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mi amiga, mi amor, mio caro, ambulant; mary shelton!
Topic Started: Dec 30 2010, 03:51 AM (236 Views)
John de Vere
Unregistered

late January 1512

Winter. Such an overrated phenomenon, John de Vere couldn't even begin to explain. The snow wasn't pretty, the fields of ice weren't fun and the frosty air sure as Hell didn't feel good. As a matter of fact, it was nearly biting at every centimeter of exposed skin, whether that be his hands, neck or face. Damn England and its winters; whoever thought this was a season for delight and play were just plain liars. Everything was rotten or frozen, or rotten and frozen, and it was getting a little sore on his bored eyes. Even worse, it was only January. Cold months were still on their way. John groaned as he passed through his chambers, the skin on his face flushed from having met a carrier in Base Court.

"Have a bath drawn," he remarked simply, shrugging the fur coat from his shoulders and moving over to the metal pot suspended over the fireplace. "And do be sure it's hot this time." He added before retrieving the steaming kettle with two thick cloth rags and placing it on the brick encasing the yellow flames. As his page left the room, John poured a liberal cup of the tea and sipped it eagerly. It sizzled his tongue but he swallowed without grimace, nearly feeling the inside of his body thaw with each sip. Ahhh, yes. Perfect.

After finishing the tea, John stood from his knelt position before the fire and placed the empty cup on the nearest tabletop. Bending down, he pulled off each of his boots and kicked them aside, sure to be picked up later by his chambermaid. His hands then moved quickly down the front of his doublet, undoing the buttons and ties until he pulled it, and his thin white shirt along with it, from his torso. The cooler air nipped at his skin, and for a moment or two he wondered if patience here was key. Patience for the brass tub to be brought and hot water poured in it, patience to just leave your warm clothes on until something warmer arrives. John sighed as he stepped just a bit closer to the emanating fire, ignoring the hundreds of tiny bumps rising over his exposed arms and shoulders as the cold further implored him.

Perhaps a little unamused by himself, John went for another cup of tea and this time sipped it slowly.. waiting, bidding his time until the boy arrived with that blasted bath. Though the stack of parchment on his desk behind him beckoned, the Earl was able to ignore it with a broad back and chilled skin. Politics could wait for him and his freaking bath.
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Mary Shelton
Unregistered

Mary Shelton had every intention of visiting her good friend William Parr, now that she had returned back to court. So, with a succulent red apple in hand that had caught her eye in the Great Hall, she had started to make her way towards his rooms. It was strange being back at court again. Everything was so very different. She did not mind the lowering in rank. In fact, if anything, it allowed her to be more herself. She had reached her pinnacle of power and now she was in the downswing. That was just fine with her. She already had the reputation for being the lady-in-waiting who found it hard to walk the line. She had a penchant for laughter, poetry and men. Honestly, she was lucky that her sister could look past her faults and accept her for the woman that she was. The Queen had been her best friend. There would never be another like her in her life.

The soft crunch of the apple broke the silence in the hallway as she bit tenderly into it. The sweetness was the exact pick-me-up she needed to move on from such sad thoughts. It was hard not to dwell on them, however. She had no inclination as to how her life would go from this point. Mary would indulge herself a bit before settling down and marrying, she knew that much. And surely there would be a man out there who would marry a woman who had been sister to a queen. But she didn't worry herself with such thoughts as she bit into her apple again. At this time, she was perplexed by the maze of hallways. She had been fairly confident which room was William's and yet... when she took a moment to stop and look around, she suddenly became very ... not so confident. A small pout on her lips formed as the hand holding the apple sat against her hip against her blue velvet gown and her fingers tapped lightly at her chin.

A few steps forward and she found felt as if she found some familiarity again. Mary smiled and bit into her apple again. Yes, yes, this seemed right. One more turn to the right and she was again sure of herself. Had she become so unfamiliar to Hampton Court in her absence? It was nearly embarrassing. But she was quickly passed the thought as she turned towards a door, which she felt was most assuredly his. She knocked at the door, just to make sure she wasn't interrupting anything. But no response came. Her brow furrowed quizzically and then she tried again. It was Mary's mischievous curiosity that led her hand to the door and pushed it open with ease.

It was a totally improper thing to do, she would even admit to herself later on. But she just couldn't help herself. She wanted so very much to see a friendly face who wouldn't speak of her sister and the past. The ethereal redhead stepped in, looking around interestingly to her surroundings. The crackle of the fire gave away William's presence in his chambers, however, and she smirked a bit. She had been ignored! What a slight against her! She stepped quietly over to the second part of the rooms, her hand covering her eyes so as not to see anything 'improper.' He was probably going to kill her for this. Ah, well. She'd deal with the consequences later.

"You must be rather unfit to be seen, my lord..." She paused for a second, just to peek between her fingers and.... "OH MY HEAVENS!" THAT MAN was not whom she had expected to see. Instead of the boyish William Parr, her eyes laid upon a very half-undressed John de Vere. Could there have been a bigger mix-up? Had she really gotten his room so very wrong? Oh god. What had she done? And even though she should have probably made her leave and escaped the horribly embarrassing situation, well... she couldn't just walk away from him as mortified as she was. She cleared her throat and swallowed. "It would seem I've happened upon the wrong set of rooms, my Lord Oxford." She added a fun sort of chuckle at the end. How could she not? She was stating the obvious and he'd probably thing she was absolutely insane and daft. Then she couldn't help herself, but to admire the rather pleasing figure in front of her. For poetical purposes, of course. And then, as if she was completely comfortable, she took another bite from her apple. There was no saying that Mary Shelton was like any other woman at court. And she rather liked that.
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John de Vere
Unregistered

With his cup of tea in one hand and his metal fire-poker in the other, John stood rather motionlessly in front of the flames, stirring mindlessly the embers beneath the still-solid logs. The dark hue of his eyes remained trained on the yellow glow, his expression uninterested but obvious of his mind wandering elsewhere. Perhaps off to no where particular, but the fire seemed to have put him at sort of ease. A trance, if you will. He stared blankly and poked at the embers, having completely missed the knock at his door. He sipped casually from his cup, savoring the tea and sighing contently. If there had been a knock, it could be none other than his page, having readied his bath in the adjoining room. If that be the case, the boy would walk through on his own any second now.

And sure enough, the door behind him slowly swung open, finally distracting the Earl from his thoughts as he pivoted to face what he thought would be his employed. The voice of a woman had been the absolute last thing he had expected, words spewing from her succulent lips as if she'd known him all along. As if she'd been waiting to find him here. But that certainly had not been the case as she realized that intruding upon the Earl of Oxford hadn't exactly been her intentions. His eyebrows lifted in mild surprise at her exclamation, standing there perhaps a little unfazed as he quickly appraised her. He glanced around for a moment, pondering a shirt in these most unseemly of times. But these were his chambers, and she had been the one to impose so profusely, without even a word of warning. Mary Shelton would have to deal with the consequences.

"Yes, yes it seems you have.." he replied plainly, turning his eyes back to the lighter ones of hers. The reflection of the fire blazed in her blue depths, and as she took a bite of her apple, the Earl could not help but again lift his eyebrows it what was now subtle amusement. Very casually he looked down at placed aside the fire-poker, his movements smooth and hardly forced.. as if the former Queen's sister wasn't standing there in his open rooms, looking at him as if he owed her something. As if the sight pleased her. He smirked to himself as he sipped at his tea, glancing at her over the glass brim of his cup before placing it on the table and finally bending at his waist towards her. "Always a pleasure though, to have company." He spoke breathlessly, his tone a little indifferent despite the endearing words. "And from the very Lady Mary Shelton?" John grinned haphazardly. "Welcome back to Court, dear Lady."

He turned then and went to his desk, briefly eying over the stack of parchment lined on either ends. His fingertips tapped inquisitively at the wood as he stood there, glancing at things without a single thought attached. "Do tell, Lady Shelton," he went on, still busying his eyes with the work ahead of him. "I do know this must be of an inconvenience to you, what with not finding whom you are originally in search for," whoever that could of been, John didn't even care. He was still too bemused with the thought of this little meeting. "But I hope you are not of disappointment. Though.." he finally brought his eyes back up to her, the depths of his now suddenly firm yet wittingly imploring. "I do wonder if your initial companion would have been as pleased to have you arrive so unannounced. Very intriguing, my Lady... very intriguing indeed."
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Mary Shelton
Unregistered

Mary wondered to for a moment why she simply hadn't apologized and excused herself from her error. And oh what an error it had been. And was it so wrong that the only answer she had managed to come up within herself is that she rather liked the closeness that the moment brought. The realness of life and the assuredness that she was very much alive. And the undeniably handsome man standing in front of her was not a figment of her imagination. How could she walk away from this moment? It was that realization that made her realize that she should not question it at all, but instead latch on to it for all that it was worth.

It was obvious by his greeting that he was not embarrassed and that eased her greatly. And it also seemed as if he did not mind that she was standing there as he was half-clothed and most likely preparing for a bath. She did not know the Earl of Oxford well, but suddenly she wanted to know him all the more. The words he spoke, however, nipped playfully at her conscience. There was a flatness to them and yet, she knew it was not meant to frighten her away. "I thank you for your welcome, my Lord. And please accept my apologies for intruding on your privacy. It was most unconsciously done as I was just wishing to pay a surprise visit to a dear friend."

Though perhaps her behavior had seemed a bit inappropriate, surprisingly it had all been for a rather innocent endeavor. His words had all but accused her of some sort of impropriety. His words lacked judgement on her, so in that she could feel safe. She was not meeting with Lord Essex to bed him or to flirt, but instead peel the loneliness she had begun to feel away. Suddenly, however, Lord Oxford seemed the perfect cure-- that is, if he would have her. And then, as if an invitation to stay, he admitted that he was pleased by her interruption. Ah, now that was something that could get him into trouble.

"So you are pleased that I have happened upon you at such a time..." Mary Shelton looked back at him, not deterred by his own stare, but instead studying his eyes and the way he looked at her. Then she broke the gaze, but only to look him over once. He was a soldier through and through. Very much her sort of man. "And in such a state. This was dangerous territory. She had not yet taken a lover since her return to court and now, it seemed, perhaps one had fallen into her lap? Lord Oxford, from what she knew of him, did not seem the sort to gloat about women. In fact, he seemed rather gentlemanly on the subject. If that was indeed the case, then perhaps... Mary could be pleased as well with her circumstances. Perhaps it was what she needed to drain the sadness away. It was a burden that needed a distraction. What better distraction than the man standing in the same room with her this very moment.

"I dare say that my initial companion, though younger, does not have your striking stature, nor your stoic appeal." Mary smiled grandly. "And do not worry about my disappointment, my lord, because now I believe that I would rather be here than the place which I intended to be. Does that please you as well?" Her brow lifted inquisitively and she actually felt herself wanted to be nearer, even perhaps to touch him. But certainly that would have been too forward, would it not? For now, she could at least attempt to play the fair maiden.
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John de Vere
Unregistered

He dropped his eyes from her as she spoke again, revealing her better interests in a dear friend. Only a single corner of his mouth moved into a half-smirk, his expression otherwise plain and void of any reaction to just who was standing before him. With her eyes prying, no less. His gaze flickered to the adjoining door, briefly thinking of just when that damn servant would arrive with the good news of a hot bath. He sucked in a quiet sigh through his nostrils before sitting down in the chair at his desk, resting either of his forearms on the wood and scanning over what seemed to be nothing in particular. Of course, she would never know. "Even the Lady Mary Shelton makes mistakes, no?" He finally replied, his eyes still cast downwards to the yellow paper. "Nothing to forgive, Lady Shelton," he waved a single hand in the air, dismissing the idea completely and casually.

As she questioned him, though, he finally peered at her through his dark eyelashes, glancing up from his work and to the fine bodice of Mary. His eyelids narrowed if only by the slightest as his fingers fiddled with a quill he had earlier plucked from its well. He blinked plainly and finally grinned in subtle amusement. "Pleased might have been a general term, my Lady," he replied easily, his tone flat. "Compared to what any usual man would do to a woman arriving unannounced." His broad shoulders lifted into a quick half-shrug, accompanied by a shake of his head and the lower of his eyes back to the ink-scribbled parchment. For a moment or two he began writing in peace, his eyebrows lifted if only marginally as if to see better the words in front of him. But his lips parted yet again, and he drew in a quiet breath. "And what state is that, Lady Shelton? Can a man not wait for his bath to be drawn?"

She went on, though, to actually praise him for this sort of state. He smiled modestly as he set down his quill, bringing his eyes up to her and leaning back in his chair with his hands folded across his torso. His thumbs fiddled contemplatively as she went on, amusing him with her compliments and succulent nature to what seemed like to toy with him. Or, as young women liked to put it, flirt. Was the Mary Shelton so bold? Even in his own, imposed-upon chambers? A slow smirk spread to his unshaven mouth at the thought; so she dared to breathe the air of risks and the unknown. Much like he did in battle, encroaching upon territory that could simply not be predicted. Yes, yes she indeed was very bold..

"Does that please you as well?" His eyebrows lifted above his dark gaze, along with the corners of his lips that didn't quite reach the lights of his eyes. He stared at her expectantly for a moment, or perhaps just skeptical, before he stood from his chair and moved quietly around to the front of the desk. "If you are so desperately searching for my pleasure, Lady Shelton," he began, his tone still low and dry. "Then instead of interrupting my work," his hand reached over for his cup of wine and brought it to his lips. "Then you may either leave me to my bath.. or," he tilted the goblet and took a quiet sip. "You can join me, for I'm positive my tub can comfortably accustom another." His expression remained generally plain. "T'is the least invitation I can offer, for you seem to be in need of some when it concerns being here, no?"
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Mary Shelton
Unregistered

This was not what she had intended. This was supposed to have been a bit of poetry reading and writing with a friend. Instead, in fairly short order, it had become anything but. In fact, her heart thudded loudly in her chest and she found herself trying to remain calm and composed on the outside. But how could she? How could Mary just pretend this was normal and good? She simply could not and she was sure now that the slight blushing on her cheeks was not from the warm fire, but instead her sheer embarrassment. At first, she had been collected and witty but Lord Oxford shot back at her with such a stoic fire that even she was fighting for words to say. ”I will be the first to admit, my lord, that I am not perfect. I am anything but.” Mary swallowed and tried to not stare for too long a moment at his figure as he sat. He was an impressive man, she could very well admit that.

Might have been? Well then, I shall have to hope on that might.” How was the man so stoic? He acted almost as if this was an everyday occurrence for him. Though he probably was no stranger to women in his rooms, his calmness over the whole thing still very much caught her off guard. He spoke again and then she couldn’t help but wonder if he had no desire to speak to her at all. Perhaps it would have been better to just have left and forget this situation at all. Mary could think of no response to this. She was simply being treated rather uncouthly in her opinion. Though perhaps she deserved it. She had been the one to happen upon him so unexpectedly and so impolitely, had she not?

It was her flirtations, however, that saved her. It seemed to snap him out of his working stupor and finally made him really look at her. And then he rose from his chair, sipping his wine as he essentially told her to either go… or to stay and bathe with him. At that, her breath left her lungs and she felt a shock creep up her spine. She did not know what she expected him to say or to do, but that was certainly not it. He had expressed little to no interest in her and now he wanted her in his tub? Was he so used to getting what he wanted? There was a part of Mary that wanted to slap him clear across the face for such an assumption. Or… She paused in thought. Maybe it was all just a bluff. She smirked at the thought.

“I thank you for your most gracious invitation, my Lord. Perhaps that is what I need. A nice hot bath. It is rather drafty at court this time of year,” she replied almost wistfully, turning her back to him so he could easily find her laces. “Would you mind, Lord Oxford?” Mary was nervous. She was anxious. And all the while, there was a part of her that very much wanted Oxford’s hands on her. She could fight it, for a while. But sooner or later, she knew herself well enough, she would give in. But was that what he wanted? She simply was not sure. No man had ever been so stoic about seeing her without her garments on before.
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John de Vere
Unregistered

He could feel just a slight warmth from the fire, the entire left side of his body just a few more degrees higher than his right. It lit up the area, though, and with the surrounding candles and torches, John could see easily the internal battle wrought about Mary's face. So pretty she was, especially when under such new and unexpected turmoil. A single eyebrow went up to question her, the faint sound of water being poured accompanying the absence of her reply. Was the Mary Shelton so shocked? Good. Queen's sister or not, these were his chambers. And with half of his clothes already gone and the water still being heated, John did not want to accustom to an uninvited guest. Womanly and beautiful or not.

So, to still put a finish to what he'd originally set out for, the Earl figured the best route possible. Should she decline, then shall her leave soon follow and his bath waiting. Should she accept, for some hilarious reason, then the more the merrier. Still he would get what he wanted, with or without company, it did not matter to him. He stood there, seemingly patiently, and sipped his wine once more. John did not miss the light that suddenly reached her eyes, her entire face for that matter, as if she had just come to the end of the maze, the last piece of the puzzle, or the answer to the greatest mathematical equation. The Earl could not help but grin at this.

Her flighty acceptance did not come as a surprise, for he never once thought the Mary Shelton to walk away from a challenge so easily. His eyebrows lifted and he smiled pleasantly, dropping his eyes from her face and nodding in obligement. "Very drafty indeed," he echoed plainly, turning his head and placing his cup of wine down on his wooden desk. By the time he looked back at her, she had turned from him and had piqued a question that, to the ear, sounded so viably innocent it almost made him laugh. But there was no mistaking her sort of tone, almost broken with her nerves, yet nakedly smooth to those not looking -listening, in this case- for the right things. He lifted his broad arms and crossed them over his chest, eying her skeptically but patiently. "Perhaps we should wait, my Lady," he finally replied, glancing over to the adjoining closed door. "For when the bath is prepared. Unless you don't mind my page seeing you without your clothes?" He smirked plainly, though by his stature, it was obvious the Earl wasn't going to undo any laces until the very precise moment.

And, it seemed, would be closer than perhaps the both of them expected. Had they nearly boiled the water so quickly? For the door connecting the second half of the lavish room opened and presented the very page mentioned. The younger man's eyes flickered to his employer and to the new guest, but bowed low and breathlessly spoke that the Earl's desired bath had been readied. John nodded and dismissed him quickly, then extending a single arm to the open door where the large brass tub awaited. "Shall we?" He asked, perhaps rhetorically, before stepping through and closing the doors behind them. The water in the tub waited with a silent steam, hovering just above it and dissipating at its ends. Beside it was a small, pearl-topped sidetable, dotted with various, differently colored bars of soap and other parfumes. To him, it all seemed so welcoming. "Though I wasn't expecting company in the least," he began with a small smirk, "I must admit, maybe with guilt, that I already enjoy it."
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