maryhowards-blog

[maryhowards-blog]

Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (2017) | dir. Angela Robinson

[maryhowards-blog]

warwickcastle‌:

Edward didn’t know the last time he allowed himself a day outside the throne room. Wondering the fields and allowing the grass to slip through his fingers he wondered how he allowed himself to go so long to roam free, even for a moment.

Despite having been afflicted with most illnesses, one malady which had not affected Mary was an aversion to flowers and plants. Having been deprived of the outdoors for most of her childhood, during the worst of her sicknesses, Mary now loved nothing more than to walk outside among the flowers. The palace grounds were beautiful and spacious, and Mary was enjoying the brief respite from the busyness of the court.

She saw the Duke from afar, and smiled warmly as she approached him. “Good afternoon Your Grace,” she said, her high voice only slightly betraying her nerves. Mary was unaccustomed to making conversation with most people, and relied heavily on the formalities of court life to mask her awkwardness. “Are you enjoying this beautiful weather as much as I am?”

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adelaidestaffords‌:

        the chattering of women had reached adelaide’s ears as she passed them by, and she had been unable to miss hearing her name spoken amongst them. combined with their tittering laughter, she could only assume the worst. gossips were the bane of her existence, for all she’d used them for her own gain. with a huff, she turned on heel, changing her direction so as to avoid further contact. and yet in her haste, she failed to notice another behind her, slamming into them with such force that she was knocked off her feet.

Growing up as a sickly and despised creature, Mary was used to people whispering about her. Poor thing, older Ladies would say to each other, when she was a girl, as if her age meant she was deaf to their criticisms, She’s nothing like her sisters. Privately, Mary had thought that was a good thing, but the way they had said it had made it feel like a very bad thing indeed. And now she was oldest, she was very attuned to the whispers and furtive glances that were often sent her way.

But, on this occasion, she wasn’t the subject of their talk. A gaggle of gossipers were watching her cousin, with whom she had only a distant relationship. Lady Adelaide Stafford. Mary had missed out on having a deeper relationship with her cousin, as she had spent most of her youth in bed, riddled with illnesses. She knew Adelaide well enough, but they couldn’t have been called close by anyone.

Adelaide tripped backwards, and Mary had a moment to consider how unusual it was that she knocked someone off their feet -- she didn’t remember ever doing that before in her life -- before she realised what she had done, and gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she cried, offering her hand to the other woman as the crowd stared at them. “I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

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hcwardss‌:

She had set herself up in a remote drawing room far removed from any of the main thoroughfares of the palace in an effort to hide herself away. It mattered not to the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk that their youngest daughter was n i n e t e e n , and it mattered not that they where now in attendance at court. To them Elinor was still little more than an IMPETUOUS child to be chided and controlled. That was why, even in the grand Palace of Whitehall Elle was harried by her ever present tutor, Mister Cavendish. Her recent escape had gone off successfully to the best of her knowledge until she was disturbed by a new arrival in the room. Without even looking up from her book she started to speak ❝I do hope you are not here on the orders of my tutor? I have not the slightest intention to return❞

Though she was not as predisposed to isolation as she had been as a child, Mary always preferred the company of books to people. She was shy and quiet, and conversations which came so effortlessly to others simply did not to her. Needless to say, life at the King’s court didn’t suit her in the slightest -- she was continuously bowled over by the grandeur of the place, intimidated by the noblemen, and longed for the Howard household, and the familiarity therein. She had, however, found a remote drawing room where she could sit in relative peace for hours. It was her favourite place in the palace, and she didn’t assume that anyone else thought to use it as a bolthole.

But, when she entered, she was greeted with the sight of her younger sister. Mary smiled, quietly relieved that, of all of her siblings, she had run into Elinor. “Of course not, Elle,” she said in her soft, lilting voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She sat opposite her sister, her tired and put-upon bones even now grateful that they didn’t have to maintain such perfect and stiff posture. “I wasn’t aware you knew of this room. Are you hiding from Mister Cavendish?”

[maryhowards-blog]

(bella heathcote) — have you seen (MARY HOWARD), the (twenty two) year old (daughter of the duke of norfolk). word around court is that they’re they’re (friendly & polite) but i’ve also heard them described as (timid & sickly).

Hi everyone! My name’s Sophie, and I’m super excited to be here. I’ve been RPing for about 6 years, but it’s been a while since I’ve been in a historical RP, so please bear with me!

Some fun facts about me:

I live in England!

I’m a public librarian, and I love my job <3

I adore Harry Potter, Gotham and Hannibal. (Also Bates Motel, Jessica Jones, The Tudors and too many shows to name)

Now let me introduce you to my sweet summer child, Mary. If you’re interested, I renamed her partly because my name is Sophie, and her original name of Sophia was just too close to mine.I named her after Mary Mallon (Typhoid Mary) who was the first carrier of typhoid fever in America.

The third daughter of the Howard family, Mary barely survived birth. Born earlier than expected, she was afflicted with every childhood illness imaginable -- she was prone to coughing and sneezing and shivering, even in the height of summer. She was a pathetic little thing, and garnered pity from everyone who set eyes on her, for her small stature and pale complexion. Those few who knew of the circumstances of her birth whispered as loudly as they dared that she might have been better off going to God, as she would probably not live through childhood.

But live Mary did. As a child, she beheld her life with a quiet melancholy that came from months of isolation. She spent weeks at a time in her bedroom, weakened by some ailment or another, her thick curtains drawn, and her bedclothes up to her chin. She took refuse in the worlds of books, and made her way through the extensive Howard library as she grew up.

Of all the Howard children, Mary was the quietest and most reserved. She had nothing in common with her eldest sister, given that there was a seven year gap between them, and Amelia harboured a hatred in her heart which Mary didn’t like. It wasn’t reciprocated, but Mary always got the impression that her older sister simply had no time for her. Same too with George and Georgiana. In fact, of all of her siblings, Mary only felt close to Elinor, and even then, that was because she was the youngest, and Mary felt an ever so slight sense of protection for her, simply for the fact that she was the youngest.

As she moved into her early adulthood, Mary felt like an outsider within her own family. Having been relegated to her bedroom in her more formative years, she lacked the same confidence that her sisters and brother possessed, and now comes across as a timid and flighty thing, nervous and shy.

She is pretty, people say -- much prettier than she was in her youth -- but she still has a kind of gangling awkwardness that plagues her as much as her continued ill health. She is usually afflicted with some sickness or other, whether it’s as harmless as a cough in the winter months, or a fever in the warmer weather, her childhood illnesses never really left her.

Now, Mary is a quiet but thoughtful young woman. She is polite to those she meets, and carries the Howard name with as much grace as she can muster. She lives in the long shadows cast by her older siblings, and looks on in horror at the rebellious actions of her little sister. She longs, in truth, for her betrothed to sweep her off her feet and rescue her from her grey and drab existence, as princes do in the tales she grew up reading.

That’s all I can really say for the time being, but more will come when I start writing her! I’m so excited to be here. Hit me up for plots! ^_^