The Lion’s Den | Early Afternoon, Saturday 24th

[Duncan Melville]

Quote

The Main Tower

The first floor is where Very Important Personages stay. On this floor you will find York & wife, the Duke of Buckingham, Duke of Newcastle & Family, Marquess of Worcester & Family, & Duc of Chevreuse.

Late enough to assure that Her Grace Newcastle was already out and about, yet early enough so that his visit would not be impertinent because of the Masque’s starting time, a well-dressed Viscount de Melville paused at the door of the Newcastle suite on the first floor of the Main Tower. The Scot had been given a room on the second floor of the same tower, the one Cat had returned the key of or so he had been told by someone, so the trip had been quite short.

The Lowlander was dressed in finely-tailored black velvet breeches and justaucorps with silver thread detailing, embroidered steel-gray waistcoat with ivory buttons, white cotton shirt, black silk cravat, white silk stockings, and black leather shoes with silver buckles. A wooden box of about a foot wide, half a foot deep, and a quarter of a foot tall made out of oiled French black walnut was nested under his left arm. The silver mourning ring he wore on the little finger of his left hand, while tear-shaped blue diamonds sparkled on his right hand and cravat. His shoulder-length hair had been brushed and tied back in a queue with a black silk ribbon, and his ebony walking stick was carried in his right hand. He did not seem to be carrying any weapons.

Duncan made a short mental prayer abandoning himself in the hands of Providence, and knocked on the door with his cane’s silver head. Into the lion’s den.

[Blackguard]

The door was dutifully answered by a manservant wearing Newcastle's emblem.  It was not a servant calling, obviously, so the servant straightened his posture more.  "Good day sir.  How might I assist?"

[Duncan Melville]

"Viscount de Melville calling on Her Grace Newcastle", Duncan said as he handed his calling card to the servant. "Could you please ask her if she is accepting calls?"

Lady Frances had decided on the time, and she had also said that`she would let her mother know. Still, the masque was being held later that day, and there were at least three daughters attending court besides the Duchess. Unless they had a maid or two for each, it would take them quite some time to get ready. Even if he was shown in, the Lowlander knew that he would have to be brief. Perhaps not as brief as at the yacht races, but brief nevertheless.

[Blackguard]

"Very good milord," the servant replied.  "One moment please."

It so happened that the Duke was still in the suite and was ready to flee and meet his son Ogle at the stables.  It was Henry Cavendish himself that arrived in front of Duncan in that moment, calling card in hand.  He was dressed as if set to go elsewhere in the castle.  The Duke knew of Melville, but little more.

"Melville," the Duke began, seeing no need to introduce himself.  "My wife is assisting our daughters at the moment.  Perhaps I can assist you with your inquiry?"  His eyebrow arched as he tried to imagine why the Scot was calling on his wife.

[Duncan Melville]

"Your Grace", Duncan bowed deeply and formally. "I did not mean to trouble you. I had the honour to meet Her Grace and three of your daughters yesterday at the yacht races, and I wanted to drop by and present a token of my respect. I did not want to send it with my valet". Dukes and Duchesses expected to be treated almost like royalty, and the Lowlander knew it. "Perhaps I can hand it over to a servant?" He was not presumptuous enough to expect the Duke to receive the gift himself.

If the oiled French black walnut box were to be opened, an assortment of various nougats, sugared almonds of different colours, and differently-flavoured chocolate bonbons would be seen. Duncan's second coachman had ridden to London during the night, so he could be first in line when the shop at the Strand opened, to return to Windsor as quickly as he could.

"I hope you do not consider it too forward of me to have done so?"

War had taught the Viscount what centuries later Von Moltke would sum up as no plan of operations extends with any certainty beyond the first encounter with the main enemy force. The Lowlander had not planned to meet the Duke that afternoon, but he would do his best, even though the circumstances were different than expected.

[Blackguard]

Henry Cavendish was a politician and a clever man. Perhaps he could hold no candle to his father, the renown William Cavendish, but he was a powerful man in his own right.  He was successful by divining the intent of those he met. This Scot standing before him was there for a purpose. 

Had the meeting truly been casual, a servant would have delivered a gift, with a note.  When a lord came in person, it was in the hope of meeting face to face with the recipient of the gift.  His wife was receiving a gift, rather than him, because this Scotsman wanted her favor.  Why would a Scottish viscount want the favor of a wife with three daughters at court, two unmarried?  The mention of meeting the daughters as well all but confirmed the man's intent to the Duke.  It was speculation, of course, but the Duke enjoyed the game of anticipating things before they occurred. 

Newcastle's daughters deserved an English earl for a husband, at least to mind of the father and mother.  Standing before him was a Scottish viscount.   He knew of Melville, a widower if he recalled correctly.  His family was well-known in the north.  Perhaps he should inquire further of the man.

"I see," Newcastle replied, saying nothing further for 10 seconds, just to watch discomfort, should it appear.  "Which of my daughters have you met?" he asked seemingly innocently.  It was either Frances or Margaret.  He hoped it was the former.  The latter was his favorite.  Frances was becoming something of an embarrassment, after losing the interest of Dorset and then the Earl of Chichester, who opted instead to marry some random French widow.  

[Duncan Melville]

Ten seconds were an eternity in some circumstances. When laying an ambush you could hear yourself breathe, and you could feel your heart thumping in your ears. Standing in front of one of the greatest peers of His Grace Charles’ three kingdoms for the same ten seconds probably had that same effect on most men.

Not so on Duncan. Had it been Turenne, perhaps. But not His Grace Newcastle. So, he remained at ease, feet placed slightly apart, not in a combat stance, but in a relaxed position he could maintain for hours… at least he could back when his physical shape was at its peak. He remained silent, knowing his worth was probably being considered.

”I had the honour of meeting Lady Frances at the races”, Duncan replied truthfully to the question that broke the silence. “When the races ended, I escorted her to where Her Grace was standing chatting with an older lady and, I assume, two of your other daughters, who seemed to be younger than Lady Frances. Besides paying my respects to Her Grace, the purpose of my call was to ask permission to keep correspondence with Lady Frances. It would be neither polite nor respectful to do it without her parents’ knowledge and consent”.

What the Lowlander had come to say to the Duchess, he had ended up saying to the Duke. The moment of truth had arrived. Either he would be given permission, or he would not. Alea jacta est.

Edited September 21 by Duncan Melville
Grammar

[Blackguard]

His speculation was proven correct.   "You met her at the races," he repeated softly, mostly to himself.  That was quick.

"That sort of permission comes from my lady wife," the Duke added.  He could grant permission but it was best that his wife scrutinize the man first.  "I am off on an errand but stay here and my man will announce you to the Duchess," he offered.  Not wanting to signal one way or the other, the Duke added "a good day to you."  With that, he left through the door, his servant moving quickly to usher him out and close the door. 

Once done, the servant offered Duncan a seat in the entry area.  "I shall inform Her Grace."  

[Duncan Melville]

"Thank you very much, Your Grace". At least the Duke had not asked his servant to kick Duncan out. That was a good sign. "And a good day to you too", the Lowlander said as he bowed formally. Well, I will get to do what I came here to do, it seems, with the addition of His Grace Newcastle knowing that I am doing it. It was not a bad start, but soldiers that had served in Tangiers had told him that lions were not as dangerous as lionesses when the latter felt their young needed protection. So His Grace Newcastle had been the easy part.

Duncan took the indicated seat, still carrying his boxed gift. "Thank you", he answered simply. The wait. Always the most difficult part of any battle, the wait.

[Blackguard]

The Duke left his suite with a polite farewell.  His mind was on Frances for a time but soon shifted to the other matter he needed to discuss with his son.  Ablemarle was becoming a bad influence on Ogle and he needed, as a father, to do a better job in readying his son for the vagaries of court life.

The servant went in search of Lady Newcastle and it would not be long before the sound of skirts carressing stone floors might be heard approaching.

OOC~ Aria will be taking over.

[Aria]

Lady Newcastle had not expected Lord Melville to call so soon. His timing was rather poor, but she was too curious about him to turn him away. Their conversation would likely be brief but enlightening.

 

She swept into the room, her back straight and her head held high.  The Duchess approved of his appearance. Black was appropriate for a widower and the blue diamonds seemed more a sign of hope for the future than a symbol of status, though perhaps that observation had to do with why she presumed he was here.

 

“Lord Melville.” She greeted him with a regal nod of her head. Her eyes met his though she said nothing more, not wanting to make things too easy for him. Frances deserved the best, after all.

[Duncan Melville]

As soon as he heard the shuffle of skirts, Duncan stood up, just in time for the arrival of the Duchess. "Your Grace..." Duncan bowed deeply and formally. "Please forgive me if I have called at an inappropriate moment". The Viscount understood that the many Cavendish daughters would need a long time to get ready. "I will be brief, but first please accept a token of my respect".

The Dukes of Newcastle were very, very rich. Lord Ogle would be married to who was possibly the richest heiress in the realm, which would add to the Dukedom's wealth. So, any gift had to be symbolic, like the one the Lowlander presented. He just hoped it would not be seen as offensive. The box* was presented, with the expectation that a servant would receive it from the Scot.

* An oiled French black walnut box, filled with an assortment of various nougats, sugared almonds of different colours, and assorted flavoured chocolate bonbons.

[Aria]

Lord Melville’s bow was deep and respectful and his apology seemed sincere. He had known that she would be preparing for Masque and yet he had come anyway. Was he so eager for permission to court Frances that he couldn’t wait a day or two? Lady Newcastle silently commended his persistence.

 

One elegantly-shaped eyebrow rose as he presented her with the box he had brought with him. A liveried servant stepped forward and took it from him, turning to his mistress and opening the lid so that she could view its contents. A selection of sweets were nestled inside. It was an innocuous and appropriate gift, not too ostentatious nor hurriedly prepared.

 

The servant bowed and took the box away. “Thank you, Lord Melville. You are very thoughtful.” Since a gift had been presented, it was expected that a request would follow.

[Duncan Melville]

"Your grace", he began, "meeting Lady Frances yesterday was an unexpected delight..." it was true. Duncan's mood had improved noticeably, so much so that his valet had commented that morning that his master had slept much better than he had in many weeks. "After conversing with her, I could easily see that she is a lady of firm character and impeccable upbringing". To the Viscount, women of character were to be preferred. "I would ask your permission to get to know her better by keeping correspondence with her. I would not dream to do so without your approval and consent".

There, he had said it. It was now out of his hands. The Duchess would agree or disagree, but the Lowlander had done his part. What would be was in the hands of Providence.

[Aria]

Instead of asking to court Frances, Lord Melville wished to correspond with her. In Lady Newcastle’s opinion, it was a sagacious request. He was still grieving for his late wife and was not ready to commit to another marriage so soon. She also liked the way he described her favorite daughter. It seemed that he admired her confidence and inner strength. Some gentlemen didn’t appreciate those traits in a potential life partner. Frances was not meek and complacent and she needed a husband who understood that and didn’t try to force her into conforming to standards that would stifle her.

 

“I will not deny your request, but I feel that I need to know more about you before I grant it. Visit me Monday morning and we will talk further. As for the Masque tonight, you may share one dance with her as is proper, but please do not monopolize her time. Dance and mingle with others as well.  The two of you were seen at the yacht race together and you know how tongues wag at court."  There had already been too many rumors surrounding Frances this season, though it was possible that Lord Melville had not heard them.