the bible verse about how a prophet is not accepted in his home town.  It is human nature I suppose, to most highly regard the most exotic, while being blaze of that which seems common to us."  

[Charles Blount]

“Oh…I am sorry my Dear.” He said in response to his unwarranted assault on his wife’s hair. He stopped brushing and ran his fingers thru her hair to comfort her and relieve any distress he may have caused. He then returned to brushing but this time in a very gentle way. “It was not you who upset me but I who let my old feelings intrude. It was an unpleasant time yet beneficently formative. I do not wish to spoil these moments so consider all my vexation to be banished.

Settling back into convivial conversation he added “I doubt Lord Grey would be impressed in my device for a naval telescope is a much simpler thing than the astronomical contraptions he uses to survey the heavens. “Harriot? I know of him… Oxford man. Did you know he invented the potato? He presented some to Queen Elizabeth who gifted a few to the then Lord Mountjoy and we have had a small patch at Athelhampton ever since. Very good for medicinal purposes and is a main ingredient in my rabbit stew.” Various rabbit meals were the only dishes Charles knew how to prepare as one could easily catch and cook them in the field. He had a particular stew that he swore was a cure all for everything from a queasy stomach to the pox. “It was Sam, our old gardener, who taught me how to make my rabbit stew which works wonders when one is feeling poorly. He used to say that the secrete was in the potatoes, ‘There is only one way to eat a brace of coneys’  he used to say, ‘you can boil ‘em, mash ‘em or stick ‘em in a stew.’* But you say he discovered sun spots as well? That is fascinating although as the Sun is very old, I suppose it is not surprising it would have spots.”  Charles was an educated man but his intellect, however astute, tended to more practical disciplines.

The previous agitation that had manifested as a result of him regurgitating the ills done upon him by his relatives seemed to have vanished as he was back to tending to Ursula’s locks with gentle efficiency. “You do seem to be more content than you have been of late. Does Windsor agree with you or has the Queen’s successful pregnancy quieted your unease? I must say that whatever the cause it is welcome. Perhaps, if you have the time, we could take a ride in the park. The grounds here are rather delightful.”      

[Hope]

"That is quite all right my dear." She replied warmly as Charles got a grip on his high emotions of earlier.  Her hand reached and patted his knee (which was the only limb convenient to her as he sat behind.)

"Ach! He invented the Potato? Well, that man certainly had great range!" she chuckled. The same man who'd peered at the skies had also explored underground. "So often have I eaten them since we were married, I had come to think they were the country's staple.  Good old Sam, such a dependable chap.  You make me think we should recognise him in some manner for his dietary contributions to the family.  Do you remember when little Hope was poorly, and all we could manage to feed her was potato starch dripped though a rag? She was bouncing back to good health nearly immediately..."

Her lighter mood, or encouragement there of, was then noted by her attentive husband, and for a moment she wondered about revealing the catalyst.  He even said that whatever the reason for her cheer, he welcomed it. But, would he still feel that way if he actually knew? 

"The clouds have indeed cleared a little for me, my love." she paused and met his eyes reflection in the mirror.  "Charles, might you agree that progress is not always forward, that perhaps progress can be a step back.  Oh, in any case, I shall not trouble you with the musings of a female mind.  I would love to go riding in the park - or better yet in a carriage where we can sit side by side under a blanket as we enjoy the passing views." 

  

[Charles Blount]

“There is no question Sam was a faithful and devoted servant to the family. He would have had a home at Athelhampton for the rest of his life but the wars had a profound effect upon him. After the return of the King he decided to sail into the West. I was loathed to see him go but provided a legacy that enabled him to buy some land in the Carolinas. It was the least I could do for his service and the last I heard he was content with several grandchildren.” Charles expected loyalty and devotion from his retainers and when given was amply returned by him.

He smiled at the mention of little Hope. Like most of his class, he left the bulk of child rearing to Nannys and Tutors but he cared deeply for his daughter and had strong concerns for her safety and wellbeing. “The recuperative powers of the young never ceases to amaze me. It seems that they make up for the briefness of their ailments with frequency. She will always be my little Hope but she is growing in leaps and bounds. It will seem like in no time at all she will be ready for her own pony.”

If he was to be honest with himself had to admit that when he believed that Ursula had resigned her position, he was not entirely disappointed. His own position as Master of Horse was not very onerous as the Queen’s Equerry performed most of the day-to-day functions and his position as Solicitor General, while more involved than other positions, was not overwhelming as he had many clerks and could set his own hours. Positions such as Ladies or Gentlemen in waiting had no such flexibility and as Mistress of the Robes Ursula was even more constrained in her liberty. Lodging in the Palace was prestigious but there was something to be said for the privacy of one’s own home and the ability to spend one’s own time without it impacting affairs of State. But still, it was their duty. Charles was a proud and sometimes haughty man and the basis and the basis of that perceived superiority was that the Mountjoy’s served, he served, not out of lust for power or prestige but out of loyalty and commitment to the Crown. He knew now that the story must be nothing but false gossip for Ursula had had ample opportunity to divulge its existence if true. They had previous issues of being circumspect in divulging their feelings to each other but they had put that behind them and Charles could not conceive that Ursula would conceal such momentous news. They both now were in a lighter mood.

He was pleased that the clouds, if not cleared, were at least clearing for Ursula. He supposed that their understanding that Ursula would stay the course in the hopes that her misgivings would fade was bearing fruit and soon she would be back to her regular, stalwart self. That thought improved his mood even further. Perhaps that was why he did not hone in when Ursula cryptically referred to stepping back and not moving forward and accepted her avowal that it was naught but womanly musings.

Further led astray by her acceptance of an outing he gave it no more thought. “A carriage ride would be delightful.” He readily acceded. He preferred riding on horseback rather than by carriage for it was easier to take a pot shot at any animals that happened upon or to chase after them if need be but the Great Park was bisected by many well-kept trails that offered varied terrain and pleasant vistas that he did not mind. And, as Ursula suggested, carriage borne travel provided a more intimate conveyance. True he would not be able to fire away at any rabbits that happened by but that was a small price to pay. 

[Hope]

He did not reply to her hints that she had thoughts to share on that front, but instead focussed upon a future carriage ride.  For the briefest moment, Ursula considered backing the conversation to that point, perhaps to share the reason for her relieved manner.   But instead, she smiled and pressed forward also, they had ample time to converse about serious things, and this light moment was something to savour...

"Although, in a carriage, I could not do this..." she leaned forward to kiss Charles's cheek, and as she did so her hand slid further up his thigh. 

 

[Charles Blount]

As his mind conjured what a pleasant ride in the country might bring his inner brain registered something about Ursula’s continence that hinted about regret for a path taken. Was he now at a wall that, with the slightest push, would crumble and reveal the interior of her feelings? In a flash of symbiosis, the clouds began to clear and he was about to ask Ursula directly for the cause of her new liberation. That was until there was a kiss on his cheek and a familiar pale and feminine hand slid further up this thigh. The synapses in his brain immediately lost the ability to continue his previous thoughts as they were overwhelmed my more primal urges.

The brush clattered un noticed to the floor as he entwined his body to embrace her and his lips met hers. Any thoughts of the future were replaced with experiencing the here and now as their bodies sought the closeness that eluded their minds.    

  

(Shall we fade to black so as not to traumatize the children?)