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| My only hope for this night is to be amused...; Elizabeth Grey | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 5 2010, 06:31 PM (471 Views) | |
| William Spencer | Dec 5 2010, 06:31 PM Post #1 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William Spencer was not dancing. He was observing and trying to further his knowledge of which persons were associated with each other. Well, at least those he was even familiar with. It would be false truth to say he knew even a portion of the names even after a month since his return to court following his grandfather's death (and his trip to 'visit his mother' in France). He knew the important ones, and the names of the ones who had been all too eager to insult him for his French mother. He'd not forget either, but right now was not the time to be making enemies. He had enough problems without adding to them because of his rather immense pride. He could muster some semblance of control at the very least for now. Well, perhaps he could. William couldn't help the smirk that formed over his lips, nor a barely contained chuckle as Lady Elizabeth Grey unleashed her tongue on Boleyn in a way that he was quite sure was NOT what Boleyn had in mind. "Touche," he whispered, thinking no one close enough to hear his muttered French. He usually was incredibly diligent in not using his native tongue. "Point to the lady," he continued, chuckling to himself. He followed them with his eyes for as long as was advisable, before he turned his head to look for his sister. That was one of his main purposes for not attempting to divert himself by dancing. He needed to make sure his sister didn't leave a simpering, crying mess. The duties of a brother. William was quite bored standing there in finery with his hands resting gently behind his back. One would think he was deformed by the way he was most entirely ignored. Invariably, his eyes found themselves back observing Elizabeth Grey, squinting his eyes a bit to try and ascertain if she was still holding her attacker at bay. It appeared to be so, but he really could not tell. Perhaps it was his imagination putting a very colourful twist on the interaction, including imitated voices and all. As the dance ended, he couldn't help the bemused and satisfied smirk that crossed his fair features, making his thick lower lip almost quiver trying to hold back a chuckle. |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 5 2010, 07:02 PM Post #2 |
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Elizabeth had indeed come to this evening festivities with every intention of being amused. Amused and perhaps, slightly intoxicated. It had been a long month, what with her brother returning from battle and then promptly imprisoned. Everything she had done to keep the Grey name upstanding whilst he fought in foreign lands suddenly gone, all because the Marquess of Dorset had trusted the wrong man. It frustrated her to no end, but there was nothing she could do about it. Except get her brother out of the dank and dreary tower. And succeed she did, managing to get the King to pardon him all while keeping their alliance with the Duke of Norfolk intact. But she didn't want to speak on any of that this evening. In fact, if she happened upon someone that knew nothing of their circumstances, all the better. She had decided on dancing as her past time, though it had taken several chalices of wine to seduce her onto the dance floor. That a couple men that caught her fancy. But it was dancing that she loved more than anything, so when Sir George Boleyn ended up as her dancer partner she was none to pleased. It was hardly what she was looking for. Any time spent with him would only create more scandal. Precisely the thing she had meant to get away from in attending tonight's events. As always, her tongue was sharp and her wit even sharper as he taunted her. He wanted her. He made no qualms about such things, really. Sometimes, he was even more direct than he needed to be, for Boleyn's desire spoke not only in his words, but his eyes. But as she danced, she felt the lilt of a stare. And so when she found an appropriate moment, she turned her head just so to get a glance at just exactly who had taken a fancy to her dancing. Staring back at her were mischievous blue eyes that she'd never seen before. That alone intrigued her. The fact that he was handsome, oh, well... that just made it even better. He was the sort of 'thing' she was looking for this evening. Surely he had not heard of her brother's ridiculous indiscretions? When the song at ended and she ever so politely excused herself from the womanizing Boleyn, she found herself drawn to the mysterious man who had taken it upon himself to watch her from his mighty place. But not before fetching herself and him a chalice of the latest and greatest mulled wine that His Majesty had brought in for such an occassion. Finally nearing him she curtesyed, balancing the two full chalices exceptionally well (for two glasses in) and bowed her head. "My lord, you must be new around here or you would have emboldened yourself to steal me away from the ubiquitous George Boleyn. It would have been very much appreciated, I assure you. Especially with company such as yourself." The tone implied was all but obvious and any less of a man would not have caught on. From the way he had looked at her earlier, however, she figured he was the sort of man to understand her completely. She handed off the extra chalice to him and smiled that charming smile all of court knew her for. "Lady Elizabeth Grey, sister of the Marquess of Dorset." |
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| William Spencer | Dec 5 2010, 08:09 PM Post #3 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William would be doing himself a mental disservice to try and deny that he found Lady Elizabeth Grey to be anything other than incredibly attractive. He was well versed in all the Arts, and he could find within her a literary sort of beauty. One not confined to simply physical things. There was something about the way she carried herself, about her facial expressions, and, of course, about her episode of biting wit which made him think that. Perhaps he was simply starting to become completely mentally addled from dealing with his sisters. He was quite sure his elder sister was enjoying the liberties of being widowed some months back by teasing about any man who would speak to her. Being his half-sister and fully English, she had no problem getting male attention. William could likely have her married off straight-away. It was his younger sister Elizabeth who was more problematic. Of course, it did not hurt that she'd spend more years in France than he had, and she was younger than he. His thoughts, of course, alternated between the two subjects depending upon whom he was looking at while they were dancing. William was sorely in need of some significant form of interaction that did not absolutely infuriate him. His ability to hold his tongue about some things was dwindling more and more as days wore on. Lack of intelligent conversation would do that to a man, at least, to Will. His sisters did not count as intelligent conversation. What he was not particularly prepared for was for previous aforementioned lady to start walking directly toward him carrying wine. Immediately, his hackles went up inside his head. Assuredly...Assuredly, this was not some ill-formed joke at his expense organized by herself and her former companion. Because, really, it was growing a bit tiresome. Not that it showed on his face. It was hard to be displeased when there was something simply so...pleasant...to look at. He was quite impressed with her ability to manage both glasses as she curtsied. He returned the gesture with a bow of his own. "My lady," he greeted, before his eyebrow went up, closely followed by the other eyebrow as she spoke to him. His amusement shone in his eyes, but in the back of his mind, he was really thinking that once he let out a full sentence and she heard the very apparent (although slight) French accent in his deep voice, she was going to promptly find some way to excuse herself as fast as politely possible. Rumours had a way of circulating, and he was quite certain that his inheritance of his grandfather's titles was of remark enough to have been talked about scandalously. William was beginning to wonder if being a bastard would have been better! "New after a fashion," he replied, "I've been in absence for some time, or I might have known that some boldness would be appropriate. Besides, you seemed to be enjoying yourself immensely. Hardly the way to make the acquaintance of a lady, taking her away from her amusements and merriments." William's adams apple bobbed a bit, as he tried to stifle a bit of a chuckle. "You are most gracious, but now I am uncertain I can take anything you say as truth, my lady." He accepted the proffered chalice from her gently, almost daintily. He always found the French more delicate in mannerisms. It was a characteristic that he maintained. "Many thanks, I am suddenly struck by the thought that I might greatly need this," he confessed. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment as she introduced herself. He knew he had heard the name, but he couldn't recall in consequence of what exactly. He was foreign to this as much as he was also foreign to an extent. "Lord William Spencer, Earl of Wilmington...and useless others, you understand," he replied, as if it was rather a given he had other titles, and he had no desire to list them. Hopefully, she'd find some wit in that instead of poor taste. |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 5 2010, 10:28 PM Post #4 |
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Well then. Elizabeth had managed to find herself the only Frenchman in the room had she? Is that why, despite his handsome features, the man stood alone? It was almost a shame for such good looks to be wasted on such a nationality, was it not? In all honesty, for her dignity she should have excused herself from the conversation. But his witty repartee left the woman wanting more. More of what, she wasn't quite sure, but she wasn't quite ready to quit his company just yet. And to talk as if he would have been ruining her fun. That was just pure cruelty. She had a feeling he knew very well that she had not wanted to to spend her time with Boleyn. It was just the way he said it that made her feel that way. Or perhaps it was the bit of a chuckle that almost came out. Whatever it was, she saw right through it. "Taking what I say as truth can, indeed get you into trouble for even I'm never quite sure when I mean what I say." She bit back at his wit with equal vigor. This man, though French, was more than she had expected. More than most men at court, really. So many of them had pleasant faces and then... well, that was it. This man had intrigue going for him and so, even though it seemed some would not touch him with a ten foot pole, Elizabeth found herself standing by him. What she was thinking, she really didn't know. No. That was a lie. She knew exactly what she was doing. And in a rare moment, she just didn't care what it meant. She took the moment to really get a good look at him. He was handsome in that rugged, worldly sort way. Not in the way some men were, which was more to say they'd never left the island they were born on. The fact that he was different made her like him all the more. The fact that she was insanely attracted to him didn't hurt either. And she so very much was. In fact, it almost annoyed her how much she was. It also almost left her speechless. Almost. He wouldn't be so lucky. He took the chalice and thanked her for it. She smiled pleasantly and nodded in reply. "Are you saying, my lord, that to converse with a lady such as myself that you need imbibe?" Elizabeth added a heavy, decadent layer of sarcasm on her words, a smirk chimed on her lips and she looked him directly in the eyes. And oh what eyes they were. Maybe it was the mulled wine, talking. Yes, that was it. But as if he hadn't caught already, though he had, he threw her for yet another loop. And all he did this time was say his name. This time she was sure a confused look half made it on to her face. It was quickly recomposed. He was English titled AND had a French accent? Who was this man? "And useless others? I think not. With an accent like that, monsieur, I do believe you'll need all the titles you can get." And then, as if a light went on in her head, she realized just who exactly he was. The rumors around court had been fierce and wild. His Grandfather, well known. Even more well known? His affinity for gowns. Elizabeth bit down lightly on her lip and leaned in to speak so that no one else could hear. "And, Lord Spencer, if I'm to believe the rumors... you can wear a dress better than myself." She pulled away so that he could take a good look at her in her dress a mischievous glint in her eyes. "If that's possible." |
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| William Spencer | Dec 5 2010, 11:11 PM Post #5 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William was fairly certain he saw that look of recognition in her face. Then again, he was so very used to that sort of a look, that even the slightest reaction to him being 'French' was so very obvious to him. It was difficult enough to maneuver around court, but the level of difficulty went up for him. Even though he came from a prominent family, he was assuredly a legitimate son from the wrong marriage. William simply was not...driven enough to be that proficient at correcting or downplaying the stain being half-french left on him. However, she didn't leave. Curious. Very curious. Perhaps a bold Englishwoman? Simply astounding. "If I cannot take what you say as truth without trouble, my lady, I am quite certain I am already there, because logic then presents that I cannot trust you when you say that you are not sure when you mean what you say. Whether that makes you exceedingly and punishingly honest or hopelessly deceptive and cruel, I may never know," he quipped back, before he raised the glass to his lips and eyed her over the top as he took a sip. She was close enough to him that he could fully appreciate the fineness of her features. Truly delectable; however, William needed to make sure he fully knew what he was doing before he started any liaisons of a certain nature. It might give a false sense of him being exceedingly proper or gentlemanly when that wasn't necessarily the truth. One indiscretion three years prior with the wrong personage's daughter had been enough learning for him, even if it was a fine excuse for his grandfather to basically dismiss him back to France for awhile. Although, he had then been basically forced to take his sister back with him. As things stood, William needed a far better idea of who was connection to whom and what that might mean for him if he got intimately acquainted with anyone. There were enough pretty young ladies of little consequence for him to prey on, really, if it came to that. He certainly didn't fancy any long periods of abstinence. He chuckled a bit as she queried him about needing to imbibe to speak with her. "Never, my lady, simply that after an evening of being mostly pointedly ignored, a conversation might parch me enough for it to be necessity." A half-smile crossed his face. He could trade witty banter with the best of them. That smirk on her lips. Ah the sweet challenge of a woman with a brain! A string of praises went off in his brain in French at this fortuitous occasion. And now it was quite unmistakable. She must have thought him completely French, as most did once he opened his mouth. Instead of being completely rude, which he was far too accustomed to, she stayed rooted by him in their conversation. Ha! And she called him 'monsieur'! "Ah, mademoiselle, très drôle! Tout à fait originale*!" he exclaimed, although in a quiet voice, putting fake surprise and delight on his face. "As you can see by the company I keep, everyone is quite aware of who I am, and the titles do not seem to be aiding my solitude and the social stigma of having a French mother who was not just some woman but of quite noble birth. I see little consequence there." He could even make fun of himself when appropriate. It was not like it was a startling secret she would not hear. William may as well apprise her himself. It might avoid-------. THAT. When taken out of context and also out of the court of France, which was admittedly much...different, sounded far more scandalous than it really had been. It was not like he was he only man in a gown. William opened his mouth and looked quickly to the side for a moment, his eyes narrowing briefly in examination of his words, before he looked back at her. The image of her biting her lip was ingrained in his mind. "Rumours are so decidedly delicious, are they not?" He allowed his eyes to travel downward for a brief moment considering her posture was daring him to, and he was not one to disappoint or back down. He leaned in to her, closer to hear ear. "But Lady Elizabeth, do you really find my assets as fine as yours?" He coupled this statement by running his free hand up his chest and grabbing where his breast would be if he had proper female breasts. *very funny! Quite original!" |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 6 2010, 12:21 PM Post #6 |
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Elizabeth should have run. To some at court, the man might as well been a leper and yet, much to her more logical side's dismay... there she still stood. The man was French. The man was known for wearing dresses and nothing about him would do anything to help her cause. In fact, this man could most likely harm her cause. But there she stood, firmly planted and unable to peel herself away. She had never been a woman that traveled. She had never even been one to converse with the French while they were at court for that matter. Everything about Elizabeth bled British and yet she could not pry herself away from Lord William's intriguing gaze. If God had created a man that was everything she should not want, this one was most certainly it. But why, oh why did he have to be so attractive and witty? It was all Elizabeth could do to keep her wits about her. She needed to remain in control of everything or she was worried she would have control of nothing. The simple truth of it was that, beyond all reason and logic, Elizabeth Grey was a woman intrigued and she wasn't quite sure there was much about that she could do. " Deceptively cruel or exceedingly honest...." She nearly hummed the words in thought, though more to allow him to mull them over than herself. Of course he spoke of logic in the most illogical way possible, she followed however and could only shake her head ever so slightly at the madness. He was, of course, right... but she'd never say it. And it was in her modus operandi to keep a man guessing. She was sure this one already was and so she did not see fit to prolong the topic further. Perhaps she had some of her own intrigue up the sleeves of the heavily weighed down dress. But the way that he looked at her over his glass made her realize that he was doing to her what most men failed to do. Make her want him. That was a feeling she must banish altogether because that simply was not an option. Ever. "You must make use of your eccentricities, Lord William. I don't want to like you, but I still find myself here. A mystery is it not? Perhaps others would feel the same, they are just not as bold as I?" Elizabeth chuckled lightly at the thought. Perhaps she was right, perhaps she was wrong but standing on the sidelines was no way to get into the game. And if he wanted to enjoy his time at court, he needed to well, not be the one everyone looked at and whispered about. "I am not saying that you're not in a precarious situation because, my lord, you very much are." Elizabeth was nothing if she wasn't blunt when she felt it necessary. Somehow, she did not think this man would take offense. But when the topic of his dress wearing came up, she found herself oddly interested. She shouldn't have been and perhaps that's what made her all the more intrigued... or perhaps it was the way the word 'deliciously delicious' rolled from his tongue. Either way, dear Elizabeth Grey was entranced. Especially after he so boldly 'groped' himself. Had they been in more private arrangements, she would have found herself being even bolder than he. But she was first and foremost a lady and would not give in. "Your rumors make English rumors seem decidedly boring. Delicious..." She paused, making sure to accentuate the word. "Would be a good way to describe you're own... rumors, that is." Then she bit her lip again. Was that a nervous tick? She wasn't even sure because she wasn't quite able to pinpoint a time where she'd felt like this before. "As for who has the better figure... I do think that I'd put yours up against mine any day. That is, of course, in a competition to decide the winner." She smirked, slightly... though it had more the essence of a smile. Elizabeth Grey did not want to seem too devious to those eyes whom she knew were upon them as they talked. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 6 2010, 07:26 PM Post #7 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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This one! She was an absolute godsend, instantly mending his former horridly bored state of mind. William could help but chuckle in a bit more lively in a way as she said that he should use his eccentricities to his advantage and that she should not like him. "Somehow, my lady, I do not suppose that my eccentricities will have the same effect on any of the gentlemen here as they do on you," he replied rather saucily. "Not that I do not enjoy female company." He lifted his glass again, shaking his head a bit in amusement, as he took another drink. He took his spare hand out from behind his back and pushed a lock of near black hair out of his face. "How very kind of you to remind me quite poignantly. Precarious indeed, growing moreso." Where had this jewel been hiding for the last many weeks? He was quite lucky that she was bold and had come up to him, because of else his fortune would have found him a wall ornament. Many times, that is entirely what he felt like. Add to her biting wit the tortures she was putting him through with her closeness and physical charms. She knew how to move around a man to tantalize him, and he could not help but find himself imagining the details of the extent of her abilities. She had a graceful coquettishness, and he found it rather magnetic. The way she said 'delicious' and ran her teeth over her delicious lips was nearly enough to make him clear his throat uncomfortably. It was simply torturous. He held back, though, instead making something of a cross between a 'Mmm' and a 'Hmm' very quietly. "Since you fancy the emboldened, my lady, rumours are not the only things the French do deliciously making the English version seem decidedly more boring," he whispered, his eyes a bit lidded as if faking some sort of sensuousness with a dose of humour. "Only the rumours? Not my assets? Such a pity," and with that he took a liberal gulp as if intensely disappointed while his eyes glittered with merriment looking sideways at her over the chalice. Had he poor manners or really, had he still had wine in his mouth at the time of her next words, he might have choked or spit it on accident. Thankfully, he just lowered the glass as if catching on to some sort of scheme of hers. One side of his mouth went up and he feigned being shocked and appalled. "My lady! I do think you are trying to see me in less than a gown at the pretense of judging my figure against one which I am certain I cannot compare in the least! How absolutely scandalous and sly of you. Although I have been told, my legs are quite pretty." |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 6 2010, 11:00 PM Post #8 |
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Elizabeth had wanted escapism this night. Is this what she had asked for? This man standing before her now? He was nearly a figment of her imagination. She'd never heard or seen such things from a man in her entire life. Everything about him was inappropriate, playful and it was bringing out something here that she'd never managed to let herself feel. But this was not a matter of letting herself feel anything. She just felt it. Pure and simple. Sure, George Boleyn was handsome. Sure, there was something about being pressed up against a wall by him that she liked. The attention of a good looking man? But there was also the fact that he'd done it a million times to countless other women that left her wanting when it came to the Boleyn brother. Almost as if it bored her, yet she always found herself letting him tease her. George Boleyn was the source of much consternation for Lady Elizabeth and she would leave it at that for now. But Lord William Spencer was, she could at least admit this much to herself, different. And not just because he was French, though it somewhat admittedly disgusted her. Though it was clear he wasn't fully French, well, not with a name like William Spencer. And his accent, though there, was not as fully pronounced as she had heard in the past. No, he was unique. A rarity in court, where everyone seemed overly enthralled with the Italians, simply because it was the thing to do. Simply because the Queen was one. Elizabeth had not been so wooed over by them. But it really was no matter, because she stuck to English blood. No, no... she now found herself enamored with a man she simply should not feel anything towards. Logic fought feeling, each one edging the other out for a moment's time before the lead changed yet again. The adrenaline that spurred her onwards was addicting. In fact, she was feeding off it now... her wit pushing her farther and farther towards a ledge she could jump from, should she want to. Lord William Spencer was something she wanted as her own, though she wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. Well, she did know it meant one thing: That she wasn't about to leave. Not now. Not while it seemed she had him interested. She didn't have a plan for... well, where all of this was leading, but for the moment she didn't care. "Since you fancy the emboldened, my lady, rumours are not the only things the French do deliciously making the English version seem decidedly more boring." Her eyes nearly widened at that. It seems he could match her wit, as well as sense her desire. It made her feel... exposed. And it was a feeling she wanted more of. Perhaps, it was the wine talking. "You speak as if you've been with an Englishman, my lord." And she smirked at that, over a sip from the chalice. "So you admit that you like my figure? For using so many words, you are rather blunt, Lord William." She said with her typical haughtiness and smile. Another long, dallying sip. "And I rather like it... however, I do believe you've twisted my simple, innocent words into sins of the flesh. I am not a lady of the French court, monsieur, I feel the need to remind you." And then she winked. How the woman played so sinfully coy, not even she would understand. But she did. And she did it oh-so well. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 7 2010, 12:01 AM Post #9 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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There were few women who could stimulate his wit and handle his sharp tongue, not that women couldn't benefit from the softness of it at some times as well. However, he had never met a woman who attempted to match it. Lady Elizabeth Grey was quick and beautiful, and he would be lying if he said her gracefully coquettish mannerisms were not making him want to find out more about her. She was bold without being crass and forward. She dangled just enough in front of him to separate herself from the social repression without damning herself. But William could ill afford to be rash or impulsive or wanting. Not without knowledge. The responsibility of taking over the estate was wearing on a bit of his ability to just exist as he had when in France. The same nonchalant hedonism could not be afforded him until he had secured a better reputation than being 'that French Spencer'. He had far lesser Spencer relations who were of less consequence who did not have that sort of moniker and social stain simply because they were English. He was diligently trying to ascertain how he was going to purge himself of the problem of having a French mother. He could not afford to thoughtlessly pursue something and perhaps block a road that he might later need. Meaning, he had to temper himself to NOT want to try and bed her, and for some strange reason, he felt that such an action would ruin the deliciousness of what was transpiring. Almost like their banter, it would be ruined if it was two loudly spoken points said rashly. He found the build up pleasing. It would seem wrong to want to bed her just to assuage his very insatiable sexual needs. There were plenty of others for something so base and simple. This was not simple. It was delicious. To be savored. To be enjoyed. Not to be eaten like a barbarian. Perhaps toyed with a little? Ah! Just like she was doing to him right now. The corners of his eyes crinkled a bit as she asked him if he had carnal knowledge of men. Not precisely what he had prepared himself to converse on that night. "I cannot tell you all my secrets, Lady Grey," he replied, purposefully looking about as if it was some sort of gossip, and the expression on his face playful and matching that idea. His chest rumbled a bit with a soft chuckle he held in as one corner of his mouth went up. "Perhaps I have. Perhaps some of the other rumours are true. Despite your wicked attempt at finding an explanation, the more simpler one could be I've bedded ladies who've been with English gentleman. The comparison perhaps running in my favour." He paused and looked thoughtful, "Although I wonder what made your first thoughts go to something so indecent." He smirked in return, draining the remainder of his drink. He was, indeed, parched from actually being stimulated. "I appreciate beauty in all it's forms, my lady," he replied, "It is no sin to appreciate the wonders of all things God has made and given us in nature. There should be no shame in a man expressing such thoughts...But I am rather blunt by nature, or rather honest." His eyes were trained on her as she moved to take another drink. The wine leaving a pleasant tinge of stain on her lips, almost the colour that would go along with being kissed, although they would admittedly be a bit swollen if she had been kissed. Or at least if she had been properly kissed...as in by him. "Equating my judgment with sins of the flesh might be incorrect...at least at this time. Perhaps more aptly described as sins of the mind, mademoiselle." He smiled a bit more and then blinked, thinking that perhaps a little more gentlemanly charm was called for. Perhaps a little. "But if I've offended your feminine sensibilities, my lady, I humbly beg your forgiveness." He would, of course, leave off with something that was both suggestive and so proper on the surface. He was enjoying this perhaps to much. |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 7 2010, 04:55 PM Post #10 |
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If Lord William Spencer was anything like the French Court, she began to wonder just what exactly took place in their rival country's palaces. It was not a judgmental thought, but a wandering, curious sort of thought that made her all the more interested in the man before her. As if she needed any more interest. Already she had felt as if she'd gone too far, even though she had no intention of doing so originally. But the combination of his smile, smirks and smoothness was near toxic to the english woman. Perhaps she was more bored at court than she had realized she had been, since she had taken an interest in such a man. There was no where good that this could lead though, could it? No. That wasn't even a question. She was bound to her own promise to herself and god that she would not sleep with anyone besides her future husband. But ... No, she had to stop herself. When he said that he could not tell her all his secrets, the lady found herself wanting to know each and everyone. Why did he intrigue her so? Why? Why? Why? But she couldn't let him know. So instead, she found herself giving him the slightest hint of a pout. Almost playing her disappointment off as nothing, when it was everything. It was surprising to her how affected she felt and it only challenged her abilities to not give it all away to him in an accidental blush of her cheeks or the inability to look him in the eye. She didn't want him to realize just how much it all moved her, because she was honestly afraid of the repurcussions. What then, Elizabeth? You sleep with the Frenchman and tarnish the reputation you've built so carefully? She chided herself inwardly. "I only asked for one secret, my lord. Not all," she managed to wistfully correct him, offering a confident smirk with it, so as to soften the minor blow. But then when he said 'perhaps I have,' she was nearly stunned. She had said the comment to be scandalous and now he was admitting that it could, perhaps, be true? Did he enjoy the company of men in bed? Would he enjoy hers? No such Englishman would ever, even in jest, admit to bedding a man. And much to her frustration, her eyes widened. Then he went on to suggest a more realistic, in her estimation, reason as to what he'd know the skills of Englisman. Or, in his opinion, lack thereof. Not that her one experience with a man had been all that convincing. "A lady can have an imagination, can she not?" Then he spoke words reminiscent of a poet. They were convincing and beautiful, all at the same time and she couldn't help but find herself agreeing, though perhaps not in all the same ways he meant the words. Not that she would even think of such a thing, but only out of her innocence in such matters. It flattered her to think that perhaps she might be included in such thoughts of beauty. Especially when it came to him. Now she found herself lost in the utter blueness of his eyes. It was only then that she realized that he may be looking at her in the same manner she was looking at him. Just the way he looked at her, fueled something torturous in Elizabeth. As if she was a ripened fruit on a tree and he admired her from afar. As if she had no say as to whether or not he chose her or not. The vulnerability in that moment shook her at her core, but she found the feeling addicting, akin to when she knew she should not have yet more wine and indulging anyhow. And she fought the urge to look away. And managed to do so. His next words proved exactly what she had feared. That their thoughts on each other were far from godly. Her heart beat harder and she found herself lost in another sip of wine. Anything to break their eye connection without seeming obvious. "My feminine sensibilities?" She chuckled at the notion. "If you talked with my brother you would find that despite my figure, I am more of a man than most would want me to be, my lord. And I do not accept for forgiveness, for there is nothing to forgive. Simple as that." |
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| William Spencer | Dec 7 2010, 06:15 PM Post #11 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William was finding himself memorizing the small movements of the muscles in her face, and how her expressions changed and varied, bringing interest to her face. So many of the English were so inexpressive. Not her. When she corrected him, he looked away for a moment, needing to not be mesmerized by her when answering. She was not going to cajole him into giving away something he should be more discrete about, even with the rumours abounding. It was then that William caught sight of his brother. His brother going off to dance...with...a...married woman. His jaw clenched for a brief moment, making his lower lip puff out a bit. His brother best remember himself. William was having a hard enough time since their grandfather had died with marrying off his sister, let alone a brother who refused to go into the church like he was supposed to. There wasn't anything wrong with dancing with someone who was married, but William knew exactly how his brother's mind worked. It concerned him. It only took him a few short seconds to process all that before he looked back at the proper object of his attention. "My apologies," he said to her, smiling warmly, "...and one secret, my lady, is all it takes for you to get the key to my other secrets. Unfortunately I must leave your imagination to run wild which is slightly concerning considering the indecency you have exhibited in your imagination." He was rather pleased with himself. It was all the merriment in the world to him at the moment. The festivities held little interest to him, given his circumstances. Most days held little interest to him in general. This moment, though, held all his interest. If it did not, he would be moving closer to observe his brother. He would shirk those responsibilities for once. William found her not some object to walk away from or to strike on at his will. She was entertaining and captivating, something he had not experienced in a woman in some time. He kept her gaze. He felt it significant, and he was enjoying himself. It was a simple pleasure that he was coming to appreciate more: enjoyment. It was simply somewhat rare these days. Her chuckle was like a reward, but her words were a bit (but not entirely) astonishing to him. He was not sure whether to reply in jest or in serious. He felt both appropriate and would not force himself to choose. "You must be better able at keeping secrets than I if you are by any measure more like a man than desirable..." he said in jest, but then his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he considered his next words. He looked to the side as if searching and then looked back at her for a moment with slightly parted lips before he added, "Most simply do not matter, do they?" He paused, a thoughtful look coming over his face again for a few seconds. He looked at her searchingly for a moment. "You are not too much of a man for me in any way I've notice. Any man feeling you a comparison to him in behavior, should be far more concerned about what that says of himself...In fact, I do believe I should ask you to dance. Quite rude of me for making such a lovely lady stand on the side. Forgive me for the slight." |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 8 2010, 05:47 PM Post #12 |
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Unregistered
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If Elizabeth was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit that being in any sort of close proximity to would only stoke whatever it was she felt. It nearly bothered her that in so few words exchanged she had managed to actually become so interested. But every time she raised him in chips, he’d raise the stakes even hire. Most men would eventually burn out or become bored when she didn’t make it seem like a torrid night in their quarters was a head of them—at least not with her. But even though she’d brought him close to the edge and the backed away again… there he stood, still besides her. It was a pleasing thought, really. She was, in her own subtle, perfected way teasing him in every possible way imaginable… all except touching him. She smiled, angled her body and posture just so, fed him scandalously placid words. And if she did not touch him, she would be fine. That was the lady’s reasoning to herself, anyway. It was hard to give in when one wasn’t close enough to do so. That, and the fact that they were in front of God and a room full of people kept her perhaps wandering hands from getting her into further trouble. Then she noticed that he was suddenly distracted by something. Even if only for a moment. She glanced to try and take notice of what it was that had caught his attention, but she seemed to fail. Elizabeth turned her attention back to him before he turned back towards her. She met his gaze with her pleasant, engaging sort of smile. When he spoke of secrets, her smile morphed ever so slightly into a smirk. If he blinked, he would have missed it. “If what everyone is saying about you is true, I can’t imagine you have very many secrets, for it cannot be a secret if everyone knows, I should think. And if you do have more secrets than I should think them of the most devious kind.” An almost glint of mischievousness shone in her eye, but it too was only for a moment. It was almost exhausting, this game they were playing. Elizabeth wasn’t one to lose, however, and the exhaustion was barely felt. What was smoothing over all her actions was the fantastic haze of wine she found herself in. Three glasses in and just now it she felt the tingle of inhibition settling upon her. The young woman was far from intoxicated, however. If anything, one would only notice the ever-so-slight rouging of her cheeks -- her speech and movement remained as graceful as ever. ”Yes you are quite right. Most find themselves self-important to an extreme which makes it nearly laughable. She leaned in closely, just for her next retort. ”But please be assured, I am most assuredly all woman, my lord.” So the wine was perhaps having a small effect on her, but it was so very blurred with her charms that it was nearly impossible to tell. “ Une danse? Sur une condition. Dites-moi un secret. Un bon secret.” The roguish nature of her request was paired perfectly with the subtle mischievousness in her voice. And Elizabeth had every intention of staying close to him for a short moment in time, but now she felt herself lingering just…a bit… longer. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 8 2010, 08:12 PM Post #13 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William very nearly missed her smirk. At is was, he was not sure that it had not been a figment of his imagination. Surely he was imagining. "Perhaps the rumours are not my secrets at all? Perhaps some are simply truths about my youth. Perhaps some outright lies and xenophobia, my lady...I do not claim to be a priest. That is left for my brother." He chuckled softly just a bit at her mischief. She was a mistress of it, he was quite certain, and he meant that in a good way. It was this sort of thing that he did not believe his brother could possibly appreciate. Her cheeks were becoming slightly pleasantly pink, making him wonder how beautiful she would look fully flushed and sated. He took in a breath through his nose, the pleasant image linger like a dream he had woken from and wanted to go back to. "When one is concerned solely with themselves, Lady Grey, they cannot react to the world around them and will forever walk in their own sphere," he said, standing still and tall, as if he stood by and lived by those words. "It is through humility and self-awareness that we realize our best purposes...I have yet to completely master that sort of thing," he confessed. Perhaps he did better than most in some areas. He had expected his request for a dance to be simple. He, for some crazy reason, expected it to proceed as any dance would, but it did not. She spoke to him in delicious French, tempting him with the familiarity of his first tongue and all the pleasant connotations of it. It was his youth now, and it was far more carefree than he was currently allowed. "My lady, are you asking me for the key to all of my secrets? The key to all my secrets in return for performing my duties of asking a lady to dance? A very intimate request, do you not agree?" he replied quietly, with an upturn of his eyebrow as the corner of one side of his mouth raised, and then the other until he wore a satisfied and amused smirk. William leaned just a fraction closer to her for his next words, almost close enough to feel the heat of her breath and the warmth of her body close enough to his. They were not indecently close or anything the like. Close enough for two people conversing against a backdrop of noise. "Vous avez ouvert le barrage de mes secrets...vous me saigner à sec*?" He turned his face more away from her ear so that he could look at her. "When I was a small boy, I was in a hunting accident with my father, and I watched him die...get killed by a boar...while my leg was trapped under my horse," he said in French in his smooth, soft voice, but with a tone that it was something difficult for him to divulge. However, one secret was the key to all of them as he'd said, so he continued, "I can never be a proper fighter, because I cannot hold anything that heavy in my right arm, from the same accident..." William stopped, searching her face to see if that was significantly enough of what she was looking for. It was not a deep, dark secret that no one knew, but it was a secret to him that he never wanted to talk about. It was weakness. He held up his hand to her. "I have give you a secret, my largest masculine weakness, my lady. Shall that suffice for the honour?" *You have opened the dam of my secrets...will you bleed me dry? |
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| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 9 2010, 03:50 PM Post #14 |
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Unregistered
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When he gave decent, plausible reasons as to where the rumors could have circulated or the general explinations as to the why they were formed in the first place she almost found herself agreeing. Perhaps she even did for a moment, but, for whatever reason, she wanted to believe that there was something else besides the same old pleasantries of the English Court that could interest her. The woman was English through and through and the company she kept exhibited the same qualities. When she had first walked up to him she had hardly expected the French accent, but there it was all the same. She should have run, but she did not. And most certainly, she should not have been teasing him and toying him as she was. But there was something about him that seemed daring and it emboldened her in a way. “I suppose that the more delicious the rumor, the more apt it is to be repeated… false though it may be. But everyone does so very much enjoy a rumor that is found to be true. It makes it all the more… délicieux. When it came to the man in front of her, she found herself more interested in listening rather than speaking. His English accent combined with the scandalous French influx in his words made his voice all the more sumptuous and superb. As if she could listen to it for days and now grow tired of it. She was beginning to find herself rather entranced by Lord William Spencer, but for now she would chalk it all up to intrigue and interest. She was hard pressed to think of anyone who wouldn’t be if they just gave him the chance. ”I am inclined to agree with you when it comes to people and their rather self-interested ways. I cannot say that I am wholly perfect in such an aspect however. To survive court, I find myself needing to be rather confident in my own pursuits. Humility…” She paused, in thought, her glance looking down to the floor momentarily. “And self-awareness… Well I am sure that most of us in this very room could use such a remedy. But I suppose if such a thing were to exist, we would find ourselves with fewer rumors to entertain ourselves with.” She turned her head just so, her eyes conveying the playfulness in her words. And then he called her request intimate. Just the way he said the word spread goose bumps across her skin. For a moment, she nearly regretting the attempt, especially as the way he drew nearer to her made her breathing uneasy. "Vous avez ouvert le barrage de mes secrets...vous me saigner à sec*?" The words seared into her as no other words had done so before. They were poetic and painful. Perhaps it was all a ploy. Perhaps he was so very good at ensnaring women with such meaningfully strung together words. But it left her breath caught in her throat and her heart nearly beating out of her chest. But when it came to her asking him to divulge a secret, she had expected him to tell her something mundane and humorous. She expected something sly that would easily discharge him of her condition and quickly get her to take her place back out on the floor. Instead, he nearly took her breath away with his honesty. It was an honesty and vulnerability that she had never seen in a man before. The English prided themselves in hiding such things and extoling only the most egotistical sorts of stories. She, like many other English woman, had been caught up in such things. There was a way a man should be and anything else was weakness was it not? William Spencer was simply different. There was no denying that. Could such a man be so many things all at once? “It very much does suffice. You flatter me with your honesty, Lord Spencer. I should hope that Hampton Court does not change you in that respect.” She set her chalice down, preparing herself for a dance. “So long as it does not affect your ability to dance, my lord, I find no fault with such a secret.” It was just in her personality to try and ease the slight tension in the conversation, though she hoped more than anything that he would not take offense to it, for offense was the last thing she intended. She knew that such a thing would be hard indeed for a man of their times, for holding a sword equaled masculinity in spades. But all she wanted him to know was that, dancing or not, she did not care whether or not he could wield a sword in battle. ”Shall we dance then?” She was more than equipped to escort herself out onto the floor, once the song that had been playing had ceased. Once she stood across from him, she curtseyed and suddenly they found themselves entranced in the dance. Finally once the movements ushered them into a part of the music where they would find each other rather close for the moment, she finally spoke. ”I have a secret, though it is nothing compared to yours.” The woman smiled and the choreography pulled them apart again for a few moments, before bringing them back together. “There is a man at court that I should find myself disliking… but in fact, I feel rather the opposite.” She swallowed and then found herself looking into his gaze… before the next part of the dance had them switching partners for a minute’s time. And she was glad for the respite, for being so close to William Spencer was nearly making it hard to breathe… or think. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 9 2010, 11:09 PM Post #15 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William smiled honestly as she spoke about humility and confidence. William thought that her logic that they were mutually exclusive was flawed. He did not find it to be so. Perhaps that was idyllic of him. The definitions of the words did not seem to signify one could not be both. "Confidence is indeed important, but I do not believe one cannot be both, my lady. Indeed, I believe the best of men can strive to be both. It is arrogance and humility which do not mix. Most are given to the fleeting fancy of all these at different times." He spoke as if it was clear that he had not achieved a delicate mix of any. Though he would never admit it, his confidence weakened on him in some of his worst private moment. He could never show it. "Ahh, God forbid would should not have idle whispers and cutting taunts to make amusement and entertainment for ourselves," he said, with a laugh, blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Of course, everything came back to his secrets. He fond himself most content to tell her a secret. It was true, though, what he had said. Now that he had told one, he was bound to tell more. There was something about the intimacy of such things which, once opened, could never be shut again. Whether she carefully bandaged him back up or allowed him to bleed dry was another question. As of now, she seemed content to ebb the flow. "You think me easily swayed by vultures? Or that I have ambitions and no means to get there but deceptions?" he asked, smiling, a huff of amusement coming out from between his lips as he considered the notion. William shouldn't need to curry favour, and being an opportunist, was merely waiting for his proper opportunity for action. He was, actually, quite convinced that his family name would be enough when the proper time came. He needed action, an action that would remove the french stain and make him undeniably English. He was in no hurry to sell his soul or his reputation or his family out of complete impatience. That was one thing which he could not afford to be impulsive with. "And of course it does not, my lady. I am quite a competent dancer. The affliction does not effect all movements," he said with a cunning smile, his lips parted slightly. As he stood across from her, William decided that this lovely woman had done him the good service of giving him a purpose other than being a wall ornament. For that, he was indebted. He bowed, graciously. He had a delicacy and elegance of movement that was also decided a bit French. When she was close to him, William found himself dallying close to her ear. He should like to see her with her hair down. He could see himself finding great comfort in burying his cheek or nose in it. That was decidedly not his usual thought when it came to women. Her words went right through him, leaving a wake of warmth behind. "Do you, my lady?" he asked. "Will you deign to divulge that secret to me?" Of course, the music dictated they part, despite the fact that his ears were tuned to her voice like a magnet, awaiting the release of sweet nothings to be drawn to them. He was not disappointed when they came back together. He was getting himself into trouble, and he found himself not having a care in the least. It had been too long since he had allowed himself the liberty of truly enjoying himself at court. His was a mind that could not sit idle. "There is? This is quite scandalous...shall I feel obliged to do something about this?" he asked, as if he was going to run off and defend her honour. However, he knew precisely what she was talking about. As they switched partners, William had a sly smile come over his face as he thought of a response. As they came back together, he took her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles softly as they continued. "And this man, does he come from a good, noble, and old family? Is he good looking? Worthy of a lady such as yourself?" |
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6:34 AM Jul 11