Realistic or Modern 𝓘𝓷 𝓕𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓶 ~ 𝓐 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓸𝓷-𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 (𝓘𝓒)

[Bellz]

𝓘𝓷 𝓕𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓶
𝓐 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓸𝓷-𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂

Full Cast:
Pyroclast CapellaStargaze AnimeGenork neverbackdown Jesster SandraDeelightful
𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂
Chapter 1 - Rhapsody of Romance, Symphony of Scandal
Chapter 2 - Racing Hearts
Chapter 3 - to be revealed​

 

[Bellz]

The social season has commenced with an unexpected flourish, as the first ball is being hosted by none other than Queen Charlotte herself. This decision has left many within the Ton positively agog. One cannot help but speculate if Her Majesty’s uncharacteristic choice is a reaction to her recent track record of less-than-stellar "Diamonds."

As we gather under the opulent chandeliers, an array of first-season debutantes will undoubtedly seek their matches. However, the true spectacle lies in observing those young ladies who failed to secure husbands last season. For them, this ball is more than a mere social engagement; it is a battleground for redemption.

In the grand theatre of our beloved Ton, few families have endured as much scandalous scrutiny as the Davenports. With their reputation hanging by a thread, the upcoming ball presents a crucial opportunity for redemption. The eldest son, Henry Davenport, would do well to temper his well-documented penchant for flirtation and instead focus on securing a suitable match. His notoriety for dalliance has done little to endear him to the more discerning mothers of marriageable daughters.

Perhaps it is time for Henry to step out of the limelight and allow his more respectable brother, Morgan Davenport, to pursue love in earnest. Morgan’s relative discretion and charm might just restore a measure of respectability to the family name.

As for the youngest Davenport daughter, she bears the weight of her sister Celestine’s failure to secure a husband last season. This year, her mission is clear: to find a match and salvage her family’s standing within the Ton. The stakes could not be higher, for the Davenports’ future hangs in the balance. It is indeed a shame that such a beautiful family is marred by so much scandal. Yet, perhaps even the roughest of sand can, under enough heat and pressure, be transformed into a dazzling diamond.

As the first ball of the season unfolds, one cannot help but watch with bated breath. Will the Davenports rise to the occasion and reclaim their place in society, or will they continue to spiral into disrepute? Only time will tell, but rest assured, this author will be observing with keen interest.

No discussion of the season would be complete without mentioning the Bloomington family, and more specifically, the elusive Viscount. Ladies from every corner of the Ton will undoubtedly flock to his side, hoping to ensnare the most eligible bachelor. Yet, one cannot help but wonder why he continues to shun matrimonial prospects. Is there a dark secret lurking within the Bloomington family? Perhaps they are not as impeccable as they appeared under the Dowager Viscountess’s careful management. With two beautiful sisters to marry off, the Viscount would do well to engage in the matrimonial dance. Or perhaps, like some, he is biding his time, waiting for the right one to step into his life? If he shall not play in the game of society, are those sisters prepared to fend for themselves? Neither has made a remarkable impression either way on the Ton nor the Queen as of yet. But it is still early, I suppose.

This author has also noted the arrival of several mysterious newcomers to the Ton. Fresh faces with unblemished reputations, they are yet to be tested by our society’s keen scrutiny. To these sparkling new additions, I offer a word of caution: in our world, word travels faster than the swiftest carriage, and the truth is often sharper than the keenest blade. No secret can remain concealed for long—save, of course, for the identity of your ever-watchful author.

There is no sensation quite like the thrill of the first event of the season. The air is thick with anticipation, the ballrooms sparkle with renewed fervor, and every whisper carries the promise of new beginnings and, inevitably, new scandals. As we don our finest attire and prepare to waltz beneath the grand chandeliers, let us savor the enchantment of this moment.

Enjoy it, my dear readers, for the season has just begun, and with it comes the endless possibilities that only the Ton can provide.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

 

[Bellz]

Full Cast: Pyroclast CapellaStargaze AnimeGenork SavannahSmiles SandraDeelightful Jesster Melanin-Gxdess neverbackdown sprouhtt

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (watching from her throne)

Queen Charlotte​

As I stood at the top of the grand staircase, surveying the ballroom below, my heart quickened with anticipation. The first ball of the season was always a dazzling affair, but this year carried an extra charge, a sense of purpose that went beyond mere celebration. Tonight, I was determined to find the diamond of the season, the brightest jewel among the debutantes, and to put an end to Lady Whistledown's reign of gossip and mischief.

The ballroom glittered with the light of a thousand candles, casting a warm glow on the assembled guests. Ladies in gowns of every hue and gentlemen in their finest attire swirled and bowed, their movements a symphony of grace. Yet, despite the grandeur, my thoughts were focused and sharp, like a predator surveying its prey.

As I descended the staircase, each step measured and deliberate, the room fell into a respectful silence. My gown, a deep sapphire blue with silver embroidery, flowed around me like a river of night. The crown on my head was not just a symbol of my authority, but a reminder of the task at hand. Tonight, I would find the young woman who would captivate society's gaze, and I would uncover the identity of the elusive Lady Whistledown.

Taking my place at the head of the room, I signaled for the music to begin. The orchestra struck up a lively waltz, and the dancers resumed their intricate patterns. I watched them closely, my eyes scanning the room for the girl who would stand out among the rest. She would be poised, graceful, and possess a charm that could not be ignored.

I moved through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and listening carefully to the conversations around me. Whispers of Lady Whistledown's latest column floated through the air, a reminder of the power she wielded with her pen. She had mocked my court, sown discord among my subjects, and tarnished reputations with impunity. But tonight, I would begin to unravel her web of deceit. Tonight would be both the night of beginnings for those wishing to find their place within my society, and that wretched writer's ending.
with: No one but herself and her thoughts.

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Outlines of Dancefloor)

Lady Victoria Bloomington​

"Tilly, dear, let me fix your dress," Victoria said, fussing over her daughter’s silks. Tilly probably felt like this was the millionth time, but Victoria knew that even her youngest had to look perfect tonight. "Don’t give me that look, child. I am the one who gave you that look," she added, her stern expression softened by the kindness in her eyes. Turning to the staircase, she waved her arms in a rare display of impatience for the usually graceful woman. "You’d think all the clocks in this house were broken, given how tardy your siblings are."

"It is impolite for a Lady of the house to raise her voice, but I will do so if it gets you all to make haste!"Victoria said up the grand stair case that lead to the maze of bedrooms in the large home. "The carriage is here and I will not leave this house without you." One by one, slowly but surely, her children had made their way down the stairs and Victoria stopped them at the bottom on their away. Fixing this and that and then offering them compliments with the sweetest of smiles and a look only a mother could give, one of pure adoration despite the previous irritation.

Despite the delay, they arrived at the ball on time. Victoria allowed Augustus and Francis to escort Amelia and Sophy, respectively, while she took Matilda’s arm. "Try not to cause too much havoc tonight, yes, sweets?" she said to her youngest, giving her arm a gentle pat. As she walked with Tilly beside the rest of her children, Victoria remarked, "I don’t think I’ve seen the palace this decorated since I was about your age, Sophy." She looked at her daughter with a knowing expression, understanding how intimidating such an event could be.

"It's just another evening." Victoria tried to reassure her two eldest daughters, hoping to calm their nerves before glancing at Augustus and Francis. "But sometimes, life surprises us with special moments." She smiled warmly as they entered the grand ballroom. As usual at these events, Victoria guided them to the side of the dance floor.

"Francis, could you take your sisters to get drinks while I speak with the Viscount for a moment?" Victoria asked her second eldest son, giving him a look that made it clear there was no room for debate. If Tilly tried to leave with them, she held her back, shaking her head. "You can stay with us, dear," she said, watching her other children walk away. Once they were alone, Victoria continued, "Tonight is crucial for your sisters. After what that woman wrote in her column about our family, we need to protect their futures." She turned to August. "Charm the women tonight, even if it just gains us favor in society. It will make your sisters seem more desirable. And you—" she said, looking at Tilly again, "please don't give Lady Whistledown any more gossip. I'm allowing you at these balls before your debut, but I can take that privilege away just as quickly."

When Francis, Sophy and Amelia returned, Victoria was all smiles again. "Excellent! Augustus! Take your sisters around the room. Francis, we'll mind Tilly." She beamed.
WITH VICTORIA: Francis CapellaStargaze ; Tilly AnimeGenork
WITH AUGUSTUS Pyroclast : Amelia neverbackdown ; Sophy SandraDeelightful

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Refreshments Area)

Lady Celestine Davenport​

The Davenport abode was abuzz with activity, a scene Celestine hadn't witnessed since her younger sister's debut and one she dreaded entirely. The servants scurried about feverishly, while her mother's voice reached a shrill pitch as she called for her daughters. Suppressing any sharp retorts in her anxious state, brought on by the sudden burst of life in their normally quiet home, Celestine winced as her maid tightened her corset strings. It never grew easier, nor better. Day after day, night after night, she wished the Season would simply never arrive, that this dreaded day would linger away as it had throughout winter.

While she detested the snow and the cold, reminders of her past illness, they provided a peculiar comfort, warding off potential social engagements and unsavory suitors. Much like her youth, Celestine had mastered the art of tuning out the chaos at home, until they found themselves in the carriage en route to Kew, an unbelievable notion given their tainted reputation.

Her father, a debauched combination of a drunkard, rake, and gambler, was a sight to behold. How her mother had fallen into such a loveless abyss remained a mystery to Celestine. Observing her parents from across the carriage, their mutual disdain palpable, Celestine resolved to seek genuine love, not merely a marriage of convenience and social standing.

Closing her eyes briefly, she attracted her mother's attention, prompting the entire carriage to direct their gaze her way. Despite the nausea stirred by resurfacing memories, Celestine exhaled softly, not entertaining any of them with a response.

As they arrived at Kew, Celestine exchanged a glance with her brother Morgan. "Shall you accompany me this evening, Morgan, risking your reputation with a lady in her second season?" she quipped, stepping out of the carriage with his assistance.

With a pat on his arm, she added, "Hopefully, I don't mar your prospects as I might have done to our sister's chances before the Season even commenced." Surveying the palace adorned in vibrant flowers, Celestine remarked, "The Queen has truly outdone herself. Whistledown must have rattled some cages."

As they stepped into the palace, Celestine found herself instinctively retreating to her brother's side as they entered the ballroom. She longed to vanish under the weight of the stares directed their way. The intensity of those gazes felt suffocating, as if they could extinguish her very breath. "Perhaps this was a mistake..." she murmured, her voice barely audible, just as they approached the refreshments table. "I can say I was feeling unwell and had to leave early?"
with: Morgan CapellaStargaze , Ichabod Jesster , Elodie SavannahSmiles
mentions: Caterina, Solomon Pyroclast , Henry AnimeGenork

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Queen's Maze)

Lady Helena Bexley​

"Austria isn’t as different from England as one might think. Though I wouldn’t have traded the view of the Eastern Alps for anything in our little world," Helena remarked, her smile radiant in the chandelier light as she addressed a group of familiar and unfamiliar Lords and Ladies. "So why did you return?" one person inquired, drawing her full attention. The question, a frequent yet unwelcome one since her return, struck a nerve. However, Helena responded with the grace befitting her status. Smiling sweetly at the man, she replied, "Oh, I simply couldn’t miss the latest Whistledown paper. A true page-turner, isn’t that right, ladies?" Her remark effectively shifted the conversation to the gossip column, a topic she cared little about but knew would divert attention.

Helena was not one for gossip and typically refrained from such trivialities, but she felt cornered by the question. If indulging in this would keep the Ton at bay and away from her private affairs, then so be it. She excused herself with a gentle nod, turning on her heels and moving purposefully in an unknown direction. Helena maintained her composure, chin raised and shoulders back. Having arrived in London only a few days prior, she was already thrust into the swirl of the first ball of the season. The invitation, addressed to her at her grandparents' home, signaled that the Queen was aware of her presence in the city.

No visits had been arranged yet, and Helena intended to keep it that way. She hadn't even planned to meet with Augustus. Three summers had passed without seeing her dear friend, though they had kept up with letters as often as possible. After her parents' passing, she had stopped writing for a while, lacking the energy to even move, let alone write. As she slowly made her way around the outskirts of the dancefloor, Helena's eyes followed the dancers. It had been ages since she had danced, since she had felt she could be swept away in a gentleman's arms without feeling guilty for enjoying the music or smiling. Brief thoughts of nights in Austria drifted through her mind before she swiftly tucked the memories away, into the box she had created last year.

Helena couldn't afford to fall apart in a room full of people; nothing was worse than a hysterical woman to a man seeking a wife. But was she even looking for a husband? Her thoughts foolishly wandered back to Augustus. Though she usually avoided gossip, Lady Whistledown's papers had come up during her first morning with her grandparents at breakfast. It had taken all her restraint not to snatch the pamphlet from her grandmother's hands.

No discussion of the season would be complete without mentioning the Bloomington family, and more specifically, the elusive Viscount. Ladies from every corner of the Ton will undoubtedly flock to his side, hoping to ensnare the most eligible bachelor. As one of August’s closest friends, Helena found the notion of him being the most eligible bachelor laughable. Her unladylike snort had certainly displeased her grandmother. Yet, perhaps things had changed in the three years of her absence. Sure, he was a Viscount—a title he had held since they met. But was that the only thing that made him eligible in society's eyes? Moody to many, darling to few—herself included—August Bloomington was the most eligible bachelor for reasons far beyond his title.

…the Viscount would do well to engage in the matrimonial dance. Or perhaps, like some, he is biding his time, waiting for the right one to step into his life?

Helena sometimes wondered selfishly if she and August might have been right for each other under different circumstances. He had no intention of leaving his position, his family, or his duties, which he believed were his responsibility from the beginning. Helena had felt the same about herself until last summer when she was left without any family.

London, though familiar in brief encounters, felt increasingly alien the longer she stayed. The English were cold and serious, unlike her or her parents, who had been practical yet lively. The politics and society baffled her. Yet, despite her confusion, she was still expected to show her face. The Ton were utterly captivated by the enchanting foreign woman, who graced their presence only on occasion.

Her attention was diverted by a crowd of women, all fixated on someone. Hesitating, Helena bit her bottom lip, uncertain if she wanted a closer look. Trusting her instincts, she turned toward the outside doors, the warm night air greeting her as she hurried out. Ignoring the curious glances in her direction, Helena headed to the outskirts of the garden, slipping further into the Queen’s Maze to find some privacy.

A joyful reunion. Wasn't that what she desired? To see her friend, to ensure his well-being? Given all he had endured, he didn't need another complication from whatever turmoil she might have brought from Austria. Shaking her head, she glanced at a statue depicting a man and a woman locked in a tender embrace, contemplating it for a moment before downing her drink and tossing the glass aside. "A mess, indeed," she muttered, her carefully arranged curls now beginning to cascade around her face.
mentions: The Viscount Pyroclast

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Main Gardens)

Duchess Scarlet Jameson​

"Aria, Mariana, enough fidgeting. You'll crease the fabric," Scarlet's voice cut through the air, though her expression softened as she glanced at her fraternal twin sisters. She silently thanked whatever forces allowed them to be different; otherwise, she'd never keep them straight. Now playing the roles of both mother and father, along with being their elder sister, she couldn't afford any more confusion.

Mariana wrinkled her nose in disdain, "This fabric is unbearable, sister!" she muttered as the carriage halted abruptly. Scarlet's gaze shifted to the familiar outline of Kew Palace outside the window, memories flooding her mind. Aria and Mariana's squabble became a distant buzz as she was consumed by the past, feeling both distant and achingly close.

"Your Grace?" A male voice interrupted her reverie, jolting her back to the present moment, her breath escaping in a rush. Caught in her own thoughts again, she realized her sisters had already exited the carriage with the help of the footmen, leaving her the last to be assisted. "Are you feeling unwell?" he inquired politely, his tone tinged with concern. Scarlet blinked in response, searching for the right word to encapsulate her current state, which had lingered for the past week. "Unwell" seemed inadequate. Blinking again, she summoned a serene smile, instantly reassuring the footman. "I am quite well, thank you. It's just been a while since I last set foot in this place," she reminisced, and the footman nodded understandingly. Taking his offered hand, she gracefully alighted from the carriage, descending the steps with practiced poise.

As she stood firmly on the ground, she gently released his hand. "Welcome back to London, Your Grace," he greeted, to which she inclined her head in appreciation. Ahead, her sisters had already moved several steps ahead, engrossed in their conversation, while she trailed behind, lost in her thoughts. It was her sisters' debut season in London, yet she felt no urge to rush them into matrimonial pursuits or to fret over their societal matches. All she desired was their happiness. Occasionally, she insisted they wear dresses made of the irksome fabric, but only because of their status as esteemed members of the Ton in the Queen's presence. After tonight, however, her sisters would be free to dress and behave as they pleased.

Scarlet had always relished a lively soirée, yet tonight, an unusual weariness clung to her before they even stepped through the doors. Perhaps it was the morning visit to her father weighing on her mind. Her sisters, on the other hand, bubbled with excitement, their enthusiasm palpable as they giggled at every passing gentleman before disappearing into the throng. Though she felt the urge to keep a watchful eye on them, Scarlet knew they were under the vigilant gaze of the guards trailing them. With that assurance, she opted for a brief respite, pouring herself a modest drink from the refreshment table before slipping out into the garden.

It was sheer determination to evade matchmaking schemes that prompted her swift departure. Barely had she turned away from the refreshments table when eager matchmaking mothers, intent on securing advantageous matches for their sons, descended upon her like a flock of hungry birds. "Your Grace, Your Grace, allow me to introduce my son—" echoed in her ears at least a dozen times within the first half-hour of her arrival. She endured the introductions with grace, meeting sons of varying appeal: some strikingly handsome and robust, others shrewd businessmen and innovators, and a few whose advantageous position was all too evident. In just thirty minutes, she was introduced to a staggering fifteen men and their eager mothers. Scarlet played her part with wit, charm, and sweetness, but as soon as she excused herself for a breath of fresh air, the smile vanished from her face as she waded through the crowd. Fortunately, no one dared to impede her path.

Outside, the moon bathed the meticulously tended palace gardens in an ethereal blue glow, yet few had ventured to enjoy the nocturnal tranquility. At that moment, Scarlet found herself among the solitary few. Gazing at the fountain, its waters dancing in the moonlight, she savored a sip of her non-alcoholic beverage, relishing both its cool refreshment and the rare tranquility enveloping her...
nearby: Henry (shoves) AnimeGenork

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Dancefloor)

Ian Amesbury​

He was meant to be a mere shadow at this gathering, trailing behind the Jameson sisters as they eagerly pursued whoever caught their interest. Such was the directive from the Duchess. Aria and Mariana resembled excited children in a candy store at these events, darting from one spot to another so swiftly that it left Ian feeling dizzy.

"You are not to let them out of your sight." Scarlet had instructed earlier that day, her brown eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Ian. He responded with a playful smirk, "Why, Duchess, you insult me by suggesting I would do otherwise." The redhead only rolled her eyes, You insult yourself, rake" she teased. Ian had laughed heartily before the Duchess departed to attend to her other duties.

And now, here he was. Instead of keeping an eye on the twins as instructed, he found himself conversing with women bold enough to join what appeared to be an innocent chat. He could feel the piercing glares of their mothers, practically burning holes in the back of his head. Throughout his acquaintance with the Jameson family, he had been obligated to attend such events. And for as long as he had, he was a frequent subject of both admiration and scandal within the Ton. He neither belonged to their world nor desired to. Their myriad rules and lack of true freedom held no appeal for him. Wealth and status were abundant, but what use were they if one couldn’t enjoy true freedom? His reputation preceded him; many knew what brought him happiness both in and out of bed. Outside the bedroom, it was often a pint. Inside? Most assumed it was a woman or two warming his sheets. But even Ian had his secrets.

One conversation had led to another, and before he knew it, Ian had found himself asking a pretty young lady to dance. Though he wasn't part of the Ton, Scarlet had graciously taught him a few of their customs, including dancing. However, the woman talked so much that he soon regretted his decision. When the song ended, he bid her farewell and retreated to the outskirts of the dance floor, meeting the eyes of those who boldly stared in his direction with a slow, deliberate gaze. Somewhere along the way, he had lost track of the Jameson sisters. Perhaps he should have taken Scarlet's words a bit more seriously.

Craning his neck from the edge of the dance floor, Ian, standing at 6’5", scanned the crowd but couldn't spot the Jameson sisters anywhere. "I certainly am in trouble," he muttered under his breath just as the music started up again.
With: HE'S AVAILABLE FOR INTERACTION LADIES AND GENTLEMEN sprouhtt Melanin-Gxdess

 

[CapellaStargaze]

Caterina Davenport

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  AnimeGenork SavannahSmiles Pyroclast Jesster Bellz
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Caterina buzzed around the Davenport Estate with a purpose. The first ball of the season was among them and having two daughters out was a chore in itself, not to mention she had also convinced Morgan, her second eldest son to find a wife this season. One by one, most of her children came down the stairs, finally ready to leave the estate. Henry, her eldest, was not present but it was to be expected. She just hoped he would at least grace the ball with his presence.

“If we are late for the first ball of the season, it will not make a good impression,” Caterina chided as they all piled into their respective carriages. Once at Kew Palace, Caterina stepped out of the carriage, grabbing her husband’s arm now that they were in public. “Before you go in, need I remind you to not do anything that will land you in that frivolous gossip column? I expect every single one of you to be on your best behavior. Morgan, your sisters are your responsibility this evening. I hope you’re up for the challenge.”

Caterina turned to walk into the ball, making polite pleasantries as she made her way outside. The weather was mild enough to enjoy the outside air and she knew if she stayed inside too long, she would hover over her children. If it weren’t for her husband and the life that they currently lead, Caterina would’ve been happy to let her children have all the time in the world to find someone they deemed fit to spend their life with. However, they didn’t have that luxury. She just hoped this would be the season she could stop worrying about her children or at least stop worrying a little.

Caterina pushed herself from her thoughts and moved to the outdoor refreshments, grabbing herself a drink. She just needed this night to be a success and hopefully start the season off right. She just hoped that her children would stay out of any scandals though that was wishful thinking for one of them.

snow on the beach

VSQ

Morgan Davenport

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  Bellz AnimeGenork SavannahSmiles Jesster
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Morgan fiddled with his dress shirt for the fiftieth time while he looked in the mirror. Why did he think he could actually do this? He never should have promised his mother he would find a wife. He already agreed to escort his sisters this season instead of Henry whose job it should’ve been. Mother and father didn’t seem to trust him with that task after Celestine failed to marry last season. He just thought everyone was just making too big a fuss out of it. It just seemed that this season his parents were writing Henry off and dumping the responsibility onto Morgan and while he loathed it, Morgan didn’t want to disappoint either. That’s why he reluctantly agreed to find a wife. A wife he could never truly love due to his choice in romantic partners. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and let out a deep sigh. Time to put on the face he puts on for society and leave his baggage in the comfort of his room.

The carriage ride to the ball was an uneventful one. Morgan was reminded of his duties for the season and how important it was. When they made it to Kew Palace, his mother once again reiterated how important tonight was. Not like he would forget from the last time he was told five minutes ago. He offered his arm out to Celestine, helping her out of the carriage. He sighed at her words. “Don’t be ashamed of this being your second season, Celestine. Our mother didn’t marry until her second season and while I’m still getting used to the idea, I am honored to be escorting my sisters.”

Morgan moved with them inside, the gaze shifting their way. Lady Whistledown did not take it easy on their family regarding the gossip but of course, Henry didn’t help it with his shenanigans either. Morgan wasn’t entirely innocent though. Even he had a reputation as a rake and while there was some truth to that, the rumor of him being a womanizer was very false.

He walked with his sisters to the refreshment table and grabbed a lemonade, taking a sip to calm his nerves. He looked to Celestine. “You will be fine. I will stay close by the entire evening and if anything, you can help ward off the eager ladies and their mama’s,” he joked, hoping he wouldn’t have too much to worry about but he also knew his mother would be disappointed if he didn’t try.

Bad Guy

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡

Francis Bloomington

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  AnimeGenork Bellz Pyroclast SandraDeelightful neverbackdown
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Francis stood at the bottom of the staircase of his family home, waiting on his sisters. He was used to this by now. It was a regular occurrence that he stood waiting with his mother. She was currently making a fuss over Tilly, Francis’ youngest sister. He was surprised his mother was allowing her to go considering how mischievous she could be but it might as well be a full Bloomington family affair. Fancis wouldn’t trade any of his family for the world and call it sappy but he enjoyed things like this when his family was involved. Now, his two sisters were out in society and while that was a big step, it didn’t stop his mother from dropping hints to him and August about finding love as well. He wasn’t against the idea, he just wanted it to be the right person that he could have an earth shattering love with like his parents did. It wasn’t his fault his parents set the bar so high. Even with his father gone, his mother still claims he is the love of her life.

Once everyone finally came down the stairs, the Bloomington family piled into the carriages and headed for Kew Palace. When they got there, Francis offered his arm to Sophy as she climbed out the carriage, escorting her inside along with the rest of his family in tow. Once they were inside, his mother ushered him away to get a drink for his sisters, wanting to speak with his brother. So, off to the refreshment table he went.

“Wonder how many times mother is going to tell Gus that he needs to find a wife,” he joked before he was waved back to the group with his mother. He watched as August, Sophy, and Amelia parted from their group and he was left with his mother to mind, Tilly. She definitely wouldn’t be a lack of entertainment, she never was.

“Guess you get to socialize with me tonight, Tills.”

girls like you

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Pyroclast]

10th of April, 1815
~ The Bloomington Residence ~

Lord Augustus Bloomington
​

“Do you find it to your liking, my lord?”

Augustus stood before the mirror in his dressing room, eyeing his reflection. He had recently purchased a new cobalt blue dress coat for the royal ball that Queen Charlotte was throwing to commence the new season. Normally, he enjoyed a ball; it was a grand occasion where all his family and friends could gather in one place, all dressed to the nines, to catch up and dance and be merry. If only they didn’t come with the expectation of finding a match, he would surely enjoy them more. At the turn of every season, the guilt he felt towards his mother for not coupling up with someone only grew. He knew it was all she wanted for him, but he had failed every year to find her. It wasn’t that he hadn’t courted young women before, but eventually it would come to light that she didn’t care for him as a person and was solely after the wealth and status that marrying him would bring her. He just couldn’t bring himself to marry for anything less than love - the very kind his mother and father had found together.

He turned to examine his side profile, looking himself up and down in the mirror. The hem of the coat sat perfectly on his waist, the silver stitching glittering by the candlelight. “Yes, I should think this will do,” he finally answered his valet. “Thank you, Hughes.”

Mr Hughes smiled at him with a fondness that a doting parent might show their child. He had been Augustus’ valet since the day Lord Bloomington passed away, making Augustus the man of the house at the young age of 13. “Might this be the year?” Mr Hughes gently probed.

Augustus gave a pointed sigh. “Don’t you start,” he said. “Besides, this season is not about me. I have my sisters to think about. I am to make sure they make a fine impression on society.”

“Debuting already,” Mr Hughes said with a melancholic chuckle. “You are all growing faster than I can fathom, my lord.”

The two men glanced towards the door when they heard his mother calling everyone downstairs. After taking one last moment to adjust his cuffs and collar, August turned to make his exit. “I shall see you later, Mr Hughes. And I expect no questions on my return about whatever may transpire tonight!”

~ Grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace ~​

It was a full carriage with all six of them packed inside, and the air was thick with anticipation. It was evident that his sisters - particularly Amelia and Sophy - were carrying some anxiety with them to the ball, which, given it was their first season out, Augustus could easily understand. He had some anxiety about it, too - after all, as their escort, he was responsible for ensuring they caught the attention of only the finest and most trustworthy of the eligible bachelors.

Whenever conversation lulled, August found himself thinking of Helena Bexley. They had long since been friends and even had courted years ago…but her duties to her home in Austria and his to his home in England had prevented them from pursuing their relationship further. With an estate to run and his siblings to take care of, he felt he was not in a position to leave, and similarly, Helena was drawn back to Austria. It had been three long years since he last had seen her and despite their steady exchange of letters, Augustus had resigned himself to the idea that he may never see her face again. Some day, so he wanted to believe, he would find such a connection with another woman and finally fulfill his mother’s wishes. Tonight, however, he was to focus on helping his sisters.

Once the carriage was drawn up to the palace grounds, Augustus followed his mother, sisters and brother outside and took Amelia by the arm. “Don’t be nervous, sister,” he reminded her as he walked her through the grand entrance of the palace. “I shall be at hand all evening, should you need me.”

Their mother turned to them once they had all reached the edge of the dancefloor, and sent Francis, Amelia and Sophy to the refreshments. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to say to him before she had even opened her mouth, and he barely managed to contain a sigh. However, she didn’t harass him about trying to find his match after all, only to ask that he behaves with his sisters' futures in mind. “You needn’t worry yourself, mama,” he assured her with a smile. “I shall behave with all the poise and posture that a Viscount should. And I shall be charming towards the ladies, as long as you understand that my priority tonight lies in ensuring my sisters have an enjoyable and successful evening.” He turned to Matilda then, and stuck his tongue out at her. “And you may not be out yet, Tilly, but be thinking of your future before you go stuffing your face at the refreshments table or batting your eyelashes at the first man who looks your way. I dare say some of them are just as silly as you…which would be a feat.” He gave her a subtle, teasing prod in her side, before they were suddenly rejoined by their three siblings.

To Amelia and Sophy, Augustus smiled and held out his arms for them each to take. “Shall we take a turn?” he offered. “This is possibly already on your minds, but remember the Queen is due to select this season’s diamond. You two should undoubtedly catch her eye, so be mindful to not waste your chances.”

Once they were fully out of earshot of their mother, August stopped and drew back to face his sisters. “Listen, I don’t want to be bossing you around tonight. I trust you to behave with all the grace you already possess. It’s just that, well, since…” He almost mentioned their father then, but caught his tongue before it could slip out. With a sharp inhale, he instead sent them a smile. “I want you to dance and have fun. I want you to explore this world of possibility that you are just now stepping into, without being confined to the watchful eyes of me and my mother. So, I shall let you go. When a man asks you to dance, remember you may politely decline and come to find me instead - but if he is kind, I would encourage you to accept, if only to know how it feels.” He stepped back to admire their appearances that they had each put so much effort into, and sent them a reassuring smile. “Are you ready?”

Interactions
neverbackdown Amelia
SandraDeelightful Sophy
Bellz Mama
AnimeGenork Matilda
CapellaStargaze Francis

 

[AnimeGenork]

• Henry
• Matilda

• 
  
  Henry Davenport

  
  Henry Davenport was living up to his true potential of being a disappointment this fine evening. He couldn’t remember the name of the woman whose bed he was currently haunting, but he was certainly having an enjoyable time. It was so enjoyable, he’d completely lost track of time, and the sun had already set. Unfortunately, he supposed he had to make an appearance at the ball in support of his sisters, not that anyone truly cared whether or not he was there. As the Davenport disappointment, it was expected that they not expect anything of him. Were he truly honest with himself, he would admit how hurtful it was whenever he faced the scorn or sighs of his family.
  
  That was probably why he wasn’t ever honest with himself.
  
  So he bid farewell to his latest paramour, nearly driven to distraction by her honeyed lips and the way her hands gently ran through his hair. But no, he had to be responsible this evening. At least somewhat. He rolled away from the warmth of the bed and onto the floor, slowly but surely pulling on each article of clothing and righting himself. It wouldn’t do to be too obvious about where he had been. “Perhaps I’ll call on you again, darling, but for now, I must be off.” Though she pouted, she did chuckle at the wink he sent her way, and he whistled a jaunty tune as he left the small abode.
  
  The carriage ride was uneventful as he righted his collar and jacket into a more presentable fashion. Not that he was expected to escort either of his sisters this evening; that honor was going to Morgan. It had been determined that after Celestine did not wed last season that Henry himself was unfit for the job, although the latest Whistledown column certainly didn’t help. Henry was quite proud to be such a feature, though, and he had already added it to the collection on his desk. Although he was frankly upset at how his sister had been featured as well, as that meant more attention would be directed at her, and not for the right reasons. He was supposed to be diverting attention. Davenport shame was his burden to bear.
  
  It was for the best that he wasn’t escorting Celestine, at least this way his reputation wouldn’t be overshadowing how any man would be lucky to have her as his wife. The fault did not lie with her that she was so unlucky to have a brother like him. His only redeeming quality had been his frequently sitting with her during her illness. Not that anyone remembered that. A rake was a rake was a rake, and, well, hadn’t that been what he’d wanted? With a wry smile, he wondered if he should cut his losses and leave London now, start a new life elsewhere where he wasn’t forced into a box of his own making. But no, he had siblings to look after, even if they were unaware that he was doing so. Someone had to protect them from their father.
  
  Henry’s neck cracked as he tilted his head to the left, but it helped him focus as he arrived at Kew Palace. The festivities had apparently begun already, so at least he would be able to slip in undetected. Though surely everyone had noticed he hadn’t arrived with his family. Ah, well. Henry made his way up the stairs, painting on the usual smirk he wore to these functions. He managed to slip into the ballroom behind a few others, casting his gaze over to a gathering of his siblings. A small part of him wanted to join them, tell Celestine that she was the belle of the ball tonight, but he knew he would not be received kindly.
  
  Rather than embarrassing himself amongst his family, Henry decided to try his hand at embarrassing himself outside. His hand darted out and grabbed a drink from one of the passing trays as he made his way to the gardens, his eye catching the retreating form of a lady also making her way there. How fortuitous. Out of some withering sense of decorum, he kept his distance, as it was only right. He took a sip of his drink, his tongue brushing along his lips to catch the last traces of the alcohol buzzing through his veins. Of the vices he’d inherited from his father, this one was his least favorite… such a shame that it was a source of grand taste.
  
  “Lovely evening tonight, is it not?” he said casually, not directing it to anyone in particular, save for the fact that they were the only two out here. “Almost enough to forget the disastrous scene of mamas and children vying for each other’s attention.” He dared himself a glance in her direction, letting his smirk grow into a kinder, but lazier, grin. “Forgive my intrusion, my lady. I simply had to comment on the beauty of the evening. And I am not just referring to the gardens.”
  
  Another sip of his drink, his eyes looking out over the palace gardens once more. Let his personal game begin.
  
  
  

  Mentions: Morgan, Celestine, Solomon | Interactions: Scarlet | Tags: CapellaStargaze Bellz Pyroclast​

  
  
  

  coded by: @s e v e n​

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• 
  
  Matilda Bloomington

  
  Matilda was always one for impatience, but tonight was especially vexing. Although she was not yet to be out in society (and so unfair, other girls were allowed to come out at seven and ten!), her mother had been gracious enough to let her attend the ball with them. The hemline of her dress would unfortunately give away that she was not to be sought after, as would the constant vigilance of her family, but at least she could pretend, if briefly, that she would finally be able to enjoy the games of society and decorum.
  
  “Mama, I look perfect,” she pointed out, though she did not bother stop her mother from fussing with her dress for the umpteenth time. She did, however, give her a weary look, earning a slight reprimand in return. As to be expected. While she adored her mother and always would, she did wish that at seventeen she would be treated as a girl on the cusp of adulthood as she truly was. “Were you to finally let me out in society, Mama, I would never be late for such events. I would even be ready hours in advance!” She lifted her eyebrows and glanced at her brother Francis, hoping that he would chime in, but he was focused on waiting on the rest of their family.
  
  Eventually, the rest of the family joined them, and they were finally able to begin their carriage ride to the palace. Matilda peered out the window for the entirety of the ride. She was even bouncing a little in her seat as she spotted the lights of Kew Palace and the line of arriving carriages. Ah, the glamor of a ball, and she was finally able to witness it!
  
  The door could not open sooner, and as her mother took her arm, Matilda gave her an affectionate pout. “How could I ever cause such havoc when I’ll be by your side all evening?” She was wide-eyed in awe and astonishment as she gazed around, tuning out the advice her mother gave her elder sisters, as it would not apply to herself this evening. The decorations were marvelous, and was that the queen herself? Matilda cast her eyes down demurely, not wanting to offend the dear queen at her own ball. Yet the smile lifting the corners of her lips could not be contained. She was here! At the ball!
  
  At the edge of the dance floor, Victoria directed Francis to get drinks with Amelia and Sophy. Matilda saw her chance and tried to slip away, but her mother’s hold on her tightened. Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, Matilda let out a huff and stayed while she and Augustus talked. “Gusty, charming? Unlikely,” she muttered in a teasing, singsong tone. It made her shudder to think of watching all of her siblings flirt and marry while she was stuck at home, sitting in the drawing room and witnessing it all. So unfair.
  
  Matilda stuck out her tongue—briefly—in return to her eldest brother’s teasing. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, dear brother. I am ladylike in every aspect. It is not my fault if I catch anyone’s eye.” Turning up her nose, she fluffed the curls of blonde hair not held within her updo, giving Augustus a slight glare.
  
  One brother was traded for another. Matilda watched her sisters forlornly as they once again departed to go take their place in the festivities. “I am far less likely to cause gossip than any Davenport, Mama, and I certainly do not need minding. At seven and ten years old, you would think I would be spared the admonishments of a child!”
  
  Turning her gaze up to her brother, Matilda tried not to look too angry. “It is not quite socializing if it is with one’s own family, is it?” She sighed and tried to school her features into a look of mild annoyance rather than full-blown anger. “And while we’re at the ball, please call me Matilda. I don’t want every man in the room to think I’m far too young to even consider just yet. They only have to wait one more year, after all.”
  
  This would be the longest year of her life, for sure. How soon would she be able to separate the wheat from the chaff in this ballroom?
  
  
  

  Mentions: Amelia, Sophy | Interactions: Victoria, Augustus, Francis | Tags: neverbackdown SandraDeelightful Bellz Pyroclast CapellaStargaze​

  
  
  

  coded by: @s e v e n​

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[Jesster]

ichabod

c'est la vie

DANCING ON MY OWN

location

refreshments

outfit

click me

interactions

morgan, celestine

tags

CapellaStargaze , Bellz

Gossip is society's dominion of injustice borne from cruelty and boredom.

It is a way of spinning tales laced with truth that opened sutures, wounds that did not need to be opened now leaking crimson across the dancefloor. Keepsakes that should have remained buried feet beneath the topsoil. It can be buried once more, veiled and forgotten but the Davenport name was far from being erased from scrutiny. Anger is a flame, and its embers can lick the boots of those around the holder. It stays unearthed and untended too until it is snuffed and all that remains is bottled regrets.

In preparation for the night to come, moonlight spinning cuffs around the Davenport boys, Ichabod had spent most of his day lost in nearby foliage, paint sticking to fingertips, clinging to clothing that looked as though it could belong to the poor. Leaf in hair, and index finger lifted spoke soft whispers of just a moment. It was far too quick, the change of his clothes and bare mounts of liner contouring stygian cesspools that he came down the stairs, only looking prepared for the kicking event for the season.

Inside was a whirlpool of worries and it is with silent contemplation that he hops into the carriage, picking dry paint from fingernails. It is moments impulse that he follows Morgan and Celestine deciding he would go mad if he tried to fly from nest, plucking a glass from the refreshments table sipping its contents rather quickly. It had been quite some time since forced into the social scene and now family scandal weighs on shoulders.

“Speaking of mama’s and their daughters, I hear there is a Duchess in town,”

he says to Morgan, a sliver of hesitance lacing his voice for he knows that Duchesses do not hold the same interest as Duke’s might in this situation. But an offer nonetheless, for a man now thrown into a pack of wolves.

Flashes back to France plague the mind, touches under shirts and glances from teacher that should not be exchanged in Paris’s top art school, but there was light in the darkness aside from passion of paints that expressed suppressed rage and it was with relief and overwhelming happiness that Morgan was there as well. At the time, it was easy to bypass his..male friend, but now that he is thrown with heir to his name, and marriage a looming need it was harder to ignore.

Another sip from his glass, and he looks to Celestine.

“If Morgan fails to fend off pruning gazes of the displeasing Ton, I will be glad to accompany you back home,"

A half smile graces his lips before he sets the empty glass down now buttoning and unbuttoning the cuff of his sleeve as he spared a glance around, particularly for Henry who was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't so much of a question on if, but when the Davenports were going to provide new material for Lady Whistledown and he could only pray it did not come from his eldest brother, unsure how much scandal they could take before being expidited from society all together.

 

[sprouhtt]

Evelyn Forbes.

The clock mocked her as she rushed to get out of the estate on time. Her wild red curls danced like the flames that held captive in the lantern that hung outside so beautifully. Her maid, Anna, had assisted her in getting these big bouncy curls, and she almost threw all of Anna's hard work into the trash if she did not slow down. Her aunt had left already since Evelyn knew how important it was for her aunt to uphold her status and perfect attendance. As for Evelyn, she was not quite up to her aunts level and she knew she the carriage would only be a few minutes behind her aunts. Though it was uncommon for a young lady such as herself to not be accompanied by a family member.

Evelyn tried to put her anxious nerves to rest by amusing herself with the red fabric and embroidery of her dress. Anyone who saw her with the gown, would think she wielded the magical elements of fire from those make-believe stories she would read down by the lake. The gown was sculpted to embrace her curves and it was lavished with gemstones that would make any jeweler envious. The neckline was a bit more plunging then other dresses out there, yet it was done tastefully, with light lace trimmings that started from the shoulders down to where it meant where the plunging began. Back home, her mother would lose her sanity if she saw Evelyn wearing this; however, Evelyn wanted to shake up society this year and not mold into their expectations of how a lady should be.

She also occasionally rearranged the corset she wore underneath the dress since Anna did not wish for her breath a single breath this evening. Maybe if she lost consciousness it would put an end to this formidable event that she must attend. The pressure was on for her, she did not want to go back to her betrothed. With the sudden stop of the carriage, Evelyn could hear the light chatter and entertainment that awaited her. The coachman assisted her with getting out the vehicle and she politely nodded her head to show her thanks, before swiftly making her way into the event. The announcement of her arrival startled her when she made her way into the room, she forgot that every family must be announced when entering the ballroom for the first time this evening. Evelyn kept her eyes glued to the ground at first, until she remembered that it would show as cowardly and submissive. She held herself up high, and made eye contact with every person in the room; as well as trying to find her aunt.

To regain her energy in her search to find her aunt as quickly as possible, since she knew nobody here, it sure will be tricky navigating the room without the aid of her aunt whispering into her ear who is the creme de le creme and who has Lady Whistledown gotten too. Evelyn did not want to dance with any of the young gentlemen yet, she needed something sweet to ease her into the night, though what she found might have been better than sweets. A young gentlemen muttering to himself about how he is in trouble, "They may think you are mad if you continue to speak alone with yourself," she blurted without introducing herself nor any mannerisms to start a conversation with this marvel of a man. It was as if the Gods themselves carved him, and she was the spectator observing the muscular model in front of her come alive.

location: on the edge of the dancefloor • tags: Bellz • mood: anxious • interactions: Ian

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace

Lady Celestine Davenport​

It was a most peculiar sensation. To transition from a room teeming with familiar faces—dear childhood companions, casual acquaintances, and young gentlemen who had once shown a fleeting interest in her—into what felt like an abyss of silence. It was not merely silence, but a protracted and agonizing quiet, as though she were destined to ruminate endlessly upon the events of the previous season. There had been a time when soirees and gatherings were a source of delight for her, a respite from the oppressive confines of her family home, a chance to bask in the luminescence that the Ton seemed to promise. Yet now, both her family abode and the society she once cherished felt indistinguishable—cruel, frigid, and unyieldingly judgmental. To cling to the company of her two brothers and sister seemed an insult to them, as if she were the blemish upon their virtue, despite the already sullied reputation of their family.

Morgan had mentioned that their mother had not wed until her second season, but the rest of his words fell upon deaf ears as a chilling realization struck her—that she might end up marrying someone exactly like her father. Though she was certain Morgan’s intentions were to offer comfort with his words, they only deepened her distress. For if she were to follow the same tortuous path as their Mama, she would inevitably find herself bound to a dreadful, abusive, and thoroughly debauched drunkard.

Ichabod had followed them inside, his voice startling Celestine slightly with its unexpected proximity. At the mention of "Duchess," her shoulders tensed, yet she remained silent. Celestine knew little of this Duchess or her connection to any Duke. However, she could vividly recall how near she—and everyone else—had believed she was to secure such a title for herself.

Biting down on her bottom lip, her wide brown eyes once more swept over the room. This was why she endured such intense scrutiny compared to the other ladies in their second season. It was not merely because she hailed from such a...gossip-worthy family. Rather, it was the fact that she had been courted by a Duke in one season, only to be abandoned by him in the same. There had been neither a proposal nor an explanation, neither for herself nor for the Ton. Merely...rumors.

Celestine had allowed the rumors to spread, for they were all that could be spoken of the matter. At least, all that could be said without her being utterly scandalized. It would stay that way. For Elodie, who needed to find a husband this season, a true love match. She wanted nothing more for her little sister... Thinking back on it, foolishly, she had loved him. And that sentiment lingered still. Yet Celestine was convinced the Duke of Cardiff would not dare show his face around here again. Nor did she wish for him to. He had ruined her image.

Ichabod interrupted her thoughts, which were spiraling ever deeper by the second. "My hero, Ichabod, truly," she remarked. Her brothers were making efforts for her—well, at least two of them were. But truly, their efforts ought to be for Elodie. She should be making more of an effort too. Offering both Ichabod and Morgan a smile that did not reach her eyes, she said, "I shall brave the scrutiny if only to ensure you both survive the attentions of the other ladies of the Ton."

Her eyes darted from wall to wall. "I should hope you don’t plan to tether yourselves to your sisters all evening. Do ask a lady to dance tonight. Has anyone caught your eye as of yet, brother?" she inquired of Morgan, then turned to Ichabod, and catching Elodie's eyes nearby. "We must ensure he heeds Mama’s advice, or at the very least appears to." This was beneficial—she needed to divert her attention away from herself and onto something else.
with: Morgan CapellaStargaze ; Ichabod Jesster Elodie SavannahSmiles

 

[AnimeGenork]

• Theodore

• 
  
  Theodore Willowby

  
  “Wipe that sour look off your face, sweetums,” Theodore Willowby’s mother said to him, brushing a fussy hand over his wavy hair. She herself looked radiant, but then, Teddy would have thought so even without the ball. His mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, and who was he to even try to prove otherwise?
  
  “You don’t have to make any decisions tonight,” his stepfather said, straightening his own tie and readjusting his cufflinks. “Get a sense of who is out there. Dance a few dances, talk to a few ladies. You’ll have plenty of time for courting this season.”
  
  “Yes, of course,” Teddy murmured to himself, staring aimlessly out of the window of the carriage. When his brother had been alive, he’d attended these events with him. Being a man with no status had saved him, then, as none of the mothers or ladies had even tried to hold his attention. Things were different now. As the next Lord Willowby, he would have so many vying for his attention. He could only hope they wouldn’t notice he had no idea what he was doing.
  
  He felt numb as his parents guided him into the palace. When had he even stepped out of the carriage? His eyes widened as they entered the ballroom, his heart dropping to his feet as he took in the glorious sight. Why was he even here? Surely he didn’t belong in this room, with all of these beautiful people who were raised in this life, who knew how to walk and talk in it. An intense fear settled over him, even as he tried to take deep breaths.
  
  His parents whispered and discussed the merits of the various families they spotted and recognized, while Teddy could only see the strangers they all were to him. Why hadn’t he been allowed to stay home and take care of the chickens? Or the cattle? What had ever possessed his parents to make this his burden rather than try for another child who would actually know what was going on?
  
  “What a darling young lady,” his mother said, breaking him out of his reverie. He gave her a blank, confused look—otherwise known as his go-to expression—and she smiled. “Look over there.” She gently tilted his head to look in the same direction as she was.
  
  Though Teddy could appreciate how lovely the girl in question was, the idea of talking to her was definitely not on his to-do list. “Must I?”
  
  “Give it a go,” his stepfather urged, patting him on the shoulder. “You have a rustic charm that will have all of the ladies fawning over you.”
  
  That was the last thing Teddy wanted.
  
  “Go ahead,” his mother said, pushing him in the young lady’s direction.
  
  Teddy swallowed down the lump in his throat and woodenly walked over to the admittedly beautiful debutante. His thoughts were swirling so much, he couldn’t think up a proper greeting on the way over to her. When he finally reached her, he said the first thing that tumbled out of his mouth: “Uh… hello.” A cough. This was going great. “Um. I-I’m Theodore Du—Willowby, uh. Soon to be Lord Willowby, I suppose.” Wow, he really wasn’t used to this yet.
  
  He sighed. “My parents insisted I talk with you, please forgive me for interrupting your night. Um… do you know anything about cattle?”
  
  I wish I was at home with the animals.
  
  
  

  Mentions: N/A | Interactions: Lydia | Tags: WanderLust.​

  
  
  

  coded by: @s e v e n​

  ​

 

[SandraDeelightful]

Sophy Bloomington
​

To say that Sophy was terrified, would be an understatement. She was tempted to feign a headache and curl under her covers, and hide away for the rest of the season, but she knew her mother would never believe her. But the thought of being among all those people… the Queen herself! The thought was enough to really make her ill.

She stood before her mirror,checking her hair, her pale blue gown, taking her gloves off and putting them back on, to make sure everything looked perfect. Making sure every pale gold curl was in place. Oh, who was she kidding? She was so nervous, if she looked perfect, she wouldn’t be able to discern it. She was stalling, plain and simple. Delaying the inevitable. Giving herself more time to think of some way to get out of going this evening.

She heard her mother call out, and sighed. Her time was up, and she had no excuse. She prayed for a sudden onset of a fever as she left her room, but she had no such luck, and she was shuffled into the carriage. Upon arriving, she felt like she was going to throw up. She almost wished she would, at least out of sight from everybody. It would give her an excuse to go home.

Sophy entered the ballroom, clinging to Francis’s arm. She looked more like she was approaching the hangman’s noose as opposed to attending her first ball. It should have been a joyous occasion. She ought to be eager, but she just wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. That seemed to be a better fate than being among so many people, trying to make conversation. Whatever would she talk about? Whatever would they wish to speak to her about. Everything about it was so beautiful, so grand.

Sophy was reluctant to leave her mother’s side, but nevertheless she looped her arm through Augustus’s. She held onto him as though her life depended on it. She was tempted to bury her face in the crook of his neck, as if she were a frightened child. As if she weren’t to see everyone, then they wouldn’t see her. How could she be considered a woman entering society, old enough to find a husband, when she could hardly stand to be seen by anyone? Her eyes widened hearing she could catch the Queen’s eye. Of course, she had known before, but it hadn’t truly registered with her until just now. Of course, she was under no illusions that she might be selected as a diamond. Perhaps she was pretty, but one couldn’t be a diamond on beauty alone. She was well aware she lacked the charm that came along with it. Amelia would make a brilliant diamond, both lovely and charming. If ever there was a girl born to be a diamond, it would be her. She would do well as a diamond.

“You’re leaving us, August? So soon?” Sophy asked, her voice trembling slightly, practically begging him not to leave. “Surely we ought to stay by your side a little bit longer, if only to find our footing.”

Pyroclast
neverbackdown

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Outlines of Dancefloor)

Lady Victoria Bloomington​

"Augustus, dear, it is high time you sought a suitable match for yourself," Victoria implored, her tone weary yet affectionate. "But alas, I fear my words fall upon deaf ears, as you are no doubt weary of your mother’s incessant prattling on such matters." She sighed deeply, the weight of her son's unchanging response pressing heavily upon her. This was a refrain she had grown all too accustomed to hearing. From the very moment his father departed this world, Augustus had embraced his duties with unwavering resolve. Though it was never explicitly stated that he would inherit the title of Viscount upon Stephan’s demise, her eldest son had been groomed for this role since birth. It was in his very nature to shoulder such responsibilities the instant they were bestowed upon him.

"Now, Tilly, we must refrain from speaking ill of the Davenports; they are our friends, are they not? Even if their reputation leaves much to be desired." Victoria gently chided, her eyes following Augustus as he escorted Amelia and Sophy. "Enjoy yourselves, my dears!" she called after them before she turned her attention to Tilly. "At seven and ten years old, you still require a degree of oversight. Such care was a luxury I would have cherished. Remember, my dear, I shall not always be here to provide it." Victoria murmured, then glanced at Francis, who was enduring the playful antics of his younger sister. "Oh, very well, Matilda," Victoria sighed, offering her second eldest son an apologetic look, though she knew his patience was commendable.

"Maturity encompasses far more than a mere name, my dear," Victoria gently imparted, her gaze softening as she regarded her daughter. "There is a grace you must carry. But worry not, I shall share these lessons with you in due time, closer to your debut. For now, revel in your youth. You are the last of my brood to venture into society's embrace. Consider it a privilege, as it affords me more opportunities to dote upon you." Victoria attempted to reason with her daughter, though she knew all too well the impatience that often accompanied youth. It seemed her daughter, much like herself, harbored a desire to hasten the journey into adulthood.

Her attention drifted toward the refreshments table, where the familiar figures of the Davenport siblings caught her eye, though her mind had yet to fully register their presence...

~1782 (18 years old) ~
​

"It is you...?" came a voice from behind Victoria. She had, until that moment, made herself a charming addition to the wall, blending seamlessly with the clusters of blooming hydrangeas. Startled, she turned abruptly and choked on her lemonade, sending a spray of the liquid towards the speaker. It splattered all over his exquisite deep indigo attire.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying just enough to attract the attention of nearby guests. Yet again, the man erupted in that deep, familiar laughter—the same laughter she had heard the day she unceremoniously unseated him from his horse after hitting him with a gardening tool.

"You find my embarrassment amusing?" Victoria asked, her frustration evident as she hurried away, hoping to escape his company. But he followed her, maintaining a respectful distance, enough to pursue without imposing upon her comfort.

"Of course not, my lady—" Victoria halted in her steps, turning to face him. His eyes, a golden brown like honey, seemed to shimmer with barely concealed amusement. "I find you amusing," he concluded, a smile playing at his lips. Victoria's expression tightened in annoyance, and the man quickly realized his blunder.


"Wait, that's not what I meant," he stammered, attempting to rectify his misstep.

Victoria spun on her heels, heading briskly towards the refreshments table to deposit her now empty glass, eager to escape to her Mama, who was promenading about the room with her father. "Then what is it exactly that you meant?" she demanded, quickening her pace and extending her steps as far as her voluminous skirt would allow. It proved her undoing, for her left foot caught in her underskirt, sending her nearly sprawling to the floor. Yet the man was there, catching her almost effortlessly. A gasp escaped her lips, and the surrounding conversations fell silent.

"Dance with me? Grant me a moment in your world, and I shall leave you in peace once the song concludes, should that be your desire," the man implored, gently positioning her upright with a grace that maintained propriety in the eyes of the onlookers. Victoria knew that refusing him now would only spark gossip. She clutched the empty glass tightly, glancing at it before casting her eyes towards the refreshments table. After a brief moment of contemplation, she responded, "A moment in my world, then I wish for you never to set foot in it again." She offered him a charming smile, one laced with insincerity and a hint of defiance.


"If this is what you wish, then I shall honor it," he replied, sincerity gleaming in his eyes. Victoria looked skeptical but allowed him to take her glass and place it on the tray of a passing waiter. "I suppose I should know the name of the man with whom I am to endure an entire painful song," she remarked. Another laugh escaped him—though this time, a trill ran down her spine at the sound, and she did not feel entirely enraged by it.


"Lord Stephan Bloomington, my lady. And what a painful song it will be, for I truly am the worst company," he said with a playful wink.

***​

"Francis, my dear boy, are you not going to mingle with the others?" Victoria inquired, the fleeting memory dissipating as quickly as it had arisen. She turned to her second eldest and bestowed upon him a radiant smile, one that seemed innocent and devoid of ulterior motives. Yet, with all her questions and gentle prodding this evening, Victoria was merely attempting to secure for her children the same happiness she had found for herself. Matilda was still too young, but next year, Victoria would champion her cause as well.

"You know, it was at a party similar to this one that I met your father again," she continued, "after I had knocked him off his horse at our summer home in the countryside. I knew neither his name nor his title then." The older blonde cast another wistful glance towards the refreshments table, her eyes slowly drifting to the dance floor. "I embarrassed myself once more, and he laughed. At first, I thought he was laughing at me, and I was so enraged that I stormed off and nearly fell in that ridiculous gown I was wearing. But he caught me, asked me to dance—more precisely, he asked me for a moment in my world."

Her smile grew distant as she turned back to her children. "His laugh is a sound I don’t think I will ever be able to forget."

A weighted silence hung in the air before Victoria cleared her throat and turned her attention to Francis. "Which is precisely why I believe you should seek out a charming lady for a dance," she suggested, her gaze shifting briefly to Matilda. "I shall keep Ti—Matilda company. We shall manage splendidly here. Go and enjoy the evening, Find someone as memorable to you as your father was to me."
with: Francis CapellaStargaze ; Matilda AnimeGenork
mentions: August Pyroclast ; Sophy SandraDeelightful ; Amelia neverbackdown ....the Davenports lol

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Main Gardens)

Duchess Scarlet Jameson​

"A lovely evening , is it not?" The words drifted from behind her, causing Scarlet to pause mid-step. She could have pretended not to hear, attributing the address to another passerby. But as she turned, she realized she was the sole occupant of this secluded path, save for the mysterious stranger who now stood before her.

A giggle bubbled up from within her, escaping her lips like a cascade of musical notes. Despite the chaos that had ensued earlier, she found herself charmed by his unexpected presence. Indeed, the evening had taken a calamitous turn, one she had been eager to flee after being ensnared in a swarm of society's finest. "Nearly perfect, that is, until they discover our clandestine escapade," she replied, her voice carrying the lilt of amusement. With a graceful movement, she turned her head towards him, her gaze alighting upon his profile as he gazed out at the vista she had been quietly reveling in just moments before. There was some thought to the fact that they were both out here alone...unchaperoned, but it could be easily dealt with if need be. Rumors could be silenced as quickly as they were spread.

His focus shifted to her, a genial grin spreading across his features, lazily charming. It was the sort of smile that could once have left her breathless, her young heart fluttering with naive infatuation. But those days were long past; her heart, now cautious and reserved. Though his words still managed to coax a familiar warmth to her cheeks, the smile she returned was more an act of politeness than one of flirtation, her defenses firmly in place.

They shared a sip of their drinks, their gazes returning once more to the enchanting panorama of the palace gardens. Scarlet maintained her composure, allowing the gentleman to set whatever tone he desired. A nagging voice reminded her of the necessity to temper her expectations; circumstances demanded she not be as discerning as she once could afford to be.

Time pressed on, urging her to secure a suitable match, one capable of assuming the mantle of a respectable Duke. Glancing at her companion, she scrutinized his countenance for a fleeting moment before posing her query, her tone laced with subtle intrigue, "I presume you are not inclined to entertain the offerings of the matchmaking Mamas within those walls?"

It was a loaded question, fraught with complexities. Each woman held her own allure, akin to a precious gem waiting to be discovered. While Scarlet held Queen Charlotte in high regard, she found herself at odds with the Queen's penchant for singling out a solitary debutante for the season's spotlight. In her eyes, every lady shimmered brightest when united. Yet, this singular focus often casts shadows upon those deserving of affection, leaving them feeling overlooked and undervalued.

Scarlet found herself entangled in a regressive ritual she often disdained, yet here she stood amidst her sisters, guiding them through their inaugural ball, all the while navigating the intricate dance of courtship herself. "It's uncommon for gentlemen to extend their attentions to a lady who strays from the flock," she remarked, her voice tinged with playful curiosity. "Or perhaps it's the allure of the open air that beckons you." Her tone bore a hint of jest as she sought to unravel the enigma before her.

"And might I inquire the name of this elusive lord, or shall I embark on a quest to decipher the hidden meaning behind your poetic words?" A solitary eyebrow arched as she bestowed upon him a mischievous grin.
with: Henry -- a rake is a rake is a rake -- Davenport AnimeGenork

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Dancefloor)

Ian Amesbury​

Ian, in his usual demeanor, remained untroubled by the prospect of entangling himself in the affairs of others within the entirety of the Ton. However, the thought of Scarlet having his head... well, that gave him pause. The lady possessed a fiery disposition — though she would defend it as a fervent passion for protection. Some might whisper that the power of her title had already begun to cloud her judgment, but Ian knew better; it was merely the burden of her responsibilities weighing heavily upon her. Scarlet struggled to disentangle her emotions from her duties. This, precisely, was why he needed to locate her sisters before Scarlet discovered them unchaperoned.

"They may think you are mad if you continue to speak alone with yourself," a voice remarked from his left. Ian turned slightly, his brows arching with interest. Another redhead, though this one was not fated to dominate his life. The abruptness of her comment and the languid way her eyes traced his form betrayed her. Without wishing to appear conceited, Ian recognized this familiar reaction. However, it was rare for a lady to boldly suggest he was mad for muttering to himself.

A slight smirk formed on his lips as he blinked at her, clearly taken aback by her words. Turning fully to her, "Do we not all converse with ourselves? At least within our minds." He leaned forward, his pointer finger delicately pointing towards her head, hovering just above her fiery red hair. "The Ton may believe what it wishes; I am untroubled by such gossip. If I am deemed a madman, so be it, little dove." His eyes now appraised her form. "Pray tell, do you begin all your conversations in this manner? Or only when you are nervous?"

Ian's expression softened into a gentle smile. Should she appear surprised, Ian would simply shake his head and fold his arms across his broad chest.

"Every dazzling debutante harbors nerves this evening, my lady. You are neither the first nor the last. But, if I may be so bold, you are as radiant as the sun's first morning light." He extended his hand to hers. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing the name of such a bright spot amid this tedious event, or am I deemed too mad to be trusted?"
with: Evelyn sprouhtt

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Outskirts of Dancefloor, again)

Lady Helena Bexley​

"Whatever are you doing all the way out here, child?"

Helena flinched at the sound of that voice. She had been buying time, knowing full well it was borrowed, but still, it was enough. She placed a delicate smile on her face, as if she knew nothing of Queen Charlotte's true meaning, and turned to face her and her ladies-in-waiting, who had been strolling through the gardens. Why they had ventured so far towards the Dark Walk was beyond her.


"I believe I got lost, Your Highness," Helena feigned, moving to grasp the fan at her wrist, snapping it open to appear flustered as she fanned herself and dipped into a low curtsy. In the dim light, it was clear that the Queen did not believe her facade for a moment, her face as rigid and unmoving as the statue Helena had been staring at only seconds before.

"Lost? Well, it is a miracle your Queen has found you!" Queen Charlotte exclaimed with a knowing smirk. Helena rose to a standing position once more. "A-a miracle indeed," she stuttered, while the ladies-in-waiting murmured their agreement.
"Let us return to the party, shall we? A lady of your stature should not be wasting away alone in the dark," Queen Charlotte commanded. Helena did not hesitate a moment longer in the maze beside the statue. "Walk with me," the Queen said, and Helena quickly fell into stride with her, closing her fan and allowing it to drop gracefully at her side.

"What were you truly doing out there by yourself, Miss Helena?" the Queen inquired, her voice tinged with intrigue as they walked through the maze, her ladies-in-waiting and guards following behind. Helena glanced at her from the side, swallowing nervously. "What do you believe I was doing, Your Highness?" she asked. The Queen scoffed, "Do not answer my question with a question."

Helena swallowed nervously. "I was not waiting for anyone near the Dark Walk if that is what you are assuming. I simply sought a moment of quiet away from the party." She turned to look at the Queen, their eyes meeting. As they exited the maze, the murmuring from the palace reminded Helena of what awaited her inside. She knew better than to attempt to persuade the Queen to allow her to remain outside.


"Escaping your problems only prolongs them and harms you in the end, Miss Helena," Queen Charlotte remarked.
They walked through the double doors into the blinding light of the party once more, turning heads as people wondered what Helena was doing with the Queen. "I was distraught to find that you had returned. Normally, your parents send word of their arrival..." Helena's face paled slightly, and she looked to the Queen, ignoring the other guests for a moment. "I-I... came alone this time," she managed to say. The Queen, ever vigilant, stared at her for a long moment before responding, "Do send them my best, then, and extend the same courtesy when you arrive in my domain. Enjoy the party, Miss Helena."


Helena curtsied deeply as the Queen departed, though she struggled to maintain her balance. Once the Queen was gone, Helena took a deep breath to regain her composure. Deciding that perhaps the Queen was right, Helena made her way towards the dance floor, doing her best to avoid the lingering stares while keeping her chin held high. She couldn't hide forever.
soon to be with: Francis CapellaStargaze

 

[sprouhtt]

Evelyn Forbes.

A challenge it seems has sparked something in Evelyn that caused her piercing orbs to dance with amusement. She knew that the way she had stared, or more-so gawk at her, caused him to return the favor. Evelyn was never the one to stare at another specimen like a wolf watching its prey, however, this mans beauty was hard to miss. Do not get her wrong, the other gentlemen here, from who she has laid eyes on are quite easy on the eyes, though they do not hold a comparison to the dark features of this man. His body language shifted and so did hers, not knowing his next intentions due to how he responded, she tried to remain calm. "We do, though I for one have yet to come across a man of this here society letting the ton hear what may cause you distress." She chuckled lightly as a subtle dimple nestled in her rosy cheeks, deepening as a smile began to form.

Evelyn knew how to hold her own in certain situations, especially growing up around her brothers sure made her tough around the edges. Though when you barely know a man, it seems daunting not knowing what he may do or say next. Which is why his next move caught her off guard, causing her smile to disappear and her cheeks to display the same color red as her dress. Observing as his pointer finger directed towards her, hovering over her like a weight waiting to drop at any moment. She looked up under her dark lashes, "It is a reflection of who I am, though do forgive me if I led you to believe that I was raised with no manners." Her mother was probably getting a file hundreds of miles away knowing that her daughter threw away everything that she taught Evelyn on how to conduct herself in the eyes of society. "...it was not in my intentions, though I do not like sugar coating or trying to coax a conversation, you could say I get right to the point." A woman speaking so bolding what is on her mind certainly cannot go unnoticed and Evelyn would love to see what he has to say next.

She brought her face to the opposite direction to see what treats were so beautifully laid out, what she had come to do before getting distracted by this mans mumbling. A strawberry caught her eyes, this here, she thought to herself, was the lucky contender, she picked it and brought it up to her lips, and the vibrant color stained her lips as she took a bite. When she was done, she looked back at the tall gentlemen who she did not even get his name, "I am far from nerves, however, would you have preferred I curtsy in front of you and bat my lashes, lowering myself into the ultimate submissive manor; hoping to distract you from the ton?" Evelyn teased as a small yet audible laugh escaped. She placed the remaining part of the strawberry that nobody seemed to like right into her mouth, giving it the justice that it deserves. Everyone thought that eating the stem was bad for you, though Evelyn always had a fascination in plants, where she found that it did no harm to the body to finish the whole strawberry, leaf including.

A compliment, the first sweet compliment of the season she has received, though she did have to remember that this whole ballroom was a battlefield, and choosing the right words to say will evidently land you congratulations on your nuptials. For Evelyn, she did not yet know where she stood with Mr. Madman that she found herself saying, "I am most flattered by your comment, however I cannot be the first maiden you have given such compliments to that would make the sun jealous..." She brought her hand to his, and it caused her reflects to retract them back slightly, though still remaining in his palm, at how shocked she was when she felt the softness of his large hands. "Any man bold enough to speak his mind to the ton on how he feels may know my name, Evelyn Forbes, and who do I have the pleasure in conversing with?"

location: on the edge of the dancefloor • tags: Bellz • mood: intrigued • interactions: Ian

 

[CapellaStargaze]

Morgan Davenport

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  Bellz Pyroclast neverbackdown SandraDeelightful
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Morgan gave his sister a raise of his brow. Surely she wasn’t trying to use him as a distraction. He looked over her head to his brother and then back to her. “Don’t you two misfits get any ideas,” he warned before scanning the room.

They were right though. He did need to actively look for someone to dance with or he would never hear the end of it. He did promise his mother that he would actively look for a wife and while that was the last thing his true self wanted, it was something he must endure. While scanning, he landed on August, his oldest friend along with his sister’s he was courting this season.

“Before I subject myself to the piranha pit that is the ladies and their mama’s, let’s go say hello to a dear friend. Celestine, come with me.” he looped his arm with hers and made his way across the room, not giving her much of a choice. While moving through the crown of ball goers, he noticed Evelyn, one of the very few people that knew the true him in this city and Ian, someone that Morgan’s bed knew very well. He passed the two, shooting Ian a look that suggested he not go home with anyone tonight before making his way to his destination. Once Morgan and Celestine made it to the group of Bloomingtons, he let her arm go with a smile.

“Viscount Bloomington. Keeping these sisters of yours out of trouble I see,” he gave a smile, giving one to the Bloomington sisters as well.

Bad Guy

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡

Francis Bloomington

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Fracis gave his mother a look but inevitably sighed. He knew he had to at least dance with one or two ladies tonight to appease his mother. He would give her the satisfaction of a dance but he was going to be picky when it came to courting. He truly wanted a love match like his mother and father.

“Very well. For you, mother, I will go find a beautiful lady to dance with,” he gave her a smile and playfully patted Tilly on the head before making his departure.

Francis could never deny his mother’s wishes, no matter how hard he tried. So, he moved around the edge of the dancefloor. He knew it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone to dance with but he had been to enough of these things to know who to avoid. Sometimes it wasn’t even the lady herself but her mama. They could be ruthless. As he was moving closer to the entrance, the Queen passed him. He gave a small bow before looking back up to see Helena. She was a dear old friend of August’s, one he didn’t know was back from Austria. He moved around the crowd to where she stood. He gave her a small smile.

“Helena, I didn’t know you had made it back from Austria. How are you?”

girls like you

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[neverbackdown]

10th of April, 1815
Grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace

Lady Amelia Bloomington
​

Amelia sat in silence as her maid expertly twirled and plaited her hair into a delicate yet sophisticated up style. Her hands were held tightly on her lap as she looked down at the beautifully crafted white dress with floral designs throughout as she attempted to calm her nerves for the evening ahead. Whilst excited to attend a ball and to be officially out in society, Amelia, much like all other ladies making their appearance at the Ton was feeling the immense pressure to make an impression on Society and most importantly, the Queen herself.

Once her hair was completed, Amelia stood carefully as she approached the floor length mirror to take in her appearance. After attempting various smiles to her reflection, Amelia settled on a gentle half smile to seem pleasant and inviting but not appearing too excited. After all, one must not look desperate should they want to attract a suitable and upstanding match. Amelia didn't have much time to consider other societal etiquettes before she heard her mother's voice ringing through the house and quickly turned towards the door, grabbing both her gloves and dance card of the dresser as she left her room and descended the stairs towards her mother and siblings.

The carriage ride was unusually quiet as for the first time in their lives, it appeared the Bloomington siblings had nothing to say to one another as the bubbling anxiety of the first ball of the ton seemed to be almost suffocating. Noting her sister to be particularly on edge, Amelia reached over and grabbed Sophy's hand, squeezing it reassuringly to show her sister that they were in this together.

As the carriage came to a stop, Amelia let go of her sister's hand and took a deep breath to calm the nerves before she stepped out of the carriage, her eyes landed on the palace in front of them and a genuine awestricken smile played on her expression as she took in the beauty of it all. Her brother's arm taking her own snapped Amelia from her thoughts as she smiled up at him as they began to walk slowly towards the door.

"Thank you brother, I think we may need to keep an extra eye on Sophy tonight, not let her fall into the company of the wall" her voice lowered as she spoke about her younger sister, who was walking ahead with Francis before she nudged her brother with an amused expression on her face "and shall you be dancing with any ladies tonight, Mama would be so pleased if you should" amusement could be heard clearly in her voice as she teased her brother but all amusement seemed to fall away as they entered the ballroom and came face to face with the Ton and their Queen, sitting above them all.

Placing the practiced gentle smile on her expression, Amelia walked alongside August to their family and she couldn't help sending her brother an amused smirk as their mother quickly sent Amelia, Francis and Sophy to get refreshments so she could speak with August privately. "I'd say this is the second time of tonight and not the last time at that" Amelia commented as she looked back towards her mother as she ushered the siblings back towards her. "I wish you luck with Tilly brother" she whispered to Francis before she took August's arm and allowed him to lead her and Sophy away from their family.

Amelia nodded as Augustus confirmed that he would not be bossing them around and she opened her mouth to thank him but her attention was quickly drawn towards her sister as she spoke. "Oh no Sophy don't fret, he will stay with you as long as you need I am sure of it, he just means should you be asked to dance or wish to go on your own then he will allow you to at your own discretion" her tone was comforting and motherly as she addressed her sister, taking both her hands into her own. "We are in this together, you and I" she reminded her as she gently squeezed her hands.

Movement to her left caught her eye and Amelia let go off Sophy's hands as she turned to face the new arrivals. A graceful smile played on her lips as they approached "Lord Davenport" she greeted before turning her attention towards Celestine "Lovely ball is it not, the most wonderful way to start the new Ton for us?" she mused noting that the eldest Davenport daughter was no doubt nervous about the night given her experience at the previous ton. . Having known the Davenports most of her life, Amelia never let herself be phased by the rumors that had followed Celestine at the previous ton nor did she give it any thought or time. She wanted to comfort Celestine, to tell her not to worry and how the Ton always has a way of forgetting scandals, However, Amelia knew how drama can unfold and words can be construed, especially with Lady Whistledown appearing to listen in on every word and so she settled for a reassuring smile and hoped the girl would be able to read between the lines.

Interactions;-

Previously (Mother dearest, Francis & Tilly AnimeGenork )

Now:
Augustus Pyroclast
Sophy SandraDeelightful
Morgan CapellaStargaze
Celestine Bellz

 

[Pyroclast]

7th of April, 1815
En route through Wales

Lord Edmund Hennessy
​

The rain pelted against the window, the heavy droplets jumping across the glass with each jostle of the carriage. Wales seemed so far to equal Ireland in its poor weather. The countryside stretched uninterrupted all the way up to the jagged horizon of the hills, and would have been beautiful had its verdant pastures not been dulled by the grey sky above.

"Have you lost your tongue?" the Earl questioned. Only then did Edmund realise that his father had been talking at him for some time. "You are not still ill from our journey on the sea? I never did take you for a man of adventure, but nor are you such a homebody that I would expect a simple carriage ride to upset you."

Edmund drew a breath and managed to plaster a smile on his face. "I assure you, I have quite recovered, papa," he said. "I simply am not used to being on the sea, is all. The rocking of the ship took me by surprise." His gaze returned to the miserable view through the window. "No, I only think of my patients back home..."

Lord Hennessy tutted. "And what of them? You settled them in the care of another physician. If any are to die, it shall not be by your hand." Edmund stirred at his words, delivered so nonchalantly, but before he could answer, his father went back to his speechmaking. "Ah, London," he sighed contentedly. "Do you know, I should think the city to be of great appeal to you, Edmund. The ladies in England are a fairer breed than the ones you are used to. Perhaps a new social circle will be what you need to finally find yourself a wife. And just wait until you see the townhouse at Grosvenor Square!"

Never in his life had Edmund been in such confined company with his father for such a long period of time. It would be a few days yet before they reached London and he wasn't sure how he would bear it.

But bear it he did. He arrived in London only one day before the ball, exhausted less from the long journey than for the mental strength it took to navigate his father's incessant, ignorant conversation. Even after a welcoming meal, a hot bath and a long sleep, Edmund barely felt settled in this unfamiliar location before it was time to board the carriage once again and set off for the ball at Kew Palace.

Lord Augustus Bloomington​

August was hardly surprised when Sophy's anxiety surfaced at the suggestion of leaving his side to go and dance. A sympathetic smile showed on his face. "Dear sister," he said with a light shake of his head. "Amelia is right. Yes, my role tonight involves ensuring you mingle with the best of society and leave an impression on potential suitors - not to mention her majesty the queen - but first and foremost, I must take care of you. I have no intention of abandoning either of you, but I would encourage you both to dance at least one tonight. You may enjoy it more than you expect."

He hoped that Sophy took his reassurance to heart, for their conversation was soon ended by the arrival of Morgan and Celestine Davenport. A broad smile grew on August's face as he listened to his friend ask if he was keeping his sisters out of trouble. "And I was doing a good job of it, too, until you arrived," he teased, before extending his hand. "How are you, Morgan?" He then turned to Celestine. "And you, my lady - you look as lovely as ever. Tell me, are you well?"

Lord Edmund Hennessy​

"Come, son, you must by now have seen some suitable ladies that catch your eye," Lord Hennessy told Edmund as the two stood at the side of the room.

"But, papa, how should I know which of the young ladies are already spoken for?" Edmund asked. He felt his father was standing uncomfortably close, and kept having to step away from him to properly breathe. "It has been but 20 minutes since we arrived, surely you can't expect -"

"Several dances have gone by, Edmund, and all of them without you in them. What good will it do you to spend another 20 minutes standing at the side of the room like one of the staff?" The man put his hand firmly against Edmund's back and began to guide him forward. "Now, look here - there is the Viscount, Augustus Bloomington, with his two younger sisters. That young man there is, I believe, the second son of the Davenport family, with his sister. That young lady, the blonde girl - she is very pretty, is she not?"

Edmund blushed, deeply uncomfortable. "Papa..."

But his father was already on his way over to the group.

"Lord Bloomington, Lord Davenport," his father greeted them, a smile upon his face. "I believe we have not been formally introduced. My name is Lord Hennessy, the Earl of Cork, and as a member of Parliament, I come to London each year for the season. This year I have brought with me my son." He practically pulled Edmund in front of him, to Edmund's great embarrassment. "He is a renowned physician among the upper realms of society, sought from across all of Ireland. He is also a polyglot, has traversed the continent and rides very well on horseback."

To say Edmund was mortified would be a great understatement. He rarely heard his father pay him much attention at all, let alone boast of his achievements in the presence of others. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"This girl, here, is she one of your sisters?" he asked Augustus, gesturing to Sophy.

Augustus cleared his throat. "She is my youngest sister currently out, my Lord."

"Wonderful," Hennessy said. "In that case, my son here has a question he would like to ask her."

A silence followed, for Edmund was too stunned to speak at first. He couldn't believe what his father was doing, nor the words he spoke. After a long, terrible pause, Edmund finally cleared his throat and set his eyes on Sophy.

"My lady," he started, sure that his cheeks were pure crimson. "Would you...would you care to take this next dance with me?"

Interactions
SandraDeelightful Sophy (I'M SORRY)
CapellaStargaze Morgan
neverbackdown Amelia
Bellz Celestine

 

[WanderLust.]

WESTON SINCLAIRE
MARQUESS OF WINCHESTER

Under Pressure

Kew Palace

Open for Interaction!

Click Me

The title of Marquess weighed heavy on the head of Weston Sinclaire, who up until two years prior had been pleasantly content with his role as a second born son. With his new title came ceaseless new responsibilities, one of which was ensuring that his younger sister was appropriately matched this season. After the death of his elder brother and father, the remnants of the Sinclaire family had decided to return to London, where his maternal grandparents and a few cousins resided. London, his mother had decided, would be the best place to find eligible spouses for her remaining children. Odette Sinclaire had high hopes that her son and heir would ensnare the queen’s named diamond of the season. Though Weston was sure that with the ton’s numerous options for a bride, there would also be a considerable amount of competitive bachelors vying for their hands.

As their carriage jostled gently on the pavement, Weston’s gaze shifted from the view of Kew Palace out the window towards his sister, who was sitting next to him with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Their mother was busy fussing over a loose thread on the hem of Lydia’s dress, a gown that the Dowager Marchioness had spent a considerable amount of coin on to ensure that her only daughter was not overlooked at the Queen’s ball. Lydia was a vision in the softest hue of pink, like the petals of a blossoming flower in the early days of spring. Listening to his mother’s sharp comments made him feel the slightest twinge of pity for his sister. Lydia must’ve been the closest one could get to the embodiment of a perfect debutante, but even her pristine demeanor would never be satisfactory for Odette Sinclaire.

Weston often found himself wondering what prompted his mother’s unachievably high standards, if her own mother had held her to similar criteria, but he had resigned to the fact that he would likely never understand the inner workings of her integrity. He only hoped that when he found a bride of his own she would not be scared away by his mother’s scrutiny. The rhythmic knocking of their steward’s gloved hand upon the carriage door finally pulled Weston back to reality as he blinked once, twice before rising to his feet and opening the door with haste. He offered his hand first to his mother, guiding her down the steps from the carriage before he again offered his land to Lydia. Her gloved hand rested softly in his as she descended the steps, her blush colored gown shimmering in the light of the nearby torches as she walked.

“Weston, you’re to escort Lydia directly to the refreshments table where you will remain with her until she is asked to dance. Even then, you must linger close should she require a hasty excuse from any undesirable gentlemen.” It was evident that the Dowager Marchioness had taken great care in meticulously scheduling their night to ensure her children had ample opportunity to socialize with as many eligible matches as possible.

“You’re not the least bit worried my presence might scare away some of the more reserved gentlemen?” A wry smile tugged at the edges of Weston’s lips as he offered his arm to Lydia, who gently accepted it.

“Any gentleman who is wary of an elder brother is not one Lydia should waste her time entertaining. Now, I must go find the Dowager Viscountess Bloomington. I’ve heard she has not one, but two daughters debuting this season. Either one of whom would be an exemplary match for you, Weston.”

“Of course, Mother. I’ll ensure my sister is… amply hydrated.” He could practically hear his mother’s eyes roll to the back of her head as Lydia fought back a giggle, but his comment did not delay her from pursuing more productive conversations with higher ranking guests.

coded by natasha.

LYDIA SINCLAIRE

Curious and Excited

Kew Palace

Theodore AnimeGenork

Dress Hair Jewelry

Lydia had almost forgotten how heavily some of her more intricate gowns weighed against her slim frame. Her mother had hand chosen the one that was presently clinging to her porcelain skin, a soft shade of pink that the Dowager Marchioness had declared would make Lydia resemble a perfect blushing bride. Perfect. Her mother used that word so frequently to describe what her daughter should aspire towards. Anything less than a flawless execution tonight would surely leave Odette rather disenchanted with the entire evening. The very thought made Lydia stand up a little straighter, as if superior posture would signify the difference between a debutant and a spinster.

It was only when Weston handed her a glass of lemonade that Lydia realized her hand was shaking ever so slightly. Undetectable to most… but an observant wall flower might have been able to discern the young debutante’s nerves if they were paying close enough attention. In the span of ten seconds, Lydia had sipped meekly at the shimmering golden liquid, swallowed, and willed herself to cease the girlish tremoring. It was unbecoming of a lady of her stature… at least that’s what her mother would’ve said.

Social events did not normally warrant this type of reaction from Lydia, she was socially adept and usually quite at ease when under the scrutinizing eyes of society. There was, however, one salient difference tonight. The Sinclaires were new to the ton, which would undoubtedly establish one of two outcomes. Either London’s elite would dismiss them as unfamiliar faces with little intrigue, or the entirety of ton would be eager to play with the newest additions to their collection of beautiful faces. Lydia hoped it was the later as her storm cloud eyes drifted down towards her presently empty dance card.

“I should’ve worn the rubies…” Her voice was hushed as she spoke to Weston, berating herself for having ignored her maid's advice that the red stones would garner more attention than the ‘tasteful pearls’ currently adorning her neck.

“And had you worn the rubies, you would’ve been standing here telling me you should’ve worn the pearls.” Weston’s quip of a response came without hesitation. “You look lovely sister, do not fret. In fact, I do believe your pearls have earned you your first suitor.”

Weston's eyes strayed towards a dark-haired gentleman who was practically tumbling towards Lydia. She half expected him to look back towards his mother for reassurance, the way Lydia herself might’ve done had the tables been turned. But instead, the young man steeled himself, closing the gap between them moments later. Uh… hello.

The smile that graced Lydia’s lips was supposed to be one of practiced ease, effortless yet charming. However, it was sheer entertainment that caused her plump lips to curl upwards as she bowed her head in a subtle curtsy. “Good evening, my lord.”

My parents insisted I talk with you, please forgive me for interrupting your night. Um… do you know anything about cattle?

Weston made a noise behind her that sounded like a cross between a cough and strangled chuckle before excusing himself, but Lydia ignored her brother, her gaze never straying from the gentleman before her, her smile never faltering. She had not expected the lords in London to be quite so… genuine.

“I cannot say I’ve spent much time with them, though I am quite fond of all four legged creatures. My brother escorted me frequently to the horse races back in Winchester. Though I must admit, I was never much good at choosing a winning steed.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped her lips just then, which surprised her.

She took a final sip of her lemonade before placing the empty glass on the refreshment table behind her. For a moment, her eyes strayed past the shoulder of her gentleman caller, towards the dance floor where gowns of every shade were fanned out in colorful arrays as the lords and ladies of the ton twirled gracefully around one another.

“I’m sorry your parents made such a choice for you. I wish I could assure you that they do in fact have admirable taste in potential dance partners.” Lydia grinned softly, a play at humor lacing her voice. “I’ve yet to step on a single foot during a waltz… and I’d prefer to keep such a reputation untarnished.” She wanted to make him laugh, wanted him to feel as at ease as she did presently.

“Forgive me, but I don’t believe you gave me your name, sir…?”

coded by natasha.

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace (Outskirts of Dancefloor, again)

Lady Helena Bexley​

Her eyes continued to trace the dancers, her breath delicate yet deep as she inhaled through her nose. Then, a familiar voice uttered her name. It was a voice she welcomed with relief rather than trepidation. A practiced smile graced her lips, though she found it required less effort than usual as Helena turned to face Francis Bloomington.

He offered her a small smile. "Lord Bloomington, guten Abend” Helena greeted, nodding her head in a respectful bow. Unlike the other Bloomingtons who might have pestered her about whether August knew of her return, he refrained. This consideration eased her nerves.

"I have yet to inform most of those I left behind of my return. My journey was arduous. Had Her Majesty not been so insistent that my family attend tonight’s festivities, I might have declined." Helena's smile faltered as her thoughts turned inward, her expression growing serious. Her grandparents had posed the same question, but in their presence, she had been permitted to unravel.

Drawing back her shoulders, the young woman lifted her head, resolve etched upon her features as she declared, "I am well, Francis. Thank you. Though I fear I have been absent a lifetime, for you scarcely resemble the young man I last saw in London." Her smile returned, revealing two charming dimples.

"I do hope your..." She paused, carefully avoiding August’s name as her eyes briefly scanned the room before landing on Francis. "Family, will not be upset that I did not send word of my arrival as usual. My situation in Austria has been quite strained and has demanded all of my attention lately." The effort of concealing her true concerns was considerable, but Helena managed a broad smile, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

"And how are you? Is your mother still scheming to marry you and your siblings off, like all the other mamas?" she inquired with a knowing look. Though he did not appear as openly lost as many other men in the crowd, he still bore that unmistakable air.
with: Francis CapellaStargaze

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace

Lady Celestine Davenport​

Celestine was quite certain that her endeavor to divert her thoughts from her own troubles would succeed. Yet, it seemed she might not have exerted sufficient effort. Her brown eyes widened ever so slightly as Morgan proposed conversing with a cherished friend. Though she had spent her entire life intertwined with the Bloomington family, it had been some time since she had encountered them in public. Celestine found herself uncertain of her standing with her friends, or at least with those who remained. Amelia and Sophy were making their societal debut this season, each eager to seize the opportunity to find a husband. It was a position Celestine had found herself in only last year… before everything in her life had turned dreadfully void of color.

"Morgan, I do not believe it wise for me to intrude upon their—" Celestine began, but it was too late. Morgan had already entwined his arm with hers and was all but dragging her towards the Bloomington family. Celestine cast a desperate glance back at Ichabod, her eyes pleading for rescue. Yet, before anything could be done, they had vanished into the throng of the crowd.

Morgan seemed to have his rather obstinate head on a perpetual swivel, and had Celestine not been so acutely aware of her already tarnished reputation, she might have considered giving it a good knock to ensure it was aligned properly. Fixing her gaze forward, she met the eyes of those they passed, wishing she could simply vanish into the exquisite marble floor. Had the onlookers’ gazes conveyed clear anger or sadness, Celestine might not have been as concerned. But the inscrutable expressions around her were far more disconcerting, and it was evidently intended to be so.


The walk to the Bloomingtons, though brief, felt interminable. Morgan released her arm and greeted the Viscount, Amelia, and Sophy with an easy smile. Celestine, struggling to match her brother's breeziness, managed a small, closed-lipped smile and bowed her head in greeting. Observing the two women, she hoped they were faring well. Sophy appeared every bit as nervous as Celestine had been at the outset of her own season last year, clinging to her brother and sister’s arms. Amelia, on the other hand, seemed a natural. Both women were strikingly beautiful in their own right, radiating confidence and grace.

Celestine rolled her eyes at Morgan's remark, and as Amelia turned to her, she pivoted slightly to address her friend. It had been some time since they had spoken. Celestine had withdrawn from many activities following last season's embarrassment, so the lack of communication was not Amelia's fault.

"Wonderful indeed. The Queen certainly knows how to rouse a crowd with such extravagant parties," Celestine remarked. She understood Amelia's intention—it was the same as many others: to comfort her discreetly, especially with that gossip-monger lurking about, eager to capture their every word. It seemed one couldn't even whisper in the privacy of their own bedroom without it appearing in the scandal sheet the following week.

"You both look beautiful," Celestine remarked, her gaze shifting to include Sophy. There was more she wished to convey, perhaps a warning about succumbing to pressure, words she also longed to share with Elodie. However, knowing such advice might only frighten them as it would have frightened her, she chose silence.

When Augustus addressed her, Celestine's cheeks warmed at the compliment, a shy smile forming on her lips. "Thank you, Viscount Bloomington." She glanced at her brother. "As well as one could be in the company of my brother, as I’m sure you are aware." A teasing glint sparkled in her brown eyes as they returned to Augustus.

Any further jest was abruptly halted by an interruption. Celestine's shoulders tensed as the man introduced himself as Lord Hennessy, Earl of Cork. Her eyes flicked to the young man beside him, who appeared utterly mortified. Offering him a sympathetic look, she watched as the older man pushed Edmund forward. A physician of many talents, it seemed, yet his father was far too eager to see him matched with a lady.

Celestine's gaze turned steely towards the older gentleman as he referred to Sophy as "this girl, here," a sudden surge of rage she had not felt in quite some time threatening to surface. Cattle. They were treated like mere cattle. Nameless so they could be slaughtered. Her eyes darted to the Viscount, who appeared uncomfortable as he clarified that Sophy was his youngest sister, currently making her debut.

If he was uneasy with this, he could refuse. He had to refuse. But this was the game they were all compelled to play, the same game that had ruined her.

Celestine observed him, then Sophy, and finally Edmund, as if sizing him up. When the question was posed, she spoke before anyone else could, fixing Lord Hennessy with a pointed look. "This girl, here, has a name." She turned to Sophy. "And Lady Sophy Bloomington, you have choices. You do not have to dance with him if you do not wish. No matter what the men think they have decided for you, it is perfectly ladylike to decline if you wish it." Celestine looked from Sophy to Amelia then Morgan and Augustus. She knew she might be in trouble now, but she didn’t care. This was the very advice she had wished someone had boldly given her last season, in public rather than in private. It might have changed the outcome of everything.
with: Morgan CapellaStargaze ; Sophy SandraDeelightful ; Amelia neverbackdown ; Edmund, August, Lord Dickless H Pyroclast

 

[SandraDeelightful]

Sophy Bloomington
​

Sophy looked at Amelia with a small, nervous but sincere smile. When Amelia married (Sophy had no doubt Amelia would marry rather soon, given what a natural she was), Sophy would miss her dearly. The two were close, and Amelia was never short on comfort to provide.

She merely grinned at Morgan and Celestine. As dear friends as they were, Sophy was much too nervous to speak. Her nerves overcame her even more as the Earl of Cork and his son approached. She merely curtsied and tried to make herself small, practically trying to will herself to become invisible.

She supposed she ought to be offended by the Earl of Cork referring to her as ‘this girl, here’ but, in all honesty, she was too nervous being referred to at all to be incensed by it. She merely kept close to her brother and sister, looking at the Earl of Cork and his son.

Sophy’s eyes widened as Edmund asked her to dance, and a soft ‘oh!’ fell from her lips. She was silent for a moment, glancing between her brother and sister before turning back to him. She was sure her cheeks were as red as his were. She knew she was expected to dance tonight. As terrifying as the prospect was to her, she might be able to get it out of the way early. Besides, he seemed to be as nervous as her. Dancing with him would either be a very smart or very clumsy decision.

“Thank you, Lady Celestine,” Sophy said kindly and sincerely. Sophy would never have had the courage to defend herself in such a way. She turned back to Edmund. “But, I–I should be delighted to dance with you, my lord, if that is really what you wish.”

She was too much of a people-pleaser to decline the offer outright. Perhaps it wouldn’t be bad for her to dance, and she’d be lying if she said a part of her didn’t want to. But she certainly didn’t want to dance with someone who had been pushed into it.

neverbackdown Pyroclast CapellaStargaze Bellz

 

[Bellz]

10th of April, 1815
grand royal ballroom, Kew Palace

Lady Esmeralda Quijada-Hotham​

“¡Esto es ridículo!” Esmeralda exclaimed, her hands pressed against the long vertical mirror as her corset was tightened beyond the point of comfort. “English. You must practice English,” Mrs. Anna insisted, her voice gentle but firm. Esmeralda rolled her eyes. “Ridículo! I cannot breathe in this artilugio!” she retorted, slipping between English and her native Spanish. The maid behind her pulled the strings tighter, eliciting a gasp from Esmeralda, who then fell silent, understanding the silent command in Mrs. Anna's reflection. The entire ordeal was overwhelming. The corsets were too tight, the English silks itched, and the shoes pinched her feet. Yet, she was expected to don this attire and comport herself as a fine lady of society. She glanced at the hideous yellow dress in the corner, certain it would wash out her complexion.

“Mrs. Anna,” Lady Hotham called, gliding into the room with a servant carrying a large box. “How are things progressing?” Her mother’s English was far better than Esmeralda's, as she did not resist the language as Esmeralda did.

“We are running late, my lady,” Mrs. Anna responded, irritation evident. Esmeralda longed to stick out her tongue at the woman but refrained, instead, her nostrils flared in anger as she stared at her. “Madre, no quiero usar ese horrible vestido amarillo,” she pleaded, begging not to wear the yellow dress. Her mother smiled and directed the servant to set the box on Esmeralda’s bed. Curiosity piqued, Esmeralda forgot about her corset and stepped down from the stool. As the servant opened the box, Esmeralda gasped, “Madre!” “She cannot wear that to the first ball of the season!” Mrs. Anna protested, her face twisting in displeasure. Esmeralda, however, was captivated by the gown in the box, and waved her hands at Anna to be silent. It reminded her of home. Except she would not have been able to afford such lavish silks there. Meeting her mother’s eyes, she saw the permission she sought. Mrs. Anna groaned, muttering about Lady Whistledown having a grand time with this. But Esmeralda paid no mind to the woman, hugging her mother tightly in gratitude.

***​

Lord Hotham had nothing but praise for her attire, disagreeing entirely with his long-time housekeeper who deemed it inappropriate to wear a gown like she was now. For the first time since arriving in England, Esmeralda beamed with joy. "Muchas gracias a los dos," she said to her parents, her eyes shining with hope as they arrived at the grand event.

Arriving fashionably late, they found the palace ballroom already brimming with guests, all eyes turning toward the newcomer in her distinctive attire. For many, such attention might have been overwhelming, enough to make them crumble. Yet, while the curious glances were a bit disconcerting, Esmeralda met them with poise, nodding gracefully and offering kind smiles to those she passed.

However, As the whispers grew, it became clear that the room was abuzz with talk, not just talk—judgment. Her gown, in a rich shade of purple, dipped into a daring V at the chest rather than the more modest sweetheart neckline. The waistline flowed freely, unconfined by an undershell or petticoat. Esmeralda's confidence wavered slightly as she clung to her mother’s arm.

"Una bebida—" She cleared her throat, "A drink." Her mother nodded understandingly, and Lord Hotham excused himself to join his friends, leaving the women to seek refreshments on their own.
with: Open for interaction

 

[CapellaStargaze]

Francis Bloomington

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  Bellz
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Francis gave Helena a smile. She definitely seemed different from the last time she was here. Though it had been quite some time, Francis found her a tad quieter than before. He wasn’t sure what Helena and August’s friendship was like nowadays but apparently strained enough to give a call like she usually did. He would have to ask his dear brother about it later.

“Well, I do hope your time here fairs better than your trip.” He gave a small chuckle at her comment about his change in appearance. He supposed his boyish features did finally subside with his youth. She changed some too, more of a lady than the young girl that he used to see around The Ton or even from the girl that was courted by his brother years ago. That even seemed like a lifetime ago. Still beautiful as always.

“The family will just be glad to see you after some time. Sophy and Amelia are now in their first season so I’m sure they would love to pick your brain,” He grinned, looking past Helena to see the backs of his siblings in the midst of a conversation.

“My mother will forever be on my back about finding a wife until I do so. She only wants what is best I suppose. Tonight she suggests I dance at least once tonight,” he said before his grin got wider. “Miss Bexley, would you do me the honor of pleasing my mother and give me a dance tonight?”

girls like you

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[CapellaStargaze]

Morgan Davenport

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  Bellz neverbackdown Pyroclast SandraDeelightful
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Morgan rolled his eyes at August’s joke. Of course, even his friend knew the reputation people had made for him as a rake but he smiled along anyway. It wasn’t like he could deny the allegations now and the number wasn’t entirely untrue, just the gender of his endeavors. He returned smiles to Sophy and Amelia.

“It is a pretty nice night for sure,” he answered Amelia, his smile turning into a smirk. The season was where he needed to keep up appearances the most as did everyone else. Mothers and fathers were constantly pushing their children to make a perfect match whether it be for status or money.

As if his thoughts needed confirmation, up walked an older gentleman with a younger man who looked to be his son. Morgan gave a diplomatic smile to the man as he introduced himself as the Earl of Cork and his son, Edmund. Morgan’s eyes lingered probably longer than they should’ve on the nervous but handsome man in front of him. He was almost too distracted to catch his sister's quick witted outburst. His head turned to look at her, her eyes daring anyone to speak on her sticking up for Sophy. Morgan sighed. He would be lucky if he survived this season. Lucky for him, Sophy agreed to dance with Edmund anyway.
Morgan knew better than to correct his sister but he also knew better than to let it go. So to avoid both, he turned to Amelia. “Can’t let you lose out on a dance, Lady Amelia. May I take a space on your dance card?”

He gave a small bow, hoping August wouldn’t kill him in the process.

Bad Guy

VSQ

♡coded by uxie♡