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c'est la vie, mon ami; tag;;Wills
Topic Started: Sep 17 2011, 10:13 PM (548 Views)
Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
Summer, 1506

His dear friend...his best friend. It had been a while since Henry had seen William, for he had left the island of England a year before to return to France. They had kept in contact through letters, but it wasn't the same. Through the last letter, he stated he was returning to England. It absolutely delighted him, and he wrote back to let him know that his estates in Devon would be ready for his return. After his friend's long journey, he might very well need some reprieve before he returned home.

The young earl was doing everything he could to please both his mother and his sister, his petite fleur, who as of right now was his entire world. His mother suggested he find himself a beautiful bride, a new countess to grace his estates, but he was too busy being a seventeen-year-old boy, and seventeen-year-old boys were not all that interested in finding a bride, marrying, and bearing heirs, no matter whether it was their duty or no. He was more interested in wooing pretty girls with dances and poetry, nothing more.

In this instance, he was rather fickle. It was very hard to keep Henry's attention when it came to the female persuasion. He would fall in love rather easily before moving on to the next pretty face. William teased him about it sometimes, about him being somewhat fickle. Henry countered right back with the fact he didn't sleep with every whore he came across. Henry respected women...he just didn't respect whores. He had his moments, sure, but they were not respectable women.

In spite of all the teasing, he was looking forward to seeing his friend again. It seemed the day would never come...but it finally did. Henry made sure that the rooms were prepared for his friend and made sure everything was perfect before he rode out with his men to meet William near the entrances of Devon. He held tight to the reins of his brown stallion and watched for any sign of his arrival. Anything.

And once he saw a small entourage, with a rather tall rider at the head, he knew it was William. "Help me dismount!" Henry ordered one of his men, and a page appeared at his side. He swung a leg over his saddle and managed to hop down on his own, not really needing the page after all.

"Guillaume!" He was one of the few people he could speak French to; at least it kept his skills sharp. "My friend, it feels like ages since I saw you last." He watched as William dismounted, and in several long strides, Henry crossed the gap and gave him a hug. "How are you?" He stepped back and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The journey I trust was long, tiring, and uneventful, no?" With William, he could afford the courtesies of teasing and lack of titles. They'd known each other for too long to be overly formal in polite company.
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William could still feel the sea as he rode from the coastline of Devon, where he had docked from the continent, to the home of the Courtenays. They were some of the first fellow peers in England that William had been allowed to meet, because of their old family alliances and blood on the Courtenay and York side. It had taken some time for William to understand his English genealogy, because he had so long been made to recite all of his French genealogy that it was a lot to add to existing information. His French side was quite vast and grand, but his English side was not paltry either.

What was important was that his most intimate friend shared blood and family history with him, and William understood the importance of those things, of allies. High peerages came at a price of danger, and the higher one rose, the more dangerous it was to be there. His French grandfather had nearly been beheaded, and his many times great-grandfather in England had suffered one of the most brutal executions in history simply for jealous nobles not liking his influence as favourite of Edward II.

Thus, his grandfather encouraged his association with the Courtenays. Indeed, the Spencers were close to the house of York, and it was how his uncle John had been named as protector of the Queen. William was glad that his association with 'his Henrys' as he thought of his cousins, was freely encouraged. It was one escape he was allowed. He was always welcomed there with brotherly affection from Henry and motherly affection from the Dowager Countess, Princess Catherine of York. Needless to say, he intended to stay there for as long as was allowed upon his return to England from his travels to numerous countries of the continent.

His youthful exuberance and excitement over seeing his friend was evident, and it was clear that his journey had taken little toll on his spirits. William was happy to see Henry again. As Henry had spent time in France in the Loire Valley with his family when he was younger, William could feel free to speak French with him. Sir John had prevailed upon Henry's mother to not make mention of anything to William's grandfather which was no hard task at all, and William could peacefully be himself. A self his grandfather did not see or care to see; the man would always hate him and think him horrible. Any concerns about him went to John or Edward, but William was never badly behaved at their home. This Henry was not a trouble-maker.

The moment he saw his friend on his horse, riding to meet him, William spurred his horse faster, filled with a hopeful energy.

He leaped off his own horse, leaving one of his servants to grab the reins and was fast to return the embrace of his friend.

"Henri! I missed you! I have so much to tell you. I brought you books!" he said, ecstatically, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Poetry in Italian and French and Basque, philosophical works in Latin and Greek, and stories I was told in the east countries whilst looking at their Barbary horses on the coast. How dark the Moors are!"

Of all his friends, Henry most shared his level of learning and love of art and fine things. William saw it as nothing short of the effects of his friend's exposure to the continent in France, but he was biased that way. They could read poetry and stories together and to Henri's sister, and he had gifts for both ladies as well. William was quick to adore and revere anyone in England who showed him any care, and he was quite keen on Henri's mother since his own mother had long been left in France.

"How have you been? I received your letters. Is your family still well?"
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
Not only was his friend his oldest and dearest, but they were related, and as he heard, blood was thicker than water. Henry was more than willing to stand for William, his family, and anyone who spoke against him. After all, he had a rather extravagant bloodline himself, with his mother being a princess and his cousin, Henry, being a prince; his uncle and aunt the king and queen, respectively. For certain he would get whispers behind his back if he chose to stand for someone with French ancestry but he did not care overly much for old nobles and their notions for politics.

And he was happy to host his friend's arrival, since here he was allowed to relax without fear of reprisal from that horrific man, William's grandfather. He had only met him briefly, once, and praised God he didn't have any relations that were that...horrid. Even William's uncles were more understanding and tolerant of his behavior, from what he heard.

William returned his excitement, of which Henry was happy. "As did I Guillaume. I was wondering when you were going to return. I am glad to see you here." William seemed rather excited to be back home, and even moreso to reveal the gifts he brought back with him. "Thank you for the gifts. I am looking forward to read the poetry and the stories you brought with you, but I fear that I know little about Italian; it is a beautiful language, to be sure, but I never know if I will have occasion to use it." He listened as more excited words spilled out. Oh, how he wished he could have gone to France; he loved the country so...the art, the way of learning, the fine things; plus, he missed the people there, and he loved Guillaume's family. They were all very loving, wonderful people.

"It's good to know you have received my letters. Sometimes it is hard to tell. I have received your letters as well. Mother, and my little flower, my dear sister, are both doing well. Of course, you know you would not have to ask about that. They both will be happy to see you." When it came to those two women, they had him wrapped around their little fingers. "Mother is after me to marry, because she feels like I need to, so that I might make heirs with a lovely and beautiful woman." He rolled his eyes as if to say is that not absurd? "Oh, by the way, I have something for you too, back at my estates. And no, it's not a woman. That will have to wait." Henry gave William a tiny grin. "What say you we go back and get you settled in?"
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William frowned as Henri said that he was not that familiar with Italian. For some reason he had taken for granted that the other boy would have been exposed to it. He really had not thought about the necessity of his own learning of Italian in comparison to the necessity of a boy from England learning Italian. Assuredly, unless one was ambitious to go to Rome as an envoy or ambassador, one would not need to know it in England. His friend, the earl, was far too important to be sent away in such a capacity, William thought.

Italian was important to William because the Kingdom of Naples was technically his family's people, so it was imperative that he know it if he were to one day get it back.

"You should learn, Henri! Do you know how many conversations we could have which no one would understand?" he said, excitedly. "French is well enough for being secretive, but Italian would be far more clever."

He started to walk along with his friend as Henry spoke about letters and his family. William's face warmed into a contented sort of a smile. A peaceful sort of one. If he had to be back in England, he was glad to be here first. He felt safe here.

"Marriages, yes, I will admit that has been mentioned for me as well, but my grandfather will not want to give me my own household, so I do not think he rushes to promise me off.," William confessed with a laugh. "That is all well and good...my understanding is he has his sights set fairly high, seeming to think that my half-French value goes up at market for being an heir of my family there as well." He rolled his eyes liberally. His grandfather here had hated everything French about William but what suited him, and it suited him that William had the blood of Angevin princes and was the grandson of a semi-sovereign duke. William did not like the idea of being used. Then another thought popped into my head, "There is likely also question about who can compel me to marry," William said, "So that is in my favour. Neither grandfather wishes to concede to the other about that." he shrugged. Hopefully that just meant that he remained single longer.

"For me? You are too generous my friend!" he let out a bit of a snort, "I do not think your mother would like that overly much." Henri arranging a liaison for his houseguest? William chuckled a bit, shaking his head mostly to himself.

"Yes, of course, so long as you allow me time to wash before I need to present myself to anyone but you. I would not wish to offend anyone's sensibilities with seawater and horseflesh," he joked as they neared the manor. "So if not a woman, what is this gift that you have for me?"
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
"You look disappointed that I do not know the language," he frowned back. "When would I ever have the occasion to use it? I fear that I shan't be sent away as any type of ambassador, for I am needed here." Never mind he heard it was every bit as beautiful as French. As quickly as the sadness showed on his friend, it was replaced with excitement. "Oh? Well, you how I am all about being clever. Too many know Latin, maybe Greek, and French is easily learned. You shall have to teach me." He remembered the days with his tutors, and the whippings he'd receive for not paying attention or for doing something wrong. The idea of William whipping him for flubbing a word made him want to laugh.

The two walked, and talked about family, and other things. "Ah. So he feels like he has to have his hooks into everything, now does he?" Henry frowned again, this time at the thought of that horrid man. For some reason or another, he felt very protective of Guillaume, and wanted to lash out at any man who spoke ill of him. Who would even dare to criticize the man who was related to Prince Henry? No one. At least, never to his face.

"All I have to say is, do not marry a woman because you feel like you must." He put an arm around his shoulders, and smiled. "Only marry someone if you truly love them. For that is what I always tell my sister, and I will not have her be given in marriage to a man who will treat her ill. Besides...we can afford to be choosy, can we not?" he teased. Of course, the ladies pined after William, for being part French and the poetry he so loved to spout found his way up many skirts. It would take a very special type to compel him to change those ways.

"No, my mother would not like that, and though I am master of the house, I dare not defile it in such a manner. We shall have to conduct such liasions elsewhere, my friend." Henry snorted in afterthought. "Well, of course you can. We can't have you stinking of brine and the arse of a horse, now can we? Can't offend my delicate senses. And in regards to what I have for you...I fear you shall have to wait for a little while longer. I jest. It is something in regards to your cardplaying. You shan't have to worry about borrowing coin from your grandfather for a long, long while." They stopped before they reached the manor, and he smiled at him. "Welcome home, my friend."
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
Most boys would likely run about saying how they would best everyone with their size and their sword, and Henry and William spoke of speaking a language no other man would speak. They were the odd pair, both seeming to favour words over aggression. The more diplomatic tactics of humanism and not the battle-hungry, blood-lusting traditions of the past. It was a large commonality between all their friends, really.

"Of course I will. You will be returning to court soon, yes. Perhaps with me?" he said, hopefully. All the young lords who were at court, most with positions as pages and the like under family or family friends, surely spent most of their time away from their duties together. At the very least, William's grandfather heftily approved of his friends. It was simply lucky for William that his cousins, more distant relations, and family friends had sons who were so...similar in him to temperament. It was perhaps the one thing he liked about his life. The longer he was at court with some of his friends away, the worse enduring his grandfather would be.

"He goes not like me to have much coin, because he likes me to be properly dependent upon his grace and to not be tempted by excess coin to vices. Or so he says. God's Blood, we know it is just that he wishes me miserable." Even if he won at gambling, his grandfather would check his purses, boots, and things. He was never left with much on his person. He felt it totally beneath him to have only such a mean sum but voicing that he felt like a pauper's son--when he knew his grandfather was very amply endowed--would only earn him a sound beating.

Thankfully, which was strange for this to be thankful, but the subject turned to women and marriages. William clapped Henri on the back and laughed. "Ahh, I did miss you, Henri. You have the heart of a poet which likely pleases your lady mother, but...do you not think you should bend a bit to the reality of the world as a man should? I should hate to see who my grandfather would marry me to, and I would not have a choice. He would beat me until I obeyed. He has done little to make me happy here, so I doubt he shall wish any of the rest of my life to be happy," he said sullenly, but he perked up very fast as if wishing to dismiss those thoughts until they were realities once more when he was back at court.

"At least you are more in control of such things, my friend; although I am sure His Majesty would need to have a say in a match for you," William said. Likely a strong say as well. Henri was King Henry's nephew, and he had no father anymore. "By the time I would have such a power, my sister will be married, I am sure." He shrugged.

"I would always wish to be respectful of your lady mother." His face then turned to a mischievous grin. "Then we shall have to do so?" Until Henri found love, he could find the physicality of it, could he not? The thought made William laugh a bit.

"Well it was not your senses I was worried about, Devon," he said with a wink. "Think I can manage a pretty chambermaid to help me bathe, surely that is not unreasonable or offensive?" He would not bed her, but she could make sure he was quite clean where he could nto reach, or did not wish to.

"Ha! Are you going to stash coin for me, my friend? Sang Dieu, I could worship you on my knees right now."
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
Their humanist educations led them to solutions and conversations that were about more than just war and bloodlust. "Well, then, this is good. And oui, Guillaume, I feel that I will have to return to court soon, for it is what's expected of me from the lord I so serve. You shall make excellent company for my sojourn there." Whenever their lords had no need of their services, the two young men snuck off to spend time together, and at times with pretty girls, when Guillaume convinced him.

"We have not suffered as much as God's son, but yes, I fear your grandfather only thinks of himself and not what makes you happy." Henry did not grow up in the same type of household as his friend. He grew up differently, and was pleased for it. He always strived to please his mother, in all things. Why could Guillaume not understand this?

"And why would that not please my lady mother?" Henry was forever teased for his poetic and chivalrous heart by his friends. "After all, she saw to my education beyond what was required for a gentleman of my station and standing. And it is not to you to tell me what I should and should not do." He stepped out of the friendly embrace they found themselves in, and he walked with both hands clasped properly behind his back. "You are only my friend. I am my own lord and master, save after my lord God and my soverign king. I will marry a lady of dignity and high standing, and one whom I love. And you should do the same, for by the time you hold such a power, it will not be to your grandfather to tell you what you shall and shall not do. Holding you back from marriage is only a disservice to him, mon ami. Not you." Thankfully, the conversation turned to much lighter things.

"Bloody hell, then I am rather offended. You wish to offend the senses of your host? Mon Dieu, mon ami, I should banish you from my sight!" Henry laughed, and shook his head. "I think I might be able to arrange for a chambermaid to help you bathe, but not to handle your sword. As I've said, such things we shall have to conduct elsewhere." Henry's eyes twinkled. It wasn't that often he indulged in the physicalities of a woman's sweet embrace, but it had been some time and he did have company.

William seemed delighted at the gift. "No worshiping needed. For how will your grandfather ever know it is your coin? He shall think its mine and for some strange reason, he likes me." The reason was not strange at all...he knew the shrewd and overbearing man liked Henry's title and influences, nothing more. "You shall never have to wish yourself miserable, Guillaume, at least never in my presence." He turned back to his manservants. "Help my friend's men with his luggage and belongings. Take them to the room that is so prepared for him." His men bowed and said, "Yes, my lord Devon." Henry smiled, and led his friend on into the manor, where he was immediately greeted by one of the chambermaids. "My lord Devon."

Henry smiled, and stepped forward, whispering into her ear. She flushed a pretty red and curtsied to both the gentlemen, rushing to do her lord's bidding. "I asked her to be the one to bathe you, mon ami. She is a rather pretty little thing, is she not?" Her light hair and blue eyes were like many of the women of England, but indeed, she was pretty and rather comely. "I am somewhat embarrassed to confess I have...had knowledge of her." He shrugged his shoulders, and grinned. "Are you ready to be thus pampered?" Knowing his friend, they would talk their way up the stairs and straight into his bath, with little effort.
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
It seemed Henry felt William had told him what he should do and was eager to refute that. "Ah but I did not say that did I? I asked you what it was you thought, and you made inference that because of the question it was what I thought. I certainly would not tell you what to do." He smirked at the superiority of his own logic and also in wiggling his way out of the accusation. It was all in good fun. It kept their minds busy and at least they had their intelligence in common as well. Witty banter was a good measure of a man.

For some reason it rather bothered him that Henri included the word 'only' in his statement 'you are only my friend'. The inclusion of the word only had a rather negative connotation in his mind. He did not say anything about it, because perhaps he was a bit sensitive to the use of the word. After all, he was 'only' many things to his grandfather. Only one quarter his blood. Only inheriting because there was no other option. Only good for his arse in a saddle. And his personal favourite, 'You only serve me as my grandson.' Meaning, in William's eyes, that the only way in which he was the man's grandson was in being allowed near him to serve him.

"I do not think he will hold me back from a marriage, just that he would not give a care on a horse's arse what my wishes were. I really do not expect to last more than the year without a betrothal. All of his sons were married by my age, and I will be stuck with said lady until death. One of his choosing." His grandfather would only care for his own political machinations and money, and William was very frightened that he was going to be sold far too cheaply for his blood. He could only hope that his French grandfather would raise objection; after all, he knew that the tenuous nature of that was due to the fact that his grandfather Wilmington had released care of him to his french family when his father died. The two did battle over him because he was each their heir. It was why he had been gone for the year on the continent; his grandfather Nemours had insisted. Wilmington knew and appreciated nearly nothing about his French blood. He did not understand in the least.

William could not even fathom attempting to explain it, as he would not live through the task; the idea of telling the man he was technically the heir to the man who should be ruling Naples and had been ruling it until late 1503 was rather frightening. The man did not care to know, and it mattered little at the immediate present because of the battles of Italy. What should be his was in the hands of the bastard Spanish now, and King Louis was only concerned first about Milan as it belonged to the Valois; his uncle could not afford to fund a war for Naples on his own and Nemours would not pay for it until the upper portion of Italy other than the Ventian states were in French hands.

So he just lived his mean existence as it came, trying to hide the fact from most that his grandfather hated him. What his grandfather thought was an allowance was pitiful for a boy of his age and station, but at least the man had no issue clothing him in the most expensive things. Probably so that he could parade him around like a proper Spencer ornament. And he could not gamble with his clothes.

William let out a huff of a laugh at Henri, "No, my friend, only because I know that such things do not offend you but do generally offend women. I am not one of those that teases you for being a woman, just for being of gentler disposition, which I am oft accused of when you are not around to garner the title." He laughed heartily. Indeed, when he had served Francois, there had been Marechal de Gie as governor and his own aunt's husband, but there had also been Madame de Angouleme who really ruled the house. As a boy, it was argued, he had too much of a woman's hand and influence. He thought he was quite exemplary and could not care what they thought. He was as proper a man he could be with a lame arm that kept him from many masculine pursuits.

An example of proper manly behaviour were his thoughts on chambermaids. Something which made him smile as they walked. He was fairly certain nobody would be able to see if she handled his sword at all under the water. It liked to be clean as well. Besides, he could hardly wish for much anything with his friend about just sitting there.

"Strange reason! It is no strange reason other than his grandmother was a York and his great-grandfather Edmund of Langley. Oh and that your uncle and aunt are King and Queen now." He chuckled through the 'oh' as if it was an afterthought. The elder WIlmington thought of those two things in reverse order he was sure. Nonetheless the families were allies on both sides and related on both. Henri could do not wrong in WIlmington's eyes, and neither could either of his other friends named Henry. The son of a rich earl who had married a Spencer woman. The son of a duke who was also his cousin. Yes, those were appropriate companions in his grandfather's eyes.

As soon as the girl presented herself, William's eyes widened for a brief second and a smile crept across the viscount's face. She would surely do.

"How charitable of you to share, Henri," he replied back. "She is, and I am."

Soon William was sinking into some nice hot water, and he was rather grateful for it as it always seemed to soothe his shoulder. He was quite sensitive about who saw him naked, moreso than most, because of his extensive scarring on his shoulder and the fact that the size of that arm was noticeably smaller than his left since he could not do as much with it. He did not much care with Henri who had seen him in all manners of undress.

He dunked his head under rather eagerly and pushed his hair back and reclined. He always preferred bathing after traveling. Leaning forward, he let the girl clean his back. Oh yes, this was just precisely proper. Exactly what he needed.

"First Italian lesson. Sei un amico estremamente buona."
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
"Of course not, of course not." Henry laughed, and shook his head. "How silly of me. Forgive me, my friend. And you are not just only my friend. Remember that." The man was...well, he was nearly a brother to him. "You have to admit, though, it was a rather sound inference." He gave him a wink, and then listened. Listened as he spouted on about his grandfather, Wilmington. He never minded listening, for they were each other's only outlets in regards to their troubles and their worries. Henry never wanted to worry his mother with such things.

"Guillaume. You need not worry so much. I very much doubt that Nemours will let such a thing happen. You are of his blood too. As I have said, it will be a great disservice to your grandfather." Nemours was of a kinder nature than Wilmington, thus Henry had a softer spot for him. "So do not worry. I shall pray for you and your success in this endeavor." A rather loud laugh came out of his mouth; he was very much enjoying himself. "Seriously, Guillaume, do not worry."

It had been a long time since the two of them were able to commiserate and joke around like this. Henry hoped William would not have to leave England any time soon. "Women, yes, tend to be offended by a man's stench, especially if they smell like sea water and horse. But it will offend your host more if he is forced to smell such a horrid smell. Once you get clean, then we will see about other pursuits. After you are present to my mother and my petit fleur, of course. They are both so anxious to see you."

His friend seemed more anxious, however, to have his chambermaid's hands upon him. "Oui, it is, is it not? I've always been told it's nice to share." Mary was one of those ladies who captured his fancy, and left it just as quickly. It was in his nature, and one of the many aspects, besides him being of a softer nature, Henry was teased about. "Well, come on now." He urged his friend to the chambers he was staying in, where a bath was already prepared for him.

Henry turned and stared out the window while William got into the bath. "Safe to look now, yes?" He turned back around when told he could, just in time to see Mary scrubbing his back. "Keep to the parts you can see, yes? I don't need to really see anything else." Mary flushed, and nodded her head in consent while he was given his first Italian lesson. "Sei un amico estremamente buona." He looked at him in confusion. "Might you tell me what that means, Guillaume?"
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William shrugged with a sly smile, the inference was sound, really. William did think that, but just because he had thought it did not mean that he would deign to tell Henri what to do. He was not even master of himself; he certainly was not going to play master of anyone else, let alone his friend. They were equals and he preferred it that way, so he simply nodded along.

Talk of marriages was really no better, and while he could hope that his other grandfather would somehow stand in the way of it, ultimately he was in another country and could do little about it. His grandfather would drag him to the altar before his other grandfather would have time to send someone to object!

He was glad Henri thought it was funny! However, he needn't do this to himself. William was not even back under his grandfather's rule, and he was already disliking being back in England. He should save that for after he left Henri. Right now he could enjoy himself.

"God's Blood, Henri, are you a man or not? Offended by the smell of a horse, mon Dieu!" He shook his head in amusement, as a few chuckles came out. "We have smelled of horse thousands of times, sometimes I wonder about you."

William nodded as his friend said he would have to, of course, present himself for his mother. One did not saunter into the house of a princess of the realm and ignore her!

"I should, of course, like to see the ladies of the house," That was likely the first thing to do once he was bathed and changed. The bath was already prepared for him, and he eagerly settled into it not much caring what Henri saw of his shoulder and arm. He was one of the people William did not feel strangely sensitive about it around, as Henri would hardly think the less of him for it. He sometimes felt deformed in some way, and he knew others likely thought that too and they'd not even seen it. It did not look so bad, he supposed, but the lameness was restricting.

The pretty thing started washing him while they spoke, and it did not seem to bother her either.

"You can look whenever you like, it is nothing you have not seen before, surely," he replied, with a smile. "Besides you would not think me less of a man for it, and could not either, seeing as how you 'ave also seen that part which you so coyly mention the maid should not touch." He smiled mischievously, "My left does not handle it as well as my right and my right is very sore and pained from the journey. You are most cruel to think I should see to everything submerged, that's more than two-thirds of me!" He chuckled, as he joked. Well it was mostly a joke. Nothing bad would come from washing him! He would hardly pull the girl into the tub with him or expect her hand to finish him whilst Henri was sitting there speaking to him and not getting any attention of his own. William had no idea what was so offensive about witnessing anything getting washed. It was a normal process. Like the handful of people that dressed you in the morning, or those you helped dress. William did not find nudity or any of the processes therein anything but parts of life.

"What does it mean? Try and guess from the sound of it. There are enough similarities to French, English, and Latin you should be able to get it. Better to do it that way, that me just tell you. Try this one, E 'molto strano si pensa che il lavaggio è offensivo," he said as he grinned at his friend. Henri was very smart, William guessed that he could easily learn Italian just by noticing similarities to other languages. At the least, he should be able to understand much of it, if not make a lot of the talk himself.

The maid, of course, stayed much to her masters wishes, and William helped with his own bathing. His own valet supplied a small jar of the oils he preferred and the like. When he was done soaking in the warm water and talking to Henri about Italian, he got out of the bath and let his servant and the girl dry him off completely disinterested in what they were doing as if they were not even there and it were not even happening.

"Did you have any plans for me, my friend?" he asked, "Of what we shall do whilst I am here, or for tonight?" He paused to let his valet put on his linen shirt and to tell him with doublet and breeches he wished. Then he resumed, "Shall I present myself with my presents before we dine? I assumed you planned to feed me before too long," he added with a laugh as the process of getting him clothed started to come to fruition.
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
"The stench is more unbearable when it comes from you, my friend," Henry smirked, and clapped him on his good shoulder. He always took care to not rattle the weak part any more than it already was. "It seems to multiply in its strength and stench." Ah, but he did miss this. It was hard to banter like this with his mother; she appreciated more of his poetic and artistic side, and he certainly could not do it with his petit fleur, or any of the household. He treated them kindly, but one of his station did not mingle and bandy wit with the servants.

He watched as Mary started washing Guillaume, and laughed. "Oh no, of course not! But then again, you are of a rather sly sort. I would not put it past you, mon ami, to whisper pretty nothings in her ear and convince her to see to your other parts." Henry gave him a wink, and chuckled at what a pretty red she was flushing. "Do not be taken in by his deceptively romantic French ways, Mary. Stand strong." Mary nodded, and whispered, "Yes, my lord,", and continued washing him.

Guillaume would not outright tell him what it meant, leaving it to Henry to figure it out. "Hmm. Something along the lines of friend, maybe that I am a good friend?" It was a brilliant way to say it. "All right. Let's try another one." He listened to his next phrase, and scoffed. "Oh, come off it now. Something to do with washing and it being offensive. I don't mind it overly much, but I just wasn't in the mood to see all of you. You know." He gave a shrug of his shoulders, and smiled. "And I didn't want you to get any ideas with this belle fleur in the room, non?"

"Plans?" Henry smiled, and shook his head. "Well, it is truly up to you. While you are here, I figured if you wished, we might venture out of doors, perhaps to hunt, or hawk, if the weather stays fine." He was more of a fan of hawking than hunting, but he would go if Guillaume really wanted to. "For tonight, yes, I suppose you can present yourself with your presents if you really wish to dine." He nodded at him. "And in regards to what else...mayhap a game of cards? Women, however..." he chuckled at Mary's obvious infatuation with both the Earl of Devon and the Viscount Dorchester; in France, if they were there, the Comte de Guise. "...as I have said, any liasion we might desire will have to be arranged for elsewhere." Even if it had to be in a room far on the opposite side of his manor. He couldn't bear to have his mother finding out, or hearing.

"Oui, comme vous pouvez le voir, j'ai anticipé vos besoins. On a boat, with no women, I do not believe even such...thoughts, would sustain. " He grinned. "So, whenever you are ready, we can get on with our day, yes?"
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William chuckled and smiled at his friend as he figured out what the Italian meant. He was happy that Henri would be going back to court as well, because he missed their witty repartee when apart. Being that he could not engage in a lot of other manly sorts of activities, having his mind engaged was rather important to him. Before now, he had never spent very long at one time at court, but now that he was returned from the continent and his education completely, he was going to be there quite constantly. He was going to have a position under his grandfather as the English equivalent to an equerry. That pleased him enough because his duties would mostly be outside aside from additional duties that his grandfather obviously expected of him.

"Precisely, on both. Bravo!" he said, grinning widely. "You shall learn in no long time. You will try to read the poetry, you will learn. I have faith in you." He sat back as the girl washed his chest, smiling in that faintly 'Mmmm' sort of way.

Then he chuckled at Henri's peculiarities and his reactions.

"It is nothing you do not see several times a day, no?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "And on my honour I would not do something against your mother's wishes, Henri, you know that. You needn't babysit me. I thought you remained because you missed me! Pah, fie on that, I see how you are." He pointed at the other young man rather seriously and chidingly until he cracked a smile.

"Hawking indeed," he said brightly, 'Although as to the hunt, we may as well call it a chase, no? I cannot shoot a bow and you do not wish to," he added, with a laugh after his doublet was place on. "Very well. And do not worry, I can wait for the other."
After a few more moments, he was comfortably but elegantly dressed in a deep wine colour with a gold and green embroidery of leaves.

"Now I am clothed, and I am not so offensive in smell; you should be pleased!" After he let out a few chuckles, he licked his lips. "I think they should like my presents, and yes, by all means my gracious host. Lead on."
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
Henry couldn't help but to mirror his friend's grin as Guillaume praised his correctness of Italian. "Then I am quite pleased that you do, indeed, have faith in me, my friend." But his friend never really understood his feelings about seeing any one other than a woman in a state of undress. "I see it several times a day, oui, but it doesn't mean I prefer to see yours. And oui, I was here because I missed you but I would not put it past you to try and woo any woman you came across." He leaned against the wall and raised a brow at him, even when he cracked a smile. "For I know you all too well, mon ami."

He watched as his friend was dressed, and agreed to his plans, save the hunting. "Hawking it is. And oui, I am very pleased that you are presentable. At least to my eyes." Not that he cared overly much about how he looked. "Let us be presented to the lady of the house, yes?" He nodded to his men, and to Guillaume's men, and they took their proper places by their lords as they headed to the room and to the receiving area of his mother.

"Ah, dear mother." He stopped, and bowed to her. Henry was one of the few men who truly respected and revered their mother; he did not know of a better mother and woman.

"My son. My Henry." She rose from where she was sitting, and inclined her head. "I am glad to see you here, and to see that your guest arrived safely." The princess of the once glorious house of York held her arms out to her only son to envelope him in a hug. "Mother, may I present the Viscount of Dorchester," he said, stepping to the side and allowing his mother to see his friend.

"Dear Guilliame. Comment allez-vous? How was your journey, and your time in France? I trust that my lord Devon is seeing to your needs?" She held out her arms to the young man she considered much like another son.
[align=center]Quod verum tutum--Motto on the Courtenay Coat of Arms
HCourts and Wills: Platonic male love!
"If I leave the two of them in a room alone, they might fall in love."--HCourts

Henry Courtenay is in 3 threads, mes amis, and he can handle 1 more.
On extended hiatus until May 18th[/align]
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Margaret Spencer
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As soon as her brother and his friend disappeared into her mother's chambers, Margaret peeked around the corner where she had been hiding. Looking furtively right and left, she ascertained that no one else was around and then stepped out into the hallway. She knew that she was should be with her mother to formally greet Lord Dorchester, but she had come up with a far more interesting way to “welcome” him.

Creeping closer to the door, she knelt down on the floor and carefully opened her hand. In it lay a coin which was tied securely to a long thin string. Placing the coin where she was certain it would be noticed, she started to crawl backwards, heedless of the fact that she was getting her blue silk skirts dirty. Her long blonde curls kept falling over her shoulder, but she pushed them back and tried to ignore the annoyance as she made certain that the string lay flat and unnoticeable on the floor. As soon as the two young men left the room, they would see it lying there. Henry knew the joke already, because she had played it on him before, but William .. or Willsy as she used to call him when she was younger ... would not. He would fall for it. He always fell for her pranks.

Margaret was not quite certain how she felt about her brother's half-French friend. When she was really little, she had hated him because every time he visited, Henry never spent much time with her. She had believed his sole purpose in life was to steal her brother away from her. She knew that Henry enjoyed her company and it was Willsy's fault that he did not include her in everything they did. She was certain that he probably said bad things about her behind her back and convinced Henry that he shouldn't let her join them in the things they did. There was really no other explanation.

They also tended to speak French together, like they were trying to keep secrets from her. Yet now that would not work anymore, because Margaret had studied the language well, and could understand nearly every word of it.

And yet Willsy ... William ... always brought her gifts. For that, she could not hate him too much, because Margaret loved presents. Sometimes he was even nice to her, but in the past, she had rarely been kind to him in return. She remembered once she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't like him and she wanted him to go away. He had not had time to reply for she had run off back to her room.

Now that she was twelve, though, she knew that she could not get away with such insolence. And she was too old to call him Willsy anymore. She was a young lady now … she even had breasts, although they were so small you could hardly see them unless you were looking really hard. But she was proud if them anyway, because they meant she was finally growing up. The bad part about growing up was that she now had to be polite and always act proper. Her childish rebelliousness was no longer considered cute. And, in truth, she didn't want to make her mother or Henry angry at her.

Still, she didn't really like Lord Dorchester. Except for the presents.

When she reached the corner she had been hiding behind, Margaret stood up, pushing her hair behind her shoulders again, and surveyed her work. The coin was there in plain sight and the string could hardly be seen. Perfect. Slipping back around the corner and peeking out every now and then, the young girl waited in anticipation for the door to finally open.
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William walked into the rooms of Lady Devon, Princess of York, just to the right and a step behind his friend Henri. Smiling as his friend greeted his mother, he stood silently during the exchange. He would give anything to be back among the thick of his family; in England it was just not quite the same.

When Henri presented him, he gave a deep bow, still managing to be graceful with his ever taller body. "Madame," he greeted. He straightened and inclined his head, still smiling, as she spoke to him. Her use of some French made him feel much more comfortable here. He would not be made to feel disgraceful because of his own mother from this lady or in this house.

"I am well, Madame," he said, his deepening voice almost still having that boyish chirp to it that betrayed his happiness. He came forward at her beckoning, taking bother her hands in his and kissing them before returning the embrace the woman offered him, as she had Henri. "I hope I find you well? My journey was very fine indeed and the time I spent on the continent, especially in France. I have brought you back gifts. A rug and tapestry from the Barbary Coast." he turned and waved to his servant accompanying him who had his gifts, indicating to show the wares to the lady. "Henri knows me quite well, Madame, he is an excellent friend and host. I thank you for being amenable to his decision to have me break my journey here so that we can continue back to court together..." He paused, his lips quirking shamelessly, "But not too quickly." Truth be told, he would be quite happy spending his time in Devon with Henri and forgetting about court.

They spoke with the lady for some little while and finally settled that they would all dine shortly. When he and Henri left the room, William noticed a large, shiny coin on the ground. His eyebrow went up, then his eyes narrowed, and he looked at Henry while clearing his throat very quietly. That had not been there when they first passed, and he doubted right outside the door was a place where someone dropped a coin by happenstance and didn't hear it to pick it up. He had heard the stories of Henri's sister, and he had assuredly been a target previously. Being used to younger children, William usually just played along with her fun.

"Ah, Henri, did you drop a coin?" he asked, rather rhetorically. "No? Well then." He leaned down as if he would pick it up.

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