High Tea with Lady Cavendish [4th, late afternoon]

[Decadence]

Bridget laughed behind her feather fan at Owen's teases of Alexander. "Lady Beth appreciates a comely face, but none has yet stirred her heart," she confided to him.

"But the ladies are stylish, are they not?" she then noted, hoping that Owen would prefer herself, even amongst a group of obviously eligible young ladies. It was not lost upon her that the assembly had a secondary motive of matchmaking. It was a common pastime of married ladies, of course.

~

John chuckled at Claire's reply. "Well, then how may I gauge the merit of the literary effort?" he quipped conspiratorially to her.

"I shall, if it will amuse you, dear lady" he then agreed.

[Guest]

"I would be entirely pleased to hear you read," Claire said to the handsome Captain. "But I cannot help but ask, why is it that you wear an ear-ring? I find it quite a statement!' If only there was a way, Claire mused, that she might share her fine taste with the rest of London. How amusing it would be if all men were to suddenly sport ear-rings! The thought was so delightful that she giggled to herself, emitting a sound much like the dropping of a metal pot.

"Are you acquainted with these ladies?" she whispered.

[Owen Langland]

As Bridget spoke quietly, Owen paid attention to the reading made by Alexander. It strained the ear a bit to hear the colonial tongue. Then again, most here would feel worse about a reading in Welsh. There would be an amusing turn! He smiled a bit wickedly and his eyes flashed wide, then glanced at Bridget, and he quickly decided that his momentary amusement might not lead to happiness with her.

And that led to other thoughts. When Alexander finished Owen rose to offer himself as next reader.

[Alexander Everhart]

Alex took the book and read, though his diction and pacing left something to be desired. He was better with coming up with stories off the cuff, or having learned from listening. Reading from a book, he decided, didn't give it flavor or flair.

Finally, with his good deed of the day done, he happily handed the book over to Owen and reclaimed his seat, glancing to his left and right to see if any lady looked repulsed.

[Guest]

Margery choked slightly on her tea as Lady Cavendish commented favourably on Everheart's appearance. It was a most unexpected remark. Recovering herself swiftly she was forced to agree that he was, indeed, a personable young man.

"I think you need have no fears regarding Lord Everheart's reading, my lady," she returned sotto voce. "I have spoken with the gentleman on several occasions and found his grasp of the language to be quite splendid - for a colonial."

Laughing to herself she settled back, taking another sip of tea. She did hope Alexander's diction stood up to scrutiny - her judgement was now at stake!

She found it not a bad performance though something unpolished. As he finished she gave him an encouraging smile.

[Owen Langland]

"Lady Cavendish, I am delighted to be included at your tea today. I offer apologies to all before I read this selection for I may trouble you with thought upon such work. Poetry rises from the heart and so my heart stands ready to listen to the words offered here in this gentle company. I learned of poetry at the Harper's Hall at my father's house. I read of it as well and, properly, in Welsh." He followed this with a grin as his eyes gazed upon Bridget. Would she suspect?

'The first line to make my heart beat faster was called "Advice to the young man before he sets out in search of love"'. When I had read the whole of it, I determined that the eager search to fulfill my youthful desire and the path I should follow were less alike than I had imagined. The poet, Master Prichard of the Established Church, admonished me to first learn to praise God in hard work and in respect for the King and authority. You might understand how this confused a young boy seeking love. Moderation was not an inclination at that time and much less a moral principle. However, I found that if poetry is clever and true, it stays with you and changes you."

Here Owen paused the briefest moment and held Bridget with his eyes. "I found poetry in Wales. I travelled the world to India and back and still found it waiting for me. I believe dearly that love waits in much the same place ... in my heart."

His heart beat once, twice, then he continued, "So let me share with you this poetry selected by our gracious hostess, let us see if it appeals to your heart and is clever and true."

He would go on with the written verse, breathing as the line dictated a pause, rolling the words with a Welsh baritone voice.

[Decadence]

Claire and John

'Bit of a conceit, is it not?' John replied to Claire's question. 'I served in Tangiers for a time, you see.' He grinned, as if this made it all quite clear. 'A bit exotic, but I quite like it.'

'May I hope that the statement is of a positive nature? Something like, "how gallant the gentleman looks!" perhaps?' he quipped.

'I must confess a woeful ignorance for which I cannot account. For I can claim an acquaintance with Lady Cavendish only. Although I believe that I have seen Mistress Margery at Court before now,' John replied in a similarly hushed tone. 'But then none are so captivating as my present companion,' he noted with a charming grin.

Bridget and Beth, listening to Owen's reading

How eloquent! Bridget thought, as Owen spoke. Then their eyes met and her heart paused, along with her breathing.

Beth might have rolled her eyes at her besotted friend, had they not been in company. Still, she considered it a good job, if it would see her dear friend well matched. If the gentleman could be brought to the point. That, of course, was not within her power to effect, but she grew more hopeful of that eventuality as Owen read.

[Fluff]

Unphased Lady Cavendish paid attention to the poems of Aphra Behn. The lady poet was sensible enough to make her poems stay just on the cutting edge of society, if not quite proper society. It was all so damn exciting the elder lady had a bit of a rosy colour on her cheeks. The content of the poems was, to say the least, a bit risky and sometimes to the good listener outright erotic, with a slight damning tone towards men. It was in her opinion a good way to challenge these young people and perhaps spark a little debate. If that is, they would understand.

A light smile played around the lady's lips as she raised her cup of tea to take a sip, only to then comment as she put it down on the saucer again "That was quite excellently done, Lord Everhart, Lord Brynfield. Brava! Everybody knows it takes courage to read Behn." She was after all, supported among other people by the Earl of Rochester. Ah yes, the Lady Cavendish was an art critic.

[Owen Langland]

Bawdy was not the right word to attach to Behn's work. His brother Rhys would have that word and several more to apply. Possibly accompanied with a switch if Owen's assay of the poems were correct.

He nodded to Lady Cavendish for her clever conceit regarding the readings made. Courage? Owen thought that Alexander and he could tell of more courageous acts than that. Well, perhaps not in mixed company.

"Bridget what do you make of these poems?" he asked politely. The attendees would remain seated unless the hostess released them from the discussion. Or the Dutch attacked.

[Fluff]

The afternoon went on pleasantly in debate of poetry, while meanwhile gents and ladies were cleverly observing each other and perhaps making their own plans. As the gathering winded to an end Lady Cavendish felt herself most pleased, but utterly fatigued and her throat sore from all the talking they did. "Really, it was delightful. We must do this again soon," she twittered as their guests took their leave one by one.


OOC: I apologize but I must ask you all to put in your final postings.

[Owen Langland]

Perhaps it was the suggestion that he might have to go through this all again that spurred him to it. Owen had every intention of finding opportunity, but it evaded his grasp continually. Today at the races he had almost gathered himself to the task, but the simple solution of sharing the prize was all too easy. Far too easy.

"Lady Elizabeth, would you please excuse Bridget and I for a moment. Maybe more?" he said quietly. He waited that moment and took Bridget aside, nearly to a corner of the room at least. He turned his back to those attending and at arms length made his request.

His face lit with a smile, his eyes glittered a bit, and he stood squarely facing her. Raising his arms with his palms upward he asked her.

"Dear Bridget, I think so much about you and I. I do that so greatly and so often. I wish to do that forever. Will you accept me? Say that you will marry me."

Did he fly or fall? She could hold him spellbound if she wanted. She could deny him...

[Decadence]

Bridget and Owen

Dark eyes held a puzzled look. Quietly she replied, "I confess!- oh I do hope that you are not disappointed in me, Owen! my lord, but I confess that I do not entirely understand them."

Then Owen asked to speak with her apart. Perhaps he was indeed disappointed? Or might he explain something that had escaped her?

"Accept? Oh! But yes! YES!" she breathed. Had Bridget not been so surprised, the last might have been an exclamation of some volume, but, as it was, the word was more of a gasp. Still, the young woman threw her arms about Owen's neck, thus drawing attention to them in any case.

Across the room, Lady Beth stifled a giggle.

[Fluff]

"There you see," Lady Cavendish said in quite some triumph to Margery "Such is always the case when one brings them together. I think they make a lovely couple."

Nodding brightly to Bridget she nudged Margery so that she might do the same "Yes, yes dear, quite so. Hurray." Oh, how she adored her little teaparties. "I hope her father shall thank me for it," she whispered to her confident.

[Alexander Everhart]

Alex watched in horror as Owen did the unthinkable and moved to gain a ball and chain. His expression didn't waver, though one brow did quirk. He barely managed not to shake his head. Another bites the dust, he thought. Really, young men shouldn't think about marriage.

He merely smiled as everyone looked around, acting as though he were happy for the couple. Once it became clear he could escape without insulting anyone, he made his farewells and fled.

[Owen Langland]

Owen and Bridget

Owen let Bridget hold him as long as she wanted. It was an impropriety, but he had noted that the windows were quite high up the wall and the fall very far for anyone who dared breach their happiness at this moment. As the moment passed its peak, he settled her back to the floor.

"Would you say that anyone noticed us?" he said with a long sigh. He could see by the look in her eye that there indeed was notice given. He had seen Lady Elizabeth and her exchange signals in that manner. He turned gracefully and offered her his arm. Together they moved to find Lady Elizabeth with more propriety.

Owen was again that beamish boy inside. Outside he was still that Welsh fool.

~fin?~

[Guest]

Hmm. It seemed Margery had been relegated to the status of honorary old person. It was not wholly a role she relished but her hostess was pleasant and the Cornish girl was content to oblige. "Propinquity is a marvellous thing," she agreed solemnly.

She nodded when prompted to - older women often had quite sharp elbows and she felt Lady Cavendish was no exception here - joining the polite chorus of congratulatory sounds.

"I'm sure he shall," she said warmly. For if this hoydenish display is typical of her behaviour, he'll be devoutly relieved to have won so well-bred a man as Brynfield for her. However, Margery acknowledged that her knowledge of the lady was slight and she was really in no position to judge.

A pleasant afternoon was whiled away to the chink of teacups and soft-voiced conversation.