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| hell hounds, ready to take you as soon as I let go; william spencer | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 10 2011, 11:13 PM (118 Views) | |
| Arthur Chamerlyn | Jan 10 2011, 11:13 PM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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beginning of February 1512 Never had Arthur found himself busier with his March. Even when he first inherited the seat of power and nobility, that mountain of duties had been a mere hill compared to the gargantuan volcano ready to burst at any moment. He had once thought moving back to Court would relieve him if only a bit of his... parchment intake. It seemed, though, with the new year, everyone was wanting to make changes. As he sat as his desk, received and delivered letters, the Marquess could think f nothing but what truly lay ahead of him. Rumors of war, and his most-definite pregnant betrothed. Oh, how he worried now constantly, pondered often how she was and wished he could have her in his sights at all times. His poor page, frequently sent from his post to seek word from the Anne Parr and to hear all was well. It was Arthur's way of keeping his eye on her when he could not, but he knew he could not bother what was to be the Marchioness of Powis with needless concerns, least of all waste her time. And should he ever have to leave her, he couldn't in his wildest dreams watch for her safety. No, Anne needed a companion that would, quite literally, sleep at her feet yet tear the hand of any troublemaker. And what better man to know of such companions than the William Spencer? The man's renowned investment into his horses was no secret amongst Court, and along with exquisite equines, the Earl of Wilmington had found reputation in his equally-fine select breeding of hounds. It anyone knew anything about the disposition of canines, it was William Spencer. And since Anne would hardly tolerate an employed following her every move, Arthur figured a dog would do just the job. "James," he said, finishing once more his signature on the parchment and setting it aside. He could hear the reluctant breath his young page took, probably expecting yet another trip to look for the Anne Parr and pester her even more. "Go to my Lord Wilmington," he continued, glancing up from his desk and to the boy standing before him. "Tell him I'd like an audience with him." He smiled plainly before nodding in dismissal, waving a single hand in the air as the page bowed and left. While he waited, the Marquess set aside the pile of parchment -wedding plans- specifically for Anne and managed to clear a space for his cup and pitcher of wine. He drank quietly, contemplatively and patiently. When the door finally opened, Arthur had just finished the cup and placed it aside. "Ah," he remarked, standing from his desk and bowing in greeting to the presented Earl. "My Lord Wilmington," he spoke clearly, smiling kindly. "So good to see you could come on such an unexpected request. I do apologize, if I've caused any inconvenience." Formalities first, then business next, no? Arthur extended an arm to the further interior of his chambers, as if to welcome him in. "I'm afraid this is nothing of great import, compared to the expected business of men, but t'is all good business in the end." He smiled and nodded assuredly, moving over to pour he and his guest the customary cups of fine, fine wine. "I'm very interested, my Lord Wilmington, in the Spencer hounds. Surely as fine as your horses, no?" |
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| William Spencer | Jan 11 2011, 06:54 PM Post #2 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William was a man who liked to prepared and a man who liked to be constantly involved in something. He preferred something physical, rather than sitting all the time. Plus, he had plenty of things to be seeing to and was currently rather engaged with working with his godson. The boy was actually another William, but they called him Thomas to differentiate, as he was also a Spencer. William was rather fond of him, hence the reason why he took him on...following in the footsteps of his french uncle in realizing the security of having the person directly attending you be a young relation. Blood was less likely to sell your secrets, because their futures were usually irrevocably linked to yours. With a potential war with France on the horizon, William wanted to make sure that Thomas was ready. Being that William had an old shoulder injury, he needed to know that Thomas was up to the task of fighting and staying on William's right side. He had invited Kingston (whom his mind was still thinking of as Kingston, instead of Warrington) to help him since they needed an 'attacker', and who better to test a boy's mettle than a HUGE knight with plenty of war experience? A knight who had been fulfilling that purpose quite admirably. "Use your legs on your horse, Thomas," he said, sharply, "Remember you have to stay between him and that side of me. If I move or he does, you must move as well. You cannot have all your focus on your sword. You must do more at one time and do it automatically." They had been at this for quite some time and despite the chill in the air, William was warm with a slight sheen of sweat on his face. Thomas was huffing and sweating rather profusely, but William did not feel bad at all. His own uncle had done far far worse. It was shortly after that some man came over to them and called for him. He backed his horse out of the Kingston created fray, and walked over to the man. The man who informed him that his master, the Marquis of Powess, wanted to see him. For what might have been important information. It was slightly irregular, to say the least, considering he was not particularly acquainted with the other man. William had no idea what he could possibly want. "Tell your master I will be along shortly, I am slightly indisposed." Slightly was a bit of an understatement, but William was the exceedingly proper sort. He was very indisposed. He greatly hoped this was important. He called out to the others, "I must take my leave of you both, feel free to carry on, I shall hopefully return shortly." He rode his horse back to the stables and handed him over to a groom, telling him to keep him saddled. William stopped by his own chambers to have his boots cleaned off, and he considered changing his shirt, but in the end he did not as he fully intended to go back to his task when he was finished with this meeting. After being announced, William walked in and bowed as well with his usual congenial smile. "My Lord Powis, it was a much unexpected request, thus I do hope you will pardon my appearance as I was otherwise engaged when your man found me." The corner of one side of his mouth went up a bit more. It was probably clear he had been doing something. His hair was clumping together a bit, and he had no idea that he had a droplet of blood (not his) on his face. "It is quite all right," he replied, still smiling, not betraying that he really rather would prefer to be outside as of yet. He walked a bit further in at the man's gesture and quirked a brow delicately when he was informed that it was not anything of great importance. William was a bit sensitive to these sorts of things even if he kept it carefully hidden away when he was irked. William had enough issue with people not wanting association with him over important matters but yet having no issue speaking with him about horses and dogs. Good God. And this was about dogs. DOGS? William put another gracious smile on and nodded, watching as Powis poured out some wine. There was that, at the very least. William was still of the opinion that french manners were much more refined. Then again, it was difficult to judge when most treated him like some sort of outsider mongrel. William was of the opinion that it was quite simple for anyone with calculating intelligence to realize that the likelihood of him inheriting everything from his french side was quite high, and that such a thing would make William a good friend and potential ally. The way William calculated, the odds of him inheriting from the Duchy of Nemours was about seventy-five percent and much higher if he took to the task of ridding France and France's army of his only uncle standing in the way of such an inheritance. "My hounds, yes, they are remarkable animals especially for the hunt. Are you interested in a pack, My Lord?" He might have been more pleased if it was about his horses, but William was not a man to go about slighting someone over something so paltry. One never knew when one might regret that in the future. Now, it might not matter, but tides could change. Spencers had endured many generations and were not new blood. Perhaps he should get to know Powis. Accepting the glass when it was offered, he nodded, "Very fine," he said, wafting it under his nose by his lips with a smile. He had to contain what was left of his glaringly french sort of arrogance. Sometimes it was interesting to smile about such things. Powis would get the benefit of his judgment for now, because he had been quite congenial and mannerly thus far. Perhaps it was the fault of the servant for not conveying that it was not a matter of great importance, he had no way of knowing the situation. For now, he would forget about the interruption to his day. |
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| Arthur Chamerlyn | Jan 17 2011, 05:55 PM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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He smiled a small smile as he spoke of having been occupied, perhaps even implying interruption from what Arthur had set forth. But, this seemed a trivial thing, something that wasn't enough to keep the light crystal shade of his eyes lingering back to his desk, where he briefly observed a sheet of parchment, the first on a pile, as if he'd overlooked it before. His brows furrowed with a flash of importance as he scanned over it, sipping his wine and running a few inquisitive fingers over the face of the scribbles of ink. "Only if you pardon my appearance, my Lord," he finally spoke, bringing his eyes slowly back to his guest and smiling humorously. "I have little time to spare usually, so I used the first opportunity I had." He nodded then and again sipped his wine, moving once more from his desk and towards the warming fire. Arthur smirked to himself at the thought of a pack of dogs, all surrounding Anne as loyal subjects to their master. Oh, the hilarity. He could imagine his wife's outrage, and though it was tempting, Arthur refrained from subjecting her to such lengths. "Perhaps a pack for my home in Powis," he replied smoothly, thinking best to use them there when on the hunt. He could always use a new pack of dogs, no? "But for the moment," Arthur went on, turning to face his guest with a broad, firm though welcoming stature. "I'm more interested in only one, maybe two, for my dear lady wife's companionship." He chuckled breathlessly then and glanced down, wondering what a fool he must have sounded like. He shook his head and leveled his gaze once more. "And even protection. She's with child, you see," he smiled, "and she refuses to allow another person to follow her heels. I would myself, were it that easy.." oh, Anne. So beautifully obstinate. "I think a dog might be a little more to her acceptance." He smirked and lifted his cup of wine to his lips, swallowing quickly. "And would probably be the very least my conscious could rest easy with." Leaving Anne pregnant with his child frightened him with the possibilities, that if she were to lose it for whatever reason, he might never forgive himself. But the Earl of Wilmington knew well, as all the other nobles of the King, that war was hovering close and close to imminent. It wasn't only Anne that would be left pregnant and without a husband to protect her; what else was he to do? "What do you recommend, my Lord?" His eyes narrowed if only for a moment; the Earl before him did not have his wife, did not have a woman to carry his heirs; at least, not yet. Perhaps, though, he could at the smallest empathize. Arthur, nearly eight years this man's senior, placed all of his hope on the growing child in Anne's womb. And, of course, her ability to take care of it since he could not. But, by God, he would do whatever he could do. Even if that meant getting a godforsaken dog. |
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| William Spencer | Jan 19 2011, 08:33 PM Post #4 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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As the other man asked him to pardon his appearance, William gave a nod-like bow graciously and smiled, with a bit of amusement. "Of course, my lord," he replied, "We are all servants of his Majesty, doing what is asked of us with due diligence." William was preparing for what he saw as a war that was becoming inevitable. After all the talk, well, as soon as the Holy season was over, he was quite sure they would be waring with France. He stood there for a moment as the Marquess moved toward the fire, a smirk playing on his lips. Instead of a smirk, William quirked an eyebrow, still standing with a hand behind his back as he held his cup. "Suitable for a hart or game that is retrieved? I would need to know a purpose to set my man about sending what you would require. I doubt you hold interest in boar as England's wild swine is not amenable to sport. They are more like plods of moving simple targets." One would have to go to Calais for boar hunting, unless it was some beast captured there and released for sport, which he had heard done. Boar was much more popular in France than in England. However, he paused when the man made his original intentions quite clear. He wanted companion dogs for his wife. God's Blood. Seriously? William's brow furrowed just slightly. He was not exactly a purveyor of women's dogs. "Are you seeking companion animals, my lord? Because I am afraid I do not have...women's dogs." He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you are meaning for protection? His Majesty's father did not like the Mastiff for its ability to kill the regal lion, so we were rid of those by mandate." William had some in France, but he could hardly say that. Not to mention he would have no way of getting them, as he was not about to write anything remotely French connected at the time. "I could ask my man if I've two hounds that would be acceptable to the task, but it is not a request I hear often. I do understand your concern but do not understand the lady's objection. Surely she is used to have people following her about?" William could not imagine a different circumstance. Ladies of noble birth just did not go walking about unattended. Not to mention that a place well-guarded would have no need for a pair of dogs licking around a lady's knees. It was quite perplexing to him. "I recommend, my lord, that you beseech the lady to reconsider if it is that your conscience must rest on the matter. My conscience would require more than dogs as I am sure yours does as well hence the conundrum, yes?" Pleasing your wife and yet seeing to her safety and well-being might not always be of the same course of action. |
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10:53 AM Jul 11