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c'est la vie, mon ami; tag;;Wills
Topic Started: Sep 17 2011, 10:13 PM (549 Views)
Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
"I am glad to hear you are well, Guillaume. I, too, am well, thank you for your inquiry." The still regal princess looked at the gifts the young man brought her, and she shook her head. "Many thanks, my lord, though it was unnecessary. The rug and tapestry are both very beautiful." Her eyes swept over the wares, and she dismissed the servant with a wave of the hand. "They can be taken to my chambers and then I will decide what to do with them from there."

Her eyes twinkled and shone with warmth as he spoke of her son. This young man seemed to always hold such reverence and respect for her son that it touched her. "No thanks is needed. You are indeed gracious with your compliments, Guillaume; now, if only my Henry will find himself a beautiful wife, he would make me a proud mother."

Henry felt his ears grow hot and he rubbed the back of his neck, much like always when a topic embarrassed him. "Mother, please. You know my thoughts on the matter." Yes, he was aware it was his duty, and that he needed to wed and produce strong sons. "But wasn't it you who told me that in the affairs of marriage I needed to listen to the heart above the mind? I have that luxury, do I not?"

"A topic best saved for the evening meal, I think." Catherine nodded. "I shall see you both then, yes?"

Henry nodded, and bowed. "Indeed mother. We shall both see you then." Both of them left the room, and it was then that the two young men noticed the shiny coin on the floor. Margaret. William's brow went up and he cleared his throat. Henry knew the joke very well, and he took his friend's response as fact that he was aware of the joke.

The earl understood his sister's feelings on William very well, for when she was very little all she cared for were the presents. Margaret was very vocal on the fact she hated him. Now, she was less vocal on the issue, but he could still detect some modicum of hostility there.

"Ah, I do fear that it is my coin, my friend. I am so glad that you took notice of it. Here, let me pick it up..." he put a finger to his lips and crept down the hall, tiptoing to where he was certain Margaret would be hiding. "I wonder where my petit fleur has gone off to, especially since she has presents. Oh well, I do suppose that we can just give them to mother; she'll enjoy them very much." Henry indulged Margaret much more than he should have, and was often a willing, and unwilling participant in her pranks and games.
[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 she heard the doors being pulled open, Margaret knelt down and peeked stealthily around the corner, an impish smirk turning up the corners of her lips. She was going to fool him again just as she always did. Holding her breath, she watched as the two young men entered the hallway. Sure enough, Willsy noticed the coin and bent to pick it up. Her grin widened and her fingers flexed around the string wrapped securely around her hand, prepared to give it just a tiny little pull so that the coin would move only a bit out of reach.

And then … then Henry had to go and ruin everything by saying that the coin was his. Her mischievous grin transformed into a sullen pout as she pulled her head back around the corner and flattened herself against the wall, tears welling up behind her vivid blue eyes. Why had he done that? He knew the prank and it was perfectly harmless. Why had he felt the need to make certain his friend did not get taken in by the joke … at his own sister's expense? Now no matter what she did, she would look guilty and they would both laugh at her. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Lord Dorchester was a bad influence on Henry. She had been willing to give him another chance, but now she could see that he was still trying to turn her brother against her.

Margaret hated him still.

She could hear Henry's voice as he moved closer to where she was hiding. He would find her soon and then what? She would be humiliated by the both of them. And yet her brother's voice was playful, and he mentioned presents. Despite her sour mood, her heart thumped with excitement at the thought of getting gifts, even if they did come from the most appalling person in the entire world. Unless they were from Henry. He often brought her presents.

The young girl took a deep breath and let it out again. What should she do? She couldn't let Henry find her hiding around a corner. Hmmmm … maybe she could fool both of them in another way. At least then she would have the upper hand.

Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath and then stepped from around the corner, trying to look as if she were simply strolling through the corridors. “Henry!” she exclaimed in mock surprise. “I was looking all over for you!” Grimacing inwardly, she turned to her brother's guest, knowing that she had to be polite even though what she really wanted to do was stick out her tongue. “And it so nice to see you again, Lord … William.”

Margaret had forgotten that the string was still wrapped around her hand, and when she dropped him a curtsy, the coin jerked across the floor and landed at the tip of one delicate shoe. Blushing profusely and embarrassed to within an inch of her life, she pretended to ignore it.

If either of them laugh at me, she thought, I am going to slap them.
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
Yes, William knew from the look on his friend's face that this was indeed some trick. He swallowed and then smiled, his eyebrows going up in amusement as Henry indicated he should be quite. Meanwhile, William did bend down to pick up the coin, because he had his own fun in mind; however, he never got that far. She came out from behind the corner with 'guilty' written right across her forehead. He gave her a bow instead of picking up the coin which then aptly skittered across the floor to her shoe.

William raised an eyebrow and then walked a few steps forward and picked up the coin, holding it in his hand.

"Mademoiselle! Do not you know what it means to give an eligible gentleman money by your hand?" he asked, pretending to be momentarily astounded. "Henri! Surely you would not sell your sister so cheaply," he said, giving his friend a wink and a nudge. "But what shall we do, she has given me money. We should go tell your mother the happy news. If she cannot have a bride for you, perhaps a future husband for Margaret would please her?"

He turned to the young girl, "It is good I have brought you gifts but perhaps I should have brought more? He would not keep the charade up too long. It was amusing...money changing hands between a maiden and a single man certainly could constitute a betrothal. He held back a sudden snort of amusement, his adam's apple bobbing as he tried to hold everything in with a straight face. A betrothal. God's Blood no. This little terror would end up tarring and feathering him.

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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
Henry wanted so desperately to laugh at the way his sister was behaving, but he managed to keep a straight face as she rounded the corner. "You were looking for me? Well, here I am, ma petit fleur. I was wondering where you were and why you weren't with mother, greeting our guest. You may greet him now. May I present the Viscount of Dorchester." He stared at her, saying be nice without the need for words, for he was well aware of how his sister felt about William. Silly girlish notions, and no matter how much he told her he loved her, those notions remained the same. Oh well. She would grow out of it eventually.

He could not hold in his amusement for long, not when the coin landed at the tip of her shoe and William mentioning something about money changing hands. "Ah ha! I knew it was a trick all along, dear sister." His own hand went over his mouth to try and stifle the laughter, though it did not help...chuckles seeped out from beneath the cracks of his fingers. "You could not fool me for very long."

And William was playing right along with the charade. This was, indeed, too funny.

"I suppose the viscount is right. This is not a trick. I was wanting to give my sister away in marriage so badly that I was willing to set her dowry at any price. Even the price of one gold coin. And mon ami, you should have brought her more presents; that's what a man does for his betrothed..." Henry trailed off as the laughter came out, for he could hold it in no longer. "Oh, Margaret, you should know by now that the coin trick is one I know all too well, and I would let my friend know he is about to be duped." He held out his arms to his sister. "But I suppose I can forgive you. Come, give me a hug and all shall be well, ma petit. Je t'aime, Marguerite."
[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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Margaret's mouth fell open in shock and horror, and her heartbeat quickened within her. What?!? Just because she had played a trick on Willsy, now she had to marry him? It had just been a joke; she had not actually given him the coin. And Henry knew the trick, but he acted like William was right, and that she was now betrothed to the one person she hated most in all the world.

No, it couldn't be true!

And they were smiling as if it were the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. Her eyes flickered to the door from which they had recently emerged, as if within lay her salvation. Certainly her mother would not approve of such a match. But … what if it was her idea all along? Her mother liked William. Maybe she thought that he would be a good husband for her only daughter. It was not so unusual for a girl to be betrothed at her age.

Why would the stupid viscount even want to marry her? He knew how she felt about him. She had told him many times how much she loathed him. Did he think she would change her mind just because she was betrothed to him? If so, he could think again.

And then Henry admitted that he was the one who wanted her to marry his pathetic friend. And that he was willing to sell her for only one gold coin! If she had not been so appalled, she would have realized that they had quite successfully turned the tables on her. Margaret was an intelligent girl, yet the notion of marrying William was so terrifying and made her so angry that she simply could not move beyond it.

Her blue eyes flashed fire as she gazed up at her brother, and she stamped her tiny foot like a much younger child. “I will not marry him!” Her voice was petulant. “I won't!” Glancing over at William, she added: “He's too tall and too old and too ugly! And if you try to make me, I'll … I'll ...” She paused for a moment as she tried to think of something suitably dire. “I'll go jump out a window!”

Henry started laughing, and confessed that he and William had just been teasing her. Ordinarily, she would have kicked them both in the shins, but she was so relieved that she did not have to marry Lord Dorchester that the thought did not occur to her. Still, she stared at her brother a bit dubiously for a moment before she flew into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I love you too, Henry,” she whispered against the rich fabric of his doublet. She refused to answer him in French because she didn't want William to know how well she spoke it … just in case he said something about her in that language when he thought she couldn't understand.

“It is you who should ask for my forgiveness,” she said as she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace. Tilting her blonde head to the side like a cute little kitten, she glanced from one young man to the other. “You and Willsy both. But ...” She favored them with a sweet but quite calculating smile. “... I'll settle for presents.”
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William could hardly keep his laughter at bay either. From his friend's chastisement, to the young lady's horror, it was just too perfect. How her intent had been turned around on her, and she fell for it completely. She looked so shocked and terrified, like a wee little doe cornered by the dogs. A sharp pang went through him. He did feel a bit badly, but it served her right for trying to play tricks on them!

"I am sorry, I should have brought more presents, you are right," he lamented to his friend.

Then she erupted, and he laughed unabashedly as she tore him to shreds and melodramatically said that she would jump out a window.

"Join a convent is the typical threat," he whispered to her, loudly, before chuckling a bit more. "Too tall? Too old? God's Blood Henri, do you hear this? But in France, I am lauded as being a beautiful specimen of a virile young man." He hoped that she would think twice before doing such a thing to them again. Who knew what she might attempt next. He might find himself covered in honey!

William stood back as brother and sister embraced, and his eyebrow went up, unimpressed as she called him Willsy and said that he ought to ask her forgiveness.

"It was not I who set about to do wicked things," he replied, with a cheeky grin. "But I shall thrill you with presents from foreign places. Foreign places where they have pigments you cannot get here." Knowing that the little girl liked art, it seemed a perfect gift.
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Henry Courtenay
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Marquess of Exeter, Earl of Devon
This was priceless. Even more so that his friend was playing along, and that his sister, in her youthful naivety, was actually believing it. "Lord Dorchester! How do you expect to keep my sister happy with so few presents? My goodness, no wonder she thinks you're too tall, too old, and too ugly. Though Margaret, I am afraid that you do not have the right to join a convent or to jump out a window. I am the lord of this house, and you must do as I say." Henry would never make his sister do anything she did not wish to do. If she wanted to stay an old maid, she would stay an old maid. Margaret was not going to wed anyone she did not at least care about, or love. He would not have it.

"The women in France, Guillaume, have different perceptions of beauty, I'm afraid. My sister is used to the English ideal: fair and golden, when you are anything but." The charade did not continue for too much longer, because Henry could no longer keep his laughter under control. A bit of friendly teasing was in order, in regards to his sister, and at first he was afraid that she would hurl insults at him or stalk off to her chambers. Instead, she flew into his arms and declared that she loved him as well.

"Merci, Marguerite." He allowed her to step out of his embrace, and then it was his turn to raise a brow at her brazen declaration of wanting and wishing for presents. "Quelle honte, Marguerite! A lady does not tell what she expects! And she expects nothing. Your tutors, and mother, I am sure, have taught you that. Guillaume, I am afraid that I shall have to hold on to her gift until she can learn to be a bit more charitable." He placed his hands behind his back, and shook his head. "Ma chθre sœur, you know that I love you, but you need to learn patience. It is one of the most important of all virtues."

He wouldn't wish to entirely change his sister's personality, oh no. God made her the way she was for a reason and a purpose, which he didn't presume to guess or no. But like any other person, she needed a few gentle reminders every now and again.

"Now, since it is just the three of us, what do you wish to do before we dine? Conversation is always preferable." Henry knew his sister oft felt left out any time William came to visit, so he was trying to include her, at least this one time before they went to do things better suited to gentlemen. "We can retire to my receiving area. Marguerite, would you not like to show Lord Dorchester your paintings, or do a recitation for him?" He glanced at William, and mouthed, be nice. "Perhaps if you are agreeable, then I shall let our guest give you your present."
[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
Unregistered

Margaret barely suppressed rolling her eyes when William commented that joining a convent was the typical threat. She wanted to hiss back that she was not a typical girl, so why should she make a typical threat? But before she could say anything, Henry told her that she didn't have the right to either join a convent or jump out a window. In truth, she wasn't sure which was worse … spending the rest of her life with Willsy or cutting her hair, wearing black, and praying all the time. She really had no inclination to do either, but if she did, her brother might be able to stop her from running off to a convent, but he couldn't prevent her from jumping out a window if she really wanted to.

Not that she did.

And of course Henry would try to make his friend feel better by saying that she had a certain perception of beauty, even though it wasn't true. Lord Dorchester was ugly and Henry probably knew it too. But of course he could never say so. That would be a really mean thing to say to your friend. She wanted to tell him that anyone who thought he was handsome had to be utterly blind, but she thought better of it. He already knew what she thought of his appearance, so there was no need to rub it in. And it would make Henry angry.

Even though he looked like he wanted to laugh instead.

And then the joke was out, and she was so relieved that she couldn't even bring herself to be upset. Once the initial shock wore off, she realized that they had cleverly fooled her when she had first set out to fool them. She had to respect them for that, she supposed, and perhaps she could learn from it. The next time she set out to play a practical joke, she would think it out a bit more.

Her eyes lit up when William hinted at the contents of his gift. “Ohhhh!” she breathed. “You brought me paints?” There was nothing Margaret loved more than to paint, and she had been told she was very good for her age. Her mother had even hired a professional painter to give her lessons, which she greatly enjoyed.

Yet Henry had to go and ruin it all … again … by telling her that she had no right to expect presents, or anything else for that matter. Yes, she had been taught that a woman should never make demands, and she knew it was true and Henry was right to remind her of it. But she wasn't a woman yet and she believed they owed her something for playing such a cruel trick on her. Her own trick had been relatively harmless, but what they had done to her was not. At least not in her opinion.

He did give her an option to compensate for her mistake ... when she thought that he would probably send her away instead so that he and his friend could be alone. The fact that he was willing to include her was quite surprising and she really did want that gift.

Appearing suitably chastised … even though it was mostly pretense … Margaret looked down at the floor. “I am sorry, Henry,” she said. “I promise I will remember my place from now on.”

Raising her eyes, the capricious girl stood up straight with all the poise that she had been taught. One could see the promise of the elegant and gracious young woman she would one day be once she finally put aside her childish ways. “I would be pleased to join the two of you for conversation before dinner,” she said in the formal voice her mother had coached her in.

Turning to the viscount, she curtsied to him again. “Would you like to see my paintings, Wi … Lord Dorchester? I have improved since you were here last. I can go and get a couple of them and bring them to my brother's chambers if you would like.”

Inwardly, she sighed. Oh, what she had to go through just to get a present!
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Isabel Leigh
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Virtue alone is invincible.
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