Basinstoke Estate





Ard and Payton were summoned from their sitting room, being told that there was a Constable from Scottland Yard wishing an audience with them. Rushing through the halls from their personal area, they'd soon arrive to the lower level of the Plantation house, where Jerek Franklin stood in wait.

Jerek glanced up as he noticed the flurry of activity directed towards him. A grim look upon his face as he watched the Master and Mistress of the house hurry his way. Turning to face them, his hands clasped behind his back.

Payton wanted to faint when she seen the look upon the Constable's face. A grim look would mean the news he bore would be equally so. She just knew this in her heart. Her hand quickly reached out for Ard's arm in need of steadiment. Suddenly she was finding it hard to breath and her heart was racing as if about to explode in her chest.

The look on the lawman's face, then the feel of Payton's hand upon his arm, both had him steeling himself for what ever news they were about to learn of. Leading his wife to where the Constable stood, a moment taken to gain his wind. "Top o' the morn t' ye Constable Franklin. Me servant said ye 'ave some news for us." Trying to remain calm, if for nothing else, for Payton's sake.

"Master Basinstoke, Mistress." Curt nod of his head to the Lord and Lady of the house. "Yes, I come bearing news. I would consider it to be good news, if nothing else. We've received a letter from your daughter. When you hadn't appeared at the Yard, we figured you had not received one yourself." Hands unclasped from behind him, he'd then withdraw the evelope from an inside breast pocket. This he would offer to Ard, though he was looking at Payton. "Your daughter is fine and well, Mistress. Now you can rest well at night." That said, a bow from his waist and then stood. "We have marked this case as closed with positive results. Those who offered us up the information that was based on lies, have been prosecuted. We're positive they were after your reward, and why they produced such a horrid story. The distress they put you through will be vindicated." That said, he'd nod to each in turn. "Good day." His job completed, he'd turn without further word. Leaving them to the letter now in the Master's hand.

Hearing it was good news, she felt a flood of relief rush through her. No sooner had the letter be placed in Ard's hand, she wanted badly to reach out and snag it, to read it for herself, but she wouldn't do that to embarass Ard before the Constable. Though no sooner had the man left, she turned to face him, quite anxious to learn of the letter's content. "What does it say?"

He was at a loss for words, to say the least. His daughter was fine and well, having written a letter to Scottland Yard and not her family who was frantic over her disappearance" All he could do was nod in return and stare at the letter that he held. Torn between relief and anger. No words were given the man in departing as he just stood there. Drawn from his thoughts by his wifes question. A glance up at her, then slowly he opened the envelope that encased the letter. For some reason he felt as if he didn't wish to learn what it had to say. In fact, he could barely make out the words on the parchment, as his eyes teared. He couldn't explain it, perhaps it was the rush of raw emotion. What ever the reason, wordless still, he'd hand the letter to Payton, letting her read it first.

Seeing the turmoil upon her husband's features and within his now wetted eyes. A hand would move to rest upon his arm and give a reassuring squeeze. Accepting the letter offered, she'd then turn her head to read the words penned by her baby daughters own hand.....



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To the Constable of Scottland Yard,

Upon having brought to my attention the most astounding story I had ever heard, I am forced to send to you this letter of explaination. I am Carlotta Estelle Basinstoke, the very woman that the Gazette has listed as being a victim of some piracy. I know not where such a flamboyant story was created from, nor if this falsety was placed in order to gain wealth and or recognition.

I assure you that the story you have been told is quite untrue (Lie). I am fine and well. I keep residence where I'm employed as the manager of the ports upscale inn.

I was not abducted as the story reads (Lie), but left on my own to leave the place that was once home. I beg you to not inform my family of where I am, but I know that you'd not do such a thing, in order to put their minds at ease, and perhaps to even follow up on this letter sent to prove it's validity.

When you see my parents, tell them I am fine and well, and that I intend to remain where I am. I am also informing you of this as well, so there will be no mistaking that this is my choice. I also ask that a retraction of that story also be made and clarification of that which was printed was nothing more than a fabrication.

Sincerally

Carlotta Estelle Basinstoke



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She read the letter several times over, more the part of her request of not telling her family of where she was. It was as if someone plunged a dagger in her heart and twisted. The letter fluttered from her hand to land upon the floor. Eyes now teary with the pain she was feeling within. "What did we do, Ard" What did we do that was so horrible, that our daughter feels she needs to hide from us?"

"Hide from us?" His wife's words drew that inner anger a bit forward more. Stooping to snag up the letter, he read it over several times before it was wadded up and tossed aside. Without a word spoken, he turned on his heel. Making way to his den where the door was slammed closed, and locked.

Lost and confused as to what was going on. Payton did what any mother would under the circumstances. Turn and flee to her room, flinging herself upon her bed where she would lay and begin to sob. A mixture of emotions rushing through her. Later would come the task of trying to make sense of all of this.

Eolus Blunt had never been to court, per say. However, as he considered it, he had plenty of experience with court, having acted the parts of nobles, even kings (and several times queens, come to it) up and down the theaters of England. So, this" This was nothing. He now acted the part of the humble and yet dashing playwright: himself. With this in mind, he came up to the guards, and greeted them with a polite good-evening, followed by a brisk statement of his intentions. "I am seeking an audience with his Majesty, the Venerable King Henry," he said, absently adjusting a small jeweled button on this coat. The guards exchanged looks: another popinjay to waste the king's time, right. With a cursory nod to his fellow, the first guard stepped forward. "Might be he has time," he said. "And I can take you up to wait. No weapons are allowed." And, so it transpired that Eolus surrendered both his daggers, one from his boot, one from his belt, and was led up to the Renaissance chamber to await the king.

If one was to stand noticed in their chosen field, much work did it entail. The position of Barrister was not an easy field to gain access to, let alone recognition. Not saying it was an area hard to learn, that only those of great minds could endeavor it's path; on the contrary. If you had common sense, an ease to learn ever changing laws, and know how to manipulate people, an easy enough trade it could be. Being a woman who sought this position of prestige, that was quite a barrier to over-come; though it thwarted her efforts not. The vast library that rested within the castle confines is where she would eventually end. Seeking the permission needed to read the laws that now governed this Sovereignty. Laws of the land were easy enough, quite well laid out even with additions and subtractions to those prior. It was that fine line that separated church and state that would be tedious. This land, like so many others were governed by two sets of laws; Those of the King as head of state, and those of the King as head of church. Upon the rising of the sun had seen her within those shelved walls of leather bound bibles in a sense. Moving about the room as shadows shifted with the positioning of the sun, to gain the best light to read by. Soon enough, the strain of eyes by reading by candle light would take it's toll, a need to take a break would force her from her world of books and into the main hall. Adorned in a simple gown of forest green velvet; accented by ribbons of ebony, she'd begin the slow steps that carried her along. Fingers had long since plucked the reading spectacles from their rest upon bridge of features and now held betwixt fingers of right hand. Free hand rose to lightly rub the strain felt within eyes for a moment, then focus shifted to the distance before her as she continued this stroll.

The Court was in full glory this evening, and if there was one member of His Majesty's entourage who might have been inclined to displeasure or boredom - they were quick to conceal such emotion as the King himself strode toward the Great Hall. Naturally, many would view the man as imposing, due not to his stature but of course the title he owned. With frequency, Henry seemed to speak unbidden, words that were often times harsh and riddled with his increasing frustration. The constant and unwavering fuel to his fire was currently the inability Wolsey demonstrated regarding his Sire's much desired divorce from Katherine. However, the day had dawned to see Henry in a rare display of good humor, and as his brisk pace led him to the festivities, there was a wide grin lining his thin lips. Greetings were returned for the most part, echoed by a deep throttle of laughter that vibrated against the stone walls of his home. He was dressed warmly, in a dark green doublet and beige breeches that accentuated his athletic form. Just before the entrance to the Hall, he was forced to pause as a young Lady crossed before his path . Straightening, he watched her, noting how deeply her nose was buried within her reading material. "That direction," He began, his voice lit with humor. "will lead you to the court..." He continued, plucking the book easily from her grasp. "..yard. And, had I enough competent barristers, I might allow you to risk illness." His grin faltered slightly. "Considering that I do not, you'll have to take your pleasure within the castle this evening." Though he was now frowning, it was not at all directed toward the young woman. Stepping back, he extended his arm - an inviting gesture that pointed her directly to the Great Hall. When the call came regarding their visitor < Eolus >, Henry shifted to face away from her slightly and snapped. "Shall I go fetch him myself!?" Of course the young servant bolted without further encouragement.

Boisterous arguing could be heard bouncing off the cobblestone roadway. One voice rising loudly in rash tones, the other attempting to calm his comrade. It had drawn several pairs of eyes in their loud pair's direction. Children would look wide eyes while pointing stubby fingers in the direction of the commotion. Mothers paused in their strides as the man dead center of the two arguing loudly seemed, oddly silent. Wearing a dark patchy jacket with bellowing sleeves, a wide leather belt with black leather pants and cuffed knee high boots, the center man stopped walking. Standing in front of a newly formed crowd his private audience all succumbed to the dueling puppets draped over both his arms. Sure enough both puppets also stopped to look suspiciously at him then back towards the people staring wide eyed. Garan the granted entertainer spoke up, " if you both don't cease this bickering I will be tempted to paint your mouths on the backsides of your heads or on your asses!" This caused ticklish laughter from the children eagerly watching. Garan couldn't help but grin at their hanging on the ventriloquists every word. Suddenly one puppet cussed , which drew gasps and ear handles placed upon the little one's ears. Garans brows bunched together, and as discipline his thumb took to rubbing off the offensive puppets mouth. Applause heard as the puppet would struggle then be muffled and finally giggled into silence. Gar would then bow graciously to his viewers, and drop his hat as well, seeking some coins for his efforts and of course his reward. In the distance lay a castle, his eyes bolted over the patrons heads.....looking to it from a far. ::

Katherine would have wished to have any other than Anne Boleyn trailing her this evening. Though when the King had sent word requesting her to join him in the deliberation over a certain gentleman's wish to come to court....she had been reduced to allowing the only one still lodged within her chambers to accompany her. Katherine had not even attended a court session in months, not since Henry had decided to start this embarrassing harangue over their marriage. Oh, she was not stupid she knew that the bitch Boleyn was behind this...her and that power hungry father of hers, but there was nothing she could truly do to bring the situation to light. Henry had taken a liking to her lady and Henry....always got what he wanted and it mattered little who stood in his way. Narrowed eyes watched the dark haired temptress as she fussed about her Queen's skirts as though she truly gave a damn, her mind reflecting that it would take but one quick thrust of a dagger in her side to end it, though she'd be damned if she'd lose her head over her husbands desires. Straightening into the repose that her station afforded her she moved as quietly as voluminous skirts would allow her toward the door. Anne in close succession behind her and just to the right side. A guard took up pace with them as they exited and they were soon entering the room where Henry would no doubt join them soon. Katherine took her seat Anne bowing low in a curtsey before her as custom would initiate and then taking her place just behind and to the right of her chair. Hands placed demurely upon the back one atop the other, the almost ebony locks falling in ripples upon her shoulders Anne inspected the doorway for any sign of Henry. Eyes the blue of a winter sky focused with brevity and a deep inhale of breath caused her bosom to rise and press against the tightly laced bodice of her gown. Crimson adorned in golden brocade, her hair held in place by a simple black band also traced in gold. She looked particularly dazzling this night. She'd spent months not eluding the King, playing the game that would bring her ever closer to the throne for her father's sake....but in essence her heart was becoming more and more intricately entwined with Henry's.

Moving slightly from behind the chair as soon as Henry entered she went into a deep curtsey, hands grasping either side of her extravagant gown and her head dipped quickly as though to avoid his eyes. It was an action that would go unnoticed seemingly but nonetheless it was done out of propriety and respect and also to keep tongues from further wagging about their relationship. Katherine fussed with her gown and nodded supremely executing a false smile to the Lady that complimented her. The same smile was given all round to the other courtiers that shuffled to her in order to pay their respects. Anne had risen by now as she could feel the heat of the Queen's stare upon her bowed head and it was extremely uncomfortable. Oh, how she'd fought with her father over his bidding to gain Henry's interest, though now that she'd gained his heart and his respect she could not end the cycle that had begun no matter how much she wished she could gain the people's trust and admiration once more. Regardless of what many thought, it did hurt her but Henry....she would never let him go.....not now. Standing fully again she placed her hands upon the back of the chair once more and kept her place though it was hard not to stare at the man. He was the epitome of regal consternation and every move of his body seemed to call to her. She caught her eyes upon his back, they'd lowered slightly so that she could watch him from beneath her lashes hopefully unnoticed.

Henry had been a lifelong companion to he and thus it should have come to no surprise at all of the grand welcome he received upon the King's behalf. Nevertheless head would dip low as he bowed at the waist during the wake of Henry's prance over to him. "The privilege is all mine, truly your majesty" That grin would stretch into a full fledge smile as muscular arms extended outward and accepted the hearty embrace from Henry. With a small clap of the furs against the center of the king back he withdrew and revealed to the man his prize. "I believe I am catching up to you in skins" Blues sparkled with deviousness as he knew the king had always the upper hand when it came to the hunting of game. Attention would fall upon the man who accompanied the King. "Master Playwright you say' I'm sure your coming will grow popular rather quickly" Then he looked to the king, offering the man that all knowing glance. But as his humor drifted he took note of the Queen and behind her still the King's new lover..Anne. Both would be issued a small dip of his head out of sheer respect for Henry and his honor.

Tongues did wag, not only amongst those who kept court, but along the streets, in taverns, and all points in between. Since in a sense it was of some importance for her to know, she would of course had looked further into the allegations being tossed about like a ball between children in a courtyard. Discretion always in place, never doing this openly or making inquires to where questions would be raised. Was it not, after all, the Barristers duty to uphold the laws as well as protect those who wrote them behind a shield they would place" A good one would, and thus she would utilize all available to her. Sometimes one's dark past did aide in matters when it came to utilization of those who remained underground; per say. Those who usually mocked reining power, who escaped the iron fist laid down. As much as they were a hindrance to the denizens of the lands and the nobility upon them; to the likes of her they were a treasure chest of information; along with other uses if a need would arise. Settled amongst the others, idle chatter would be listened to, a chalice in hand lifted to sip from as she idly listened to words shared between those near. Fish wives gossip usually was formulated by a basis of truth, which at times would become inflamed. One had to decipher fact from fiction. Chestnut colored gaze would settle upon the newly arrived, chalice to lower as a polite smile was offered. Though even during her time of eavesdropping, attention would return upon the King. Not the man himself, but that he held in his hold; that book. It was a volume in which the laws of the church were greatly and explicitly explained. Knowing the man's woes with their beliefs and laws, she only hoped he'd not take an interest in it and lose that jovial appearance he offered for all to view; or let alone claim his wrath. It wasn't that she followed such, for if that was the truth she'd not needed to have studied. Her own beliefs never offered in a topic of conversation, safer that way.

"Indeed," Henry said, grinning broadly as his gaze flickered down the man's length. There was a devious light in his eyes, a spark that hinted at wicked or humorous intentions that were soon to come. "I tell you what, my good man," He said, pausing briefly to cover his mouth with his fist to muffle his laughter. "You perform for me, one service, and the entire Kingdom will know you as the King's own playwright." The corner of his lips curled, as he cut his eyes toward the Duke at his side and hefted the heavy book into his comrade's chest. He released his hold on the item, forcing Andrew to either grab hold of it, or allow it to fall to the floor at their feet. "You engage this man," He brought his other palm swinging around to connect soundly with the novel, indicating Buckingham. "in a friendly bout of wrestling." Stepping back, he his clapped his forearm, indicating that it would be arm wrestling match only. "There's no man yet to best him, and his confidence grates my patience." Though, it was true, the words were offered in good humor before he applauded loudly, gaining the entire attention of those present. Numerous eyes began to travel to the duo, as the King tilted his head toward them, askance of their approval before his glance moved onward, toward the Queen, who gained an inclination of his chin in greeting. The smile he'd given freely to the rest of the Court vanished upon sight of her, but it gained ground again, once his gaze flickered behind her, toward Anne. This time, the dip of his head was prolonged, and he seemed to bend - though just slightly - at the waist, offering her a gesture that not even his Queen had gained, subtle though it was. Already, men were cheering on Buckingham and Blunt, placing wagers evenly on the men, spurring them on.

" How many blades do you want to hold onto' " :: The Entertainer looked up at the tower's guardsman. His hat slumped over onto one side of his head: Limp and to the left. His gaze would lift to the gate keeper as grotesque images covered him in cresting shadows of night vision. Disjointed views flooded through his imagination, before being discharged. His finger continued to tap the leather strap holding his sack at his side. Impatient, he'd pull out two blades. Holding them up for inspection, :: " This blade is from my uncle Beowulf, he claimed he never missed a target. This other one's from my cousin Sidney, he was the target God rest his soul. " :: Shaking his left boot, his jostled left to right as if vibrating. Reaching down he'd pull free from his left boot a small flip knife. :: " Father McDougal claimed he used this one for fruit peeling." :: Shrugging he'd drop it next to the other blades. Reaching round his back, he'd grunt as his arm stretched upward, :: " This one's from a lady, she use to scratch my back with it, and shave it too." :: That'd make 4, he'd look to the guard, :: " Ah, good nuff" "

With but a small grunt arms quickly extended forward perhaps out of due reflex as the heavy text landed harshly into the mid-section of his hard packed chest. Curiousness and uneasiness settled upon his face while blues looked around at the faces of those now applauding both he and the playwright. Just what did Henry have up his sleeve this time" Though it was against all of the caliber inside of him a blush swept along the sharp edges of his cheeks as he gave a reluctant nod in the direction of the king. Andrew was quite the competitor as it would seem and also he knew of Henry's growing annoyance towards his victory. "I wouldn't go as to that extreme, your majesty" A deep sigh was exhaled as he pushed the cover outward for Eolus to rest his elbow upon. "Are you ready?" Though the Duke did not wish to arm wrestle he would not refuse a desire of the King. Right elbow pressed firmly against the covering while long digits waved for a moment into the wind to ease the tension that lied within his knuckles. Blues were now fixated upon the playwright.

Eolus, for his part, had a certain steel to him. He suspected that he was going to lose - he did not intend to lose easily. Honestly, though, he wasn't foolish enough to really want to best one of the King's favorites and his social superior in full view of the court. Initially, aware of the audience, he continued with his silly bravado as he clasped hands with the Duke and the contest began, shaking his head as the man pitted his considerable strength against his own, as if dismayed by how easily it was to resist the force of it. Then, playfully, he began to let the expression slip with exaggeration enough to be comical, melting his smug smile into a frown, and pretending to give little unhelpful nudges in the other direction. Then, sighing, he grinned wryly and put his back into the contest. This, for a moment, not only stopped the Duke's press of his hand back, but nudged the noble's arm back some of the distance it had gained. It was a desperate effort, though. Slowly, inexorably, with a tedious back and forth straining, Eolus's hand was forced back, back, until he had no leverage whatsoever, and his hand was slammed summarily against the table. He concealed a wince with a smile. "How do the knights say it' I yield, I yield, — please have mercy?"

Without realization she had done so, the seat was abandoned when she stood. A need of elevation as the crowd grew and pressed about the two, hindering her own vision of the event unfolding. Back and forth it seemed to go, one would gain ground only to lose it a moment later. At one point she honestly thought the playwright was going to win, and then it all ended with the Duke's forward press to pin the man's hand down. Her hands to rise and applaud along with the other's when defeat was not only noticed, but vocalized by the playwright. He seemed to be a good sport about the situation, noted by the humor offered in words uttered forth. The crowd offered their congratulations to the victor as well as condolences to the Duke's opposition. Few would linger, other's to return to the festivities, and she would not reclaim her seat, but ease her way to where the men competed to collect that heavily bound book before it disappeared. Easing through the crowd, she'd await both men to lift arms and quick she'd be to stake her claim

The noise and bustle of the busy room dimmed for Henry, when she turned to face him. He had ached for her, to see her, and to hold her. She was the one thing he wanted most. He had never fancied himself in love with Katherine, he'd been young when they'd married and ...he'd believed it the right thing to do. Now, with no male heir to secure his dynasty, he believed with every fiber of his being, that he'd gone against God and married his brothers wife, in every sense of the word. Anne..she was his destiny. She was England's true Queen, he knew this now. While he held her close, and listened to her words, he read the plea in her eyes and ...did not allow her reprieve. He refused to loosen his grasp upon her, though his thumb did trace a path along her intricately embroidered sleeve. He was frowning now, drinking from her lovely countenance and had no care for propriety. He WAS the King after all! As if to emphasize this silent statement, he turned a glower toward those encroaching courtiers, who did not last long in their eavesdropping. "Anne," He whispered her name with yearning as he slid his wrist beneath her chin, and eased it high. "You know how I feel, my sentiment has not changed. Let that be enough to bolster your pride and courage, for no other woman can climb as much." Arrogant' Of course, he was the King. And, as such, he damned sure didn't care who saw what. . . they could all think what they liked, but well knew to mind their tongues in his presence. Careless" Sadly, yes. His wrist flickered, and a finger coated in grape juice extended to graze across her lips. "Stay with me?" He asked, and meant - don't ever leave. In the distance, he heard the roar of the crowd, as cheer was exclaimed and currency exchanged. It appeared the match was over. Finally, he released her, though it was with great reluctance, and stepped back. Allowing her to either take her leave, or join in the festivities..at his side. Damn all, but Buckingham best had not be the victor!

Be damned the hot tears that wanted to come and she blinked thrice before finally coaxing them to stay behind her lids. King he was...her King, her future husband if she played it right and so she straightened her back, lifted her chin high and even as his finger traced along her soft lips they parted and eyes closed briefly as her tongue swept out to snatch a secret taste . A shiver ran along her entire body, like a foal newly born in the dew of a winter morn and she nodded. "I'll stay....I'll never leave you." The words were no more than a whisper though they held the weight as though they'd been shouted from the highest parapet's of the castle. Fighting still not to lean into him it was all she could do to open her eyes and give in to the strength he supplied her. Others were watching now with knowing eyes and sneering lips yet she cared not and suddenly turned her own fierce glare upon them as though challenging them to speak a word against her as her Champion and King were there to challenge them all. She knew this man, he'd not sway to send any to the chopping block for one wrong word against her. Suddenly with renewed vigor she grasped the hand that had lingered and kissed it while turning to tuck her arm safely within his. "For tonight at least I'll take my rightful place...."

Wolsey was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to pacify his majesty regarding the Pope's disinterest abroad. Henry was determined to be heard, and get exactly what he wanted in the process. In fact, the slightest suggestion that the King might not have his way in this matter, usually was received with an angry tirade from his majesty. Thus, as one can imagine, the Cardinal was tense as he entered the hall, already preparing himself for the duel that was to come. Often, he could soothe young Henry and ...sway the King to his inclination. But ...Wolsey was no fool, he knew he was losing Henry's favor with each passing minute that he did not produce the divorce papers. The hem of his crimson robe dusted the floor as the Cardinal moved deeper into the room. Like those around him, he began to clap, and forced his lips into a wide, teeth baring grin that ...almost appeared frightening.

Frightening was a word that fairly under described the Cardinal. To Jane he was horrid, and with each passing day she had to force herself to keep pace with him and do his bidding no matter how much she hated his fondling of her. He was like a withered piece of dried fruit that was fermenting to the point of repulsiveness. Not even a drop of good wine could be gotten from this man and her own happiness from her station was that it allowed her the chance to dally about with the rest of the King Henry's fine court. As soon as she'd entered the room, she'd found a way to get far from him and make herself scarce though it would seem quite by accident she had found herself back in the vicinity of the man she now viewed as her captor. Quickly trying to duck out of sight she twisted away in feigned devotion to a gentleman that came toward her. Grasping him unceremoniously by the arm and trying her damndest to engage him in conversation before Wolsey could find her and begin his pawing upon her. Just the thought of him even looking at her made her shiver with disgust.

Eolus, for his part, withdrew gracefully from the table after the Duke had said his piece. He straightened, lowered his sleeve modestly back over his arm, and carefully stretched and folded his fingers, reassuring himself that they were in fine working order. They were, despite his recent exertions. With a sigh, he smiled to himself, and turned to locate the King who'd put him up to it. He was calm, actually, and rather pleased with the show he'd put on. He could only hope that his Majesty felt the same - His eyes narrowed dubiously. Where was Henry'

Once book was back in her possession, a sigh of relief would be set loose. Easing back through the crowd, nearly heading into the path of the Cardinal and accompaniment. Easily she'd shift in direction, keeping clear of the man's presence. Back into the thong of the crowd she'd make her way, easing through with soft pardons as she passed. Making way back to her seat, the book set down and she'd plant herself atop it. One way to make sure it didn't get lost or ruined, especially containing the laws of the church within. If anything happened to it while in her care, she shuddered at the thought of repercussion. That wouldn't be a problem now, so relaxed she became, reclaiming her chalice of wine and engaging in the small talk that occasionally drifted towards her. Although focus would be in a different area altogether, and in this an idea had began to form. One she'd have to research into, it had as many possibilities as well as being plausible if she was right. Before anything would be spoken on the matter, she'd have to ensure it was flawless first.

Henry took great care to tuck Anne's hand safely upon his arm, before he too joined the applause and approached the duo. "Very well done!" He chuckled, before pausing directly before the playwright. "I'll not deny my wish slipped awry with the Duke's victory, but my word has been sealed." Eolus, aware of it or not, had just climbed quite high in the King's esteem and being a vocal man, Henry was quick to show his newfound appreciation. "Hear me now," He began, shouting a bit to carry his words over the noise of the crowd. "Before me, is the King's own Playwright, Mr. Blunt!" His statement was rewarded with increased cheer, and it was apparent that by that decree, Eolus would be the man of the hour. "Mr. Blunt, the Lady Anne Boleyn." He said, glancing back to the man before him. "If she has a desire for the art, we must see her pleasure fulfilled." He said, tenderly closing his fingers around hers to urge her forward.

Eolus tipped his head to the side as the King approached, and allowed his smile to return at the man's praise. Yes, it has been very well done, and he was pleased that this fact was duly recognized. He was less certain that the man actually meant to make him the King's own playwright. After all, he rather doubted Henry had ever seen or heard one of his plays. While he knew their quality himself, he did not presume that the King had such knowledge. Thus, his brows raised with some surprise when he was indeed declared - just that. His eyes lost their lidded look, glittering bright as the crowd cheered. Well, well, well! He bowed as modestly as he could manage. "I am honored, your Majesty." It was well that he was bowing, too, because it meant that his disconcertion did not show when the Lady that Henry introduced was not the Queen. He was observant enough, and the tension between those two was anything but subtle to a keen eye. He shrugged philosophically and directed a bow to the Lady, too. "I am your humble servant in all his Majesty wishes, Lady."

Unexpecting of this sudden thrust into the spotlight, though she should have realized as much would happen even as she was upon the King's arm. Prim smiles and demure glances had kept their place upon her features as she'd listened to the King's decree and was suddenly ushered forth as though she were already the Queen of England. Anne chose once again to repair possible damages as many were still watching them with vapid eyes filled with anger. "I am sure that you will do his Majesty a great justice....and think of my needs not....it is the good Queen Katherine that will find your entertainment most useful I assure you." She executed a humble curtsey and then turning gave Henry one as well. A moment before she'd told him she'd not leave him and yet now she was so angered at how he displayed her to all as though a crown already sat atop her head. Did he not realize that a he was still a very married man!" How could he bring such weight upon her and expect her to take it so graciously when there was another party involved that already hated her for the fact his eye was set strongly upon her. Turning quickly she left the hall before he could speak a word in protest with only one explanation hastily thrown over her shoulder. "I must see to her royal Highness the Queen. Good eve to you all." She disappeared quickly from the hall.

" Most excellent..." Wolsey breathed, as his beady eyes fell upon ( CE ). He watched her openly, folding his fingers beneath his chin before his tongue slid from it's confines, to swipe across his dry lips. He rocked on the balls of heel, until he was a swaying mass that was only slightly removed from the courtiers nearest. For a man of the faith, his gaze certainly took liberty, lowering over her swaying hips before trailing over her upper body. He would have liked to stay there and watch for a moment longer, but Jane crossed before the line of his vision and he had ...very important business to discuss with that one. Amazing, that someone of his size could move with such stealth. He easily cornered her, trapping her between his frame and a table that was laden with food. He reached around her slender frame, as though interested in a piece of sweet meat, forcing some of his weight into her back as he did so. "Jaaaane." He had a way of saying her name..hissing it really..so there could be no doubt whom was speaking. Bending over her shoulder, the Cardinal inhaled deeply, consuming the scent of her.

The boy was young...Juvenile in believing no harm could have reached him no matter the protection of leather pads he wore. As a result of his ignorance he founded himself pierced in the abdomen by the very thing he and his companion practiced with...An arrow. The pain seared through out his body and caused a labored breath to spill between thin lips of pale discoloration. Shouts from his comrade were lost in the sea of his own panic while depth of the sky watched other boys race over to him and offer assistance. Then came the calls of the young man groomed to be King..Henry leapt immediately off his horse when he realized who had been wounded. "Andrew. Your Grace can you hear me"!" Heavy lashes fluttered for but a moment as the Duke realized he was day dreaming right there in the center of the most public halls within the castle of Henry..With a clear of his throat he gave a nod. "Of course I can" Brows pressed tightly together as a sweep of annoyance came over him. Lengthy legs flexed between the tight breeches as he moved onward with a casual pace so that the shorter man at his side would not have to run to catch up with him. Hands curled backward while long digits inner locked at the lower cord of his back. Though they were not at all alone Andrew paid little attention to the women and lesser lords that discussed there affairs of Henry's reign. "I do not trust Henry's Clergy..The Cardinal is a snake in the court of our King!" Words were hissed as he confessed to the man...After all how could this man repeat the Duke's words..He was a mute.

Once again, the coming of the dawn would find her within the vast confines of the library. The King's own words had spurned her on, to learn all she could to be the best able. She'd not wish any to claim her incompetent. Again the waning light would bring to close her day of research. Her idea was becoming fruitful, it was plausible to say the least. The only thing she couldn't figure out, was how the transition could take place without a great upset, without coming to an all out war. Shadows cast heavily over the dark wood of shelves, tables and leather bounds. Those three special, would be stacked and bound only to have their weight handed over to the Paige that awaited her request. "Take these to my carriage, place them upon the seat and cover them with the blanket." A pause before she'd add. "It's to keep the leather from getting too cold and splitting." Good enough reasoning to offer the boy, who probably didn't care one way or another. Spectacles plucked from bridge of nose to be placed within it's velvet holder then slipped into the pocket of skirt. This evening she wore the colors of the earth. Forest greens laid over that of rich browns. Accented with ebon and gold brocade. Long black mane drawn back into a bun rested at the base of skull and covered with a white pearl encrusted net. The boy was quickly off to do her bidding, and she would exit the library to stroll down the hall. At least this time she wasn't nose buried in a book as she moved. Notes she made were clenched tightly in hand, the question now was, whom could she possibly speak to of this" Who could she trust' When it came to the matters of the Court, but most of all the Church, one had to be very careful.

Perched like an ornament of masculinity upon one of the arches etched into the stone of the Georgian Route was the Duke of Cornwall, Titus Jasper. One long leg propped precariously atop the stone, back resting against the outcropping of stone and his opposite leg was stretched completely out so that the tip of his boot touched the opposite wall. His right arm rested upon his bent knee and he was currently entertaining a beautiful blonde. Likely one of the Queen's ladies. His words were muted but the look in his eye and the way his lips moved in sensuous ways, let alone the maiden's laughter could clearly denote one thing.....he was not speaking politics. His hand lifted and reached for hers about to draw her in when he saw someone coming. Unable to tell from a distance who it was he quickly released her and sat up a bit straighter just in case it was the Queen. Henry posed no threat, nor did Andrew but Katherine had long viewed him as supremely uncouth and the epitome of evil. It actually amused Titus and there were times he actually sought to be just as outrageous as he possibly could to get under her skin. Though he always held respect for her, whether she liked him or not. The afternoon sun was just departing and it had served to warm the day just enough to melt a bit of the newly fallen snow. Though no doubt, there would be more tonight. The glint of rays passed upon his doublet causing the gold and red threading to stand out for a moment as he turned bringing both legs down until booted feet touched the stone floor of the passage, then stood. "I must bid you farewell my lady." The girl looked crestfallen but gave the proper respects as she turned to leave. His gaze focused upon the two that were approaching quite fast.

Broad shoulders dipped as the man following him issued a small, but irritating poke to his forearm. "Wait" That single word spoke volumes to the temper that began to burn inside of him. Then came another, more intense poke. "What!" Head turned while blues were cast higher above the man..Why did they naturally shift there he had truly no idea. But, for a split second he took note of Jane prancing out of one room and into another..Just what the hell was she up to this time" Boots still moved even though his focus was upon the upper level and, with a small bump he founded himself literally directly face to face with Titus. Jaw tensed as he turned on the breaks before completely colliding with the man. Quickly looking at his companion a faint but distinct grin of deviousness spilled across his visage. "Good evening, Titus" Heels rolled his posture backwards as he tried to cover up this rather clumsy act. "Are the ladies entertaining enough this night?"

"You're one to talk, I saw who just left the parlor and crossed your path nearly causing you to set us both upon the floor on our asses. I thought you said she caused you headaches and stomach pains, last we spoke you told me you had rather sit in a pan of hot ash newly taken from the grates before even thinking about her....so what?s changed?" Curiosity played on his visage and caused his brow to furrow as he removed his hand from the wall that he'd used to steady himself from what could have proven a nasty fall. Though he'd not forget he was seeking an answer, he did glance past Andrew's shoulder to see another lady wandering down toward them. Dark haired, even from far away he could see the beauty she possessed and felt his loins stir, brunettes...his favorite. Though he maintained his present position and looked back to Andrew imploringly. "Come man....out with it, your eyes actually followed her this time and perhaps moved beyond just the view of the back of her head." He had a feeling Andrew would deny the entire thing and with such passion it would likely leave a welts if he did not move back a few steps....which was exactly what he did.

Looking at Andrew a bit strangely he muttered, the Cheshire grin still firmly implanted upon his features. "Of course she hasn't....nothing at all." His arm left Andrew's shoulders and as it came down his hand flew back lightly catching Andrew in the gut right in the spot where he'd caught him with an arrow when they had been no more than ten. It was only just reward for the rib jolt he'd just given him. As the Lady Carlotta introduced herself Titus moved forward just slightly so that he could listen more intently. "Win" Another one?" His brow raised he glanced back to Andrew yet again. "Who did you put down this time?" Notorious for his challenges or being challenged it was an everyday thing for the Buckingham Duke to have yet another notch placed upon his belt. A belt that by now Titus would think was getting too big. His question would go unnoticed and even forgotten by him as he turned his attention back to Carlotta. Titus nearly winced as she mentioned the Church and State, right now the two were not getting along so very well and it was a sore subject. Better she ask them than Henry though, he was never in a mood to discuss such at this time. His request of annulment from Katherine still in denial and mostly on behalf of the recent victory of her brother Charles. He'd taken the Pope prisoner to an extent, having him locked in the Vatican in order to help maintain his sister's place a bit longer. Glancing again at Andrew he decided to be quiet and let him take this matter.

A small puff of air was exhaled upon the impact of Titus hand to his stomach and with a small grin Andrew stepped forward and out of the Duke of Cornwall's reach. His face would, however turn sour when Carlotta brought mention to the Church and State. His expression could have easily matched that of Titus but, unlike his counterpart it was Buckingham that issued a reply. "Yes well...Both are currently on thin ice with one another and, for your own personal safety I advise that you keep your theories away from the ear shot of our King." Her congratulations of his victory was his safety cushion to quickly change the subject..And so, without hesitation he did so. "Thank you..Your phrase means much, Lady Carlotta." Chin lowered as he offered her a respectful nod. His gaze lifted from her to favor his comrade. "His majesty thought it would be entertaining the other night if I were to arm wrestle our newest playwright" Giving a nod while he completed his statement. "And, like a few other times in the past I tried to lose and yet still won." A smile slowly crept it's way along the edges of his lips..It was more Cheshire than sincere.

The Duke of Buckingham's words would have her gaze settle upon for a long moment, then her soft response. "Yes, I know. It's the basis behind my studies." Leaving it at that. If the man is true to the King and his wants, her words might be cryptic, but offered a volume of information to any who picked up on them. That topic now passed over as the Duke spoke about his victory. "It was close on several occasions." Even if the playwright did make a bit of a spectacle of himself with facial features and all. "For one who tried to lose, you won quite competently." A bit of a tease of her own, daring it was towards a man of such station. Smile ebbed into a bit of a grin, then fully recovered as that smile was back in play. "He nearly broke the man's arm." Informing Titus, even if that wasn't so, it was how the playwright made it seem. "Had the poor man begging for mercy, he did!"

The topic changed he felt a bit more comfortable and decided now would be as good a time as any to poke fun at Andrew. "Yes, he enjoys breaking arms....in fact I have seen times he has jumped from his horse even in jousts and attacked the poor man while still upon the ground....grasping his arm with intent to break it on purpose. " He leaned forward playfully and spoke close to her ear. "He enjoys inflicting pain...." With a nod he moved back again and glanced at Andrew giving him narrowed eyes. He'd just hugely exaggerated of course and now he only needed wait for Andrew to save his good name. A game they played" Titus thought he detected some interest the lady had in the Duke of Buckingham and so was doing as he always did, trying to push it further. Andrew was often far too serious, to the point that it actually pissed Titus off. There were times you could all but sit a woman upon his lap and he'd still pretend she wasn't there at all. Suddenly too he had an infatuation with Jane" That had to be changed and quickly, so yes, Titus would forego his own exploits and charms on this one allowing Andrew to take the spotlight. However, his own eyes roamed the halls for one in particular that seemed to be absent from court or hiding from him.....the Marchioness of Suffolk, Rebecca.

It had come to be this night as though the general theme was to attack the Duke of Buckingham! There teases were met head on by that still planted Cheshire grin along with a small but distinct blush creeping it's way along the sharp bone of his cheeks. He would not boast about his accomplishments, unlike his companion and thus as Carlotta spoke of his competence he merely shook his head with but a small chuckle to offer proof to his humor. "I did not. Almost break his arm..But I would have been very tempted had my opponent been Titus and not the playwright!" With the speed of a panther upon the hunt Andrew tossed his right arm across Titus shoulders and drew him inward for a headlock. Andrew had height on the man and thus his movement was agile and swift. "Whatever he says to you? Blues looked straight at the woman while Titus whispered into her ear. "Don't believe a word" This statement was, of course almost mouthed than spoken out loud. "And you should talk..Inflicting pain upon others is your expertice..It's right up there with your ..Lame jokes and lack alcohol intake!" Ah a challenge perhaps" For the first time in a while Andrew was finding himself contented by such badgering and even issued his own acts of playfulness. Titus was such a BAD influence!

Titus would be way off base, by a thousand miles in thinking the young Barrister held any interest. They were men of the court, and even though she was as well, she had no interest in those she called peathingys behind their backs. Such outbursts within her home when she and her parents argued, usually had the house staff giggling and tittering behind hands. She listened to Titus' words and a glance spared in his direction before Andrew's move would only solidify the man's comment. Her smile never wavered, it remained perfectly in place. "By what I've witnessed here between the two of you, I'd say it's a mutual act." Glint of amusement did appear within chestnut pools. "I should be on my way, I have obligations I must see to." She still had the books of the plantation to go over before she found her bed this night. Soon enough taxes would be due, and she had to ensure no errors so that her father didn't pay too much, nor too little. "It was a pleasure to make both your acquaintances, and I do hope you don't bruise each other too much." This time she couldn't hide that grin of amusement and a forward tip of her head offered in respect. "A fair evening I bid to you both." She'd turn then, shifting of hands to bring that scroll to her front, keeping it from open view of the two. Still unsure if trust could be placed, and she wasn't going to make any mistakes. Down the hall she'd now make her way, to eventually find her carriage and be taken home.

"Ah, pity he's not a duck in truth, for it would make the distinguishing of you the easier. As stands, I shall say 'Your Grace,' and not know which I address, for doubtless you are peers in grace." He rolled a hapless look toward the ceiling, as if in appeal to God, and then leveled a look back on the pair of Dukes. He grinned slightly and wiggled the fingers of his arm that he'd wrestled Buckingham with. "Alas, my poor arm has been sapped of all its strength by that furious contest. It's fit only for writing plays, now." He affected a woebegone expression. "It is delight itself to meet you, your Grace of Cornwall," he added solicitously. For all his eyes were lowered in the semblance of politeness, he studied the both of them closely. Childhood friend, hmn" That showed, all right. And remarkably, both seemed to possess friendly dispositions. He smiled. "I am well. Indeed, I am excellent. And I shall endeavor, heart and soul, mind and body, to be interesting, for what other use are plays" And how are you gentlemen?"

The castle served as a fortress against the freezing temperature outdoors where, it seemed to Thomas, it was growing colder by the second. The companion at his elbow, his personal secretary, leaned into him and spoke in a raspy whisper which was quickly followed by an almost feminine giggle. The Marquis of Winchester, Thomas Kent to most, also offered a sign of his mirth, doubling slightly and laughing into his palm. It was usually noted, by his peers, how the man kept in such excellent fashion, often times sporting finer attire then his lovely wife. He took great care with his coiffure, and as a result, the dewy brown locks hung in limp waves, crowning a slightly protruding forehead. His gut, he believed, was concealed beneath the flamboyantly bejeweled, yellow doublet that clashed with his pale flesh. Clearing his throat, he slid his hand from his mouth, onto the shoulder of his compatriot. The perch was maintained for only a moment, as the man gave a secretive smile and smoothed his fingers over the fabric of his Secretary's coat, passed the shoulder - where they briefly brushed at exposed skin. Without obvious concern, the two man continued their leisurely stroll, headed straight for the trio of Nobles, and playwright.

Titus had begun to listlessly allow his eyes to wander about the area. The narrow walkway provided little to no cover for those that would come and go, still with high hopes that he'd see Rebecca tonight his eyes instead lit upon that anal trekking husband of hers. Already he was muttering under his breath and it would likely seem he was talking to himself giving the notion that he was indeed insane. How dare he! The man was little more than an ornament for the court as all knew Rebecca took care of both their assets. Glancing surreptitiously between Thomas Kent and the secretary at his side he recognized the boy as one of Thomas' favorites. No doubt he'd brought the youth along to hold onto his gun for him. There was a hunt this eve, the one that would hopefully change things for quite a few people. He could hardly contain his hope that Henry would be along soon to witness such a display and nearly felt his stomach turn as he took note of the affectionate displays between the two. Openly! He did this without thought to even save Rebecca's reputation he was incorrigible! Wanting badly to excuse himself in the hope that he'd not have to even so much as speak to the man he brought his eyes back to Eolus and Andrew as if to ignore him altogether....he had a feeling it would prove an impossible task as his eyes often even wandered over Titus himself with vaguely hidden desire.

Eolus was attentive; he followed Cornwall's gaze as it went to the colorfully dressed gentleman and the boy with him. His eyebrows lifted fractionally, and his pale hazel eyes lit in a moment of mirth. Yellow was a cheery enough color, but not when it cast the gentleman wearing it in a similarly lemon-y shade. He discerned that the two were approaching, however, and quickly swept his amusement from his face, instead gazing to the Duke - who appeared to be studiously pretending that they were not being approached. That was going to be awkward. With a philosophical shrug, he gave the man and his companion a courteous nod. He wasn't going to make enemies without knowing who they were.

"Oh yes, I await the evening most ...eagerly." Thomas murmured, glancing down his large nose toward his secretary. His adventurous grasp became bolder, as he curled his fingers affectionately along the base of Richard's neck. He sighed, feeling his lower garments tightened against his rising desire. Richard, apparently aware of his affect upon the Noble, risked a gaze downward and nearly tittered with his growing anticipation. Thomas, completely enthralled by the man at his side, seemed unaware of the Dukes and the playwright. Indeed, he nearly very missed the group altogether, but his companion had noted the three and stiffened in equal parts of anxiety and excitement. This spurred the Marquis' curiosity, and with a casual sweep, he lifted his eyes and surveyed those around him. Instantly, he recognized Buckingham and Cornwall, the latter having served in many of Thomas' fantasies. . . and what was this, they were playing host to some young buck" He stared, audaciously allowing his scrutiny to rake the two men, Buckingham was instantly discarded since he was ...such an uptight fellow. "Your Graces," He said, only to be echoed by Richard, who scraped in a low bow of unrepentant admiration. "You're both looking ....fiiine, this evening." He expressed, lowering his hand from it's momentary rest and swiping it down the length of his wet lips. He turned to Eolus expectantly, awaiting an introduction as he very nearly molested the man with his gaze.

Apparently Titus' luck was running out, he could only hope it held long enough later this evening to do what was necessary to the detriment of the King and the entire court. Hard as it was to maintain his decorum as his stomach threatened to lurch he issued a bow and fixed his lips into a smile that held nothing at all of warmth or welcome but pure malice. It was likely mistaken for something altogether different as to where Thomas was concerned. "Lord Kent...." There was nothing more of a sentiment tacked onto the end of it and he'd take note of the boys apparent upset as lips pouted at not having been acknowledged. "I trust you're ready for the hunt?" Bracing himself for the derogatory answer that would no doubt come, he could feel his hands tighten into fists at his sides. Where the hell was Rebecca, it would have done him much good to have seen her this night. Not that his will to do his task needed to be fed so much as it was to remind him once again just how right it was. "I presume your wife is well" We miss the Lady Rebecca here at court." It was more that he missed her, missed her terribly....but not for much longer....not if his shot was true and his planning perfection.

A keen sense of observation usually served a playwright well. One needed to be keenly aware of the subtleties and nuances of expression and emotion in order to compose plays of suitable honesty. Presently, Eolus had cause to regret his perspicacity. The man - Lord Kent - at least seemed occupied with the youth, which suggested that he was important. Who else but someone important would feel so free to make an ass of himself in the King's court' Morally, Eolus could not have cared less. However, when Lord Kent fixed such a hungry regard on him, his eyebrows lifted slightly, and his expression cooled to one of ambivalent courtesy. As he was not introduced, he made no presumption to introduce himself, only dipped his respectfully at Lord Kent's title and focused on the Duke Cornwall. For all that he played at courtesy, his attitude was rather dismissive toward Kent.

"Indeed, indeed." Thomas nodded in response to Cornwall. He continued to stare at the playwright, while he spoke. "It is my erstwhile hope, that I catch a stag square in the rear." And, as though the words did not convey a subtle meaning on their own, the man actually flashed Eolus - what he believed was- a devilish grin. Alas, time had stained and crooked most of the Marquis' teeth and his smile lacked the warmth of goodwill. He waited until Eolus met his gaze, before sliding the tip of his tongue across his already moist tiers. And then, Cornwall mentioned Rebecca..his wife. . . the lingering symbol of his father's vehemence. His grin lost some volume as he finally looked to the Duke. "She is well," He said, noticing how his secretary all but gave into a fit of tears upon mention of the woman. With delight and cruelty dancing in his blue eyes, he continued. "She prepares to leave for Winchester on the morrow." A fact unconfirmed, still. But Thomas spoke with confidence as he delivered the blow to the Duke. Did the man think him a fool" Word had circled back to him, about the two of them..their late night rendezvous in the alehouse, that very *friendly* person of a wife hanging on Titus' every word. Well, if Thomas could not have him..then his wife sure wouldn't. With great effort, he stilled the urge to reach for his bruised nose, which had taken quite a pummeling earlier in the day, when he'd made his demand for Rebecca to return to Winchester.

Titus gave an apologetic look to Eolus as though to let him know that the miss of introduction was purposeful but not toward him. If there was one thing Titus would do it was to protect others from this man's roving eyes. He kept a steady facade and never once did his visage show apathy as he listened to Kent's words about Rebecca returning to Winchester. "Really' Well, perhaps I shall offer my escort so that you can stay a while longer and enjoy the hospitality of the court." Titus had no doubt that Kent knew of his feelings for Rebecca and that they were indeed linked in more than just a friendly way. So his own blow would be delivered and it was actually a glancing one that would no doubt cause the man to suffer a malady to the point he'd have to take his leave early from their presence. The smile that whispered its way upon his features was both charming and wicked. Glancing again to Eolus he just knew the man was gathering much information for a possible play and a d**ned interesting one at that. (d)

He listened to the two. Indeed, he listened very attentively, following Lord Kent's lewd gesture, the subtlest of smiles turning his own mouth. It was the sort of smile a cat considering a particularly insolent mouse might smile. Only his carefully lidded eyes concealed his amusement. He was not afraid. He had spent entirely too much time manipulating the lives of men and women to think that this crude, obese saphead had the slightest chance against him. However, intelligence demanded patience.He did not know the situation, and presently, that was a dangerous disadvantage. No doubt the Duke of Cornwall would be willing to fill him in. Rare was the man who would not denounce his enemies, and plainly, the Duke had no love for this Lord. Later, he promised himself, and interjected lightly. "My Lord, my good Duke, I do believe that that lovely lady just offered me a smile," he gestured vaguely to the crowd, "and it would be churlish of me to refuse her. If you would be so kind as to excuse me?"

Titus' response hit it's mark. The Marquis flushed brightly, as the tables were so quickly turned on him. "So kind of you to offer." He grunted, narrowing the gaze that was fixed upon Cornwall. There was an awkward silence that fell between them, hampered only by Thomas' heavy breathing, before the playwright spoke. He was excused with the slightest incline of the Lord's jiggling chin, as Winchester eased his hands behind his back, thrusting out the girth of his rotund midsection as he did so. "Well then, I don't see the point of withholding you boys any longer. As you were, and good eve." As he often did, Thomas bowed out of socially uncomfortable situations and keep to tradition, he gestured for Richard to follow behind him, only glancing back once to aim one, last, longing glance toward the playwright's backside.

"I'm in hopes you found what you sought before being removed." Stated as he took her hand. The attention he placed upon her hand did have her glance at it and the way he handled it. Which had that brow arch a bit more before eyes lifted to meet the intensity of his own. A bit of a smirk would appear upon hearing his words, speaking of his observance for that single appendage. When his grip released, her hand would be slowly withdrawn back to the arm of her chair. "I'm one of the King's Barristers." She'd inform him quite proudly. Not a position to find women in, at least none she knew. Not easy shoes to fill, she found opposition around every corner, more times being treated as nothing more than a secretary when she had so much more to offer; if they ever gave her the chance to prove herself. "Not with the playwright' Are you affiliated with anything local, or just recently arrived to try and mark your spot.?" She found a bit of self humor in that last, envisioning the markings done by dogs and male felines.

" You're jesting, one of the King's barristers....how did you come by such an important post, lady....." " :: He went suspiciously silent for a moment longer then most felt comfortable with, then being preoccupied in how she handled herself he'd found it interesting how so far, women manage to avoid giving him their names. He'd purposely let her fill in the blank before he'd continue. ::

"Basinstoke." She'd fill in the blank for him, it wasn't as if she had any reason to not introduce herself, it just would come in time. "..Carlotta Basinstoke." To be more concise. "It was quite simple really. I turned in my letter of intent which outlined my ablities and attached a resume' of things I've tended to in the past." Small shrug of shoulders. "It seems as if the King found me to be a valuable asset and placed me upon the staff. My father is also a local Barrister, but he works out of a private practice." One she would never be allowed to join, due to the short sighted vision of the old crones, as she called them.

" Carlotta, an Irish name", " :: His infamous career in working along side those needing to be questioned seemed to be a natural art form for him. While she jittered out who she was, her father and how she was following in his footsteps his sight connected with the rest of her, a preoccupation of most men who rarely spent time with women in goodly attire for one. The exposure of the top halves of breasts with deep crevices only stirred one's curiosity. Yet his dwelling on her breasts ceased as he executed self restraint not wanting to come off as some sadistic hound dog, lusting after a beautiful woman's body. Come on, was he that crash' Hell yea. Of late he have to say he's been privy to mostly women who wear men's clothing, sleep with pigs, and care little about brushing their hair. Yet his gaze filtered through Carlotta's that held a sheen seeking to rival the setting sun. A weak smile jumped upward his lips as perhaps he'd been caught ogling. Damned" No, he could look, just not touch..........yet. :: " Tell me more about this playwright troupe, I myself have been without a body for some time now. A long story I'm sure would bore you lady Carlotta. "

"How observant you are MiLord Garan ....Yes, it is." Responded prior to taking another sip from her chalice. As for the ogling, if she had caught him, she'd not make it apparent nor chose to call attention to it. In fact, it was a common place enough occurrence amongst those in the court. Not to mention the other's she's dealt with in the past, or dealing with presently. To his last inquire, she'd pause for a moment in thought. "Honestly, I don't know much about them myself. I just recently met the Playwright who has intentions of putting on performances within the court and has gained the favor of the King." She'd not go into the details of how that came about. "I don't bore easily, MiLord, I deal with old men all day long who fall asleep within mid sentence." Being away from the court and halls of legal hounds, she could make such statements. Not like she'd be over heard or reprimanded for her below the belt cutting comments. She knew not the man, nor he her, so it was safe to state such things openly and freely, without worry of reprise. "Perhaps one day you'll cross paths with him yourself, and can learn more of what he does and positions he may have open."

" Perhaps you might make for me an introduction, with this....playwright then" " :: Confidence was something Gar didn't lack, but to follow through on one his background stories seemed to risky for the moment. :: " After all, you already have had some sort of contact with him, and your suggestion is well considered, a good idea. I should meet him. What is his name" " :: Having successfully changed the subject,something he was excellent at doing, his instincts thus far about this kingdom had been right on. Too bad he wasn't something more then a struggling performer.Or, was he......Fire lit Carlotta's eyes, another minor detail which caused him to stare at her, due to his waiting on her reply's.......of course. ::

"I'm sure that could be arranged, if you are in the right place at the right time." With his gruff removal earlier from the Courts, it may not be an easy feat. Not knowing the habits of the Playwright, she'd not promise something she couldn't keep her end of. "His name is Eolus Blunt." Offering a name for the man to seek out, in case he had a chance to meet the Playwright without her being present. Most of her time was spent between the Castle's library and the den of the Plantation. Chalice to be lifted, wine finished off before she'd stand from her chair. Again a pleasant smile offered to the man. "I wish to thank you for the company and conversation Milord Garan, but I fear the hour grows late and I should return home before I'm missed." Also avoid a confrontation with her father who was no doubt awake and awaiting her return. Perhaps to pick up the argument where it was left off with her storming out. "Until such time our paths may meet again, I bid you a good evening." A slight forward tip of her head in respect to the man, she'd not expect him to rise on her count, seeing the weary nature of his features. To save him further from feeling obligated, in the case he should, she'd turn with a sway of skirts and head for the tavern door. Her carriage wouldn't be far for her to call upon.

" The castle is a very large place, I doubt the gruff nobleman will cause me any more trouble. I doubt he'd bother to find out anything concerning me at this time, he was too busy trying to cut off the under garments of a woman. " He'd watch her frisky rise, and would surprise her by rising as well, being offered the hinder parts of the lady, he'd nod. :: "Was pleasurable to have met you lady Carlotta, rest well this evening. " :: The snapping of the fire behind him, made him think why he'd originally come into the Alehouse to begin with. As soon as she was gone from sight, he'd hoist up a couple of logs, stuff them into the belly of fire, pull up a second chair and move to stretch out upon them both. Tonight he would be sleeping, indoors. ::

"Oh! I did not realize who you were, you must think I am terribly ill-mannered." The blush burned a touch deeper this time around and she laughed nervously. "I hope I am not keeping you from important business. It seems you are of great significance to both —" Her sentence was clipped by the intrusion of another person. "I am not entirely—" Before she could finish Michael let out a shriek and latched onto her legs, causing her to wobble slightly and grip onto the Count with an apologetic smile. "Michael, what are you doing" What is wrong?" "He is a witch!" This didn't seem to warrant a verbal response from Constance, but she did gently pat his head. She still held onto Otto, standing shamelessly close to the man she had met only a few minutes before. "Perhaps, you know of a doctor?" This to Otto with a flip of brows, her eyes focusing in his general direction Peasants. Otto had a deep personal disdain for peasants. How this upstart managed to get past the sentries at the gate was a wonder in itself. That cold calculating gaze settled on the man. One hand unconsciously moving towards the empty scabbard where his sword had been. Alas, it had been confiscated by the guards for no one was permitted at court with weapons. Otto stepped in front of the woman and her child. '' I know of a man. I can send you my personal physician. '' Anything to get the man out of the courtyard. The child was causing a miniature scene. Since all eyes seemed to be focused on the man who had offered the child candy. There was still a deep rooted belief in the supernatural in Europe. England was no exception. '' Tell me which residence to send him too and he will be there within the hour. But, I would suggest you leave quickly. The guards are coming. '' He gave a nod towards several visible armored shapes stalking towards the small group. Otto judged the distance between the two groups and calculated that the man had about two minutes to spout off the location and get the hell out of there before someone tossed the ruffian into the dungeons. Soon she'd enter through the doors of the court, as soon as the thresh-hold had been crossed a pleasant, polite smile was in place. Nods offered to those in passing, Eolus would gain a nod and smile as well. Hefting her burden, she made way to where other young Barristers grouped together. Upon her approach, the men silenced to glance in her direction. Smirks touched their lips, a few elbows to nudge another. This was noticed, but it daunted her not, as with lifted chin she made way to one of the open chairs to place her bundles upon it's seat. "Such dedication she puts forth. Though I'm sure she'd get a lot further if she wore lower cut gowns." Hearing that uttered behind her, that back went straight and slowly she stood to turn and look at the group who stood snickering before her. No glare, though malice did register within chestnut hues. The smile remained upon her lips, but it held no humor or warmth. "Perhaps so, but that would be cheating now wouldn't it' I'd rather top all of you with my knowledge and skill. Something I have heard all of you lack." Snickering ended as they now turned to face her. "Watch your mouth, wench." Heard from the one closest to her, Thomas. To him attention would turn, smile to grow slightly. "Or you'll what? You forget your place my good Lord. I think you should reconsider your own warning and do so yourself..." Leaning a bit closer as her voice lowered. "...Wench!" At this eyes narrowed. Of course she'd use her Father's position when it suited her well. Manipulation, bargaining, the gift of words, that's what made a good Barrister, and she had learned the tools of her trade well. "Now while you lads stand and drool over things you can only dream of having, I'm going to find some food!" Satisfaction marred youthful features, as she turned upon heel with a flourish of skirts, and made way to the nearest buffet table. :: Noting the boys reaction he'd slip in a comment to the lad, :: " Some hug tree's like that. " Eolus, naturally, pivoted slightly in order to watch the confrontation between the Barrister and the group of young men. All of them had the attitude of dogs with hackles raised, as far as he could tell, and for some reason, he rarely grew tired of verbal sparring; there was always a chance that someone would emerge as spectacularly witty. He made a little so-so wave of fingers at his side when the conversation concluded: tolerably good performance, might have been better. Nonetheless, he eel through the crowd and caught up to the Barrister about when she caught up to the buffet tables. "A fine thing you've gone to the food, Miss Carlotta. To take your knife of a tongue to those lads was nearly cruel." Of course, Eolus sounded more amused by the 'cruelty' than put off. :: He'd crouch down closer to the boys level, offering a calm presence. :: " No boy, I'm no witch. Witches are girls, Warlocks are like....boy witches." :: Speaking with a level of understanding for the boy. :: " I promise you I am neither. But I am the greatest swordsman on the earth and will protect you from any such fierce evil. In fact this candy was made especially for me out of gratitude from a woman who's family I helped save from a dreadful dragon, whom I have captured..." :: Patting his sack once. :: " Would you like to see him' My name is Garan the Great, around me, nothing is ever boring. " :: Wouldn't you know the count would step in front of him right at that exact moment. A wry smirk grooved upward his bottom lip. Rising to his full height he'd be looking slightly down upon the fanciful courtier. The heavy hobnobbed boots of the courtyard guards would turn his gaze in their direction before returning to meet with Otto's. :: " I ...appreciate sir you offer of aid. The woman is like an Angel, save her wings are very worn out and she has oddly itchy fingers. " :: Trying not to grin at the sick woman's claimed profession. Often she can be found warming next to the fire place. " :: The offer of a physician he'd not sacrifice for her sake as it was quite apparent the count held prejudice towards him. Nobles were like that, proud peacocks, skinny legged and pickle noses. So he'd heard....Half turning as the guardsmen made their arrival his hands would spring upward offering the sign of surrender, and proving he was the one un-armed , at least with a weapon. :: The boy watched him with narrowed eyes and a death grip on Constance's long legs. "He bites, quite viciously." She warned to the man when she heard his shift and movements. "Garan the Great' Surely you are not great if your reputation does not precede you, sir." Polite but quick with her tongue, even sharp words twisted from the blade of her tongue were lyrical. Michael peered around her legs and looked over to the approaching guards. "He is a witch." He warned to the guards, only to be silenced with a touch to his shoulder from his female guardian. "He has a very active imagination, though the man does seem a bit ....off." She tapped her skull and turned her focus to prying Michael from his python wrap around her legs. Her hand tapped to Otto's arm to judge exactly where he was and she leaned in to murmur low against his ear. "It seems you are my savior today." '' Seize him. Toss him out onto the street. He has no place here.'' Otto was a man of his word however and he grabbed a passing servant boy. '' Do you know the large house in the New Quarter with the huge gates"'' A fervent nod was given. '' Tell my physician Doctor Klaus that his orders are for today to go to the King's Alehouse...Search for a woman who sits next to the fire. '' Yes, it sounded quite silly and stupid. But that was the vague description that the man had given him. The King's Alehouse was one of the biggest brothels in the city anyway. It was a good place to start. Coins changed hands and the boy was running off. An eyebrow arched as that voice whispered into his ear. '' Then as your savior...I kindly ask that you join me this evening. I'm still struggling to find my way around this city and am in need of a guide. Come, let's go inside before we all freeze to death. '' And before they ran into any more ''witches'' as Michael had called them. Kessler would've agreed with him in that assessment. If this man was in Emperor Charles realm he would've been in an inquisition dungeon by now. Reaching the table, a glance over it's bounty when the playwright happened at her side. Head turned slightly, a pleasant smile to now be in place. "Ah, but I mind not the debates Milord, it keeps my wits sharp." Not to mention leaving them gaping and grumbling as she had. Not giving them any time to retort, which was in a way a game she played. Taking a napkin she'd place a few pieces of cheese and fruit upon it. Glance over towards the group who now had their backs to them, attention returned to Eolus. "They be plotting their revenge this very moment. I sense an interesting evening ahead." Glimmer of mischief to momentarily show before attention turned upon claiming a chalice of wine . Turning now to face him. "How are things with you and yours" Any thoughts on what performance to give, or how soon?" Referring to their conversation they had a few nights prior. :: Hearing Lady Hell's warning about the little biter he'd not cease to grin at the thought. A low chuckle wallowed under his breath, :: " But I am famous lady...." :: Cut off by the roaring manner of the fretting count he'd be roughly attained by the courtyard guards. There would be no reason to defend himself. He'd gotten what he'd come for, help for a less fortunate human being. Whether or not the Angel would appreciate his efforts to right her wrongs his efforts remained yet to be seen. However, he wondered what it would be like were he to have found Otto laying in a ditch somewhere, bludgeoned, bloodied and in need of human repair. Would Gar find himself walking to the other side of the road avoiding the wounded man, or move to help him regardless of his status? Both men got what they came for thus far. Otto to play the hero, while Gar was a hero in a very different way. Those ways no longer exist for him. The fool seemed a much easier route to take in the game of life's travels. He'd gladly walk amid the two flanking guards aiming to shovel him back into the city street amongst the rest of the pagans whom depended upon their righteous king and soldiers to protect them. A ringing in his ears rattled his tongue loose as he shouted loud enough to be heard far and wide, :: " BEHOLD GARAN THE GREAT! A MAN OF INMEASURABLE FEATS! WAIT AND SEE! " :: When he was tossed forward, he'd tumble over the lattice stone, easily rising to his feet. His arms spread wide as if to be bowing back to the two guardsmen. No response from them, his hand lowered to simply pick up his gear and sack. ::

Having returned home after spending a few hours within the King's Ale House, she found her father to be awaiting her in the sitting room. Doing her best to be quiet as she entered, tip toeing towards the stairs in hopes to miss attention. Such would not be her luck tonight.

"Carlotta!" He'd not bellow out her name, just loud enough to gain her attention and have her enter where he sat.

A sigh passed her lips as she glanced towards the room. She then squared her shoulders and a lift of her chin, made way into the sitting room where her father awaited. "Yes father?" Moving around to the front of his chair, standing just to the right side with her back facing towards the fire's warmth he sat before.

Looking up at his daughter, he'd remain quiet for a long moment. Such a beautiful woman she was, she could have any man of her chosing, but instead she toiled away her days and nights upon those books. If she would just settle down, then she'd rid herself of this foolishness of becoming a Barrister, and how much easier his life would be. "Sit child, I wish to have a few words with you!"

She was tired, and still wished to study the law books in her room for a few hours before retiring. It looked as if this was going to not be the case. Shifting she'd settle upon the ottoman before him, turning to look upon her father's face. "If this is about me getting married again father, you're wasting your breath. I have no intentions of doing anything of the like, anytime soon."

What a quick temper she had, ready to debate before words were even spoken. A part of her that came from him. He adored her, was proud of the intellect she had, which so many young noble women lacked. "Why are you so against this child" Help me to understand, and perhaps I'll leave the matter be and ensure your mother does as well." Hands folded upon his lap as he looked upon her and listened.

Brows furrowed slightly, was he baiting her" Was this some elaborate trap" For a moment she remained silent as she thought over her answer carefully, then spoke. "There is no benefit of an arranged marriage for me, except to the man you make such an offer. You have the tobacco plantation, and your private practice. You're a man of self made wealth, and have all the land you need. I take care of the books, the staff, the hiring and firing of employees. I know you need nor want for anything, so I find the point of a marriage moot. Also, I have yet to meet the one that makes me feel, the way you or mother feels when you gaze upon each other...." A pause as she'd let those words sink in before continuing. "...Should I have to be bound to a loveless marriage, to be unhappy for the rest of my life, just because you or mother think I shouldn't be single?"

It was all he could do to hide that smirk that wished to form. She had the spirit of the Irish, there was no doubt of that, as well as brains and beauty. "No, I don't believe that is at all what we want for you my daughter." Leaning forward slightly, elbows resting upon his thighs as hands clasped between his knees. "We just don't want to see you throwing your life away persuing foolish dreams. I don't want to see you get hurt." Honest enough.

Eyes narrowed slightly, his words did strike a cord. "Foolish dreams are they father?" She nearly stood in that bout of anger, but retained her seat before him, although back did straighten. "They can't be too foolish, I gain an appointment as Barrister to the King. You of all people know that's not an easy position to get appointed to."

He couldn't debate with her there. She had gained a position at her young age, that he's tried to for his entire career. Resting back upon his seat he just looked at her a moment before speaking again. "Yes, I know quite well. I also know that it takes many years to gain such an appointment, and here you get your's shortly after you return. My main worry is that you may be used as a scapegoat, or worse...." A sigh to sound. "...Carly, my dear sweet Carlotta, you know how much you mean to me. I just want to protect you, to ensure you have a life of happiness."

"Then let me be to live my life, that's where I gain my happiness. Let me do this without constantly having to justify myself to you and mother. Have the faith in me you do your sons, father." When her step brother decided to follow the letter of the law, her father supported him fully. She only wanted this for herself.

Now that was a slap in the face. Was it not his fault she followed the road she did now" All those years he carried her with him to the office to spend time with her. Dressing her as a boy so she could work as a clerk. She did put up a good arguement, a great debate. The signs of a good Barrister indeed. Slowly he'd nod his head. "Alright..." Hand lifted to stop her from jumping up as she so often would when she got her way. "....but, only under one condition.." He'd meet her gaze.

And jump up she nearly did, her heart did skip a beat in knowing she'd not have to debate him or her mother daily anymore. It did drain her energy greatly. "And that is?" She'd not agree to anything until she heard it out.

"My condition is, if things start to get out of control, you leave. Just walk away. Don't let anyone talk you into doing anything you know is wrong, immoral, and unjust. You come to me immediately and let me at least try to help. .....Agreed?"

How could she deny such' If she got that deep and needed help, it would be nice to know there was someone to throw her a safety net. Head slowly nodded. "Agreed, father. I will come directly to you!"

It was the least he could ask, but he'd continue to watch over her none the less. Now he'd try to broach another subject that she always managed to avoid. "Are you ready yet to tell me where you've been for the past six years?"

This had her looking at him and features became stoic. How could she tell her father that for the passed six years she's sailed the seas with Pirates, partook in their looting and raides and then provided them legal aide to keep their necks from the gallows. Her dealing with the underground; thieves, assassins. How she took on the part of a Business Manager to gain cover for their operations, as well as seeking a place for all to hide under the very noses of the Royal House's that sought to destroy the men and women of the sea. Slowly she'd rise from her seat, leaning to place a kiss to her father's brow. "It's been a long day and night. I still have some studies I must tend to before I return to the court in the morning." Leaning back and standing. "Good night father." Before he could stop her, or make her pause, she turned and left the sitting room, all but running up those stairs to seek out her room.

"Good night lass." Called out after his departing daughter. A scowl upon his face at her avoidance of the subject. It just made him think the worse all the more. One day, one day she'll confide in him, he'd just need to be patient. Now he'd rise and make for his own room and bed.

Once in her room, she immediately crossed to where those three borrowed books rested. It was time again to start her studies, but not for her position as Barrister of the Court, these studies held a greater impact. She was studying the laws and history of not only the Soverign, but the Church. She was close to finding out how King Henry could by pass the Pope to gain his divorce from Katherine. A deadly game she entered, one where she placed herself between Church and State. Her work was for the good of the King, so she feared not his reprise, but, the Church' That was another story. If they found out her intentions they would have her arrested as a heritec and charge her. The only end for one who was taken prisoner by the Church, was death. Be it as a traiter to the Pope, or labled a witch and burned. She knew the way of the Catholics, as did so many who lived upon the Emerald Isle. Ireland has suffered at their hands; more so those like she who still clung to the Celtic ways. She had two siblings that followed the way of Priesthood. One a Druid Priest, the other a Druid Priestess. And if her name was associated with the Reaper of the Sea for whom she worked for the past six years, only then would she have to worry and fear the crown heads.

"Anne is my older sister, yes. It is no wonder at all that you do not know me. Were it my father's choice, I imagine I would rarely see the light of day..." Unless it would help his stations to have her do otherwise. Inwardly, she grimaced. "Do please forgive the forward speech. I ought not speak with such words towards my good father. Call it immaturity, if you will," although she knew the truth to be otherwise. "A barrister. One does not often here of a woman in such a position. How does His Majesty feel about it?" Surely he adored his ladies, but did he love them in a place equal to a man' Eyes glanced towards the door as it opened, admitting a pair of new faces along with a cold breeze. The absence of a male escort was hardly noted; she, herself, came in with none at all! ***

Waving off the woman's apology. "I know what it's like to have an over bearing father. Trust me, you say nothing I haven't myself." Her smile would warm slightly as they spoke more. "Yes, it's not an easy task, let me tell you. To Be honest, as I have with most positions I apply for, I just forget to mention I'm a woman at all." Bit of a grin. "I always sign my documents with my first two initials, then the surname to follow. When they read of my abilities, then call for a meeting, it's usually comical, I will admit. Here they expect to see some cocky young man to stand before them..." Hand would indicate herself. "...Instead they see me." Slow shake of her head. "Usually about that time is where many show me the door. Though I have had the Luck of the Irish on my side as of late, and what I offer as an explanation of how this came to be so." As she spoke, it was easy to hear the dialect of the Emerald Isles within properly spoken words. Attention would shift momentarily when the door opened. Back upon the one she spoke with focus returned. "Why are you so worried about speaking your mind?" A shift of position to face the woman a bit more. "There's nothing wrong with speaking your opinion. What's important is how it's done. You can actually insult someone, who can't do a thing about it, if they are of position. You simply have to show respect for their position. Once that's done, you can pretty much speak your mind." Small shrug of shoulder. "Just have to be careful of who it is, and how it's said. I will admit that. Some are just cantankerous and would strike out just because you twitched your nose wrong, or held not a special gleam in your eyes."

To answer, she began with quite an unladylike wrinkle of her nose before reciting from memory: "A lady of breeding ought never speak any louder than a whispering wind.' Was such an idea not drummed into your mind growing up" Believe me; despite how often I have heard the words, I still struggle with the particular how-to in it. Nay, I am safer if I merely smile prettily, curtsy when I should, and say not more. Being the younger of the family, and a woman no less, it is much safer for me to simply obey without a fuss....much as I despise it." Her gaze slanted over to where the Dark One previously sat and she sighed. "Oh, to be one that had all the freedoms of the world." An almost wistful expression overtook her and she glanced back to her company. "Do you know what I wish?" Leaning forward as if disclosing a most dark secret, she grinned. "I wish to write stories, for young children. There are so many tales we are told when we are young, and would it not be lovely to have an account of them?"

Oh yes, how many times had she heard that from her elder sister and mother" Way too many to count, that was for sure. "Yes, I too had endured such babble while growing up. Filled me to the point where I took off without word and disappeared..." A pause for a moment. "....for six years." Adding after. "In that time, I learned much. One thing I learned is that if you whisper, people won't hear you. To obey means to be taken advantage of because they know they can." Slow shake of her head. "I know when to keep my place, to play the game. But, I also know when to stand my ground, and I'll not become some meek quiet mouse for them to stomp. I will have my say." A bit of a chuckle. "I've been told I harbor too much passion." Another shrug. "I just know what I want in life, and I'll do what ever it takes to get it, without having to lower myself." She had learned well over the past years, perhaps that's the basis of that spunk she emitted openly and freely. Following her gaze to the table where the man and woman sat, attention was back upon her table mate. "You can be as free as you wish, just have to play their games." Offered in an explanation. Hearing about her true passion, a smile did form. "Really!"! I am a bookworm myself. When you decide to place pen to parchment, I would love the chance to be able to read your workings." Leaning forward a bit. "You do intend to do this, right' Not letting them rob you of that too, I hope."

"Perhaps that is my error: I do not know enough what I truly want. I know that I like to write, and dream..." She laughed and shook her head in spite of herself. "And, as a matter of fact..." The apples of her cheeks flushed and it spread across the bridge of her nose. Reaching down to her hip, fingers worked open the drawstring pouch and folded parchment was pulled from within and slid across the table, her eyes holding a bit of an impish gleam. "I have one such story with me, if you wish to read it. But please say nothing. I do not wish to disgrace my family..."

That gained the woman a curious glance, as the parchments she offered was taken into hand. "Why would your family find disgrace in your stories?" Voicing her curiosity, as the papers were laid out before her, and spread to be held down by one hand. The candle of their table drawn closer to spread light upon the parchment's surface. Focus now to the fine scroll of hand, as she began to read the words before her. A speed reader in a sense, as she could quickly glance over the paragraphs and retain the information each contained. One of the things that made her top of her class, any studies that were placed upon herself and colleagues, she always excelled at, where they were but mediocre at best.

Another quote came to her lips and she rolled her eyes within her rather than outwardly. "There nothing so hard to marry off as a writer...' "She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders."And truly, I do wish to marry." She paused. "It is nothing brilliant, but I enjoy it..." Referring to the story itself, and she quieted then. **

The more she read, the more the story had her captivated. Not enough she didn't hear the woman's words, but to the point she was yet unable to respond. Soon enough she'd sit back, rolling the parchments before offering them back. "That is amazing, simply amazing. A true gift you have Milady and a sad day it would be if none could ever read that." Nod of her head to the papers she was passing. It would be the woman's words that had her think for a moment. "Then, don't publish it in your name, but an alias. I have heard of many writers who do such, to keep anonymity of the stuff they write; usually those that are quite controversial of course. But it would do the same for you. It's not like you couldn't find the time to write. In fact, I'll even help." The more she talked, the more ideas formed in her head. "You write your stories, and come up with a name to publish it by. Then we'll meet here, or where ever you're comfortable. I'll take it and have it published for you, over see it's sales and then see you properly compensated."

Her eyes sparkled and shined with each passing moment. "Are you quiet serious?" Her voice had dropped to a whisper and she leaned forward. "Could we not get into trouble for this...somehow" It seems too easy to be right." For some reason, what they spoke of sounded like it would be treasonous in some light, but surely a barrister, of all people, would know. "It is very, very kind of you, but I would not want to take away from your own work..." Her brows furrowed and she leaned forward a bit. "You do not need to; I certainly do not need the world to read what I write." Exciting as it might be! **

Remaining in that forward lean as they spoke between themselves. "No, we won't get into any legal trouble. I'll be sure to write up the paperwork that's necessary. It's just a matter of protecting your name." A glance spared over the room, then back upon her. "Using an alias is common place. You'd be surprised to learn just how many do it." It was then she smiled. "It wouldn't take much of my time at all. Arrange a simple meeting, get the publisher to sign a binding contract, then it's done. They take care of the rest. I'll set up a fund where all proceeds will go into it, and you'll have access to it at your own will." A pause as she gazed upon the woman. "Now don't get me wrong, just because I suggested it, doesn't mean you have to do it. It's just an opportunity offered to you, that you can accept when you are comfortable with the idea. I'm easily found if it's something you wish to pursue."

]Lips pursed together nervously and she looked around as if expecting her father to magically appear out of the woodwork. "Allow me to think on it, and I will let you know." Her lower lip curled up and over her lower row of teeth and she bit it gently. "Do you think anyone would want to read it' Truly' You need not carefully choose words for my sake; I can take the honest truth." Her heart had begun to beat a bit quicker, and she dared to let herself hope. **

You do just that." She thought for a moment. "In fact, if you chose to do this, just send word to my home. Basinstoke estate in Westminster, the tobacco plantation. It's where I live, and none would give a second thought if you were to do so. Thinking we were just socializing in a common way." Which truly it would. "My father is usually at his law offices until late and spends the evenings in my mother's company when he gets home. So we won't be bothered at all." Her last comment gained her the warmth of that smile the one which easily reflected within chestnut hues. "I think you would captivate more than just children, to be honest. Such stories will rivet many who picked it up to read. Such vivid detail you put in your characters, that I could close my eyes and actually envision what they'd look like. See the actions they take. Feel their sorrow, and their glee. You have a wonderful gift Milady, a talent so many would dream to possess."

Once more, color flared up in her face and she smiled brightly. "Thank you very much. It is a high compliment to receive, especially from someone who I know must be so very intelligent. Truly, thank you." Her hand cupped over her heart and she sighed. "I suppose I ought to send you some of the others, just to ensure that you know what you are getting yourself into." She grinned and her eyes sparkled a little with mirth. "I shall let you know immediately, and I do so appreciate your willingness to help me." *

It was then something else dawned on her as she sat back slowly. "You know, another you might consort with, it the new Playwright to the King." The more she thought on this, the more sense it made. "One who could take your wonderful written characters and bring them to life." Slowly nodding in agreement with herself. "Your sister has met him, and I'm sure she could arrange for you to speak with him." Brows furrowed in thought. "Unless you wish to hide this from her too, and if so, perhaps I could arrange a chance meeting." Her mind was racing a million miles a minute, as ideas continued to pop up within it. The woman had a skill that should not be ignored, just because of her station in life. Carlotta was always the one who stood up for the Underdogs not matter what level of society they walked upon. "His name is Eolus .....Eolus Blunt."

The Playwright to the King!?! Her eyes widened and her heart slammed against her chest. "Ah....I....thank you! That would be wonderful!" And a dream comes true! To meet such a talented writer as he...! She felt dizzy with elation and her face was simply aglow with excitement! She could barely believe her luck, or perhaps it was something more. "You are so....wonderful! Such a blessing!" Reaching across, she impulsively took her hand and gave it a squeeze, and quickly let go. "Oh, forgive me! You have just given me something to smile about!" **

]The woman's elation registered outward, removing that mousy countenance she had visualized since Mary's entry. This only caused her smile to grow in it's intensity as well as warmth. "I see you like that idea, then we'll have to be sure you meet him." A soft laugh with the woman's exclamation of her being a blessing. Slowly she'd shake her head. "I wouldn't claim such, Milady. I am but a problem solver, that's what I do, solve other peoples problems anyway I can." Another chuckle as her hand was squeezed, again she'd be slowly shaking her head. "No forgiveness needed. If a reason to smile is that I gave, then a good deed it is." Reaching to pat the woman's hand lightly before settling back upon her seat. "You make great stories, he claims perfection in performance. With two heads together, you'll simply wow all. Be it written word in a book, or set as a performance on the stage."

Her words cut to the quick...: "I pity you for you're empty soul, ": he heard the wench say. He was set on his course and there was no turning back from it. Garan fondled the mug's clever handle while pulling it up to fringe upon his bottom lip. Dark brooding eyes slipped away from the woman allowing his gaze to ping into the fire pit. It lacked fire wood and heat, its embers were well eaten by the flames leaving behind the skeletal remains of charred logs. Clumps of gray powder stretched horizontally while here and there crimson hot spots eyed those sitting closest. Twisting his gaze towards the blurry pane of one window, hooves clattered on stone, a dog barked somewhere and soldiers gave harsh orders. Tilting his gaze further it proved to be castle guardsmen. More sentries arriving. Already he'd be bracing himself for one of those cheery conversations, knowing full well. He'd been black balled from entering the castle by some nobleman, who called himself Otto. The curtain slipped back as he waited to hear the Alehouse doors open. ::

The carriage delivered her before the door as usual. A stop on the way home after toiling the day and night away within the castle library. Heavy cloak of ermine drawn about her as the door was approached. Opened for her to easily pass, then closed in the wake of her entry. Once within, kid gloved covered hands would rise to draw the hood from its rest upon crown. Pause as chestnut colored gaze would slowly drift over the common room. Noting the usual gathering of fellow Barristers, who'd glance her way, yet tonight they'd keep their tongue. That gained a satisfied smirk from herself it would seem the message sent was well received. Moving through the crowd to gain way to the bar as gloves were slowly stripped of their hold upon slender digits. Once removed, within the depths of pockets would they be deposited. Reaching the bar, her usual fare to be ordered as the fasteners of the heavy cloak was worked free. Once chalice was placed before her, an exchange of coins prior to it's capture. Easing from the press of bodies about the bar, she'd now work her way through the crowded room. Her destination to be that usual spot she'd claim by the warmth of the fire's side.

What dead dreary day it had been that drove him to drink. Drink splendidly! With no falter or over exertion. He'd been properly served his bottle and large intricately carven wood mug. The thing sat neglected before his sight. His finger pressed hard to the thick wooden rim. Before him was the mug, dull, half twisted glasses, and to the side....The little black book, fairly close to his body and in full sight. Finally, the mug was brought up and he opened a full mouth to the burn of pleasantry. Eyes shifting ever-so-curiously to the side. After being a physician to the King and all his courtiers, one needed a drink to keep his patients. Literally.

:: Vocal cords started to vibrate as one boot caught the front of the chair seat across from him. Dragging it closer he'd start to sing a fairly distinctive song well known amongst the entertainer troupes which often travel Europe. He'd be improvising, adding some lyrical content in the places where he'd forgotten the words. His hand squeezing the mugs handle tighter as it would be lifted then swayed from left to right in some rhythmic pendulum pattern. Animosity cloaked beneath the warmth of a friendly tune. He could be an excellent actor when it was required. Truth be known as the castle guards continued to filter in, his sights had fallen upon the lady Carlotta. Drawing his breath he'd comment right in between lines. :: "Good.....evening....lady.....Carlotta. " :: Having remembered her name, for she had told him about some playwright. His attempts to meet the playwright were sadly thwarted. Downward came his mug sending some ale over its rim, he'd grunt with disappointment. ::

Upon first hearing her name sang out' She had thought it was Thomas back to his tricks again. Narrowed gaze would turn upon the other Barristers, to note it was they who were staring in another direction. Brows furrowed slightly as she'd turn to do the very same. Focus now rested upon the man who so openly proclaimed his greatness. Now brows rose in a manner of surprise as she took in his sodden state. Light chuckle and it was then she noticed the guard as they entered. Remembering his problem spoken of prior, she wondered what trouble he gained himself this time. Slowly she'd shift her path to direct her towards the man's table, reaching it's side to stand but a foot away to greet in return. "And ye as well, Milord Garan..." Pause as she took note of the table's mess, attention shifted back upon him. "Having a bit of trouble this night?" She was the King's Barrister, so if any were to approach, she would have a voice in a sense on his behalf. Depending on what the situation was. She'd not place her neck upon the chopping block for him, though would walk at his side if his offense would come to that.

:: Half rising from the butt of his chair, he'd move to fix the mess in order to offer the woman a place to settle. :: " A towel" " :: Shouted out. It would turn several heads in their direction but no matter to him. Busily he'd round the side of the table in order to pull out a chair for the woman. :: " Here try this side, it's got less turmoil associated with it. " :: Quiet dignity imbued the simple statement with honest sincerity. His lips would crack slightly as that flagon of wine sitting dead center of his table, along side a melting candle nearly fell over when his sword knocked in against the table's edge. Briefly he'd glance towards those men settling themselves a good 30 feet away from the fire spot, his hand instantly snaked out capturing the bottle by its lean neck. :: " We really don't want to create too much of a mess now do we" "

Chalice to settle upon the table, then shrugging out of the confinements of ermine wrap. This would be draped over the chair before she'd move to set claim by being seated. "My thanks." Offered in returned sincerity. A glance back towards the room and meeting the gaze of the other Barristers, she'd offer them a smile; one that lacked humor or warmth. Turning attention back upon Gar after. "No, you really don't." Almost asking the man if he had a mouse in his pocket. Taking note of the guards again, then focus was upon her companion of the eve. "Want to let me in on what?s going on here" I'm sure it's not a love affair you have with the King's Guards, to have them looking at you so." Her voice kept low, though the level of other voices didn't make that situation all to hard to do. Hands to capture that chalice between them as she settled comfortably with a slight forward lean.

" I'm rather shy about not liking men who instantly tag me as the underdog in their world. Such as the nobleman, Otto..." :: His free hand gestured in the air while he'd attempt to recall his full name. Giving up he'd figured she'd know or come to know who he was talking about. A tavern maid was leaning directly behind him swirling a dry cloth over his spillage then fastly disappeared. This allowed him to move himself back to the opposite side of their table lowering the flagon of wine. Sitting back down he'd stretch comfortably back against his chair. :: " I'd like to meet the playwright you spoke of...can you find a way to arrange it' "

No, she had no clue of the man he spoke of, but she'd be sure to find out. A pleasant smile offered to the tavern wench before she moved away and left them to their own. "I don't see why not. He seems a likable man. I do know he loves his art, so I'm sure the two of you would get along..." Bit of a grin. "...you are the Great Garan and all." Yes, she was teasing him a bit. Amused glint in soft brown eyes to momentarily appear. Chalice now lifted to take a slow sip before it'd lower again. "I'll speak to him when next our paths cross, unless the two of you happen to be in the same place, at the same time. Then it would be a manner of a simple introduction."

:: He'd shrug slightly, :: " True...Great once upon a time anyway. " :: His features worked up a grin before his mouth and chin vanished behind the opening of his mug. :: " I have heard a rumor that there is some sort of masque coming up, a ball of some kind" I 'd thought that might be a good place to make a formal introduction, one where the Count Otto can't derail. I think if the man continues with his attitude towards my station I might be tempted to challenge him. I find pompous asses sometimes need their back ends whipped clean. It reminds us when we are chastised that all men in the sight of God is considered ...equal. "

:The French were as beautiful as they were deadly and Salem was no exception. Raven curls were pushed away by the tender pads of clothed digits for the wind saw fit to sway them. Slender frame was draped with a woolen cloak, nothing fancy which was quite odd for the Pirate. Of course, it was what was beneath the warm shroud that catered more to the vibrant side of the man. Up the steps of the inn he went, lush lips expelling smoke as blackened lungs released their constricted hold. Fingers tore the pipe away as darkened eyes lowered to inspect what remained smoldering within the belly of the wide bowl.: "Mon Dieu...." :He hissed slightly as the contents were nearly gone. It would seem another trip to Singapore was needed. He slunk inwards with what grace lean legs could offer him. A tunic embroidered with gold and odd swirling patterns adorned his torso. Doeskin pants kissed tightly to his thighs, and created curves most women envied.: " Ah Bonjour Ma Cher..." : And index was wiggled towards Carlotta:

She nearly grimaced when he brought up the Masque that had been announced. Slight nod of her head. "Yes, so I have heard." Many times over, her mother flitting about it, and being adamant about her making a showing. "Yes, perhaps it could be arranged. I'll see what I can do for you on that." A polite smile offered the man, another sip of the mulled wine taken. Hearing his comment about the Noble, she had to softly chuckle and slowly shake her head. "You'll find that's the train of thinking for many, Milord. You can't change all their minds by challenging them to a duel." The man would be constantly dodging another's blade if so. Hearing the purring of French dialect, attention would shift to befall upon Salem. The best cook she'd ever met, especially for the ship he worked upon, although now she had the pleasure of his services within her family home; much to her father's chargin. The man avoided the Frenchman like a plague, except at dinner time, it was there her family revered him. "Good evening Salem, I see you decided to venture out." An amused glint within those chestnut hues. She wondered if all here were ready for the Frenchman, he was a one of a kind. "Come join us." Indicated the table where she rested. "I'd like you to meet the Great Garan, entertainer extraordinaire." Glance then towards Garan, she couldn't help but grin, ready to watch his reaction to the Frenchman. "Garan, this is Salem. A dear friend and one of the best chefs in the entire world." :: His lips parted slightly then curved in a derisive smile. She was right he couldn't challenge every man, just those who tried to keep him from getting the work he needed. Being involved inside the castle would indeed further his Greatness as well as a few other things the mysterious entertainer had in mind to accomplish. Once more the flat sole of a well worn boot pressed against the narrow bottom of a chair shoving it outward for the fancy Frenchman to drop ass upon. :: " The ...best chef in the entire world....Is it possible to prove that' " :: After all, Carlotta had not heard of Garan, and challenged his "greatness." His hand lifted an empty table basket, :: " One day perhaps Salem, would you be willing to fill this basket with one of your finest meals and serve it say.....to a champion' Or a fool...." In order to prove your greatness" "

:There was lower of lids as long lashes brushed against the bottom half of his eye sockets when he peered at the unknown man. A brow rose and arched at the top of his forehead as the chair came scuttling his way, and then of course the challenge pressed upon him. Lips pursed as a long billow of smoke fluttered away from curve of his mouth.: "Monsieur....Moiz food can 'ow do jou zay. Mimic a womanz bodah, giving jou a deeper pleasha an' a bettah aftah. taste." :His nose wrinkled slightly as he lowered himself down into the chairs wooden embrace.: " Mm, Ma Cher jou are too Kind. Jou feed Moi too manah complimentz, jou make it 'ard for Moi to keep down ze ego...." : He purred gently then rose and angled his chin upwards.: " I'll zee wut Moi can do, Mon Ami. By ze way...I am Salem De La Court...Or Frenchy if jou prefer...." Loose leaves of parchment were stacked upon one another and bound with a blue silk hair ribbon. Beneath the folds of billowing cloak, they were hugged to her chest as she hurried through the shadows. A broad smile was upon her lips and her eyes sparkled with excitement. This time, when she approached the alehouse, she opened the door without a moment's hesitation as she had before. A glance around the room with one face in particular that she hoped to see Carlotta. She was surprised to see the entertainer there as well, and the smile brightened. "Good evening!" **

:: He'd look across the table to Carlotta busting out into deep laughter . Standing then with a bow of his head to the Barrister, to stagger out of the alehouse.

She'd Watch as Garan left the alehouse in a fit of laughter. Though he left not alone, those guards who sat in wait did follow after. Attention then turned upon Mary and she'd offer a cheery smile. "Good evening Mary, come join us." Indicating the table she and the Frenchman now had to themselves. Poor Mary, she was about to get a dose of Salem and all his glory. She adored the man, as did many of the crew they sailed with; even at times many wished to slit his throat. They'd not cut off the hand that fed them, he had them by the .....well, you know.

"Hmm...Mutz non like women.." : That finely crafted brow remained arched, though lowered at the presence of another. Slender digits couldn't help but in turn give the woman with the parchments a little pinky wiggle. A few raven curls fell once more into those darkened hues and he couldn't help but mutter softly in French. The lower portion of his lip curled upwards as he expelled air from his lungs in hopes of swaying them.: "Mon Dieu. Ah Bonjour Ma Cher..." :He turned his gaze back to Carlotta and smiled, flashing all though lovely pearls.: " I t'ink jour familah iz warmin' up to Moi., zou I t'ink I need to make zumptin' zat will reallah butter jour Papa up. Would wearin' a drezz "elp?" : This was said jokingly....or was it":

Mary paused and sobered a bit as she watched the Entertainer quickly take his leave with the guards behind him. Her brows furrowed and she shook her head. Bullies! She slowly crossed to the table where the pair sat and she bobbed a small curtsy to the man. "Bon jour, Monsieur. I do hope that you are enjoying your evening." The pile of papers were clutched tighter to her chest even as one hand snuck out to untie the cloak and let it fall from her shoulders, draping over one arm. "Miss Carlotta, good evening to you." **

Salem's words had her tittering behind a lifted hand, which pressed to her lips to quell that want to bark out laughter. Eyes alight with amusement as they befell upon the man, hand lowered to enable unmuffled speech. "If you did that my delectable friend, those posh comforts I gained you at the Plantation would cease to exist, and you'd find yourself back upon that bunk in the galley." Couldn't curtail the laughter in her tone, just the idea of it all, for she could actually envision Salem all dolled up and serving her father his roasted duck. It was all she could do not the giggle at that, and her smiling features would now shift to Mary. "Good evening to you as well Milady. It's good to see you again." She'd then introduce Mary to the perky Frenchman. "Mary, this is Salem." Names offered between the two, she'd allow them the further formalities of introduction. "Is that more of your writings you have with you?" Curious now, and eager. If anything was like the story she shared with her the night prior, it would be a delight to be able to read them.

"Ah, Oui Ma Petite ze evenin' iz fine! " :Slender digits encased in doeskin were offered outwards to her. He curled his hand around hers and arched her palm downwards. Lips which were now free from the Pipe's hold, pursed as they kissed her knuckles. : " It iz a pleasha..." : He pulled away and looked back towards Carlotta. "Zen ze idea iz scrapped. Zou I non t'ink any o' jour drezzez are Moi'z style..." :Dark hues were swallowed up by a sea of lashes as a wink was offered her way. :

As he deposited the kiss gently to the back of her hand, she dipped a small curtsy once more. "My Lord, likewise. and I suppose if you truly wished, a tailor could make a gown for you..." She smiled and then looked towards Carlotta. With bright eyes and an equally eager smile, she proudly presented with childlike joy her works. "It is. I hope they are to your liking, although they are a bit different than the first..." **

This time that laugh would not be held at bay. Soft was it's utterance as she listened to the two. Peeking over at Salem. "No, I don't think the bodices would fit you.....well, they might if we used something to stuff them!" More amusement found. Surely not the topic of conversation two ladies should be partaking of, but when Carly got around those she considered a family of sorts; she tended to befall into old habits. One day their story may be told, but then again, if so, the gallows would be the end for them all; so it might not. "I look forward to reading them, Mary." A glance back to Salem. "Mary writes books, wonderfully so." Mary would gain the warmth of her smile, which easily reached those chestnut hues. "Have you a chance to meet the Playwright yet?"

" Ma Cher, zat iz wondafah. Jou will 'ave to read zem teh Moi zum day. Readin' in anah language wuz nevah Moiz ztrong point." : Salem could barely read French let alone English, but damn it he could still look pretty while he pretended!: " Oh! Ma Petite, 'ow 'bout we, ztrike a deal. Fer everah ztorah, jou'll get a cooked meal from Moi.?" :If it was one thing he knew how to do was cook, and Carlotta could vouch for him!:

The young woman's cheeks blushed fiercely and she dipped her head at the compliment. "No, not yet. I would like to, but I have only met you and Mister Garan...." She looked over her shoulder towards the door through which the Entertainer disappeared. Glancing back to the Frenchman, she nodded. "We have a bargain, Monsieur. I shall allow you to choose the day for us. Is that fair?" She paused and lowered herself slowly into a chair. "I shall tell you now, Miss Carlotta exaggerates." She shot a teasing grin over at the Barrister. **

All she could do was smile as she listened to her friend, and one is newly made. A light laugh hearing Mary. "Exaggerate" Me" ..." Softly chuckles and shakes her head. "I of all people spend a lot of time with the written word, Milady. I know a good writer when I see one, and you have a gift." Hand motioning towards the Frenchman. "...just as you'll soon learn his. He'll make you weep with is cuisine. I'm privileged to call him friend and his choosing to take position upon my father's plantation as head chef." A wink directed towards Salem. Slowly she'd rise, collecting her cloak. "If you two will excuse me, I need to tend to some studies before I find my bed tonight." Leaning she'd place a kiss on Salem's cheek then move close to his ear to whisper. "You behave." Teasingly stated, nuzzle to his cheek playfully. Leaning back to offer Mary a smile. "Now you have to come visit our home. We can all sit in the parlor and enjoy tea after a fine meal, while you read your stories to us, yes?" She found that to be the most pleasant thought. Friends, old and new, gathering together to enjoy a peaceful and joyful evening entertaining each other. A good way to forget about the dark clouds that hung over all their heads. Leaning to offer Mary a light hug, and chaste kiss to her cheek. "I leave you in good hands. I have no doubt you'll come to adore Salem as much as I." Saying this so Salem could hear; not that he didn't already know how much she adored him. Best girlfriend she's ever had! A warm smile offered to both. "Stiff wind in your sails and a pleasant evening I bid you both." Cloak slipped on, as well as her gloves. She'd make way for the door and out to await that carriage that would take her home.

She smiled and returned to gentle embrace and she kissed the side of her face briefly. "Indeed; I do look forward to such a pleasant evening....with both of you." **

:Dark eyes seemed to twinkle at the turn of the conversation. The Frenchman slowly rose after the affection was blessed upon him.: " Moi fearz, I muzt be off az well. Zere iz zum, mattahs zat aquire Moiz expertise..." : Yes there was a brow wiggle offered. And with that his cloak was gathered and he headed out.:

She chuckled and, since seeing the Barrister was the sole reason for her appearance, she too wrapped herself up and hurried out into the night.

The walk to the docks was not one made quickly; quite some distance from her home did they rest. Though it allowed her the time needed for thinking, mulling over pages upon pages of information absorbed. Grasping the edges of that hood to position it to shield her face from the chilling wind that whipped about. The sounds of her steps would slosh with each step taken, due to the countless carriages and those upon horse back, that traveled along their snow covered paths. Soon enough the scent of the sea would be in took, one that was familiar and brought a smile to lips as memories came forth. Off shore, she knew the Black Swan sat idle, offering her a way out if she ever felt the need or want. The crew she had managed to get gainful employment for around the area, most upon her father's plantation. If they were going to be bound to the land during the time she was here, might as well make it worth their while. A few men were still hard at work, moving crates from the wharf to the various warehouses that lined this area. Several ships rested within their slips along the many piers, some newly arrived and others waiting to set sail in the morning. Even though it was dark, so much could be viewed by the light of the moon and stars, if one just simply took the time to look. Standing beside that large stack of crates, it would be that in which she'd do. Looking beyond the structures of wood, iron, and cloth composition, she could view the spans of water beyond. This time of the year, even during the light of day, those watery depths had that deadly blackish appearance. The wind carried upon it that salty scent, if one was to lick their lips, they could almost taste it. Eyes would then slowly close as she let her mind reminisce, of a time when she stood upon the bow of the Swan, sails full and slapping in the wind that drove them through those ocean depths. She could hear the sound of the sea as it roared passed, how it slapped against the hull and made the ship moan and groan in protest. The spray of that which broke over the deck as the ship pitched and rolled. The intensity of the sun as it kissed one's face. As beautiful and enticing such could be, in the blink of an eye, it could turn against you. Though she'd not think of the darker times, but that which originally caused that smile of serenity to rest upon those naturally colored mauve lips.





Shadow: The tavern was a blaze with life, the seedy kind. Dockworkers and those associated with them jostled within the smelly confines of wood and various bodily fluids. Ladies of the evening plied their trades in the privacy of pulled alcoves, where luckily only a hairy limb or two was evident. There was an under current, higher up in the world amongst the wigs and the wealthy. He was sure of it now, that things were stirring by the pompous arse that currently sat on the throne. It suited him just fine...in fact; it brought a smile to the shadow's lips. A glimmer of fangs in the candle light. Outside the tavern, world was the norm. The smell of the sea, and the stench of the sewage that was poured into it. People walked here, and there...some seeking the back alley ways and a quick hick of skirt, others far darker places with far darker desires. A drunk came stumbling out, his feet lurching beneath him and sliding along the stone. He swayed first left, than right as if under the influence of the seas tossing volleys. The cut of the man's uniform spoke of mild wealth, the clang of an utterly useless sword thumped against his thigh sporadic and hollow in his wine endued plight. He took two steps, and bent over...retching against the side of the building, three and it repeated. The tell tale bulge of a money purse lay against his opposite hip, and it did not take the vultures but a second. Three came from the alley way, two small and one large. It was over in a second, perhaps two. A familiar flash of death and robbery in the night life of England....or was it not so familiar" The silver glint of metal, a scream cut short. The three robbers lay motionless upon the cold, damp cobblestones. The drunkard was suddenly fluid, graceful. Gone was the lurch in his step, and the sway of his body. No with ease he squatted down, money pouch taken from his side. Crumbs of bread were emptied from it, and one by one the robber's purses found their way into his. Much smaller down than previous, and tucked inside the waistline of leggings instead of upon belt. Lastly his sword was wiped clean on one of their chests, his body stood up right and his walk became a slow...prowl. This, the shadow, was a predator use to guile and deceit to find his prey. :





The muffled sounds and thuds could be heard from where she stood, not far from that barrier of crates that shielded her from the rowdier aspects of dock life. Slowly eyes would open, slowly taking in her surroundings without much movement of form. She had learned well, if you wish to blend with the shadows, become one with the night, barely a breath do you take, nary a muscle did you move. As was the way of such things, many turned a blind eye and deaf ear to situations that take place around them. If no outcry came to beacon them, then silence would befall upon those claimed victim. Seeing nothing to cause her alarm, she decided to perhaps move to a better lit area in which to stand. Not that it would offer much more protection, but it did give one a false sense of security and did most often deflect would be assailants. Gloved hand would slowly lower to her side, keeping close to where that dagger was hidden beneath the heavy cloth that provided her warmth. Several steps would be taken before she'd step past that mountain of wood containers, and at the same time into the path of one who seemed to be moving with purpose. A near collision it had been, if not for her alert nature and ability to side step without loss of footing upon slick surface. Though a startled glance would the man get, and a softly spoken. "Me p"rd?ns Govn'r." Utilization of that Cockney that would add to the cloak and dagger disguise. Unaccompanied women were targeted easily enough, but if the rogues of the night had any inkling that it was a woman of station, her plight could worsen. Head bent forward as one hand held that woolen material tighter in closure, while the other positioned to where the leather tips of digits would brush the hilt of the hidden dagger beneath.





Rogue: A single eyebrow rose, it was his single expression...one could wonder if he was actually surprised, or merely raised the articulate thing out of an attempt to appear human. His movements ceased his body still as she addressed him. Garments spoke of military, the amount of gold frill spoke officer, and the lack of many dangling medals said it was a lower rank. Well groomed hair had some money in his pocket, broad shoulders and tall figure made the sword on his hip appear something more likely to be usable than mere decoration. It was black eyes that looked to her, not some romantic blue or soft brown. They were dark, holding no glimmer but the reflections unable to pierce the shadows. Any guise, however, that he managed as some ordinary fellow, an officer youth preparing to be wed away by a father was destroyed by his voice. Deep, strong it made him to old to be some son sent away freshly. It marked him cultured, and able to keep that in check. But more importantly, it was the contents of those words.:...The accent doesn't suit you, you are clean and light on your feet. You don't have the stench of lowers, and thou hair shines more than the sea. Thou shawl is clean, thou boots are leather and equestrian, thou makeup is ash but coal, and thou dagger was forged to fit your hand, and thou best learn not to put thy hand upon it unless thou intends to use it...:With that he stepped past her, and beyond. His walk an even thing of click heels, and leather soles.:





That had her head slowly rise as did her gaze that now pierced into the back of the man. Having noted his state of dress, military no doubt, and the colors of the King. That Irish temper kept in check, which kept her little retort from passing her lips. Although, one word did pass before she could mute those words. "Peacock.." Click of tongue to the roof of her mouth, she'd continue along towards where a lantern burned brightly where it was suspended from the side of a weathered post at the dock's edge. Here she would stand to where she could better view the spans of water which had captivated her so moments prior that offered the solace to her troubled mind. Here she could escape the world of Courts, barristers and chancellors. Here no demands were placed upon her, no expectations or hopes of her failure to put her in her place. She understood the draw of those who set to sea, the freedom it offered that could not be found upon land. Hand remained close to that dagger upon her side, and distance from the water's edge was that so she wouldn't stumble or couldn't be easily pushed into the murky, icy depths along the dock's edge. Though quiet would not be something gotten, due to the rowdy sounds that poured from the dens of iniquity that lined this area. It would be from the corner of her eye that she noted a pair heading in her direction, with arms laid across each other's shoulders as they swaggered along. Two men, more than likely mates upon a ship, who passed a bottle between the two of them and tales that caused them both to burst into loud laughter. Head turned just enough to watch the two as they drew near, though not to make it obvious they were being watched. It was when they paused and both looked her way, then heads bent together as they shared some secret between them, that she knew her night of peace was about to be disturbed. The light touch upon hilt now became a firm grip, the blade pulled but an inch from its home to make an easy draw if the need arose. Soon their private discussion ended, and onwards they moved as before; except this time, their eyes were focused upon her. A deep breath taken, she'd turn and begin walking back in the direction from which she came. She'd not run, knowing that would be a mistake. The docks were slick in many areas, and if she were to flea, easy it would be to end sprawled out upon the ground. Head held high, though she could hear the two were indeed following behind her.





Enter a Peacock: The word was heard, but passed off. No doubt some young Lady of the court meeting her married lover for a nice rut in whatever establishment he found the cheapest room in. Nothing but a free whore...check that...His walk stopped of it's own accord, halting in the street some dozen steps away from where they had originally bumped into one another. No...not that one. She went through far lengths to appear as something she was not, oh she had a few mistakes something like the shadow would spot...but for most passerby's she would be a merely attractive female of no particular standing and a quickly forgotten encounter. No, this was no midnight romp between flea infested sheets. This was something different, curious...his nature would not allow him to not find out. One would think it hard to move easily, quietly in such pompous attire as that which he was dictated to wear. But truth be known he had long ago grown use to it, in fact he now enjoyed the certain misconceptions it brought about in him. He had carefully nurtured his life, making sure he neither rose nor fell in rank, that he was easily and quickly forgotten after a party or two. Well liked, but not to the point of friendship or mention...It allowed the truth of him free reign. From before a set of crates in front of her, but half a dozen paces his form materialized. It could be called such, for in the shadows and fog he simple was not there, then was. His arms bent behind his back, a rather impatient look upon his face that was obviously now an easily altered mask.:...My Lady Pretentious....:It was a name, sounding regal and fair from his lips yet any of education would know it was not. Still it was currently the fashion in court to name one's daughters and sons after adjectives of beauty and courage, though this was not.:...Thou father is all but ill in your absence, he has sent half the uniformed regiments in search of you. Thy actions shall see you with a right bottom come morning Lady, I am to take you home post haste willing...or not....:His left arm extended, fingers were black in leather, a leather which moaned as if raped as fist uncurled. Behind her the sailors took pause, almost immediately beginning their retreat with stumbling steps that no doubt meant to turn about.:





Then before her the military peacock had appeared. This would cause her forward motion to cease when words were spoken. A slow blink as those chestnut hues would peer up at him, and the name was one that normally would have gave him a hint of that bladed tongue she could so boldly and easily wield; if circumstances were other than what was transpiring at the moment. The cut of the man's cloth would be enough to cause her two shadows to halt in their forward motion as well, she could hear the abrupt nature of their about turn and the low curses being uttered; either because of their fate, or due to the slick surface that hindered a graceful retreat. She'd not look back over her shoulder to ensure the men's departure, it was still the overbearing presence of the man that focus remained upon. She knew fully well he had no clue to whom she was, nor from whence she came. His words a fabrication created on the spot, and no doubt to intercede and halt a situation that could have transpired. The dagger would be seated back into it's home, the grip of her own leather encased hand loosened to withdraw and rest upon that which was offered forth. "Then willing it will be, for I'd not wish to be drug through the streets kicking and screaming to create a scene for you, MiLord." Proper were the words now spoken, though the Irish lilt of heritage would be easily heard. The intermixing of one reared upon the soils of the Emerald Isles in youth, then torn away to approach adulthood upon those of this very Sovereign State. The few steps necessary to place her at his side taken, and here focus would now shift. Not in the direction of the two in retreat, but straight ahead. For now, she'd not thank him for his actions, but join in the charade that was on display. Once the two were away from the area in which they now stood, it would only be then she'd begin any dialect between them. "I'm not pretentious, either." Her voice would remain low when she spoke, loud enough for the man to hear them clearly enough. "That aside, I do thank you for your assistance." Surely the man had no intent on delivering her to her door.

Winter's bite was something that affected all things living, and had so many making choices in which manner to seek how to combat against it. The hearth always offered warmth and comfort, much like that of a large quilt or heavy fur to encompass one's form. Thus would be the reasoning behind tonight's choice, like so many passed and those still to come. The hearths side would be where she had settled, upon what comforts the seating there-by had to offer. Heavy weight of velvet encompassed that small stature with it's emerald and golden hues. Ebon mane drawn back to coil into a tight bun at skull's base, captured in a netting of gold, small jewelry settings of emerald stones decored criss-crossed junctions, capturing the dim light with their reflective nature. Steaming mug of tea was grasped between those long, slender digits, its base to rest atop of lap. For the moment, the warmth which ebbed through the ceramic shell was being absorbed by hands, permitting the liquid to cool to the point of being comfortably sipped. Occasional drifts of chestnut hues as the activies of other patrons were glanced upon, or studied if interest was captured. This night was one in which comfort and relaxation was being sought, and here it was to be found. Away from the Plantation and all the activies of the holidays taking place there, and the castle where much the same was undergoing. A place like this permits one to forget their troubles, to escape one's duties and responsibilities. Shamelessly she used it for just that very purpose.

Eolus had been writing. He did not like the holidays too much, as a rule, because his troupe became even lazier and more cantankerous than usual, and moreover were drunker and fatter than usual, and all over the birth of Christ. Not for the first time, Eolus felt a pang of ingratitude toward the one true faith. It was only a pang. He needed to write, anyway, and he had written. The play was a work of comedy - people did not tolerate tragedy well in the thick of winter - about a rather foolish noble whom, upon being declared useless by all his advisors, had taken desperate steps and summoned a Greek muse, hoping to be inspired to wisdom. Of course, the muse was only inclined to inspire art, not acts of politics. Naturally, a love affair followed - he was still tinkering with that bit. There was a fine line between titillation and censorship and King Henry might be a little touchy about the subject of a wild and unrestrained affair. Anyway, the land fell apart around them. Only one advisor - a fat eunuch, who wore (Eolus had written in and underlined) a yellow tunic which was to stretch over his stomach. In the end, the muse's poetry inspired a sensible woman to love him and take over his affairs. The Eunuch had been exiled, at the Lady's first orders, and the muse had sadly departed, with a lovely ending poem. Eolus had just finished the rough script of it, and so he still was rather dreamy-eyed as he wandered into the King's Alehouse. His fingers of his right hand still curled and stretched and moved absently, as if he were writing yet. For all this, he was aware enough of his surroundings that he pushed the door aside before strolling in, and then paused, blinking absently, as the warm air thawed his face.

Otto Kessler cast an almost bored glance around his surroundings. The Count was exhausted, his efforts in lobbying for Queen Catherine hardly seemed to give the King pause. Not even the veiled threat of war seemed enough to dissuade Henry. His only saving grace was that the Cardinals plea for an annulment for the marriage had been rejected again and again. As long as the Emperor held Rome, the Vatican was a tool the Empire could exploit. ''Wench!'' He barked a serving girl scrambled over to fill his goblet. If he couldn't stop the King politically, then Otto had underhanded ways he could use to embarrass the King's current lover Anne Boleyn. Murder was out of the question at least for now. He'd have to think of something. Otto stared down into the seemingly endless red crimson colored depths that filled his goblet. Now was not the time for plotting or sulking, now was the time for drinking. He needed to relax in a big way. Drinking was one way to relieve the tension.

It would be the bark of a peathingy that gained her attention for a moment. Using the rise of that cup to sip from as chestnuts peered over it's brim in the one's direction. If only she knew, that one of her greatest oppositions were under the same roof. But, she didn't, and her attention upon him was only one of a curious nature. A sip taken of the tea, it would slowly lower and that's when Eolus was espied. She'd wait until his gaze would drift in her direction, and only then would a hand rise to offer a greeting wave and indicate the empty chairs about the table to which she laid claim. Cup to lower, resettling atop her lap with hands still wrapped about the warmth of outer shell. A scuffle between two longshoremen would gain a glance in that direction next. A game of dice that had one gloating and the other making accusations of being cheated. Watching long enough to be content the skirmish wouldn't drift in her direction, and then attention would drift. Though peripheral would keep that wary watch in case things took a turn for the worse.

Eolus sighed at the warmth. It interrupted the clarity of his thoughts, made him feel vaguely and contented, an effect which he resisted by shrugging out of his heavy cloak and glancing purposefully around the commons. Thus, he noticed Carlotta's look and invitation soon enough. He quirked a smile at her, waylaid a wench for a mug of warmed mead, and wandered in the indicated direction. He took note of a few other faces. Otto he'd seen before, he thought. Where..." Ah yes. He'd been the one that pulled that lady to her feet after her fall. Now he looked bored and tired. Eolus stopped short of a sympathetic smile at this, since such an action would be well out of step with his lack of rank, and turned his attention instead to the lady who'd summoned him. He inclined his head to her, hung his cloak over the back of a chair, and dropped to a seat. "Good evening," he said cheerfully. "You're all a-glitter tonight." He indicated her emeralds.

The songbird was somewhere behind her brother, who had done a splay of crooked elbows to part the men at the door. "C'mon, Constance!" The was a hum of indecipherable words from behind him before she advanced forward enough to knock her toes with his heels. "You stopped," she crooned and settled a hand on the narrow plane of his shoulder. He led her through the crowd careful to avoid a stray of eyes at any of the women rushing around to and fro. Last time it had ended in a rather unflattering fall for the both of them. "Just find somewhere to sit, Michael." Melodic roll of her words, licked with ancient riddles. The wisdom beyond her years was spider webbed in her eyes and woven through her voice, though rarely did people take the time to notice. "Stay away from whoever his fighting. I would be quite the mess if I could not see nor walk." Her smile flared up, but was knocked down a touch when they came to a halt. Her brother, of course, had been under strict instruction from her father: stay away from the son of a pregnant dog German. So Michael stood, staring the Count down and ignoring Constance's inquiries. -d-

Otto grimaced, the distraction of the longshoreman stirred irritation in his heart. It was only a matter of time before fists flew and furniture was breaking followed by the snap of brittle bones. It reminded him of the glory of battle that he would never experience again. A glare was directed towards his crippled leg as he eagerly watched the first punch land sending the second man reeling. The bouncer was quick to put out the fire before it turned into an inferno. Both men were tossed outside and into the mud followed by the raucous cheers of the taverns occupants. Poor Michael, it was too bad that his sister was not blind and deaf. '' Constance!'' His voice cutting through the chatter of the tavern like a hot knife through butter. Otto had been used to commanding troops in the thick of battle where a booming voice was important for issuing orders. '' Over here!'' He said making a motion of his arm towards the empty seat at his table. Those twin pools locking eyes with Michael. The Count entering a stare down contest with the little boy.

"Dinner party in which the Head Chancellor was guest of honor." Offered in explanation for her fancy state of dress. She'd omit her accusation of her father doing a little ass kissing with the formal affair given in the man's honor. A glance to his hands and a brow rose. "You've been writing." Not an inquire, but a statement upon notation of the tell tale signs. Ink stains upon fingers were a dead give away, she should know. Curious gaze lifted to meet his. "Care to share?" She was quite serious about her interest in what he wrote. The written word was a great companion to the Barrister. The wisdom it offered, as well as a tool utilized to relax and escape the world about her. Not one prone to fantasies, she was not naive to the ways of the world. In fact, if she would take the time to put quill to parchment, a book she could indeed write of her own adventures which she survived. She knew he was in the process of working up a play, it being the topic of their last conversation shared. A comedy if she remembered rightly.

"Oh, hm—" He looked at his right hand, which was indeed ink stained. His left hand was likewise marked, for he did not entirely pay attention to his hands. "Yes, well, New Year's is a good time for the launch of a new play. Something for people to enjoy once the mid-winter fun has died down a bit," he murmured, still sounding faintly preoccupied. The wench dropped by to hand him a steaming mug of cider, and he paid her, and, looking into the steam, came back to himself a bit more and quirked a brow at Carlotta's question. She was a curious woman. He really did not understand the business of reading plays. Who did that' Her, apparently, but still. People generally only wished to borrow the manuscript of the play if they wished to steal it. He eyed her briefly, wondering....It was unlikely. She hadn't even tried to be flattering or seductive. "Share what, precisely?" he asked eventually.

Poor Constance. It interactions did seem to point in one direction, when the truth was most certainly in the other. Her hand drifted down the pale blue fabric of her dress and the white beneath it. Common clothes, nothing spectacular, but they hugged every curve like a second skin before it flared out at her hips. A hand pressed over the top of her chest, gently pulling the fabric up slightly. "I would have dressed in something nicer if I had known that you were going to be here," she admitted against his jaw, before her head pulled away slightly. "I have wanted to spend time with you, but my father has been keeping a very close eye on me." Her hand gave his a delicate squeeze, and inclined her head toward him. "I missed your company."

Oh how appearances could be so deceiving. If only Otto would have known someone thought Constance was a prostitute. A prostitute being pimped out by her twelve year old brother. It was the kind of thing that would have made the Count laugh hysterically. '' I know. Your father is a very..tough man. It was foolish of me to cross him in the way that...'' A pause given as he groped for the words. '' we did..'' A sigh escaped his lips as he teased his lips against her neck. His breath warm on her neck. '' Are you going to be anywhere near Court tomorrow so I can see you?'' He asked one eyebrow arching.

Glance directed over to Eolus and she'd offer him a kind smile. Then upon Garan as he approached the table focus turned and the smile directed upon him. Eolus gave the invitation in words she had offered in motion. "A good evening MiLord Garan." No introduction need be made on her part, as the men were quite capable the task. Though it did prove one thing, she was a woman of her word. Having told the man she'd see to his introduction to the Playwright if such presented itself. Her pact made and kept. For now, she'd maintain silence by sipping her tea, listening to the men as they spoke, curious as to where the introduction might lead.

" Apparently I already have one. " His bottom lip curled upward at the offer of having a seat. "...but thank you, I will make use of this one. " Tapping the top half of the chair's spine he'd been dragging alongside him. Planting his chair closer to them, he'd lean forward in order to shake Blunt's hand expecting compliance, only to pause at hearing him state, "The King's own playwright." Out of the blue coming from Otto's table a voice would be heard exclaiming in a rather mocking tone, " Surre, you are the kings own playwright, but is the reason you are the kings OWN playwright because you're the ONLY playwright' " " Be quiet fool, " snarled Garan in the direction of the invisible voice. The ventriloquist forced a shrug, saying back to Eolus, while continuing to grin, " I believe sir you are most likely the kings favorite playwright, ignore the fool. " Settling down upon the tufted seat of his chair, his cane would rest against one corner of the table. His brows creasing his forehead as he'd sideways greet Lady Carlotta, " You look marvelous lady in this light, I'd enjoy seeing more of you in the daylight hours. " Whether or not he'd still be shaking Eolus hand would remain to be seen, either way, he'd finalize his entrance, " I am known as Garan the Great, the cutting edge of the entertainment world. Well met sir. " " D

Eolus allowed the dragged along chair a look, and the corners of his mouth quirked into something of an unwilling smile, and he inclined his head. "You are truly — be-set," he acknowledged, and was startled to hear the mocking exclamation. He looked over, and his brow furrowed slightly. He had not made any enemies that he was aware of — and it wasn't even a very good insult. Moreover, he did not see who had said it. The gentleman and his blind lady were much too occupied with one another. And here, now, was Garan to the rescue. He slid a look back to the man, shook his hand firmly. "Garan the Great," he repeated ponderously. He wasn't entirely sure he'd heard of the man, which meant little enough, since he'd only arrived in the King's city recently. It would have been better form to exclaim of the stories he'd heard, but right now, he felt more like testing the man, and did so. "You are the cutting edge, are you? And just what, pray tell, do you cut?" The sally was light, and seemingly did not require all his attention. He slid a look to Carlotta, to appraise her reaction. He wondered what she thought of this Garan.

"Do not say that, Otto. He cannot control every aspect of my life." Her lips brushed to his. Certainly, the voice hadn't come from their table, there had been no point for him to speak! Of course, the voice brought a lift of her brows. "Is someone trying to start a fight' How horrible." Oblivious, really, Constance was content to keep close to Otto and enjoy the warmth of his body, especially with the twist of cool wind that spilled in with each opening the door. "I would like, if you would, perhaps you could talk to my father. I imagine that he will not have such a dislike for you, once you speak to him. You, much like him, were a soldier. He will respect that." She just wanted her father and him to be on good terms, because she certainly enjoyed spending time with him and had no desire to stop anytime soon. "I may be near court tomorrow, I will make Michael take me out. I would not miss a chance to spend time with you." -d-

'' Did he just call me a fool!"'' If Otto had one fault it was pride and Garan had just made a foolish mistake in wounding Otto Kessler's. There was the sound of a scraping chair as he made his way to his feet. ' I will speak to your father later.'' He said leaning slightly on that knobbed cane as the 'cripple' made his way towards Garan the Great. '' On your feet.'' He said grasping the man by his collar and wrenching him out of the chair in one quick movement before releasing him. '' If it is your intent to start a quarrel with me sir...then I would ask you at least have the decency to speak to me face to face. Instead of skulking here like a coward. Garan the Great' You couldn't make the local village idiot laugh. If anyone is the fool it is you.'' The knobbed head of that cane was pushed towards Garan's chest. '' If you would like to settle this with fists rather than words I would be more than happy to oblige you. '' Otto was a big man. Despite his injury he still loomed over Garan and his injury wouldn't stop him from punching out what was left of Garan's teeth.

Cup lowered and a narrow eyed glance would be spared in the direction of the voice. Just as she was about to turn attention back upon present company, the one across the way would rise and create a scene. Cup would be quickly set upon the table as the man grabbed up Garan at her side, and she would then rise. Though not to retreat to some corner, oh no, that Irish temper had been sparked. "You are out of line Sir!" Turning on the man in Garan's defense. This must be the form of the insult directed at the Playwright, and now the man attacks the Entertainer when the man did nothing more than defend the Playwright with a compliment. "I suggest you step away before I order you hauled away." No idle threat to be made, it was within her power to do so, and she'd hesitate not. "The only one starting a problem here, is you!" That inner fire glimmered within the Barristers chestnut hues. Yes, bold she was, uncommon to the meek and mild women of their time. Then again, she held a position that was not easily gotten by the fairer sex, let alone recognition in the trade. A step would place her between the two, her back to Gar and facing the threatening form. What would he do' Hit her" A mistake that would be made on his part if he laid a finger upon her fair skin; and not just due to the powers of the Court.

The look of comfort would spread across Garan's features. His hat being removed from off his head would come to rest upon his lap. Twisting his sight towards the rapidly approaching Otto. He'd lean back upon the stems of his chair legs to see if the man had protection to call upon. Before allowing himself to rest easy, however he would let the 'cripple' pull him from out of his seat. Standing firm while the man turned rowdy he did all he could to not smirk, but...alas, some things were impossible. " Try not to wrinkle this shirt it was tediously sewn together by a woman who's crippled son, laughed for the first in years upon my spending time with him. " His fingers would have wrapped round Otto's grasp helping him to release him. " Oh..you heard the fool's mockery as well" " Nodding to Otto, after all he'd thought it might have been extremely difficult to figure out it was Garan whom had tossed his voice in Otto's direction. He assumed he'd figured it out, still, Gar reached for his own cane. " A duel is it you wish' I'd suggest...sir, you're position be that of a man learns to serve all men , rather then be such a 'respecter of persons. Tis a sin you know in God's eyes. You judged me for my appearance the last time we met. I'll not allow you to continue to judge men as though there blood was less pure then your own. Yet...you'd willingly put men like myself on the front lines to fight a bloody death in order to help keep your riches and station in life. It's ...pathetic. Do I make myself clear" " ?D

Eolus stood up when Otto approached, something between deference and caution motivating him. The man dressed and acted the part of quality. That was to say, Eolus suspected that he was better bred than any of them here at this table. Now, Eolus had little enough in the way of awe for the nobility, but he had a finely developed sense of danger. Not only of physical danger, either. Displeasing his patrons overtly could result in theaters closing, in a lack of patronage from the nobility altogether. These were not consequences he intended to explore, which was why a thin grimace escaped the carefully controlled mask of his face when Garan did not immediately cough out an apology, when Carlotta stood up and gave the man orders. Thank God she was a woman, at least. Garan, though, was doing none of them any favors. He took a step back, turned his face into studied calm, and watched

He caught the pouch, clenching it tightly in his fingers. When Garan went on, he put his hand over his face, dragged it down his face. He was coming dangerous close to treason, if the wrong ears misheard. There were plenty of ears willing to mishear in a tavern, too. He dropped his hand, shook his head in disbelief. "Perhaps when you have had a bit less to drink, old boy. I think the spirits must have run away with your tongue," he said decisively. Blame it on liquor. It didn't always work, but it was a start. He gave Carlotta a wry glance, when she declared her title. Evidently, he did not find that terribly reassuring. "I bid you both good evening," he concluded, before turning and making his exit swiftly.

A glance over her shoulder when she felt that tap, she was listening to the dialog being shared between the two men. Still, she'd keep her tongue on the matter, as it seemed it was at an explosive height. The indication of a seat would gain Gar a thankful smile. Though she was disheartened that the Playwright was departing. That Otto man had ruined the entire night, and she would now see a way to make the man pay, one way or another. There were many things that were unknown about the young woman now placed as King's Barrister, a side of her that none would ever see. She'd be making another trip to the docks after the stroke of midnight, only this time it would hold a purpose. Not just a visit to stare longingly at the silhouette of a particular ship which presently sat idle. Slowly she'd turn to settle upon the offered chair.

" Should I sit in it' " He'd crack a smile, while pulling another chair in alongside it. Now there would be two chairs, one that she'd graciously filled, the other he'd left open. Rather he took to creating a mild half circle of empty chairs. Much like the rippling one might see when a single stone has been tossed into a calm water way. It's effect fanning outward in a much broader way...he'd then take the seat directly next to her. Fanning outward his arm towards the other empty chairs, he'd comment; " In case we get visitors from the castle" " A voice would be heard behind them blurting out, " Run run, Otto will surely see you punished for speaking boldly! Run fool run..BUT before ye go, how about having a drink with the fine lady. " His ventriloquist talents put to good use once more, he'd lean his arm over the chair's, " Shall I offer to purchase you something that will help you sleep better this evening lady Carlotta, brave warrior of this realm' " An easy going smile grooved his lips upward. His fancy cane slipped between his bowed out legs as he lazily leaned back against his chair. " D

Hand would indicate the other unoccupied chairs. "Of course, MiLord. I hold no discord against you." A glance towards the door and then back upon him attention returned. A blink as she heard a voice from behind, and attention would shift over her shoulder to try and find the source. She knew not what a ventriloquist was, nor had seen one in her life, hence why she had no clue of what transpired. A light chuckle to sound, glad to have the uplift from the heavy storm that had encompassed the commons not but moments ago. Amusement danced now in those chestnut hues, which held the fire of her Irish temper not long ago. "Brave warrior isn't a title I could, or would lay claim to. A sharp tongue is only good to a degree." Resting back upon her seat. "Though I would not turn down a brandy if one was offered." She'd indicate her cup of tea now held in hand. "Or a touch of Irish whiskey added to this." A deep slow intake of breath as full relaxation was now gained. Now perhaps the evening will return to the calm in which it started.

Following the direction of her gaze he'd follow it back towards her only to land upon her tea cup. He'd produce two coins, from her ear. " This should do us both rather well. " Sliced between his forefinger and the evangelist finger the coins pressed. Rising he'd make his way towards that long mahogany bar. Placing the order for a brandy with a touch of whiskey and a milk curd. They didn't have that, so he settled for a foamy ale. At least he didn't come up short in the coin department. Rather then have their drinks delivered he'd walk them back offering her the crystal like glass hosting her drink, while pulling from his own inside a tankard. " You know, I rather enjoyed this evening's banter. It sent blood bursting through my veins. Reminding me that there is life after war and loss. " Pressing himself back into his seat, his cane would be pushed aside. " What do you think of my clothing, a bit overly fashionable or too understated for an entertaining fool?" - D

A polite smile as she accepted the glass offered. "Thank you, MiLord." Her voice held a kind nature to it as well. His comment would have her looking over at him with a quirked brow. Life after war and loss" Would seem there was more to this man than what he presented to the world around him. It was then she'd take a gander at his attire. "I guess it's alright, if you are looking to stand out in a crowd." Focus lifted so her eyes met his. "Although, I seriously doubt you need flashy attire to achieve that position."

Chuckling deep into his tankard he'd simply nod at her comment about his achievements. Lowering the rim, " I figured the last time you'd witnessed me within the confinements of this establishment I was rather....drab in appearance wound up finding myself useful, " Shouldering the back half of his chair, " I worked for a smithy for about 6 days, see this chin. "He'd point at it, " Use to have a 3 inch beard remember" " Shaking his head like a slow pendulum, he'd grin, " it got burned off, those smithy's can really take the heat. " Another wry grin formed, his lips licking the excess fringe of ale. It seemed they were beginning to speak to each other with dual metaphors. " Tell me something about you lady Carlotta, other then you are a barrister, what would you claim to be your most favorite thing to experience" " "D

Addition-:His particular station was one of middle ground that allowed ease of excuse in both the high class, and low class. More particular it had it's advantages with being capable of both keeping his head down, and lifting his nose up when the situation called for it, which it often did in his chosen extracurricular activities. Tonight was nothing more than a pension for gambling and a fine appreciation of the finer sex. He was well enough to enjoy debauchery now and then, the difference in his mentality was that he made no attempt to cover up his actions or preach down from a tier in falsehood of such clarity that it threatened to blind a man. No he was a seasoned veteran of only lying when it suited him. It was nothing to remark, really, just another man entering a tavern filled with some his like. His garb was deceivingly less fancy than a previously adorned uniform, simple vest of royal blue and leggings to match, offset by a deep bronze hued accents in the form of shoulder duster, and buttons. A man of medium to medium low wealth, made currently stable by the well groomed appearance. What made his entrance, perhaps, more noticeable was the line taken by his long of limb legs, and stamina found within them. It was with ease he navigated the crowd, his hands clasped behind back to better show case the broad width of shoulders. It would be rude, but he suffered the consequences of injecting into the current conversation.:...She is quite the actress, and playwright...:Came the baritone voice over the shoulder of the chuckling man, thus it would be the woman in green and gold whom would see him first. A nod was given to first that woman, then that man whiles his steps, quite fluidly, took him about the pair and to the chair on the opposite side of the lady that was currently unoccupied. But quickly became a lavished throne by the exaggerated sprawl of the man atop it that spoke arrogance, what a fine display he had going tonight. His comment seemed to be the limited engagement, and entrance for now. No doubt the lady grasped it's meaning.:

"Hmm. Not what I would call the proper way to shave." Bit of a grin as she'd make light of the situation as he did. His question about herself was in the process of being considered for a proper answer, when one spoke forth in that male timber. It would be the answer which gained a glance up at Adolph with a rise of brow. A light chuckle then to sound and a slow shake of her head. "You honor me too much with a comment such as that, MiLord." Responded to Adolph, a glance then towards Garan. "If any were to bear the title of brave warrior, as you earlier exclaimed. I would have to bestow it upon this man. He saved my life the other night." She'd allow the men to make the introductions between themselves, as they were quite capable of such.

Mary probably should not have been out....but she was, keeping to the shadows to hurry from the cold of night into the warmth and protection of the tavern. Surely there would be someone there she recognized, and if not, well....she could make a new acquaintance. Lifting a hand and pressing it to the door, she let herself into the alehouse. That hand went to her head to pull the hood back from her face to allow her to look around. It was an ever-curious gaze, and she wore her usual soft smile. Seeing Carlotta, and then Garan, the smile brightened. "Good evening, friends." ** "Thank you for saving the lady which sits between us. Names, Garan of......here and now. " His cuffed sleeve would dangle loosely beneath his wrist which was covered by the corvlett jacket still being worn even after such ..hot debates..

Listening to Carlotta's speech, she quieted a moment. Fulfilling tasks of the Crown — she almost scoffed but she tried to keep that collected mask upon her features, her eyes would always betray her, though. "I have not met the Playwright, no. But I did dare to see the theater. It is a beautiful structure! I can imagine that His Majesty very much enjoys his pictures, however I wonder that he does not prefer to watch from the front. It would not be so difficult to create a Lord's room in the second or third gallery as opposed to having it atop the tiring house." At such a lavish offer of opinion, her eyes widened a little in surprise, and then more at Carlotta's face paling. "My lady, are you quite well?" She leaned forward and touched a tender hand to the woman's arm. However, with the lean she caught the aroma of the drink and she, herself, coughed once softly. **

Inner Sanctum-:The joy of generalizations, and the inner filing cabinet of Adolph's was the changes and alterations that could and did take place but was not needed in this case, as those inner files stated Garan was interested in his appearance to others, simply put he was putting on a show. Mary was quite contrary to her current position, and Carlotta had a lot growing in her garden that was a little hazy at the moment. Though was starting to clear up, she worked for the crown. She had connections with shipping, they had met at the docks and she had been staring at the ships after all...and the way she carried herself had made it obvious she was well accustomed to them, and the things around them. But he was brought from his inner tasks at the sound of the coughs, his smile widening as his close seat brought the scent of his guess flooding into nostrils. It gave him the opening he had been sure would come.:...That is a most interesting flavor of tea Lady Carlotta, from whence are the leaves" The Scots"...:O he knew he was wrong, but then again that was the point. Attention now shifted from the Lady as she regained herself, instead falling upon Mary like the raptor with a fine mouse in it's sights.:...Tell me more of the theater if you would be so kind Lady Mary, I have yet to see of it myself. I hear only those in good standing with his Majesty may attend of late, many in his employment, is it true his loving wife oft does not attend"...:The hens, would not sleep well tonight.:

Quick nod of her head to Mary in response, for she did recover from that surprise, an accusing glance towards the snoring Garan, as he was the source from which it came. "Good question, MiLord." Raspy response to Adolph. Sitting back once her fit had passed, the cup would remain upon the table and there left, untouched the rest of the night. It would be Adolph's last question that had her looking over at him with the slight quirk of a brow. Why would such information interest the man' It wasn't like she knew a lot about him. Their previous meeting had been a somewhat forced affair, and conversations cordial at best. Now it was she who held that curious edge,silence maintained as she'd simply listen to the information passed between Mary and himself. In many ways she was like him, one who listened and watched. Questions usually were spawned for reasons of accessing knowledge, and perhaps she was mistaken by the role in which he served this land.

Put on the spot in such a way made her a bit ill at ease, but she straightened. "Good sir, I do not make it my concern to dip into the affairs of the Crown." LIAR! "I have only recently returned from France with His Majesty's sister, the Princess Mary. However, I am happy to tell you about the structure, or what I know of it. Perhaps His Majesty's playwright would give you a tour" But if I may pry, why would such a thing concern" Is it not His Majesty's concern, and the church?" Or was she addressing a man of the cloth and was unaware" **

Information-:Perhaps the question that should be asked is, why would he want them to think he was interested in such information' There were always two sides to a coin, no matter the similarities that one might perceive. His smile was a true thing that never faltered. His voice responded quickly, and easily...but there was enough pause to make it appear as if he had not expected such a comment.:...By all means Lady, I do not make it my concern merely...:A pause to make it seem he contemplated the words, really he thought of hers. Princess Mary, France.:...I am what you could call...obsessed with his Majesty, and her Majesty respectfully. Their glory and...:A curl of his lips further.:...Majesty overwhelms me, and I imagine that the building must be an amazing structure specifically with their presence within it. But what do I go on about, here you are counted in the friendship of her Lady Princess Mary, I do declare Lady that you easily impress. Your writings must be quite good reads...

For a long moment she watched him, her silence maintained, a glance then towards Mary. "Excuse me a moment, I'm in need of a replacement for my tainted drink." Rising and collecting her mug in hand, she'd work her way the short distance to the bar's end. When the serving wench neared, the two women's heads would bend close to speak in soft tones. The mug would be given to the serving maid, who nodded her understanding to the words being shared. Had to be a discussion about her drink and it's strength for the time it took between the two. Soon her mug replaced with one fresh and lacking the liquor as the previous. Several coins would be pressed into the young woman's hand, who offered another nod and smile to the Barrister, before the two parted ways. The maid to disappear within the kitchen, and she to return to her seat before the hearth.

She smiled at the seeming compliment from the Fox. "Many thanks. I enjoy writing, coming up with stories to amuse, but it is merely an enjoyment and little more. Lady Carlotta believe I ought to try and have them sold." She smiled fondly to the Barrister as the woman returned to her seat. "She is a friend of the most loyal and wonderful kind: she has the ultimate faith in her friends." Eyes of forget-me-nots turned back to the man. "I ought to correct you, however. It is not my writing that brings me into Her Highness's confidence." **

Correct-:It was with the most avid attention that Mary was listened too, in his facial expressions made it seem as if she were the only person present in the tavern. As if she, were the center of his world. It was perhaps meant to be a flattering thing. However it was not true, entirely at least, he made note of the Lady Carlotta's departure. He also made note that it took her a bit longer than it should to return...gauged on the two times Garan had risen. That was shelved into the back of his mind, along with the dozens of other factored pieces of information that as of yet did not make sense, or have place. His eyebrow rose, as if surprise flooded him. It even rested on his eyes, and across his features.:...I shall have to agree with her Lady Carlotta, thy writings increasingly sound fantastic. If you do decide to sell them, you must make it known to me post haste. I have yet to find a writer I like within the city that I...truly enjoy. :Information, misinformation, truth, and falsehood. It was rather like a dance.:...A writer, a friend of the royal family, a beautiful woman, a skilled conservationist. I must say Lady you are a surprise in such a drab night as this, I would not be surprised if it was your amazing skill at dance that brought you to her Highness's confidence at this point...

Her return would have her capture the comment Mary made to Adolph. "Not so much faith in friends as it is in talent, Milady." Written word was her forte', books her obvious passion by the weight of them she often trudged around with. A common enough sight within the castle walls, be she seated at a table in the library, or nose deep in a volume while slowly walking around the castle grounds. Now she'd call Adolph on one of his comments, her focus to turn upon Mary as she'd offer that genuine smile. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to permit him the honor of reading one before it's published." Here she'd also call Mary out on the carpet about their own discussion days prior. "Perhaps if he states as I have, it'll convince you more into publishing your fine works." That said, a smile offered to both, then that mug would be lifted to gently blow upon the heated surface of that it contained. Wisps of steam to dance about features, a glance spared towards the bar area, casually. Cup tilted to slowly sip from before it would lower to settle upon her lap, slender digits entrap it between them as the shell's warmth was being absorbed.

Mary glanced warily over at Carlotta before gently shaking her head. "No, my stories to not belong in the hands of the public. Truly, Lady, I think you shall be the only that ever reads them." And only after making sure to catch the woman's gaze did she glance back towards the man. "You flatter too easily, sir, but thank thee."

Pity-:Ah but Mary was attractive, a ripe piece of ill experienced information. He had to stop himself in his excitement, but Carlotta made it easy...she after all cut him off, with purpose. But doing so showed her own hand that she truly held an interest in what he only wanted to appear to hold interest in. If nothing else the night was turning out entertaining, the fox had his own intentions and desires each as varied as the next and each interconnected in such an odd pattern as the thief and the victim are.:...I do not flatter, I only offer truth my Lady...The Lady Carlotta has the right of it, you shall have to endeavor to send me some of your writings...:With this he repositioned himself once more in his chair, as a mock throne. His attention, by the gaze of black eyes, shifting first to one and then the other Lady which was not difficult given their own seats. :..How is your drink Lady Carlotta? It did take them long enough to retrieve it...

"I truly think you should share at least one, Mary. So talented you are." Glance at the woman, and she could very well gain lashings for this next bold comment. "It would be a sin to keep it hidden." Stated as the mug had only lowered slightly. About to lift it for another sip to be enjoyed, when his questions would come forth, in combination with the comment. Lowering further as her attention was now fully upon him, and she did offer the warmth of a smile. "Not nearly as breath-taking as the first." Bit of a smirk did touch her lips at that moment, the smile easily enough to return. "Had nothing to do with the drink, as much as it did in securing a room for Garan, and the muscle it would entail to carry him up to such and deposit him without harm or molestation." Not meaning of the sexual kind, but of the man being rolled along the way. Which was truth all the same, but was it in totality' Only one other would know, and the Barrister offered nothing more, so noted as the mug was lifted to sip from again.

"If I may have a tea with lemon, if you would be so kind." Very unlike most women, she stood to her feet and scooped the coins she'd left for the dozing performer and took them to Carly, leaning to press a friendly kiss to her cheek as she did so, or so it would seem, when In truth she whispered near the woman's ear. "I do not trust this man - he frightens me." Then she turned to return to her table, but stopped part way and looked at the lone drinker. She shouldn't " everything in her breeding scolded and practically yelled against it. But she would. She crossed towards the table, still stopping a respectful distance, and dipped her head to him. "Pardon me, but if you would like to join our company..." It was simply an offer. The young woman hated to see people alone; she had done enough herself to know it was unpleasant if it was not out of choice. "But if you prefer your privacy, I of course respect it." Another small bow of her head and only then did she return to the table where she sat before, gracefully taking her seat.

Play-:A pity, but neither took in the offered bait. No he couldn't even Mary to continue her talk, too interested in the newest arrival. A pity, the woman was such a joy for his thoughts, smart but not too smart...inexperienced but with experienced background. It was like a child with a toy, sadly the toy was in the hands of another at the moment. The woman in green was to much of a guarded presence, it rubbed off on Mary.:...Brandy my Lady, thank you...: Like Mary he supplied coin, but instead placed it upon the table for her turn so as not to speak that she was poor and could not amend the moments coinage, and to say that it was done it after thought as if such coin was a small thing to him. Brandy because it was essentially distilled wine, it had a complex flavor and a high level of fire. It was d**n near impossible to poison because of it, and one wondered why it was becoming popular in the current era. Besides this he was silent, let them bring him into the conversation if they so wished it. After all, there was little flirting going on and more linguistic joust. Alas, it seemed his bed would go cold tonight. So much for being debauch, the fox would have to wait on certain desires. :

Edmund was surprised, naturally, at the lady's approach. He stood up as she came up to the table of course, likewise respectful, and listened attentively, though with the same smile. He had been unable to resist the expression ever since his brother, the Viscount, had told him to wipe that expression of his face. After all, he did not like his brother very much. He folded one arm behind his back and held his glass of wine at ease while he listened. "That is very kind of you," he murmured, at the conclusion of her offer. In truth, even, he thought, after the courtesy was over his tongue. The young woman had indeed intended him a kindness. He considered the offer a moment more, then collected his bottle of wine and followed her a polite distance behind, back to her table. He was wearing mourning, of course, and therefore was dressed in a wealth of black. His coat was black, and so too the shirt beneath it, and his breeches and boots and gloves and cloak. He felt like a crow. "Good evening," he said to the man at the table, and stood by to see if the invitation would be seconded.

The coins accepted and with an arched brow she looked to Mary, though she would grin slightly. Glance towards Adolph when his preference was named, a nod showing she heard before she headed for the bar. Two cups of tea and a snifter of Cognac to be ordered, and while she awaited them to be placed on the bar, a quiet conversation was being shared with the server standing near. When the drinks were delivered, the coins Mary gave her would be set upon the bar, along with several others from her own purse kept hidden upon her person. Although evident was her station in life, by her mannerisms, quality of that forest green and gold velvet gown worn. The adornments of emerald stones in jeweled settings to encrust the netting which hugged that ebon bun at the base of skull, a skill not oft held by those of her station, would now be exhibited. Both mugs to be captured by the side handle in one hand with perfect balance, the snifter collected in that which was free. Choosing to deliver the drinks herself, as the server headed in the opposing direction. The cup with lemon set within Mary's reach, a glance up at the man who now stood near would be noticed. "Good evening MiLord." It would be the dialect of words that offered more information on the woman. That Irish lilt was something easily distinguished. "Do sit and relax, no sense of formalities in a place like this." Moving passed to now offer Adolph his drink, would it surprise him the quality chosen" Or would it be expected" Once her burden was tended to, only then would she reclaim her seat, sitting between Mary and Adolph, upon the chairs which rested like a crescent moon, before the blazing warmth of the hearth.

Greetings and drink-:His voice rose easy and calm.:...Good evening...:He said no more, as it was lavished out by the Lady Carlotta, naming her obviously the current bearer of the party so to speak. It was fine with him, it would and could mean certain advantages. The drink was taken by it's stem like flute and brought first to be scented, immediately upon doing so his weight shifted. Free hand sliding within the confines of blue leggings to retrieve a handful more of coins, three to be exact. :...Borderies Hors d'Age, you spoil me Lady...:Though it was his coin on the table for her to take, and impolite for her not to do so. It was more show than anything else, he showed no surprise nor any particular dislike of the drink. Boreries being the region of which the grapes originally came from, the smallest. It was famed for it's nutty aroma and flavor, as well as the slightest scent of violets and it's off iris hues. In addition Hors d'Age meant it was at least six years in a cask, marked by it's deep color and strong aroma.: Is this yet another of your talents Lady Carlotta"....

Mary laughed merrily. "My lady is a magician of sorts, are you not?" The girl gave the woman a bright smile before blues shifted to their standing company. She'd noted the garb before; perhaps it was what prompted her to act so impulsively. "Indeed, do sit. One cannot relax nearly as well while standing..." The tea was accepted gratefully and cool hands encircled the warm cup for a moment before it was properly lifted to her lips for a small dainty sip. "Thank thee very much, my lady." **

"Thank you," he said, replying to both the lady - for she was obviously a lady - and the man, whom he was not entirely sure of. It scarcely mattered. He would be on nothing less than good behavior around the pair of ladies. Setting down his cup of wine and the bottle carefully onto a small side table adjacent to one of the chairs, he removed his cloak, hung it over the back of the chair, and sat, still with the blank smile tilting his mouth. He looked at his company. It took an effort to do that, to look as well as to listen, and he soon gave it up and had a drink of wine. The particulars did not much matter. "I am pleased to join you all," he said. "It is a fine evening to sit before the fire. Might I know whose company I keep?"

A grin to form as focus rested upon Adolph. "I asked for the best." And she was a woman who got what she asked for, or wanted. She'd notice the coins, and they would be taken, although to be discreetly handed over to the server before she departed for the night. "I just assumed you were a man of distinct tastes." Direct eye contact, the gentle nature of that smile, until her attention was drawn to the one who newly joined their little group before the fire. "Carlotta Basinstoke." Responded to the man, a lean to offer her hand in greeting, proper social graces and all. "And the name of the one who join's us?" Inquiring of his in return. No title offered, no indication of status beyond that visually obvious...

One or two-:Gaze drifted along the three, the night was getting long in the tooth and as the distinct flavor slid along his tongue he debated courses of action.:..Adolph...:Was the name given as the glass left his pale tiers, no title or humor there. It did not take his observational skills to note the man was troubled, he wouldn't doubt it if Mary, even, noticed. His first name caused assumptions, it suited him to leave it at that. His recline was still an arrogant thing of comfort that held no real regal standing or pompous display. It wasn't even particular polite, as his spread arms offered showcase of male outline in form of flattened pectorals and broad shoulders. God forbid, but his legs were even spread in male comfort. Thank the King himself there was a table to keep his modest in tact amongst so many innocent people. This very thought brought a smile to those lips of his. Carlotta was no innocent, their meeting on the docks had said as much. Mary was just...too innocent, she came off as far too pure and that made the truth known she was blacker than coal in that soul. From the looks of it their new companion would be passed out and pissing himself before the evening completed, a whole bottle of wine he had ordered upon entering and yet it was obvious now he had not intended for companions to show themselves. Sinners gathered for a fantasy feast.:...Lady Mary...:He injected around the greeting of Carlotta to the new comer so as to stimulate conversation, and be polite.:...What must one do to gain the honor of a glimpse to the soul"...:There was still threads to pluck:

Her gaze shifted to the Fox and she almost felt her skin crawl for such a question, and she fought herself to be as kind and respectful as ever. "I know not, to be honest, Captain. I had thought you would know." It had merely been a line tossed onto the table to keep her silly works to herself and away from public humiliation. Truly, how would one gain that kind of trust' Time" Conversation' A second questioning about the subject' "I cannot imagine that a man would truly desire to read such." Clearly, he hadn't realized what she meant by 'stories'. **

He knew who Carlotta was, anyway, and there was a flicker of recognition and surprise in the general dark dullness of his eyes, soon gone. Of course he knew who she was. The uproar at the Baroness becoming a barrister had been talked about relentlessly. When she offered her hand, he stood up to bow over it with a kiss that touched only the air above her skin, as was proper, before relinquishing it back to her. If Mary offered her hand, he would of course perform the same courtesy. "Edmund Cardross," he offered, following the form Carlotta had set and leaving out his title. "A pleasure to meet you all." He returned to his seat. The name Cardross might be familiar to Adolph, were he a military man. The late Viscount Cardross had been a noted General, in his Majesty's army. Edmund had not really been expected to have to exercise much in the way of thought, and the question that Adolph posed took him by surprise. He had another drink of wine. He did not sip it, indeed, but took swallows of it, as one might drink water. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked eventually.

When her hand was released, she'd resettle upon her seat. That flicker was noted, but no comment made. She knew well the stories that circulated about her gained position, and the vicious tongues that too oft placed it on her gaining special privileges for services rendered; and not the legal kind. True, a form of deceit was utilized, it was yet not a requirement to state gender when a letter of intent was placed for a position. Her foot in the door, that cunning mind and ability to utilize the spoken word, is what kept that door from slamming directly in her face. Back to her silence she befell, when the conversation permitted her to do such once more. Mug taken between hands, to be lifted and slowly sip of it's contents.

Comedy, Tragedy, And Drama-:It was everything he could do, not to laugh at the mans greeting of Carlotta. The man of course did nothing wrong, in fact he did it quite correctly and as was expected of him. It is just one of those things that seemed out of place in a tavern. Yet any further thought upon the man's mannerisms was pushed aside by the name levied, it explained much. He had never been a fan of Cardross, he wasn't a fan of anyone of such high station really. But the man had some brains, and no one save a select few deserved the recent events to fall upon the name. : My Lord Cardross, you enter a conversation laborly placed out. Allow me to explain to the best of my limited abilities...:That smile was the attractive sort, the sort to turn a heart or two...or a stomach.:...The Lady Carlotta...:O how he noted that flicker, and it would be stored away for future use.:...Was being questioned about her...personal sort by a man earlier who has since fallen asleep. I appeared about this time, and posed my own questions which she deftly parried and her respond...thrust did label with compliments the Lady Mary's' writings to which I politely professed a desire to read, repeatedly did the Lady Carlotta use this as her shield and offense to belie any delivery of knowledge which could damage her standing, or aid enemies which apparently exist...:Sip of the Brandy, though if any sought to speak that would be cut of as he continued.:..So in turn did I offer my own compliments, and desire of written word. To which Mary eventually understood Carlotta's fear of information and mistook it as a fear of me to proclaim that only those honored, may read such for it is a window to her soul. Now I must profess I have no desire to truly read her works, it is not that she is not a skilled writer. For I am sure it is an amazing read, but as a man it is of little interest to me...but as the wolf you proclaim me, seeing into a woman's soul with such ease as reading the written word bared before me is an interesting subject to which I must proclaim a harsh, harsh desire...:Once more a sip of the Brandy, act 1, scene 2. :...How is the family My Lord Cardross" Do send the general my regards, he was a kind fellow...

Sweet Jesus, the man was insufferable! Mary wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle upon the seat of her chair. Indeed, despite her stick straight posture her shoulders did drop and her chin dip downwards a bit as if to hide. Hands were folded in her lap and the nails of her thumbs gently ran in turn one across the top of the other as her gaze watched her fingers. She was quiet as a mouse, for as small as a mouse she did feel. Swallowing a little, she finally found her voice, soft as it was. "My name is Mary Boleyn, Lord Cardross....Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner..." Once more she fell silent and let her fascination lie with the teacup on the table before her. *

Edmund listened attentively. He did not have much trouble listening, nor even in following the unraveling of the philosophy. He did not approve of the man's indelicacy toward the women, on the principle of the thing, though to be fair, some ladies were set to giggling by that sort of uncouth speech. Not Mary, though. He frowned absently, particularly at that last bit - harsh, harsh desire, and might well have been moved toward some kind of a rebuke had not Adolph asked after his father, and moreover, described him as kind....It was that word that did it, unfortunately. He started to cough or laugh - midmouthful of wine, inhaled some, spat some back into the glass, and spent the next several seconds coughing vigorously into his fist.

Adolph's explanation had her looking at him now, as the cup lowered. Questions well parried" She instilled fear in others? Smile did falter as he disclosed his story in such a way, the mannerism of his words. For some reason they were like the surface of flint held close to dry kindling; that being that Irish temper. This would show within those chestnut pools that turned upon Adolph, and where usually that bladed tongue would be used, for the moment to be kept mute. Instead, her hand would move to find that of Mary's, to offer a reassuring squeeze when she seen the woman withdraw back into that shell, the very one she had hoped she drew her out of. A lean as she spoke quietly to the woman at her side. "Not all will view your works in such a manner, Mary. I assure you." Once spoken, she'd slowly stand from her chosen seat. "I hope you will all excuse me." She needed a moment to curtail the want to lash out at the man to make Mary feel better, but thought better of it. "I'm in need of a bit of fresh air." Before anyone could halt her motion, or question her further. Ermine cloak would be snagged and she'd head for the door, to step out onto the porch and do just as she claimed, deeply inhaled the frigid air. Though a few stomps of her foot to help rid of that she left unsaid.

-The Carriage Ride -

Truth-:Once in the carriage silence would extend for some time. He had taken seat across from her, as next to her would give the wrong impression to passer bys. As of yet making this appear anything but an affair suited him. He took his position of sprawl, spread legs and arms. It was a comfort for him...the lion resting before the meal. It was only after he was satisfied that the Lord Cardross hadn't done something silly like follow that his voice began.:...That was cute, but I am not sure I am the type of person you want to play with my Lady. Don't get me wrong I enjoy the game now and then, but tonight is far too delicate a thing to upset. We would not want to part upset now would we"...:He was fully aware that he was not going to make her any happier with that statement.:...I am a spy for people that are loyal to the King for the most part. My information probably reaches you in some points, among others. The truth of it can be given to the audience...:Meaning he chooses what information is given where, and the weight of it.:...I have a few other talents, most you don't know...on you heard the other night...:He was making her aware what ground she stood on. It wasn't a threat, no if he wanted to threaten her she knew how that would happen.:...Mostly. My question is very simple, what are you, why are you? If it is not evident my Lady I have every intention with being civil with you, however I would be very upset if after my truthful nature you chose to lie to me...

She listened, in silence, and it would linger long after he finished speaking. Dark eyes pegged him within the dim confinements of the compartment they now shared. It was then she couldn't help it, slowly a grin began to tick into place. Game" She had yet to play him in any manner, but she'd keep in mind to teach him a valuable lesson in that part within the near future. Soon enough, her voice would break the silence. "You know quite well what I am, MiLord. Barrister to the King, and they why' Because of my skills and abundance of charm. Surely you've heard the rumors." He had stated he was a spy, and if as good as he claimed, then such a question should not have been posed. Though she would add, just so he understood her position. "My loyalties lie to the King first, other's fall into place thereafter." It was then she'd lean forward slightly. "What did you think your confession would gain you? My life story' I'm sure you could learn that easily enough, and it has no bearing on the present, except in my determination to succeed in all I do. Without outside assistance, on my own merits."

Sadness-:A sigh left him, it was a tired thing. His left hand rose to rub at his temple, as if to further explain the act.:..Lady, tonight I had to pretend to desire the skirts of a mouse of a woman, I had to put up with a fool who is no fool. The drunk son of an arse of a general who had me digging more ditches then your country men dug graves because of the King, you are so loyal to. You force my hand in so many ways, you are truly upsetting me. What do you think will happen if I am to tell...persons that you have a ship off the coast, and interestingly enough you appear to be showing flashes of a fierce loyal nature to your home land. In addition, it appears, you are a pagan who is sleeping with the son of the former General Cardross, and have befriended and fooled the Lady Mary Boleyn with intentions of harming the Princess Mary, sister to King Henry. While these things enough merit my fear for his Majesty it appears that through your affair with Lord Cardross you have gained a following amongst the lesser officers, why just today two men who wish to remain nameless whispered to me the thoughts of an Celtic rebellion lead by a queen of red hair to match the one killed by the Romans...Sadly those two nameless men would be found dead, near an Irish part of town, letters baring your name in their pockets...:His voice rose, a deeper thing it was another mask.:....Either you are an asset, and we are a good pairing of business. Or you are just another tool in the box that I will break when I see fit Lady...Shall you try again?

Talk about a slap in the face, his words almost held a physical form with their impact. Just how long had he been watching her" Just how much about her did he already know; and spoke yet not about it. And why had she gained such attention' Then the false accusation. "You know d**n well that's all fabrication!" Though she'd not say exactly what, for she knew in her heart he already knew without having to point it out. A deep breath taken, she'd not let her ire get the best of her now. The man across from her was dangerous, as he could very well bring about not only her demise, but that of her parents with such accusations placed forth; not to mention the aide she offered other's that would end. "As I said, I'm the Barrister to the King, I assist my father with the running of his plantation. Common enough knowledge. As for the ship, it's mine!" Not a whole truth, but not a lie either. How was that for a slap in the face. "Just like young bucks like to sow their oats, I did much the same. Only my travels were by sea." It wasn't like she could openly learn what she had here in these lands, being a woman, and that would be the excuse she'd use for her reasoning's for being out to sea. The truth as to her life out to sea would never be spoken to any in these lands, at least not anytime soon. "And if you feel the need to destroy me, I can't stop you! Though I will not go down easily!" That defiance of her's was a strong willed nature. "But, I shall inform you now, to destroy my reputation now, would only hurt the King and his cause." Chin lifted as she continued to stare him down. "My works are in his best interest, and knowledge of what I seek information on could indeed have me titled a Pagan, tried as a heretic and so executed by the Church itself."

Setup-:It disappeared, all that apparent anger and threat it melted away to the cool exterior that he had showed her three times now. It made known, it was just another show. More so by his words.:...Good, we understand each other...:Obviously any information he wanted, he could get. It would take him time, and it might not all be correct. But it would be useful to most points.:...You won't cross me, or expose me because of what I can do to you. That is basic animal instincts. But shortly, you will understand human thoughts and you will grow to like me very much. For Lady I have ever intention of helping you do whatever it is you want to, to the utmost of my abilities...:A smile crept upon his lips, giving him a boyish charm completely destroyed by the fact that he was an evil bastard when he wanted to be.:...I am going to give, some juicy information to help you along your way...some information you have, but up until this point. Have over looked...:He sat up slightly, his fingers lifting to brush over his lips in place of a wetting drink. It was a completely deviant action, but his words would work none the less.:...You are looking at things far too innocently, legally. What need to do...is look at things humanely. Humans are animals, and as you just say animals can be manipulated. There are hundreds of ways to do, but the easiest is fear. :Had the whole night, merely been a lesson in this" If one believed him a completely insane genius, they would have to say yes.: You need to push...to bend the laws, give yourself a way to move side to side. My dear there is nothing more that the English populace, as well as Lords and Ladies fear that a large Spanish fleet, destroying all that they know. If I was, in a position of battle with the Catholic church in Rome I would begin at the head of the snake. If I wanted to be able to move side ways, I would let slip...via some underground writer, loyal to the King and saying what he cannot...:This point was thrown in there.:...That the Pope, is related to King Philip of Spain, who is planning to conquer England. That divorce has been granted in the past for a male heir, and the only reason that King Henry is blocked is because of a plot by the Vatican, and Spain to weaken the English government. More evidence you say' There are currently more openings for bishops in England than any other Catholic country, this undermines our economy. For the money does not stay in England and go to the diocese...it goes to Rome....

Much like the forced, prearranged marriages that plagued the land, she would find herself in a like predicament with this man. Not so easily put off as suitors by utilization of her father's position to have them cease any future callings upon her; which this was far from the case of such actions, but the thought was still there. A forced partnership she was far than thrill to be involved in; and she would seek a way out. Her defiance remained, that was until he started to elaborate on the information given forth. In many ways, her research had taught her that the Pope held supreme power. His words and rules extended past any Crown head. Forward she'd lean, arms resting atop her lap as hands clasped together in suspension over the edge of knees. Some things were beginning to click in her head. All information once thought useless were suddenly becoming refreshed as it was put into perspective. It was then something else came to mind, the confrontation of earlier. A glance to the side before attention was back upon him. "There's a man here, an Ambassador to the King is his claim, from the Empire of Charles V." Something now toiled in her mind. "That is someone I think you might look into." The man had used his title as a shield from the land's laws so he could be excused for his violent actions that were witnessed earlier; unprovoked in her mind. "His name is Lord Otto." She couldn't recall the last name, so enraged she was at the man when he babbled his words of grandeur. In a sense, one could call this a vendetta for the earlier circumstance "As for the other, I think the information you provided helps with something I've been pondering over." It could very well work, not sure the hows or the why's of it.

Connect the dots-:Perfect, his smile widened slightly. Now she would begin to further realize that this was no little game, he would be her silent muse. It would be her given the credit, but it would be from his lips.:...I will do so...But Lady, Charles is not just Empire of the holy roman world. He is King of Aragon, Catalonia, Valencia, Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia...:He paused, letting this sink in. O she knew all of this, her little legal mind had processed this long ago. But he was saying it in a different manner, he was spinning the tale in the way he wanted it pictured. All that was left was to throw that little, neglected, piece of information in there.:...You know what they call his mother" Joanna the Mad...of Castile. He took the crown, when he took the duty of caring for his loving mother. With that crown came all...Spanish...possessions in the new world. It is a mere formality that he does not hold it in legal binding, he has to wait for his mother to die to do that...and oddly enough the man actually cares for her. It is even rumored that there is a wedding approaching between him and his cousin, Isabella of Portugal. I suspect it to come in the spring of next year, with her comes yet more Spanish ties...in fact, any children they had would be in direct line for the throne of Spain, and further more would they connection back to the Holy Roman Empire, why if you were a person who saw all the ills in the world...you could almost draw a conclusion that Spain and Rome are slowly rebuilding a Roman empire that in days gone by, conquered these lands...

Information she did possess, one didn't work within the intriquet wheels of a Royal home, without an understanding of it's politics and that of lands that surrounded them. It's just she never placed such things in perspective, being tunnel visioned in her studies. The laws are what she buried herself within, seeking loop holes or wording that would offer favor to the King and his actions sought. Could he see the wheels churning in her head" The smoke of thought emitting from her ears. Although her gaze was directed upon him, a million miles away it became. The lurch of the carriage drew her focus back to the moment and upon the man seated across from her. "Blood will spill again before this is over, there's no avoiding that." War would be an outcome, no matter the path chosen, if King Henry was intent upon continuing his course of action. With Otto's presence, she now questioned the safety of Ann, Mary's sister, the Queens hand maiden, and the very woman who held the King's interest. No, Adolph knew not exactly who Mary was, in full, or did he" Perhaps if he reconsidered and thought of Mary's last name, two and two would be put together; if his knowledge was not yet something held of the torrid affair which had the tongues of not only this court, but other's wagging. "Cut the head off the snake, the body dies." Clear knowledge she held in that. For a long moment she'd gaze upon him. "I have some things to look into, to see if it's ever been done before, and if not, King Henry may start a new precedence that will affect other lands should they follow suit." The door to the carriage would be opened the footman, who stood in preparation for her to depart the carriage.

Seeds planted-:His smile widened at her words, the seeds were planted. Step one was easy after all, it was what would follow that would be difficult. The door was opened and just as easily he slipped out it without a word. He was confident she would do what was needed. Besides as a fox, quick exits were his thing. She would find him gone, any shadow of him likewise. But to think this the only encounter, well, that would be foolish.:

Confident the man may be, but in truth she was already following that path of assisting the King. Funny how so many would mistakenly think she was unable to plan, connive, or work on matters when it came to law and politics. Now one thing he had done, was offer her more information to work with. Where he thought he had her, she in turn had him. A great source of information tapped into. The user, himself, was being used.

Thankful for the heavy cloud cover, it maintained a reasonable warmth to the wintry air that encompassed the area. Though that which whipped about the docks area was only matched by areas of high elevation. Once again she had managed to sneak out of her house in the middle of the night, her parents and guest all sound asleep. Instead of the usual finery of gowns, tonight she had changed her incognito dress code. The heavy adornment of that midnight colored cloak was the same, although wool breeches were tucked neatly into the neck of knee high leather boots. Thick woolen sweater adorned over the heavy threaded cotton of tunic. Ebon mane flowed freely, beneath the cover of that up drawn hood. Fur lined leather gloves protected slender digits from any chance of frost bite. It would be to the market area in which she'd head, the activities of such places ran through the night and into the early mornings. A great place in which to get lost in, disappear for a short time so to speak, and not gain a second look from any passing. Due to size, more like a street urchin she'd represent, even if the cut of the cloth which adorned her small stature would be evidence that was far from the case. It would be to the vendor who sold books that she'd now seek, for several reason.

It had been a few years since Geddoe had been anywhere near the area that he now traveled. He looked a lot different from the last time he had been seen, so he didn't think it a priority to disguise himself. Simple cotton shirt wrapped his torso; darker wool pants covered his lower frame. Boots of black leather thudded against the wood as he walked. A pack was thrown over one shoulder, which held everything, he had in his life. Geddoe carried no weapons now that one could see, as most were hidden against his shoulders, or inside of his boots. Dark pools of brown found themselves drifting from left to right as he moved towards...well, nowhere in particular. But by chance, the urge to stop by a particular book seller took a hold of him and he slowed his steps, bringing himself next to the woman. He paid her no attention for the moment, free hand sliding slowly over various book covers.

Stock still she stood as eyes began to wander over the volumes on display. The engraved titles upon the worn leather bindings read with a slight tilt of her head. Only a glance was spared towards her side when another approached to view the vendors wares. Then back to her search she continued, only moving when she was unable to read the faint writing upon the covers. Soon enough she'd begin to pluck books from their shelving, leafing through the pages; only to return them to whence they came and move on. Soon she found one that captivated her attention. Upon the cover one could easily discern the word Spain. This was being more closely viewed, the pages slowly thumbed through. One hand lifted to draw back the cowl of her hood a bit more, to keep it's shadow from dancing upon the pages being read. Even inching more closely towards the lantern provided to gain better light.

Geddoe glanced towards the woman for a moment himself, before letting his gaze drop back towards the books. Soon digits stopped over a book that said it contained various childish pirate stories. He grinned to himself slightly, letting his fingers slip around the book and picking it up. It seemed the woman had the right idea to move towards a light source, for the slim light that was getting to him was just enough to notice was the cover said, but it would take more to actually read the printed words inside. So he stepped towards the lantern himself, letting the book fall open to a random page. He'd begin reading for a moment, before letting his eyes shift towards the woman near him. Geddoe did a double take then...Was it' No, it couldn't be, could it' He was fairly certain it was, but he had to be sure. "A rather odd hour for a woman ta be readin' books, no?" He'd set his book down then, and offer his hand towards her. "I'd be Geddoe..." Inside he was laughing, knowing it had to be her.

Odd hour for a woman to be reading a book" Was that what she had heard" Slowly the book was lowered, as head rose and eyes shifted in the direction of the voice. If daggers could be shot from one's eyes, the look that rested upon the man at that moment would have made him look like Swiss Cheese after. Just as she was about to retort with a smart assed comment, the words fell mute upon her lips. It took the combination of face and name for the familiarity to come about. He had indeed changed, a lot, and a slow blink as now features took on that look as if she had just seen a ghost. "Geddoe!"!" The shock would be heard in tone. "You're alive!" Quite the exclamation, being the man stood before her. Now please don't feel insulted she didn't take that hand, for she was simply standing there gawking. It was then a sensation of dread over came her and a quick glance around before looking back to him. "Pick up a book and read it whilst we speak." She would have embraced him had it been another time or place. For now, she had a lot to protect, much that was at stake. Moving to where her book was in the light, but shadows were cast upon herself, even drawing that hood forward slightly to hide features from passing view. Surely Geddoe wouldn't find this odd, not after who they both served under. He'd learn soon enough as to why the cloak and dagger appearance was being so strictly maintained.

Geddoe let a grin slide upon his features as the shock overtook her. He had even been about to respond to her before she requested him to pick up a book. The grin faded and he nodded slightly, reaching for the pirate book again. Once more it was opened to a random page and he began 'reading'. Eyes would shift slightly in each direction for a moment before settling on the text. The action was repeated several times. The pack on his back was even set down and he took the book in both hands, looking as if he was getting more into it. Geddoe would wait for her to speak up, seeing as she knew more about what was going on. Though, to Geddoe...it was business as usual with his old friend.

Fox or Hound-: He never did enjoy this part of his job, it was boring and to be quite honest a pain in he arse. He had other things he would rather be doing at this time, but recent information and the chance to stir the pot was all but impossible for him to resist. Of course he would not admit that the barrister was harder to follow than anticipated, in fact it had required him to backtrack twice and circle before he found her, after her little disappearance acts. He damned his luck in that a man had appeared, and from the reaction someone she knew...he would make that split second of surprise, the way her little shoulders moved and her hand rising to her hood pay....not in a painful way of course. Bloody cold, but it would be worth it. His luck however was turning, as across from the very bookstand she now browsed was a small indoor shop of varying plate ware. The fact that it sold plate ware mattered little, what mattered was the beggar child outside of it and the large picture window, a rarity for so humble a shop. It was by the scruff of the boy's neck and a shiny piece that he led the boy inside. Luck was the intersection of opportunity and preparedness, prepared he was. A small piece of parchment and a coal pencil would do nicely. He wrote what he needed on it, then gave the instructions to the boy. Of course the boy couldn't read, but the words weren't for his benefit. He made him repeat what he was to say four times, before sending him out the door and to the bookstore. He, the fox, took his time in finding the correct position in the window. Going so far as to pick the lint off of his wool jacket, and folding arms behind back. The boy, smelling of stale urine, and surprisingly worse, would appear at the Ladies' side. Clutching a piece of paper, he looked down to it...an act, for his acting was terrible. His voice cracked with puberty, managing:...My master seeks, first edition...To..To-to...Superseed..:The ee was stressed far to much, but the word was clearly supersede: a..:An was a complicated task:...Am-big-u-us...Ambiguous. : Barrister of Spain...:To which the book vendor merely cracked an eyebrow, for the boy did not remain long enough to see if it had it. Instead the paper was thrown down on the table, upon it in sprawling letters read: Behind you of course: Edward Cunningham's wife is dead, why"...:The duke was believed to have killed his wife, or so it was whispered. If she did indeed turn, she would find her fox in the window...come and gone again. Disappeared, and in his wake an urchin boy with shiny things.:

Geddoe let his eyes move to the boy for a split second before returning to his book. He'd let the little thing speak, and when he was done and gone, Geddoe sighed slightly. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew it wasn't anything very good. The words he spoke next, looked as if he was reading from the book. "I need ta go...I'll find ya tomorra night." With that, the book he had, was now placed back where he found it and his pack was lifted onto his shoulder once more. Geddoe turned and started in the direction he had come without sparing a looking to the woman.

A slow blink as attention turned to the boy, why did his words chill her such' She'd not glance in Geddoe's direction when he spoke, knowing she didn't need to. When the boy dashed off, it would be the small parchment that gained her attention next. Slowly the book was closed and the piece of paper lifted to read again. The hackles on the back of her neck, and the chill along her spine, had not a thing to do with the chill of the evening. Slowly her head lifted as she'd turn to look behind her. Chestnut pools slowly scanning the area to see if she found the source of not only the note, but the words uttered by the boy. She had a sneaky suspicion whom that it might be, now she was looking to see if the man hid like a thief, or would make his presence known to her physically, having gone to such a degree. She knew damn well she was able to sneak away from the Plantation undetected, and her state of dress in breeches and heavy sweater beneath that cloak made it not obvious of whom she was. Merchants may be able to make out the finer cut of cloth that was worn, but not those who usually milled about the docks or market area. So she was followed, or tracked, and this set well not within her. The book she had been viewing would be returned to the stand, as she'd slowly being to walk in the direction of the young boy.

Plates-:He was more use to the wooden type, and the wooden spoon which seemed to serve everything all right. These glass contraptions were a bore, and more so the price labeled upon them. He had lingered at the window long enough only to see the child complete his task and return for his reward. He now browsed the shop, to the eager anticipation of the owner. In truth it was nothing but a passing of time while he awaited his barrister. The chance to scare her...to remind her of those she dealt with was far too good to pass up, or to wait and see the reaction of it. She was smart enough to see the boy enter and leave the shop, smart enough to see him hording his catch outside it. His chosen point of begging. Here he did not have to pretend to be a humane Captain of the military, the Fox had flashed his teeth with a simple procedure. It is not hard considering they had first met at the Docks, and she in disguise. Pick your poison, he either recognized the height and build of her from the plantation. Or better yet, had been waiting near the Docks with similar thoughts in mind. How many men of that high and build appeared from the plantation and went to the Docks, how many women that needed to hide their face" If you are in a crowd, and you are the only one who has their face a black hole. It is not hard to see. Perhaps he would point these out to her, to really scare her...or, the shoes...Nae, he thought as he looked over a piece of some finery or such. The note would do enough.:

She'd not directly enter the shop, oh no, she had something other in mind. It would be to the large window to which she'd step up to and peer inside. Her suspicion was now founded, when she espied the Captain within the establishment. Anger, such anger did she bear at the moment, in knowing he was following her. A glance then spared towards the boy, and slowly a grin formed upon lips. Reaching into a pant pocket, she'd withdraw three silver coins as she made her way over to the boy. Leaning over she'd speak to him, handing over the coins as she did. Words whispered near the young lad's ear, and his head nodding when asked if he understood. Standing, a look of satisfaction upon her face, she watched as the boy entered the shop before she'd turn and walk away. Purposely blending with the crowd in order to place herself for better viewing of what may happen after. The boy would enter the shop and walk up to the Captain, softly clearing his throat to gain the man's attention. Once he was sure it was gotten, only then did he recite the next words. "Da laidee said ....." A pause to make sure he got it right, for there was promise of more coins to be given once he finished his task. "....dun be o'bonnie lass. Got sumpfin t'say, get ye sum balls and stop hidin'." The boy would then flash him a rotten toothed smile and blow him a kiss before he'd turn and run out of the shop. He ran to the nearest tree and there beneath the snow he'd find his reward. Tonight was a night of wealth for the boy, he'd choose this spot more often. Where she had positioned herself, was in a place to where she could watch his reaction.

Bonnie Lass-:He could not hide it, that laugh. He almost choked on it as it frothed free of his barreled chest in husky tone. Well...so much for this being an even engagement, or god forbid, something in which he held the upper hand. The barrister was turning out to be a different class, he needn't seduce her and she tried not with him. It was, by all means, a clash of brain and wit. He preferred it of late, for even his lusty appetites were beginning to wane with the debauchery that was English court. Still, he did not immediately leave the confines of the shop. He was much enjoying the heat of the fire in it's hearth even with his wool jacket, the English winter was a cold wet thing that made him miss the Muslim states. Besides, let her debate upon his reaction. In the end a matched sent of small, pewter lidded bowls were selected. Their round shape would be a humored incantation of her suggestion towards the state of his loins. They were a bit pricier than he had wanted, but he had not the time to stand and barter with the thin feminine man behind the counter. Wrapped in cheap fabrics to keep from bouncing against one another and chipping, they were once again wrapped in satchel like configuration to fit easily within his hand. How does one find someone that wishes to be hidden, and yet readily available for such an invite" Why you use your head of course, she fancied herself a spy at heart with all her costumes and sneaking about. But she didn't make her living by it alone, where as he...there was not a day of his life in which such was the matter of life and death. His was a bee's line towards the more dense of the crowd, which then split up into small sweeping glances of his eyes. Before another vendor, no doubt smug with herself, she was spotted. Before her, on the somewhat put off vendor's counter, the package would be set with much fan fair.:...Your Bullocks Lady...

She seen him laugh, and could have sworn she heard it as it echoed past the closed doors and windows to float over the crowd. Which it didn't, a great imagination she did harbor within that ever toiling mind. She couldn't help but grin as she watched. Head tilted slightly as she continued to observe. She knew he'd find her, even if she did make him have to search. He proved that point tonight quite clearly, this man was definitely one to remain on guard with. She was still unsure if he was truly a friend or foe of the cause. Watching as moments later he exited the store and began to look about the crowd. Of course she wouldn't make it easy on him, always stepping behind a group of individuals a few times before his nearness made that feat impossible. It was then she simply stood there with that bit of a grin upon lips. Brow lifted when he set the package down, eyes to follow the parcel. It would be his words that had her blinking and look up at him, then she just couldn't help it. Now it was her time to laugh, and heartily she did. No hand to cover mouth in that demure nature as when in upper class establishments, nor did she hold back on the release of her mirth. Hand lifted to wipe away the tear created by the laughter just spent, then lowered to rub those cheeks which had began to ache from the action. Amusement glimmered brightly within those chestnut hues that now fixed upon him. "Impressive, and so quickly grown. So much for my new monikered for you..." Oh, she would add to it before any point was to be gained. "....Adelphia.." Playful nature of that smirk which appeared, humor noted in tone. Reference to the Bonnie Lass would now come to an end at this point. Until she finds just how much of a funny bone the man may possess. Then the chase would come to an abrupt halt. "Now mind telling me why you haunt my shadow this night?" Turning to face him as the parcel was taken in hand, a bit surprised at their weight, a glance down for a moment. "Brass balls at that, eh?" Okay, so she lied, she couldn't help it. Gaze would rise to settle upon him once more. "....Oh, and the truth too. If you expect me to put trust in you, then you better start by proving to me the same is placed. Or else, we may have a bit of a problem." Said in such a sweet tone, it would be hard to discern that she was now offering a bit of a threat upon him. One thing you could always count on the courts for, was the vicious gossip. Especially if it involved a member of the High Nobles. Chattering on all levels, from the servants to the courtiers.

Advisor-:His smile was, surprisingly, genuine at both her laugh and her humor. Though it faded to the stoic mask as she continued on, such a silly girl she could sometimes be. It was that pride in her, the pride where she could never admit to weakness nor attempt to appear weak. He supposed it was a survival mechanism, to get where she was she had to have a certain ruthless nature about her...or at least appear to have. She, however, was threatening the Fox in it's den and she lacked the necessary bite. He would let it sleep, it suited him to allow the image of him to her be a ill practiced thing from time to time. Moments of brilliance, or viciousness were tools he burned her with in some instances but her pride had been damaged enough with his shadowing of her, for now. :...A pity, to hear you discuss the metallurgic make up of my loins was becoming a quite entertaining conversation and then you had to go and threaten me, I fear our relationship shall be slow to recover...:Thinking, though the pause was more a thing so that he appeared to be studying what lay before him and not actually holding an interest in her words, or those he was conveying.:...Three subjects come to mind with which we must immediately discuss, such discussions however are ill suited for this location...You are not an ignorant woman, and you have surprising skills. :He lavished compliments on her, for they were truth. What he was about to show her either way, would still leave her unhappy. He turned from the stall, and lifted hand as if to point out the distant, towering structures of the finer part of town. A pity his words didn't achoe it.:...Urchin near the seamstress on southern side has perfect teeth, and his a little too dirty. Prostitute on the wharf itself is turning no tricks, and has not been propositioned. The very same man has passed through this street five times, with the very same package...:As if on cue, a fairly well dressed fellow carrying a brown satchel beneath his woolen arm passed on the other side of the street. His head turned this way, and that.:...Amateurs for the most part, and the only few I could pick out in our short time here. You have to remember every Wednesday the scraps are given out behind the castle and it is rather easy for those who appear lowly to pass out what they have, so everyone is suspect. I assume our small boy will be getting even wealthier for repeating what was said, though nothing was. There are far to many interests in this city, from far to many people local and domestic to come down to a bookstore in the middle of the day in disguise, no matter your confidence. Hiding in plain sight seems more functional...:In short he was telling her to knock off her attempted cloak and dagger, it would confuse them more to have the Lady Carlotta slumming it, then the Lady Carlotta dressed up. :..In our case however, I shall escort you to my loft, and you may access the state of me, from balls up...:His arm extended and pointing, fell instead to offer her a secure grasp. He cared little for secrecy as to what he was, in fact he preferred some whispers of secret meetings be spewed out as long as the contents were in fact, secret. What he had to discuss with her would only be suited for a place he could guarantee no listening ears.:

Brow rose slightly, not once did that amusement dull within her soft brown gaze, nor did that bit of a grin as he went into his spill. Slow shake of her head. "Which would be all fine and well by the light of day, Sir Adolph. You know, as well as I, that by night a different creature walks within the darkness. One may be well dressed, their teeth intact, and not smell of sewers and fish, but they draw not the attention as one who prances like a Dandy or Peacock." The way this was being explained, it almost sounded as if words of experience were being uttered. "Even a woman alone, is over looked when the weight of a purse might grace one's hand." One thing you could always count on about money in the darker classes, it ruled most of their worlds. It was more often the prey the predator sought, and after such, only then would physical release be sought. It was as if the act of stealing or killing, aroused the individual as much as a stroking hand. "Easily I may be spotted by a trained eye, but to other's, I'm most generally overlooked and ignored." An admittance this was something done common place. For what purpose would never be offered openly, nor anytime soon. Brow rose with his statement and invite to his loft. "I've already got your balls held firmly, Sir Adolph." Grin to grow a bit more as her hand rose to offer viewing of the parcel she held that tight grip upon. Hand lowered still grasping the pewter items, free to link with the offered arm. Turning to stand at his side, awaiting his lead of direction. She wasn't naive in many ways, and knew any discussion to be initiated would never transpire in the open market. She knew of those ears that lurked about, in fact, there were a few she knew personally. A good Barrister utilized all things to their avail, and if one had the wealth to ensure loyalties remained, it put them ahead of the rest. Some were even more than paid informants, friends on another level from another life. Hood would be drawn forward to cast shadows upon features once more. Even if any would offer whispers of this meeting, she would ensure the name of the woman would be left unknown, a mystery woman that none could point out. Street Urchin look was ruined by the way she took his arm and was lead through the streets to their destination.

The coming of night brought with it the increased winds that drifted inland from the sea. Tonight, however, the usual frigid nature clung not to the gusts that passed, though was far from the splendor of spring, as the chill remained yet. As many headed home, the market would increase with it's activity. Last minute purchases before calling it a night, or making way the brawly taverns that littered the area. Many to seek drink, and others that night of debauchery to sait their loins. It was also a time when the darker minions of humanity would take to the streets; thieves, murders, kidnappers ....many simply called them pirates for short. Vendors were shouting out to the passing crowds, staking claims their items were top quality for little coin. One thing can be said about a port market area, here almost anything could be gained; for the right price. This would be one of the areas she'd always visit before heading to the King's Ale House, or home. Looking over the wears offered from afar, although brief would be her attention on bobbles and cloth. Books, always the books that drew her attention forth, as it had again at this moment. Though, not just a typical novel or the like, all information she sought had to do with the Church, laws, and information about certain lands that had gained her attention as of late. The book presently in hand, was one written about the Emperor Called Charles, or more so his family history in which he's been mentioned; making the book written after his birth. Slowly she thumbed through the pages, judging whether the leather bound volume would be an asset to her present study and cause.

Not entirely sure why, though Rhiannon had ventured forth from the warmth of castle walls to stretch her legs. Like a bird from a gilded cage she wrapped herself in the warmest feathers she could find, that of course being her winter cloak, and decided the markets were calling her name. The air was much more brisk outside than it had been in the past few days. Clouds overhead blotted the stars from view and threatened of more snow. Though most had melted there seemed to be a crunch to the ground as feet settled upon the land. She'd been asked if she required a carriage and had resolutely turned the idea away as she seemed to need the walk. Bringing her hood up against the slight breeze she headed toward the dockside markets. Once approaching she could see a bustle of activity and with a resigned sigh she plunged her way into the crowd. Stopping at this or that cart, taking in the make of a few bolts of cloth she began her scavenger hunt as she thought to call it. Nothing she really needed but much she found appealing, she too found the book cart and took notice of the woman that perused the piles. Glancing her way she offered a warm smile. "My Lady...." A greeting of respect as she found a volume less appealing than the one the other held and began looking through the pages. (d)

The greeting from the woman who now stood at her side would have focus upon the pages of script redirect upon her. The polite and kind nature of her smile would greet the woman first. "Evening to you as well." Spoken loud enough for the woman to hear her over the shouts of not only the vendors, but the crowd. Glance over at the book the woman had chosen "You don't look the type that would be tied to a kitchen, if I may be so bold." Taking note of the volume of recopies from various chefs. Although, she knew a particular Frenchman who might have interest in that, but she wasn't even sure if the man could read. The volume in hand would be closed and tucked beneath her arm, as she found the contents to quite helpful to what she was needing. While awaiting the woman's response, she'd take to glancing over the other titles that rested before them and was quick to snag one that had large silver cross of Celtic design upon its cover. How she found that nearly a laughable thing, for the Church persecuted the Celts as being pagans and heretics, yet they utilize their art to incorporate with that of their religious icons. This would now be opened to glance through the pages, it would seem it spoke of the Holy Order, its rankings and positions of power. Now this was something that definitely captivated her attention.

The words of the Lady at her side brought laughter and she nodded momentarily. "No, you are right I'm not one for the kitchens but it's a gift for my cook. Christmas sadly passed me by what with my own studies and I failed to get things for a few people that mean most to me. I am sorry I should have introduced myself at least, sometimes my manners fail me." Turning toward her she curtseyed just as the woman chose the book with the cross embossed upon it and spoke her name. "Rhiannon Kendrick, Duchess of Suffolk...it's a pleasure my Lady." It was interesting and very comforting to find another that seemed to enjoy the fine works of literature. Not many women took it upon themselves to hold such interest. Standing fully again she glanced to the book and nodded slightly. "You have an interest in religion?" Both hands now gripped the recipe book as she'd decided to purchase it for her cook, it had a large variety of dishes created from afar and would likely come in handy at gatherings, plush she was sure the elder woman would be delighted. Rhiannon treated the people that attended her kindly, it was likely why she had no high turnover in servants. (d)

"HALT, HAAAllllTTT!"-The words were exclaimed as a young lad ran through the crowd with a most agile grace and dexterity. Weaving and darting amongst the people twice his size, even once or twice he'd notably dive between someone's parted legs. A short distance behind the darting lad was a man who looked to be of Spaniard descent. His long mane of sable black locks bounced in their looseness upon the cloak at his back. The hood capturing most of the thick tail as it as well bounced to the rhythm of his demanding boots below that clapped upon the England streets ground almost as quickly as that of a steed with his enraged sense of visage and voice that was loosed, bellowing over the heads of those who were in the markets that day. A gloved fist was in the air to declare who it was that was making all the demanding commotion. The black fist contrasting against the cleansed white sleeve that puffed out at his wrist, and bellowed out from a bracer at forearm where velvet streaks traced the length of his arm in a few lines to become entombed in the vestion that clung wroughtly to the broadness of his built physique. At his side people he passed by would become weary of the duo blades that were bound together at the sheath and attached upon his belt. One a rapier, the other a Spaniard long sword. There was of course an obliging dagger on the other side of his belt. Unfortunately there was something missing on that wide length of leather. A money pouch.-d-

With the woman's introduction, the book was slowly closed and added to the heft of the first. Turning now to face the woman, her smile grew somewhat more in finding another scholar of gender. She too would offer a bit of a curtsy to the fellow noble. "A pleasure indeed Duchess. I am Carlotta Basinstoke, Barrister to the King." This was a title she offered proudly, for a woman to claim such was a rarity as it was. Not that the position came by easy, as so many wagging tongues liked to proclaim, she worked harder than all others to prove her worth. Standing with a smile. "What sort of studies are you involved in?" Glancing to the book, then a sheepish smile to the woman. "Yes, I'm in process of learning the differences in the nature of the Church verses State. The laws, hierarchy of positions, and how they meld together." Simple and truthful enough answer, without exposing her true cause. It would be the uproar not far that gained her attention next, to see a man chasing a lad through the streets. She had to softly chuckle, seeing the young whelp outrun and maneuver the man. Inwardly, and secretly, she was cheering the boy on to make his escape. Glance back to the Rhiannon. "Never a dull moment in the market place." Said with a chuckle just as she felt herself get bumped, then the cool rush of air that entered beneath skirts. Eyes widen, even more she felt those cold hands upon her calves. It would seem the boy was using her skirt and cloak as a place to hide. So very still she remained and a soft cough as she attempted to recover. Thank goodness she wore leggings beneath those layers of skirts tonight, or this could be quite embarrassing indeed.

"Oh...nothing near as important as you are I'm sure, just social status and the affects of such. I guess you could say I study people?" She laughed lightly and dropped her arms so that the book was loosely clasped in front of her and caught the title quite easily already she was thinking that she just might need her someday. The truth was Edward Cunningham the Duke of York was being ousted and looked upon for the possible murder of his own wife and Rhiannon believed completely in his innocence, her own studies revolved around finding clues that could possibly exonerate him should it ever come to trial. "Well I must say it is indeed a pleasure to meet you Lady Basinstoke....I..." She use ships for that purpose." There was a smile on her face that she could not help because the situation was becoming quite humorous. However she did look toward the place the man had been running and wondered if he'd taken notice of where his thief had gone. (d)

-It was rather difficult to keep a direct eye on the lil thief. The crowds movement though, made it easier to trace such movement as they would, like a wave, ripple away from the rushing child. Some individuals even made gestures here and there, the vendors in particular. The vendors themselves loaaathhed the thieves since they were one of the main targets of thievery themselves. It was thus that Corothius' tracking would pause as two well dressed ladies were standing before a vendor of books. Eyes would narrow as his breath would begin to ease back into his lungs from the air that it had so been exhumed into behind him. Those suede gloved fists returning to his hips in fists as a thumb would trace the steel embedded with gold enscribering hilts of the rapier at his side. A lip was tugged in as these two beautiful women were given a look-see over. There of course, was nothing else to do at the moment, and those rather appealing emotions that women drew from deep within him..and well, rather lower on his physique, persuaded him to join them at the bookstand. If nothing more than to gain the knowledge of their aromas. Some women held rather mesmerizing scents, especially when they grew rather...hot. When he'd speak, his tongue would roll about with the words, playing the syllables about with that Spaniard tongue. His eyes of course, feasting greedily upon whatever cleavage this day and age's dress' would allow him to prey upon.-"Ahem..good evening ladies, how fares your shopping this eve?"-d-

When the books were being pulled from her hands, a blink as she glanced over to Rhiannon, then back to the Spanish Lord. He would find one book was on the history of the family of the Emperor Charles V, and the other writings on the hierarchy of the Church. A deep breath taken as she tried to remain still where she stood, and due to this, when he came closer to examine those books, very close were they indeed. She had to do something to keep his attention above the waist, and she knew exactly what to do. "I swear, I do believe it's getting warmer out tonight." Hand lifted to fan her face slowly, other hand moved to open that cloak enough to give the man a good view of what he wanted to see. Guarantee he would never be able to recite what color her eyes were when she was done. A deep breath taken, as if a sigh of relief. "Much better." Such a pretty smile to form now, perfect in it's showing, a stage actress she could have been herself. "Perhaps it was the mention of tea?" Glance towards Rhiannon then, and did that devilment appear for the woman to see in it's brief showing" Back to the Spanish Lord attention returned. "I'm sure you'd just love to wrap your lips around some crumpets, wouldn't you MiLord?" Oh yes, highly suggestive were those words, and stated for that purpose. Yes, the Barrister knew when bad was good, and good was bad.

Narrowed eyes, the ice blue of them barely visible through the thick dark curtain of lashes, pinned the Scot where he stood. "I am well aware of how small our world has gotten." The words emerged as a huffy whisper, through gritted teeth. "How else to you propose to correct that, without assistance" Really Aiden. I do wish you would think ...before..you speak." She shook her head, lifting her skirts high in one hand as she stepped out onto the street without the benefit of an escort. If the man was afraid, then she would handle the situation on her own. Almost with a decided purpose, she moved to where the Lord stood now with both Ladies. A consummate actress for many years, she could flush on command; combine that with a small pant, and voila! Instant importance. "Milord. I do believe the men who followed you have captured your thief.." The words came with a gesture in the vague direction of left, blue eyes guiless and wide. It paid to know when to make friends.

The audacity of the Spaniard Ambassador astounded her to the point she could barely speak at all. Staring at him as though he had two heads she glanced over at Carlotta and tried sublimely to keep that liberal tongue of hers still. Listening to the reaction of Carlotta she took her cue and sought to make things right as well. "Yes...indeed crumpets and tea after all it was in our markets that you lost your coin and you being a foreign diplomat of course we could show you a bit of compensation by way of English hospitality. What say you perhaps meet us at the King's Alehouse in about an hours time....besides I'm sure that you'll not find your thief now. They have a tendency to vanish quite quickly." Though as she said this another Lady joined them and seemed to be intent upon helping as well. Her gaze swung toward the new arrival and she curtsied in that respectful way yet again. "My Lady.." Waiting now to see if the Encinosa would take the well provided bait she kept her place and releasing the book with one hand tried to become slightly more relaxed. (d)

Hearing the man's pitiful attempt, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. Were these really the caliber of Noblemen he was trying to emulate" Looking back to Lia, he took in the note of annoyance. He was sure she was getting tired of fleeing in the night, taking only the clothes on their backs. This time however, it would be different, the plan could not fail if they were cautious. With a slight growl to Lia's retreating back, he threw caution to the wind and followed her closely. A dark blond brow rose at the smooth lie she told to the gathered party and he could not stop the slight smirk that he hoped was hidden from the Spanish gentleman.

-The eyes of some women were not able to be discerned at all. So well their lashes discreet such when their hearts loyalty resided elsewhere. The revelation of cleavage was not all so well either as his attentions did not seem to waver for too long upon them. Perhaps it was only a mere glimpse or so because it's portrayal was not so much more than that which was obtained to put into a memory to think of it later. Nonetheless, the books were eased back into her priorly holding arms. The title of Charles V reminding him well of the captor whom his country had taken not too much earlier that year. It thus with a twist of his head, he would look to the approaching woman who seemed to be in a lesser state of garb than the two duchess' either way, her words gave him an invitation to leave their company for one reason or another. A subdued nod was thus given to the ladies before he'd make his leave. His formalities left with the passing of the nod as he'd presume to weave into the crowds.-d-

Another to arrive, and Rhiannon's curtsy would have to do for them both. She was in no hurry to find out what the birthing process felt like, in reverse. Especially with the size of that kid's head! The arrival of the woman was a God send, for surely if exposure continued much longer, breastsycles her chest would become. Reclaiming her books, they'd be lifted as her cloak was readjusted. Seeing him leave without a word, a glance was spared in Rhiannon's direction. She'd await until the man was lost in the crowd before she'd slap between her legs where the boy's head had settled. "Alright trouble, out with you." Came her demand in a soft voice. The boy would inch his way out from behind her, then slowly come to stand at her side giving all that wide owlet look, surprised that these uppity folks, as his class called them, had even helped him. One hand released it's hold upon the books, and held out towards the boy with palm up. "Now give what belongs not to you to me, and I'll see you're rewarded." A bit of a smirk. "For returning property someone else stole." Of course the boy looked as if he was about to dart, but something in her words gave him pause and he'd hand over the man's purse to her. This she would place atop her books as that hand would delve into a pocket and withdraw some coins to hand to the lad. "Find a man by the name of Geddoe, at the blacksmith shop, tell him Lady Carlotta sent you. I think it would be worth your while."

A soft blink as the gentlemen departed, before her eyes settled on the small boy appearing from under the one lady's skirts. In a different situation, she would have boxed the amateur's ears, given him a few good pointers and sent him on his way. Much as she had done with Aiden. Only, he'd hung around. That thought brought a soft laugh, and she stifled it with one of her hands, adding it to the charade. Soft, innocent blue eyes lifted from the scene at their feet to the other woman, dipping a small curtsey. "Your Grace...." A quick turn to the woman now free of her burden and another dip was given. "And Your Grace..." Luck be with them, the company of two lady Duchesses at one time. She could feel Aiden approach and held in the smile.

Rhiannon watched all this with interest and as the boy sent a quick look her way as he relented his stolen purse she offered a gentle smile. Off he shot like a rabbit with a fox hot on the trail and she looked up at Carlotta. "You are very good with children Lady Basinstoke, and men as well it seems perhaps I could pick up some pointers from you." Her attention then turned to the Lady before them and her brother. "Though I wish the meeting could have been during another occasion....I am Duchess Rhiannon Kendrick of Suffolk, pleased to make your acquaintance." Dipping into the curtsey yet again she'd allow Carlotta the chance to introduce herself this time and thought humorously that her own knees just might give with all this curtseying. Eyes of chestnut hue moved between the two as the greeting was meant for both, then she moved back a pace to allow Lady Basinstoke her turn. What a night this was turning out to be already, and she'd fancied herself a dreary walk with nothing at all to entertain her. (d)

Rhiannon's words had her softly chuckling. "Try making the rank as Barrister, you find men and children are a lot alike to deal with." Softly stated with a lean towards the woman. The Spaniards purse would be now gripped with those heavy volumes held in her arms. Turning attention upon the man and woman who had assisted. "A pleasure to make your acquaintances. I'm Carlotta Basinstoke, Barrister to the King." Now she would indeed offer a curtsy, with no worries of being goosed in the process. Later, she'd find the situation quite humorous. Upon standing focus turned directly upon the woman. "I wish to thank you for your assistance in protecting the boy." She knew the woman lied, it was obvious she came forth to help. "What might we be able to do in return to show our gratitude?" Head tilted slightly to the side as she awaited not only their introductions in return, but an explanation as to why they went out of their way to do such a thing.

With a fist at his back, Aiden bowed low to the Duchess first and then to the Barrister but said nothing as of yet while the King's Aide spoke her appreciation to Lia. He had learned to follow her lead. The woman amazed him at times and they played off of each other well. When she had found him he had been nothing but a street thief, making a living the small charade. Taking him into the Theatre, she taught him that acting had it's uses outside of the show. Casting navy eyes upon the women, he smiled a charming, dimpled smile while he waited for Lia to work her magical spells with her fancy words and pretty blush.

Once again, the blush came in handy as color flooded her creamy cheeks. "I ....can sympathize with the boy." The admission came hesitant, the heavy flavor of her accent making the words nearly musical in nature. "I am Lady Natalia Ravinoux, of Russia. And this ...is my brother, Lord Aiden Ravinoux. We've only just come to England, you see, and....many times I feel as out of place as he must have just then." She once again smothered a small laugh, her pretty eyes dancing with unconcealed mirth. Whether it be from the act she was putting on, or the one she had just witnessed was unknown to all but Lia. "We are very pleased to make your acquaintances."

As was often the case in winter's grip, a storm had befallen upon the land. It was before this transpired, the Baron and Baroness Basinstoke of Westminster had taken their leave and traveled to the home of one Ard's colleagues in his practice. In fact, when they had departed after spending a grand evening with dinner and entertainment, the storm had yet to strike. It would be during their homeward travels such would take place. Gale winds that cut through a man and beast like the razor edge of a sword's blade. Snows heavy, driven to the point of being blinding. A combination that would be the cause and effect to the Basinstoke's demise.

None shall ever know for sure the full circumstances that caused their death. Be it the horses perhaps spooked by the foul weather, or the drivers inablity to visualize the road ahead, turning when he should have continued straight. Which ever the course of action, the Noble's carriage ended up careening over the roads edge at a point where the embankment gave way to a thirty foot drop.

The carriage was demolished, the Baron, Baroness, driver and footman survived not. Two of the four horses also would not survive, one to be badly injuried with a broken hip and leg. The fourth, miraculously managed to survive, running a short distance away to be found in thick cover later.

The heavy snow that fell would cover the carnage in a white blanket, though the spots of those injured gave the tale tell signs of red to freeze about them. It would be not until late morning the next day the accident would be discovered by two hunters tracking a stag. Then the matter of contacting proper authorities, followed by the process of identifying the bodies found, and to make proper announcement to any whom it effected.

Time-:Odd that as one of the class he was currently part of, he actually did his best to not listen. It was a difficult venture but one he pulled off well enough. He had no desires to think upon that which sent him down his path, that which was very much tied into family matters. He had turned his back in politeness, though stayed in the room as defense against any others as well to be there for her. He could not stop the memories, of family deposed and killed in the name of religion. Though his father had been a wise man, and no doubt knew it was coming. Having a wife who was Spanish, and Muslim was not a good combination. It had been only a matter of time before an enemy with ties to the Catholic church ended his childhood forever. His name broke through the wall he had placed, and he turned...un-able to hide the risen eyebrow. Him' Why on earth would the man want to speak to him of all people. Yet he did not voice it, instead coming about the bed in a hurried manner to bed low at waist. What else was he to do' Say no' His voice was soft, but loud enough for the man to hear. It held none of the confusion he held internally.:...Yes my Lord Baron"...

When the Captain neared the bed, Ard would beckon him closer, the words were to be whispered near his ear. "I leave her in your charge." The last words to impart the Baron's lips, as a cough wracked the man's body, blood began to flow readily from his mouth.

It was with horror she looked on, not that it was the first time she had ever seen a man die in a violent manner. This was her father laying before her, which made it more impactual than a friend; close or not. The nurse moved around to push her back from the bed, leaving her standing there looking down at him feeling more lost. No longer could she bear to witness the sight, and as his last breath began to leave his body, she turned and fled from the room. Pushing past all the men as she ran through, bursting through the door and out into the chill of the night. Deep breaths being taken, oh God, she felt as if she was going to throw up. Bending forward, hands pressed to the top of thighs, just in case that feeling decided to be more instead.

Fool-:He was frozen, as the man being to cough...to hack. He half heard the door open and the Lady run out of it even as her father grew still in a pool of his blood and spit...Anger welled in him.:...Old man, wake up...:His hand rose to shake the body at which point the nurse nearly fainted.:...This is not funny, I do not have time to play babysitter-...:He growled lifting instead, this was some kind of fool joke. Who the hell was he to be in charge of anyone, what the hell was he to do anything. He was not going to be morally obligated to the barrister, he had things to do. He looked down upon the corpse, behind the Lady's' departure men came in, the first to pose a question of what to do with the Baron":...That is not the Baron, it is a cadaver...take it to wherever you have his wife. Arrangements will be made...:With this he too turned and left the room, the sense of anger and annoyance slowly dissipating to a simple sense of dis-satisfaction. It was not difficult to find her, she had not gone far and even without a dress it is not hard to distinguish the woman from the men especially in current position. A fact that was not going un-noticed by those gathered, and one he quickly rectified. Taking up place to her side, he blocked view as his hand fell to her back and began to rub in small circles...silently. He wasn't even sure he was welcomed, now he was to what? Play daddy":

When she felt the touch to her back, she quickly straightened and stepped away. "I'll be alright." As was the way of grief, anger would be felt and exhibited. Angry at what or whom, she would be unable to answer that question clearly at the moment. Her mind was reeling. She knew well the events that should now take place, having the bodies delivered and prepped for burial. Her parents were members of the church, so it would mean a formal service, as much as she dreaded such. The contacting of her siblings and aunt. Right hand lifted, hand to cross over her eyes in a momentary hold before fingers began the gentle message of her forehead. It was then she remembered, as her hand slowly lowered to have those pained tear filled eyes now rest upon him. "What did he say to you?" More of a demanding tone in wanting to know what her father's last words were.

The truth in the lies-:He was correct of her, ever the strong one. His arms folded behind back as he straightened to look at her. She was very beautiful, and her momentary weakness only made it more so. She did not need a dress to be an alluring creature. He could take advantage of this, or at least try. He did not...perhaps it was some compassion, or simply a momentary lapse in judgment. Instead his voice instantly responded with the ease of a lie, a lie that was easier to swallow then the truth.:..He said, "Thank you for my daughter."..:It would appear she was the last of his thoughts. It would make sense also that he would thank the Captain for bringer her to see him, and it was what he would use. Besides what did it matter, it was not like things were changed...but...could he still use her, or could he still toss her away with that dying man's words in his head" He was not sure, for the first time in a long time. Perhaps he would need to re-think things, re-work them. The thanks he got for being kind, or at least partially.:...I will take you home now Lady...

For a long moment she just stood there looking at him, it was then with a sigh and sloping of shoulders she'd nod. Steps forward would have her stepping past him, though to pause as his side and glance up. "I thank you too, for giving me the little time allotted." How she wish she could have done the same with her mother, but that wasn't possible. Where had their so called God been in their time of need" Only another spur to put in the heart of the woman who believed not in their ways. Just as she was about to move, hesitation in her steps, another glance up at him before she'd speak again. "I'd say your costume was quite befitting this night, offering view of your familiar." Oh yes she dubbed him the Fox, but unlike the manner other's did. "I'm sure you'd like to return to your ladies in waiting, you need not accompany me further, Sir Adolph." Giving him leave of her presence, she'd not ruin the man's night in the way her's had been. It was then she stepped past, heading towards the carriage, that was until she spied a loose tied horse in the distance. Here her path shifted and it would be towards it she now moved.

Intercept-:She would not be allowed in her plan to run away so easily. Once more, the third time tonight, his arm hooked into her own arm and had every intention of steering her back towards the carriage.:...They will wait. I am not so vile a creature, but thank you all the same...:He would rather go rut a woman than escort her home, was the basics of what she had said. He would forgive her for now.:...Besides, my balls have been entrusted to a Lady who has yet to return them to me....:He smiled, a fake smile that was intended to make her at least pretend to laugh. He would not take no for an answer, he was not going to let her ride off and do something silly. Besides no matter her manner he did not think she wished to truly be alone.:

Again she found her arm linked within his hold and being lead back towards the carriage. His attempt of humor would have indeed illicit at laugh or smirk in another place of time. Tonight, however, she'd simply look up at him and offer the slightest, and yes, faux smile she could. "I never accused you of being vile, Sir. This is not a problem of yours and I obligate you not in it." In truth, she wanted to simply scream at the top of her lungs, to curse all things that lead to her parents death. She wanted to hurt something, make something hurt as badly as she did within. Toiling emotions out of control, like a volcano in the midst of eruption. Once they were at the door to the carriage, here she would halt and pull her arm free of his grasp and looked up at him. "As for you bullocks, Sir Adolph, I can assure you they're in safe hands." Bit of a grin that appeared more smug than a showing of teasing words. Waving off the hands of any who approached to assist, she'd enter the carriage on her own accord and plop down upon the seat. Before all who now witnessed her actions, she'd appear strong, brave. A good front, when inside she was falling apart. For the first time in her life, Carlotta Basinstoke knew what it felt like to house a broken heart.

"There's a difference between social gatherings Captain Montgomery, and having a meal with a gentleman and an officer." Bit more of a smile before her attention would turn upon the approaching Matradee'. His last comment had her looking over at him, and even the social grace to permit a touch of color to reach her cheeks. "You could very well be my knight in shining armor Captain Montgomery." A playful tease in that hushed whispered tone. When the Matradee' approached she'd return to her normal seating. "I would be honored if you'd order for us both, Captain."

"I hope so." He said under his breath. The captain's attention turned to the Matradee' as he discussed their dinner selection. He ordered the brisket with red potatoes, cooked carrots and rice. A small dessert would be brought out to them after the main course. A bottle of wine was selected. A fine Pinot. The Matradee' uncorked the bottle and poured the wine half full into each stemmed glass setting the first before the lady and the next to the officer with her. Brenton nodded his leave then lifted his glass in toast. "To the lovely and engaging Miss Basinstoke. I hope this will not be the only meal I enjoy with you, but many more in the future." The possibility was mute, this he knew for his reassignment had him leaving within three days time to sail to the south seas to an recently charted island where he'd be posted.

Her glass lifted and position to lightly touch against his. "And to the fine gentleman, Captain Montgomery, with like hopes, and if never to be fruitful, a lasting memory to which I can at least look back upon in fond remembrance." Meeting his gaze and holding it all the while the toast was being made. Upon the conclusion of her addition, a light tap along the side of his glass would be made. Her own to soon after withdraw as it was brought to her lips to take a slow sip of the contents. All the while gazing over the rim at him. Much to learn and unsure of exactly how much time she had to do so. That simple fact would be remedied.

His glass pulled away from the tap to hers, resting at his lips. "Ever lasting, to be sure." He breathed then took a longer sip, his own gaze held steadfast to hers. How could fortune and fate be so cruel" He wondered. Brenton fell silent, intent on studying the tiny details of her features so he could envision her when he was far away on the lonely and long nights of post, or standing on the deck of the ship. He could remember her face and a moment in time that was not of war, of battles and of death. Though this was the life that had called him to duty there were times he missed the simple pleasures of a meal taken in the presence of a lady's company. This woman had brought it all to light again. He missed such engagements and where he was going it was likely it would be a very long time before he'd enjoy such an opportunity like this again.

Glass to resettle upon the table, her hands to lower and rest upon her lap. It was evident in her seated position, she was one who had been taught the ways of status. Back rigid in stance, no slouch to be noted in any way. Chin to hold that slight upward tilt, meant to offer a companion a viewing with proper lighting. Schools that prepped girls to become young ladies, did so to have them ready and able to catch the eye of regal gentleman. A sign of breeding that was quite far from any such setting here about's. "How long do I have before the sea steals away your company from here?" Voice remained low in soft tones, to keep their conversation where it belonged, between the two of them. Yet with enough volume he could plainly hear every syllable of each and every word.

The sound of her soft voice was like a baited lure to draw him in sway to her words, leaning himself more towards her side. "Three days time the ship sets sail." He drew breath and took another sip of the wine before setting it down on the table in front of him. His gaze swung away from her face for a moment. "Could I see you again, Carlotta." More personal the affect to speak her given name between them. Brenton returned his eyes to fall across her stunning features, smiling each time their eyes met and held.

"I would be wounded if you didn't, Brenton." Her smile to warm a bit more as she met his gaze and held it. "My business matters aren't so pressing that I couldn't take the time." Slowly she'd take in his features and the cut of his seated physique by the way he wore his uniform. She had to admit, he made quite a picture to view. Strikingly handsome, a hard body due to the life he lived, not to mention the way he treated her. A true gentleman in every sense of the word, it was like a breath of fresh air in comparison to those she was surrounded by. "This island that you're going to, you said it was slightly civilized?"

The captain reached for his drink, picking it up from the table. He gave her a nod in regard to the question. "Yes. The British have been established there for almost two years now. It's a small community. With a fort, homes and markets. How civilized it is, I'm not so sure of. A few of the military officers have brought their families there I hear though." He took a sip, watching the expressions that crossed her features.

Thoughtful was the expression as she listened to his explanation. "Two years, I really have been out of touch with British actions. What is the name of this isle" You said it was just recently charted?" Trying to remember if she's heard of any stories of islands recently found beside those of the Black Jade Skull's. No matter how she tried, she just couldn't bring any stories to the forefront of her mind. Glass to be taken in hand, a sip of the wine enjoyed before it would find it's way back to the table's top.

"The island name is Tortola." He replied, running his finger along the stem of the glass. "I never asked. What are your plans" Will you be remaining here or moving on sometime soon, Miss Basinstoke?" He could see the Matradee' returning with a large tray carrying their meal and Brenton sat himself upright so the man could place their food before them.

"I have no intentions on going anywhere, anytime soon." Quietly stated, her attention would turn to note the foods arrival and she'd lean back to proper seating, not realizing she had actually leaned towards him during their conversation. "Although, I do travel quite often by sea. Sometimes I tend to matters and travel where my clients can not." Quite truthful, she'll just leave out the tid bit information on the status of these clients. "Perhaps on one of these excursions, we could travel off course for a few days." Leaving the implication lie.



His words halted long enough as the Matradee' set out their plates and asked if they needed anything else at the moment. Brenton shook his head and thanked him before the man moved on his way again. But his eyes rested on Carlotta's face. "I would love to see you again. You must know that Miss Basinstoke. But where I'm going is far to dangerous of a place for a lady to travel. I would not wish you to risk it." He picked up the knife and fork and proceeded to enjoy their meal together.

It was that need to get away, which drove the Barrister to the docks this night. To escape the insanity that surrounded her, to get some fresh air. The memories of the Manor only intensified with each glass of whiskey consumed. She felt as if she was just going to simply explode. To the point she never even took her carriage, just doaned that heavy woolen cloak of midnight coloration and made way to the stables to saddle a horse.

She pushed the beast hard in it's run from the land of nobility to that poverty. Upon reaching he docks she'd dismount and leave the horse with free rein. If was going to get stolen, so be it, at this point and time she really didn't care.

To the docks edge she would move, peering out into the darkenss. She couldn't actually see it anchored there off the shore, but just in knowing it was easy to visualize the bulk form of the Swan at anchor.

Intoxicated, bewildered, angry, and over whelmed, her usual defenses weren't at their ready, her awareness to her surroundings simply forgotten. Perhaps it was fate, it could have simply been arranged, no matter the purpose behind how it came to be, it just did!

Never did she see the man who approached from behind, by time realization of him being there came, his forearm was already pressed tightly across her throat, a thick hand pressed painfully against her mouth to maintain her silence. His other arm swooped about her waist, lifting her off her feet and dragging her backwards. She did try to fight, kicking her feet and swinging fists, only to be rewarded with pain from the grasp of fingers or press of arm. To the point she was wheezing just to intake air.

Her hearr pounded fiercly within her chest, she could feel herself becoming light headed with the lack of proper intake of air. Like a rag doll she was thrown into the alley and soon felt the press of the man's weight atop of her. Realizing what was happening, a burst of energy from within. Hands raised to either side of his head, then slapping as hard as she could against his ears, accompanied by a swift upwards motion of knee to plant within his groin. Her reward a groaning grunt and flood of curses, but it would also be a quite fatal mistake as well.

Having angered him with the pain she unleashed, he withdrew a dagger and thrust it downards into her right shoulder. A scream ripped from her lips as the pain surged through her, then again when she felt his blade bury deep into her lower chest area.

In the distance she could hear shouts and screams, but they were slowly beginning to fade. Before the darkness over took her, she felt a final thrust of the dagger within her stomach.

Her body now limp upon the frozen ground, small pools of vitae beginning to slowly seep around her. The man rose to his feet and ran off, not even waiting to take the woman's purse attatched to her side. The crowd was getting too close, and he wasn't going to get caught.

Soon the crowd was upon the deathly pose of the Barrister upon the ground. Several of the men rushed forward to collect her body, one barking orders to a few other's who rushed off. She would be quickly carried to a carriage and whisked off to a place much safer than the docks. The man who carried her off did his best to tend to her wounds, to stop the bleeding. He had noticed her breaths were quite shallow, but they were there, which meant she was still alive, and there might be a chance.

The man, Mister Zane, one who had sailed at her side upon the seas and the deck of the Swan, would be the one taking her home. Having sent for the ship's surgeon, who was enacting the part of a local physican for a particular French Madame. The men would also be rallied, to be set up as guards in the stronghold that was Greenleaf Manor.

When Mister Flynn arrived, he was not prepared for what he saw. They had told him the nature of her wounds, but the truth would not be unveiled until her clothing was removed. He set to work quickly, sewing and repairing what damage he could. Once done and bandaged all he could do was sit by and watch over her. He had done all he could for her, it would be her will if she should live or die.

It would seem one Captain Morse may have gotten his wish after all. Like the curse of a Gypsy. Fate had dealt it's hand.

Maeria Taussads Madame of the Lords Inn



When the physician had been called away, of course it would pique her interest. Especially as to why the man made such haste to run after some noble woman. They had the King's physician to tend to the blue bloods, why was this particular man called out specifically"

It was late evening and all she wore was a near translucent night gown of ruby red colored silk, draped over her shoulders was the matching robe. Her hair was so blonde, it was almost white. So easy was it to fix it up to look like one of the powdered wigs that was becoming a fast growing fad. Falling loosely over shoulders, it's length would sway several inches passed hips. Creamy complexion devoid of the usual makecup, which did little to compromise the natural beauty she had. Red leather slippers set off her nightly attire.

Once the physican left, she had one of her men to quickly follow. To bring back any information he could dredge up, and if need be, play the allie to the physican in any way he could; even if it ment simply being a messenger boy.

After she had seen the man off, back to her private parlor she'd return, to enjoy a snifter of tainted Abysinth. It wasn't uncommon for her to chase the Dragon now and then, and tonight would be one of those occassions. Before the warmth of the hearth the drink would be enjoyed, as she watched the dance of the flames and her wait began.

Many hours would pass before his return and the information offered that he gained. Of course there were several versions of what happened, as often was the case when house staff members were drilled for information. Though she did find it odd when she was told that most of the staff on hand were burly, rugged looking men. This whole situtation was begining to intrigue her quite fully. With an added bonus with payment, he would leave to use his new founded wealth to gain pleasure and relaxation. She would return to her chair before the fire, gazing into it as many questions surfaced to her mind.

1. Why was a Baroness at the docks, alone, at that late hour" 2. Why would someone want the Kings Barrister dead" 3. Why was the Ambassidor of Portugal sitting at the Baroness's side" 4. Who were these men that surrounded the woman's house, more like protective brothers than hired guards" 5. Just who was this Carlotta Basinstoke"

Questions that continued to roll about in her head, and the implications several offered made this woman someone she had to know of. Knowledge was power, and power equaled wealth. Madame Maeria Tussauds may quite indeed be one of the most wealthiest individuals in London, but it was all gained and retained by greed. If she could find some use in finding out more information on this woman, by all that's holy, or lives and breaths, she was going to have it! That was if the woman lived. Dead, she was of no use what so ever. Hate not the Madame for her prayers on the Baroness's behalf.

Awakening

C E Basinstoke: Since he found out' "When'd you learn..?" He had said it's been a week's time in passing since she was attacked. "Do they know who...?" Was Hank portraying himself as a physician again? Flynn was the ships surgeon, but Hank would pull a stunt like that just to see to her care. Many times he would say, a butchers block and surgeons table, two in the same. Hank would be one to give a man like Baltasar a hard time too. There was no love loss between the man and those of noble blood. He'd rather cut all their throats if he had his way. So yes, he jest would gain the smallest of smiles from her. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until he spoke of food and then the scent assaulted her. Before she could verbally answer, her body would tend to that task with a gurgling within her stomach. It was quite loud and couldn't be ignored, so she'd just offer him another of those slight smiles. "I think I'm being commanded." Referring to her body's demand for sustenance. "..I could go for more water too." The more she spoke, the easier it became and the more alert to her surroundings as well. It was then it hit her and she stared at him for a long moment before it would be asked. "Why are you here?" Blunt was the King's Barrister, surely he'd already learned this in their prior meetings.

DevioManipulacao: "I found out the night it happened Bonito. It was known within a short amount of time, you are quite famous it seems and not simply because you are a Baroness I'd take it. No, they do not know who....not yet but there is much speculation and the King's men are trying to piece it all together." He heard the loud rumbling in her stomach and laughed slightly at her words. "Then I am at yours and your stomachs command my lady." Reaching for the tray he brought it to rest upon his lap intent upon feeding her if he had to. A crudely made fork was lifted and he soon shoveled up a good helping of potatoes before pausing to answer her again. His head dropped slightly and then lifted as he spoke. "Well....we had decided that I would be your partner of sorts....a helpmate and so I guess that led me to believe that I should also act as your friend and guard. Not that you need one...."He of course was speaking of all the other men that surrounded her home. Lifting the fork again he brought it just before her lips urging her to take a bite and perhaps in some ways trying to keep her from asking anymore questions that could implicate him as having more than the in general care for her person. (d)

C E Basinstoke: As if that would thwart any questions. Did he forget what she did for a living so soon' The only thing the potatoes did was give her time for her mind to clear and more questions to be raised. The food would be slowly consumed, though like the water she wanted to simply gorge herself. Knowing better, sometimes little amounts were better than larger. "You don't lie well." Would be the next words uttered. "Drink" Please." The potatoes only strengthened her thirst and she'd be content for the moment of his feeding her so. "What's the speculation?" She had little time to actually think the matter through, and just in the few moments she had, many things came to mind. She was the one who seen to Kessler's fall. Was it due to that' The fact that she stood and opposed the Queen" No matter what direction you viewed it from, she had made many enemies on that night, and with what she was assisting the King with there would be many more to be made. If only she could remember clearly that night, of what happened and anything she could remember about the man who attacked her. It was still fuzzy, but time healed all wounds including memories.

DevioManipulacao: "Oh on the contrary Bonito....I do, just not to you I suppose." Putting down the fork he reached for the cup and settled it into her hands. She seemed to gain strength and that was a good sign, so he was ready to answer any questions she might lodge his way. "The only speculation they have..." This would be spoken as he forked a piece of chicken and sent the utensil again toward her lips. "is that they think the person was likely hired by someone....and that the attacker was a man as they found a few boot prints at the area of the struggle. They also found the intended murder weapon....a six inch dagger." He hated to bring back memories but perhaps in telling her these things she'd remember something and thereby help them to solve the situation. (d)

C E Basinstoke: The glass was lifted to sip from and she was slowly easing up into more of a sitting position. It wasn't easy, but she was managing to gain a better position. "It was a man, I remember that." Stated before the bit of chicken would be taken. She would try to remember what she could of that night, bits and pieces. "Strong ....a bit of an accent, though I can't place it." It wasn't of the sea, that much she knew, nor that of an Englishman. There was something different; it continued to evade her at the present. Brows furrowed as thoughts toiled within her mind. "I hurt him..." That she did remember ..."He tried to ...." A slow shake of her head as that memory washed upon her like a tidal wave, to even make her suddenly feel sick to her stomach. "I can't remember all." Frustration beginning to mount and being outwardly shown upon facial features.

DevioManipulacao: "There, there Amour....do not try too hard to remember just now. When you have the strength perhaps you should write a missive to the King....of what you remember, I'll be glad to take it to him for you. I'm sure he will not turn me away if he knows I have pertinent information about your would be murderer." He had paused in the delivery of food her way long enough for her to speak but now he started again this time offering her a bit of fruit. It seemed he knew what best to give her to strengthen her all the more. "When you're done perhaps you should rest a moment longer....if you do not wish me to stay now I will leave, perhaps go downstairs and give you some privacy." There was a look in those green eyes that seemed to be tender for a moment. But it quickly vanished and was replaced only with concern. (d)

C E Basinstoke: Gratefully the fruit was accepted and then she'd rest back against the wall of pillows behind her. For a long moment silence would hang between them as she just laid there staring at him. It was a look of study as if she was trying to read him. "I don't wish you to go." To be her quiet response. He had endured a week of watching over her. Having done so herself to others in the past with concern of a friend or client, she knew well the weight such would bear upon the one who waited to see if the other lived or died. A hand released its hold upon the glass as it reached out to lightly touch him. She knew not why, impulsive was the action. Her smile held a bit more warmth then it did a few moments ago and as soon as the words were spoken she'd look away to fix her gaze upon the glass. It would be lifted as a device of distraction.

DevioManipulacao: "Good....because I did not truly intend to." He'd then launch into a string of words she'd not understand and perhaps someday he'd tell her but for now he'd leave her to wonder, as if her muddled mind needed more to think on. "Voc" rivaliza o sol acordar, voc" n"o tem nenhuma id"ia quanto voc" f"z feliz este dia pelo seus que acorda. menos de tudo mim." ("You rival the waking sun, you have no idea how many you have made happy this day by your waking...least of all me.") As her hand touched his cheek he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned slightly into her palm, turning his face his lips brushed the area before eyes opened again and he rose. "Now....I am in sore need of a bath and I'm sure that your maids will wish to do the same for you. But I will be back when they are done...yes I've seen far more of you than perhaps I should but do not worry I've not had the infinite pleasure of bathing you myself." A somewhat sordid chuckle left his parted lips as he placed the tray back upon the bedside table and headed for the door. (d)

C E Basinstoke: There went that fevered look again. It was one thing to assume he had seen more of her than was privy to the eye, but to now be told" The temperature of the room just shot up quite a bit and she nearly choked on that drink of water she took. A few sputtered coughs followed by a groan of pain. Her chest and abdomen was throbbing now due to all her moving about. "That's good to know." A hoarse whisper. No, she had no clue as to what he said prior and one of these days she would learn and catch him at what ever he was saying to her and call him on it. Eyes then lifted to settle upon him. "You're taking a bath too?" That would mean he had belongings within the estate. She would bet that surely had tongues wagging and when she was able to get out and about, looks to be drawn her way. Glass would be set on the edge of her bed as she slipped back and down into those pillows. "I bet we're almost married by now." A thought outwardly spoken without knowledge of doing so. It was the scenarios of the level of gossip that surely ran rampant amongst the court. One as close as she was to the King couldn't sneeze without it being talked about.

DevioManipulacao: That did draw full laughter from him as her tone showed her worry. Turning he decided a verbal spar of sorts would not be too much for her to take though he only worried about making her laugh. "Yes, I took the liberty of having my things moved here so I could keep watch over you and not have to leave. I hope you don't mind, I'll likely return within a day or two to the castle now that you're awake.." A pause as he listened to her make a statement about them being almost married and he simply smiled. "Well...you have been asleep for a week....so who knows. You may want to ask Flynn how the ceremony went, it was quite hard to keep you awake during the whole thing....perhaps a bit boring for you...but for me...I'm happy Bonito." A dip of his head, he then left her to rest and think in the hope that she'd figure out more about the attack, the sooner they caught the man the better. God help him if Baltasar was the first to find him. (d)

C E Basinstoke: That had her nearly sitting straight up, only thing that kept her from doing so was the reminder in her abdomen as she began to move forward. Eyes widened slightly as she was just simply ....gawking. Yes, gawking at him. "What!?!" You'd think Balt had just grown a second head the way she was looking at him. "You jest!" No way, no way Flynn or anyone else would permit her to do something so foolish when not in her right mind! Or had they thought she wouldn't make it' Implications, accusations ran rampant in her mind. If the man was joking, he was simply pure Evil! But Lord have mercy on her soul, he was handsome and quite the charmer and the idea of him housing an evil side was quite alluring.