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[thexreluctantxviscount]

TOLIVANDER GABIREL ALBARRON

Tolly did not recognize the face but that was not surprising. He had spent 10 years out of England and as such, there were numerous faces he could not place and the stalwarts he knew were not yet quite old enough to be escorting their daughters through a season. As such, he found himself in an unusual middle space of not being as young nor old enough to fit comfortably anywhere.

“Good to meet you Sterling. I am Tolivander Gabriel Albarron, Viscount Brooksbury to be more particular.” He replied with equal good manners. The other man was a handsome fellow and clearly well spoken. “Please have a seat. I confess I am being overly gregarious tonight. I assure you I am not quite this obnoxious usually. I am… in fact…” he leaned in as if divulging a great secret, “…very dull indeed. But…” he held his finger to his lips and shook his head, “That is between us. Come, what are you drinking. … let me buy so that may tolerate my company and I am not left alone with my dreary thoughts.”

He held up a hand to flag the barkeep and draw him over to the table. “Sterling… tell me of yourself, what has brought you out tonight?”

“Oh please do not apologies my lord, I find we all need to let loose every once in a while,” Edward interjected. Edward took the seat opposite the Viscount, thanking the barkeep when he was handed a glass of whisky. Edward himself wasn’t one for abundance, he had only been intoxicated a handful of times in his youth. Old school friends would undoubtably say he should have had more fun when he had the chance; but he never quite saw the point or pleasure in overindulging though he would not deny others or judge them for their pleasures. 

He took a sip of his drink before answering. “Truthfully my lord, avoidance,” he laughed, as he began to explain. “I always feel the need to flee when my mother brings up the topic of marriage, and my lack of a wife,” he finished shaking his head. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you knew to London?” he inquired. The Viscount is not familiar to him, and such a character Edward could not imagine himself forgetting.   

Since arriving back in the city Edward had noticed many new faces to the Ton. It wasn’t a bad thing, if anything the man thought it would make for an interesting season. New blood was always exciting; especially when it came to the balls.

Tolly nodded agreeably as Sterling waved off his apologies. He liked the man better for it. He laughed at the statement but it was not unkind. “Ah yes, it seems forever that is our great mystery is it not. To wed or not to wed? If only death were so difficult as that age old question.” 

He sighed and tossed back another burn of whiskey. “Not precisely. I have however been away for some time. Most of your adult life I am sure. I left for the continent almost 15 years ago and aside from brief returns to see my family, I have not returned in truth until this year. I spent the better part of the time in New Spain where I spent most of my time engaged in work rather than Society. Although it does exist in some form there. I doubt we could truly escape it. However, I found a long day of labour prevented me from having much time of it.”

Tolly shrugged amiably, a habit he had picked up overseas that he had yet to abandon despite spending the last few months among society. “I returned after it became known to me that I was, most unfortunately, now in possession of the title. So I too, am now required to find a wife. I thought... nay, too strong a work, I had hope that was quite recently dashed. Entirely my own delusion I assure you. It turns out that I am an idiot.”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

“I really don’t know. It’s hard to keep up with what he’s doing, unless we’re both going to the same event. But then, almost all of my siblings are like that, all busy doing things that excite them and get them about in the town. Jacques is a known figure in all sorts of antiques stories, working on clocks and tinkering with other little projects, I swear, and Isabeau is always volunteering time to do needlework or help garden. And Margot, I swear, I think Margot makes better friends than I do with everyone that I introduce her to, and then she’s out visiting every part of town.”

There was fondness dripping from his tone along with a healthy mix of disbelief, a pride in how resilient his family was and how they were cutting their own way into society without waiting for him to do all the work. “Finding a bride can be a difficult task, but perhaps not one you should spend every night worrying about. Come to dinner one night, you can meet my family instead of worrying about the pace of things here. Do we have a deal?”

The affection was laced in every word and it gladdened Tolly’s heart. He had not lied. He had in fact thought often over the years of the handsome frenchman who found himself in a pickle from which Tolly managed by sheer good timing and luck to extract him. Alexandre was a fascinating man and he knew he should think of him as Mortier but they had met as equals and friends so long ago that he seemed a bit silly now. 

“It is indeed and I could use the distraction. Perhaps your Margot will have some good advice for an old bachelor. I certainly could use it.” Tolly replied cheerfully. Then he sighed, “But now the hour grows late and I must depart. Let us meet again soon, please. Seeing you well relieves a worry I have carried since I heard how things took a turn on the continent. I very much look forward to this dinner.”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

“First the ring, I’ll inform my mother that I need it and that should be handled. She’ll be overjoyed, of course, she’s been nagging all season about how I need a bride and she can finally check that off her to-do list. Do you know that she blames me for Winifred not having a child yet? Did I mention that? She says God refuses to bless Winifred with a full life until take care of my own matters. Rubbish.” But at least it wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Nodding along to the list forming inside his head, William found that it matched perfectly with Brooksbury’s - well, almost perfectly. “Yes, confirm and - wait, no. First I should likely… gargle with cologne or something, I shouldn’t go in smelling of drink.” William realized, staring at his cup before having another sip, his tongue decidedly loosened just as required.

“She and her parents are in London, it won’t be any trouble to meet with them. I plan on doing it as quickly as possible, I don’t want her to think - ” Instead of nodding, now William shook his head. She wouldn’t, would she? After the flowers? “I hope she doesn’t cry again.”

“Good good.” Tolly replied, unable to stop the small bubble of laughter, “Well that is rather a special twist of logical misapplication. However, Winifred probably enjoyed being spared the flagellation. In my experience as little as that may be, infants come when they will.”

He shrugged lightly, sipping his drink and stretching back in his seat. “We have hours yet. You can drink that up and be sober as a church mouse by the time we get there. You can apply your ablutions and change your clothes before you head over.”

Tolly straightened at the statement, “Crying? Care to explain that rather cryptic statement? Also may I have the name of your delightful bride to be? I assure you it’ll go no further than me until it is announced but I am dreadfully curious.” It wasn’t a demand but rather a gentle question. He didn’t want to press this stoic man suddenly loosed from the reins he bound himself in. Like a horse flying free after a lifetime of being constrained, he didn’t seem to know where to put his feet or which direction to take. Like a colt seeing open field at last.

[thexreluctantxviscount]

-

Out of all the languages that Richard knew, Spanish wasn’t his most known but he had picked up a fair bit and some had been from a Spanish sailor he had met back in his university days. The two had exchanged many things from stories of women and who the best in town was to phrases that were not best suited for polite society or the son of an earl. Richard could grasp waht the man had said, even without understanding it fully. Honestly, Richard was surprised he remembered any of it after that night and the amount they had both drank. It was a good night so there was that. 

“Did you propose?” The question was blunt but Richard had found the man’s reaction odd. Had he believed himself in love with Margaret and if so, why wait for another to come along to declare such intentions as Richard had. The decision was Margaret’s to make but as far as Richard knew, there was no one else who had even looked twice at Margaret and more fool them. Richard nursed his drink as the man spoke, listening closely to every word. “Did you think yourself in love with Miss Mulgrave or simply on the cusp of such a thing?” Richard should have asked himself why he was asking these questions but there was something inside of him that wanted to know and for the life of him, he didn’t understand why. 

The wedding surely was a topic that most women enjoyed to discuss and Richard had no issue in indulging such topics either. “I wasn’t an earl the last time I married and with her father coming, I’m sure there will be quite the ceremony.” Shy of the queen’s daughter getting married, Richard firmly believed that his and Margaret’s wedding would be the most anticipated one of the social season, even just based on their titles. Miss Mulgrave had captured one of the biggest rakes in the season, of course people would want to see if the wedding would go off without a hitch. 

“I plan on Miss Mulgrave getting to know the Harcourt estates so I think, if it was just my decision, to retire to our estates.” And Richard did not like the idea of his new bride seeing him so uncomfortable on a boat. That was best left for other days. “Besides, honeymoon’s aren’t for traveling, they are for the bride and groom to get to know one another.” The delights of travel could not compare to a honeymoon, no matter where it was spent. 

Tolly leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching Harcourt speak in some amazement. What was with this series of questions? Finally, a light frown marring his features as he spoke, “Forgive me Harcourt, but were you under the impression we were friends? I can count precisely two gentlemen in this city with whom I would share such confidences and you are neither of them.” His tone was soft and almost puzzled.

“So if the questions were kindly meant, let me express to you that they were not at all appropriate to ask of any but your dearest friends. However, if they were meant with malice...” Tolly continued, confident that this latter point was the truth, “...then I am reminded once again why, as the spare, I left the Ton so many years ago and how I am almost pleased to discover I was not wrong to do so. My life outside it, as challenging as it may have been at times, was far superior to one where one being appropriate and gracious is met with maliciousness. It seems my first impression of you was quite incorrect. How disappointing. I usually get it right.”

Tolly set down the glass in his hand with a tiny clink and collected his hat. “I shall leave you to your night, I’m sure my presence is best noted in my absence.”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

The afternoon heat hit Bea like a slap in the face, and she blinked several times as though the motion would cool her off. She was suddenly grateful for Tolly’s suggestion of a cool treat, and she sighed at the thought of the sweet. 

“Grey suits you,” Bea replied, flashing a rakish grin. “If you can’t stay out of the line of Whistledown, at least it better be something interesting, yes?”

As they continued down towards their destination, Bea’s mind flashed back over the years. Tolly had traveled, experienced life, but here she was at nearly thirty with hardly anything to show for it. The thought slightly soured her good mood, and she sighed yet again. 

“I’m currently employed as a governess for my dearest cousins,” Bea said. She laughed softly to herself. “Imagine, they let me influence the lives of small children! I suppose I could have warned them about my atrocious manners, but that would have meant that I wouldn’t have been able to escape my mother dearest.” 

Bea turned a curious gaze to Tolly. “Tell me, Tolly, what have you been up to? Where did you go?” The last question left her without a thought, and she hoped that Tolly wouldn’t take offense to such a blunt question. 

Originally posted by mulligxns

“Oh it does, does it?” Tolly teased in reply, “And what do you know of shades of grey. You are a proper young lady.” He grinned as he escorted said lady to their destination, maid trailing behind them. It was such an easy thing and a pleasant relief from his turmoil of late. Finding Bea again was like finding hope for a brighter day to come.

“A governess. Well you are certainly clever enough so I suppose that suits.” He affirmed with a nod, a little surprised that the children she was educating were not her own. However, he did not know the whole of the tale and he didn’t want to bring up painful recollections and spoil their outing. Perhaps her young gentleman perished overseas or she had her heart set on someone who selected another young bride or... now he was getting as fanciful as one of those gothic tomes that his sisters and Bea enjoyed so very much.

“Well, I travelled for a bit, quite a bit in fact, and then I settled in New Spain. My mother’s people had property there and I found, well, I suppose I found a home. It is so beautiful. Perhaps one day you will come to see it?”

The doors to Gunters were open and he escorted the young lady through the doors and to one of the tables. “Ah so here we are. Please Mrs. Baley, have a seat as well.”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

-

☩   ⸻⸻  There were times when Sophia envied those with close sibling relationships. Of course, she had her sister and Henrietta. However, there was a sibling bond that she so often saw in others that she missed out on. Though she was sure her dear friend was speedy in her correspondence, she was amused at the gentleman’s response to his sister. Were her own twin as speedy in her correspondence, Sophia was sure she would share the same sentiment as Tolivander. 

She was not exactly shocked at the invitation, but Sophia did take a moment to process it before offering the gentleman a smile. “I would be delighted. Weston house can get so very quiet in the evenings.” She replied, eager to see the dynamic between the family members. “I am sure the anticipation is rather disagreeable to deal with, but a child is a blessing - your sister must be quite excited.”

It was with his comment that Sophia decided Tolivander to be a romantic at heart and a small smirk formed on her lips. She wanted to tease him, but how could she tease someone so obviously kind? “That is quite the notion, My Lord.” She replied, taking a sip from her lemonade. “I fear I had not thought of it in such a way. I merely regarded it as someone’s imaginative creation. Though, I dare say, I enjoy your theory much more than my own. Are you always so inclined towards the romantic side of things?”

“Well with Vivi present, I rarely see quiet. As you can imagine. She is... well Vivi. But she always has something to say and she is determined to master the pianoforte this year, much to the torment of all living creatures in the house. If only she would stick to singing.” Tolly replied with a soft laugh, “You will then be able to return to your lovely home and savour the silence.”

Tolly grinned as she described his impression of the Shell Grotto. “Perhaps.” His eyes saddened for a moment as his mind drifted to those he lost and his smile took on another air entirely before he replied, “But my inclinations are my own and as a man of a certain age, I do not feel compelled to hide these thoughts behind a polite mask, especially not with someone I am most confident I will be able to regard as a friend. Vivi has many flaws, as do we all I suppose, but her taste in friends has always been exemplary.”

He shrugged lightly and took another sip of refreshing lemonade, “What spot in Margate did you enjoy the most?”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

[thexreluctantxviscount]

-

The Viscount seemed to be wallowing in misery tonight and Richard understood to a certain degree. Had the man truly been serious about courting Miss Mulgrave, he would have proposed. He did not, therefore, RIchard doubted the man’s intentions. As he strolled by the man, his ears perked up. Languages was a skill of his, though the viscount clearly did not know this. While Richard’s Spanish wasn’t the best, he smiled in response to the man.

Richard took the seat, almost gladly to do so. “So there are no hard feelings, I know you were planning on courting Miss Mulgrave.” Richard had no ill will against the man nor did he think he was less of value given his lower rank in station. Both were second sons, both had inherited all that was not to be there and still despite their similarities, Richard could not help but feel the tension in the air. All was fair in love and courtship and while Richard did not fany himself in love with Margaret just yet, he was not one to rule it out completely in the future no matter how much it terrified him. If the man before him truly felt that he was in love with Miss Mulgrave, he should not have waited so long to declare such feelings.

“We are both here for the season and her father expressed some wishes to see his daughter in London so I think St. George’s will be the place.” Richard had married his first wife in a church local to his family seat. It was Old All Saints Church, or Harcourt chapel, as many had known it by. It was near Nuneham and it was a small affair but Richard adored it nonetheless. Now, he was an earl, marrying a duke’s daughter and so a bigger ceremony was to be expected.  “All this waiting weeks to marry is proving more difficult than anticipated but la paciencia es amarga, pero su fruto es dulce.” Richard watched the man closely as he spoke in the same language as Tolivander did when he first approached him.

It was a gritty expression, not generally known to those who learned their Spanish from the nation itself so there was a chance that Harcourt wouldn’t know its source or meaning. However, it seemed that was not the case. He shrugged as the man replied to him in fairly good Spanish of his own. Of course. Of fucking course. It appeared Tolly was cursed.

He threw back another tumbler of alcohol and pushed his glass once again toward the barkeep who obligingly filled it again. Tolly shrugged and briefly debated advising the other man that the young lady had encouraged him to court her. However, it was low, even for a man whose heart and pride were stung. Besides, the lady had been charming, not sincere it seemed, and he had no cause to believe she had meant what she said. Young ladies had used him before to test their power and it appeared Miss Mulgrave was much the same. 

“As I said before, the decision was the lady’s to make and she has.” He shrugged, “Besides I have loved before, sincerely, deeply and perhaps that is all a man gets. Just once and I have had it so who am I to begrudge anyone else such joy. No one at all.” It was a meandering sort of response, not quite making sense. 

He wasn’t entirely certain that Miss Mulgrave would enjoy so many eyes on her at a wedding but then again, he didn’t know her at all, obviously, so who was he to offer any thoughts or suggestions on the matter. “I’m sure that will be lovely and I’m quite certain very well attended.” Suddenly he was most relieved that he preferred to attend Church elsewhere such that he would not have to hear the bans read at St. George’s. 

“Will you travel for the honeymoon or retire to your Estates, Harcourt?” 

[thexreluctantxviscount]

Open Starter || July 1800 || State room, Buckingham House

Perhaps it’s that the windows are thrown open to let in a cross breeze, or that the empire’s divine ruler isn’t present (though the threat of her arrival is always a possibility), but the state room has a rare lightness to it. The air is energized by expectation, rather than riddled with tension. Footmen drift about the room carrying gold trays laden canapés, and for those in need of refreshment to calm their nerves, drinks. 

At the far end of the room, the doors swing open. A gaggle of ladies enters. A few are clearly experienced at court, they fan themselves coquettishly, eyes already darting around to assess the room. Those guests who run in the right circles might recognize a several of the Queen’s favorites: Lady Kedley, Lady Tolly, Lady Holston.  

At the front of the group, in an embroidered dress of pale yellow, is a less familiar face. She appears almost birdlike in the doorway, poised to flutter into the room, expression open and eager.

The doorman confirms suspicion: “Her Royal Highness, Princess Amelia Augusta of England.”

A footman steps forward and bends his head to his fellow. The simple, routine announcement sets off a whispered argument. Hints of Ireland and proper title meet the ears of those closest to the door.

“I do hope,” a quiet voice says, pitched just above the fray. The conversation eases as the room realizes the Princess speaking. “That chief among my many titles, whether that be Princess or Emily, I am considered welcome.”

And just like that, the matter is resolved.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Kedley says smoothly, guiding the group to begin their rounds around the room. “Might I present Lady Tilbury?”

Of course the exact minute the lovely youngest princess of the Royal Family entered the room, his sister would be elsewhere, leaving Tolly to enter the fray alone and uncertain. He was still growing accustomed to the formality of the Ton. A royal greeting, as brief as it would likely be since the Princess would have no particular cause to linger and speak with him, was nonetheless terribly intimidating, even to a man of his years.

As she stepped into view, he was struck by how very young she was, fine of feature and absolutely lovely. Somehow her youth took some of the apprehension out of the greeting, aided by the fact that his mother and sister appeared at his side at that exact minuted. Two well done curtsies were paired with his respectful bow. 

“It is truly an honour to make your acquaintance, your highness, I am Tolivander Albarron. Please allow me to introduce you to my mother, the Lady Brooksbury and my sister, Miss Albarron.” he managed to get out without a single stumble although the mental gasp of ‘dios-mi’ ran through his mind the entire time. Both his mother and sister murmured similar platitudes of warm greeting, although his sister’s smile was perhaps overly bright under the circumstances. But oh she would have quite the tale to tell in her next set of correspondence detailing every element of the Princess’ gown and manner. Tolly absently wondered if the Princess ever grew tired of being dissected by others.

[dice roll for Tolly - 14]

[thexreluctantxviscount]

-

“Well – well, yes, it is – it is indeed a-an escalation but – well.” 

It was a rather convoluted piece of logic, and he must have missed a turn here or there because it still was not making sense – it must be a-an American way of thinking, he concluded, shifting.  

“We could theorize until the-the blessed End of Days on-on who or-or what Whistledown might be. Let us agree then, that the two – the vandal and the gossipmonger are linked – and if we find one, why – it will likely provide clues to the other; we should concentrate efforts to that end.”

Plans, plans he could do – and do well. The mere laying out of it was invigorating; he had straightened up into parade rest without conscious thought – well, a twinge when he was not careful of his injured hand. 

“What we have – what we have is three current paths: paint, printers, and-and –” after a moment of musing, inspiration struck in the form of “– patrols. Item the first: paint – as I mentioned, I have my sample here, and-and I shall ask those who were so afflicted also for theirs for-for the master to investigate. Item the second: printers –”

Here, he nodded towards Brooksbury. “You appear to have a-a plan in mind on that front; I-I shall leave it in your, hrm, hands, a-as unorthodox your reasoning may seem. Only – I do believe the-the Lady Cobham has an impressive collection of-of Whistledown letters, should perusing the prints there be of any use? She, too, has been discussing this-this plague on our Society with me, and-and – well, if anything, provides an excellent tea.”

Last but not least – “Item the third – it-it occurred to me, in talking it over just now, that what is needed is a-a patrol around these neighborhoods, if only to-to keep an eye on who might not – not fit in, as well as show both Whistledown and this-this vandal that we are watching. And I suppose – be a-a comfort to those living there as well – to have a-a gentlemanly presence about. I shall be happy to set something up; it shan’t be much different than setting up a-a watch schedule on a ship.”

He turned then, and offered Brooksbury his hand. 

“Godspeed then, sir, to us both; I shall likely be-be seeing you about – and let me know if you too would like to be in the-the patrol. I –”

A timid clerk – perhaps a-an assistant of some sort? – had shuffled up, his entire being a question mark. 

“– I see we are being called to answer for our-our time lingering in this shop.” He patted his pocket where the paint samples were – gave the other man a sharp nod. 

Tolly watched as the man appeared to then have an entire conversation with himself. A twinge of humour filtered through, despite the heat of the day. Effingham was, if nothing else, entertaining. Was colluding with him in any fashion a good idea? He could see the ladies run from him in droves should such an association be known but then, perhaps not. After all, Effingham was wed, to a most beautiful lady. So perhaps... ah who knew.

Regardless he nodded, “I will look into the matter and we shall meet again, at some later date to discuss. I suggest Brooks, where we might not be overheard?” he suggested, noting that little of Whistledown’s information seemed to originate from within the Gentlemen’s Club. But then again, that might be too obvious a giveaway.

He shook Effingham’s hand because he could not let the poor man’s hand just linger there, no matter how absurd he might be. And then stepped back so that his needs might be seen to first. Fortunately a second clerk, a little bolder than the last stepped around the counter and he was able to be seen to.

Ah well, at least this plan would be far more pleasant a task, no matter how fruitless it might be, than his currently unsuccessful attempts at courtship. Already he dreaded the forthcoming rounds of house parties, dinner parties, balls, salons and musicales that would soon be inflicted upon him.

[end here or on yours?]

[thexreluctantxviscount]

Entering the establishment, Edward surveyed his surrounding. He hadn’t made plans with anyone in particular that fine evening. No, Edward had gone for a walk, stifling bored of the conversation his mother and sister were having. Ordinarily he’d tune them out, grab a good book and let the words on the page carry him away. However, their converstation had turned to the announcement of an engagement and that was dangerous territory.  

First his sister would question why she was not married yet. His mother would then give him a knowing look. He wouldn’t apologies for being particular, only the best was good enough for his sister. Like clockwork, the conservation would then turn to why he has yet to find a wife and how he should take the opportunity of the new season to finally settle down and wed a nice respectable women. 

Hard pass, on that particular converstation. He would then excuse himself to his study; his mother would then follow close behind, because she always did. They were dreadfully predictable. Not that Edward would have it any other way. Instead he’d excused himself, feigning the need for air. This wasn’t the man’s first season, far from it, so he walked along the familiar pavement until the gentlemen’s club caught his eye. A quick drink and some reprieve before he returned to the lions den.  

A voice to left startled him, pulling him back from his thoughts. Edward quickly recovered, turning towards where the man was seated. Edward couldn’t place the man’s face, but he looked respectable enough. “How generous, thank you,” he said, walking over to the man and taking a seat. “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting sir, I’m Edward Sterling, of the Lancaster Sterlings.” He hated the formality, but his father had drilled in him from a young age, that formalities were important. 

Tolly did not recognize the face but that was not surprising. He had spent 10 years out of England and as such, there were numerous faces he could not place and the stalwarts he knew were not yet quite old enough to be escorting their daughters through a season. As such, he found himself in an unusual middle space of not being as young nor old enough to fit comfortably anywhere.

“Good to meet you Sterling. I am Tolivander Gabriel Albarron, Viscount Brooksbury to be more particular.” He replied with equal good manners. The other man was a handsome fellow and clearly well spoken. “Please have a seat. I confess I am being overly gregarious tonight. I assure you I am not quite this obnoxious usually. I am... in fact...” he leaned in as if divulging a great secret, “...very dull indeed. But...” he held his finger to his lips and shook his head, “That is between us. Come, what are you drinking. ... let me buy so that may tolerate my company and I am not left alone with my dreary thoughts.”

He held up a hand to flag the barkeep and draw him over to the table. “Sterling... tell me of yourself, what has brought you out tonight?”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

“Good. I am pleased to hear it.” Tolly affirmed as he walked beside intoxicated young lady, who was admittedly holding her own rather well.

“I think perhaps, your maid should be…. bothered. Or at least have another lady accompany you to and from home when you enjoy a brief social outing or get a  little air.” He was unable to help the suggestion, a world of experience so unlike her own, he suspected, taught him how very dangerous her actions could be. However, he was not her lover, brother, or keeper. So he wasn’t about to order her about, as much as he rather would rather like to do so.

“He shall not hear of it from my lips then but Whistledown has spies it seems.” He let the warning trail away, “Did you at least enjoy your brief sojourn from home?”

-

“Ah, Whistledown,” Aurelia muses, liquor having loosened her tongue, “What will she say about me that hasn’t already been written? She’s already made it quite clear to the ton, that I’m not the kind of woman, one ought to take seriously.”

“And perhaps, she’s right,” Aurelia says, rather quietly, before shaking her head. “But it’s no matter…think about it, my lord, how many members of the ton live their lives for Whistledown, constantly concerned with what she may or may not say? A constant state of worry is no way to live.”

"But yes,” Aurelia replies, a smile replacing whatever displeasure she had felt towards Whistledown, “Tonight, was a much needed respite, however, brief it was,” she declares as her home comes into view, “Thank you for the company, my lord. I should hope you, too, find your way home, safely.”

{End, here or on yours? :D}

THE END

[thexreluctantxviscount]

[thexreluctantxviscount]

-

Walking into Brook’s club, Richard was given almost a hero’s welcome. Men patted him on the back as he walked through while others congratulated him on his betrothal. Everyone knew that Margaret Mulgrave most likely had the biggest dowry of the season but that truly was no concern to Richard. His first wife didn’t have a sizable dowry and that did not bother him in the slightest so why should it when it was the opposite? In amongst the celebrations and congratulations, Richard felt as if he were back in his school days where he was the life of the party, the one to go to for a good time.

In amongst the roar of the men, Richard spotted Tolivander Gabriel Albarron, the Viscount Brooksbury. Even in their brief conversation, before the talk turned to Margaret, Richard had hoped the two could become friends. They had plenty in common, both second born sons inheriting all that should have been their brothers but like the women on the marriage market, they both had seemingly set their sights on the same lady but Richard had emerged victorious. In truth, Richard was not aware of the man’s interest but she had accepted him and there was nothing to be done about that now.

Richard watched as it looked as if the man were drowning his sorrows and he only hoped that he was not to blame. Not only had Margaret chosen him but Richard had proposed in a very public way at an event that many of the ton had been in attendance. It was his plan to get the people of London talking about something other than Margaret’s scandal and he had hoped he had achieved that goal. “Are you sure you want me to join you?” Richard asked, already taking the seat opposite Lord Albarron. “You seem to have a lot on your mind and a fine drink in hand.” Richard gestured for the same drink and it was promptly delivered.  “The season is not over yet, is there anything or anyone else in London that you have your eye on?” Richard doubted that he was the last person he wanted to see but here he was and Richard would not let his departure from the club be a potential talking point.

“Pinche pendejo.” Tolly whispered to himself as he watched the man of the hour, one of them at least, stroll through the well appointed gentlemen’s club and regrettably approach his table. The worst part was that he was being dreadfully pleasant. If he had been smug, Tolly would have been able to hate him just a fraction more. 

“Please, Harcourt. Have a seat. Let me congratulate you on your engagement. I wish you both a long and contented match.” Tolly replied, sincere despite it all. Besides, it was Margaret who thought he was below consideration. Her opinion was the one that mattered. Richard just thought nothing of him at all, and he was right to do so. In the story of their courtship and engagement, Tolly would not rank as a mention and that was, after all, fair enough he supposed, melancholy despite it all. 

The Viscount merely shook his head at the query. For one there was no one else who had interested him in that manner and he certainly wasn’t prepared to share that information with Harcourt of all people. He didn’t need that additional layer of salt in the still open wound. Tolly wished he were a wittier man, capable of sliding an insult or cutting comment into polite sounding words, but that had never been his gift. Years of living outside the Ton had made him more inclined to plain speaking and sincerity. 

“I trust you had no trouble when speaking with her father? Will you marry in town or on the Estate?”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

.

“Are siblings ever anything else? Isabeau is still just as thoughtful and patience, Jacques as single-minded and snarky, and Margot is brash and violently hopeful.” Maybe it was the way Brooksbury said ‘are they still?’ that caused it, but Alexandre found himself hit by a sudden wave of pride in his family because yes, they were still. Still there, still fighting, still fiercely themselves no matter how many difficulties it caused. “We’ll have to have you over for dinner one evening.”

If things didn’t fare well with Brooksbury’s lady friend, he may need distractions like dinners and outings around town to keep himself occupied. “Oh, no, that’s more of Isabeau’s passion than mine. I prefer to visit Somerset, but I’m also terribly fond of Gunther’s, which my sister Margot teases me about even as she comes with me. Then Jacques frequents Hatchard’s, if he bothers to leave the house. And what of you? What secret entertainment do you have?”

“But they are still here. Still all well and with you?” Tolly confirmed and then his grin was enormous, brightening his face with sincere happiness. “This is good news indeed. Very good. I hope they continue to aggravate you for decades to come!” 

Laughing quietly, Tolly replied, “I am surprised then that I have not seen him there. For I frequent the place myself. Has he been to the Temple of the Muses yet? It is extraordinary. Not as prettily organized as Hatchard’s but with so many books! They boast a half million and I believe it. The prices are also quite reasonable.” Then he stopped, “As you can see I have my own fascination with the topic. But I would be pleased indeed to meet them all. At last put their faces to the names. I have not forgotten you see. Not in all the years since we last met, because you described them so vividly. i have thought of you all often enough.” He sighed to himself. “For now I must find a bride. It is my purpose this Season. We shall yet see if I have any success.”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

Brooks Gentleman’s Club | July 1800 | Open Starter

[Tolly could use some bros right now]

The one unmitigated downside to residing in the family home, for all its loveliness, was the inability to get completely intoxicated and not have to face familial censure or be scolded for being a bad influence for his young sister. There was some truth to this but Tolly was in no mood to be a good influence. If he had time to waste and were a decade younger, he would likely have hared himself off, return to the family estates or even back to New Spain to recover his temperament. Except as a man who had already passed his fourth decade, he had no such time to waste. He must carry on. 

The sting was deep however and he felt the rejection, for rejection it surely was, as though it were a physical wound. Was he in love with the Lady? Not yet, he knew that much, but he knew it would have taken very little encouragement before he would have been. He had liked her tremendously and was attracted to her presence.  

It was the disdain, the knowledge that once again, to English society at least, he was not enough, his title was not enough, and while he rejoiced, sincerely, for those who had found their match - Hastings, Halifax and yes, even Harcourt, he regretted pursuing, once again, a lady who had no real interest. He had misread once again. Played the part of ego balm and foolish old man and it was not a role his enjoyed. 

He tossed back the last of his drink and waved a congenial hand toward the barman, who obligingly filled his glass once again. If he had it his way, he would be throughly drunk by the morning light. 

“Hello there, good man, come to join me?”

[thexreluctantxviscount]

“This? Violence?” He barked out a short laugh. “Come now, Brooksbury – it is no more than-than the dashing of a-a vase to the ground in a tantrum, or-or the splashing of a-a glass of drink on a rival, both things that I-I assure you, our London ladies are more than capable of.”

Violence – his mirth faded as he looked again back at the viscount, shaking his head. “Wh-whatever scuffles or-or incidents you may have seen and tended during your-your time in the Americas – indeed, even where you stepped to my aid that one time – hardly violence, not when full-on war rages. No, no, no – I-I believe you had the right of it from the start. Our culprit is a-a woman, fixated upon things that are peculiarly the-the concerns of women –”

Stopped then, considering Brooksbury’s latest suggestion – nodding again in acknowledgment. 

“– Perhaps with the aid of-of a servant of some sort, your-your, hrm, collaborator – for I cannot imagine a woman running all these errands herself, as you say – she may well be distracted half-way through by a-a scrap of the latest lace if so – e-enemy? Of-of Whistledown?”

He blinked, frowning. “I-I am afraid I do not follow, sir; such actions can only heighten the-the attention paid to Whistledown – I-I wager the number of people purchasing that rag has only increased, now that they fear they too may be the next such victims. But the print shop –”

…R&H CAUSTON, he recalled, in his solicitor’s tight, crabbed handwriting, revealed to be Printers – 

Squared his shoulders instead. “I-If you have connexions in that regard, why – I would be most obliged; it is a-an excellent idea to be sure. Perhaps to have the-the most likely shops watched and-and patrolled as well?”

Tolly’s jaw clenched as Effingham patronized him once again. Then again, what did he expect from a man who thought his own wife, mother, sister, cousin, friends, were all idiots. Poor Miss St. John. She deserved better. Lady Effingham certainly did.

“So you do not believe this is not a commencement of escalated attacks? Because I don’t see how someone could toss out so much paint without marking themselves. So perhaps, perhaps this vandalizing individual was trying to set up the author so that the Ton turned on her. A bit of gossip was one thing, damaging one’s door was quite another. 

Also the marking of Halifax’s direction spoke of something more. Some element of a predator and prey. Women, even those that participated in the hunt (as did sometimes happen in New Spain, did not generally think of such predatory steps. It seemed rather masculine to Tolly, although he could no precisely say why he thought that way.

Still, while he did not agree with everything Effingham said, there was some ring of truth to the idea that some steps needed to be taken, sooner rather than later. “I think at least paying the clerks a charitable sum might earn us good information while overall costing us little, overall.”