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we've come this far,; anne shilston!
Topic Started: Dec 16 2011, 04:25 PM (147 Views)
Leonard Stanhope
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December 1512

Since that eventful morning within the woods, Leonard’s mind had remained occupied. It felt as if the memory had implanted itself upon the forefront of his mind; the chill in his bones from the relentless snow and brisk wind, the comforting ache of his thighs from remaining atop his mare for an extended period, the instinct to turn at an insignificant landmark, the worry in his stomach as he saw her lying there … No one wished to be responsible for a death, least of all this knight.

Sitting in his chambers, earthen gaze entranced by the flames of the hearth that lit up the room considerably, although the hour could not have been beyond that of midday, Leonard wondered what had become of her. In the hot, orange flickering lights, the knight recalled the morning before in a perfect sequence of events. He had not asked why she had gone out that day, and what the reason for her troubles was. He had done his duty, had returned her to her home, and had taken his leave. Rising from his chair and pacing the length of floor between it and the hearth, melted snow dripping from his boots to the stones underneath his heels, Leonard ran a hand through his light hair. It was evident that, if he was ever to convince himself that the Lady Shilston was alright, he had to go visit her himself.

Leonard said little to his servants as he left his chambers and prepared Alegra for an afternoon’s ride. It seemed too soon, perhaps, to ride off into the fields of snow once more. But the Stanhope’s curiosity retrieved the better of him, and with a gentle nudge of the heel and flick of the reigns, the both of them began their short journey.

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Welcomed into the London house, Leonard was greeted with bright, thankful faces from that of the servants. The knight supposed that was purely normality after having delivered their mistress from an experience that was potentially fatal. “Our sincere apologies, but I am afraid that Sir John Shilston is not here …” An older woman, possibly four and thirty with a head of hair the shade of a raven’s feather but as dry as a wiry as a boar’s coat, with small and sharp beady eyes. “I do not wish to see Sir John, but rather his wife …. Is she home?” Leonard had asked; glad to find that not all looks were curious. Some understood, while others may have thought it inappropriate. But if Sir Leonard desired the approval of a servant, he’d ask for it.

Leading him up a level of stairs and through a corridor before announcing their visitor’s presence, Leonard exhaled heavily as he was signaled to enter. The knight wasn’t confident whether or not he was nervous in regards to the opportunity to see her again, or to the fact that she could have been in a poorer state than he had left her. “I apologize that I came without warning.” He said, tone hesitant. “I’m here to collect my cloak.” It was a flimsy excuse, something that may as well have been a transparent window to the truth. If Leonard had really wished only to retrieve his cloak, then the knight would have simply called for some servants to run this particular errand. Clearing his throat and finally flickering his earthen gaze onto the Lady Shilston, “How are you?” It was a genuine question, not the three empty words of small talk that two ladies might ask due to propriety. As much as Leonard tried to avoid it, he could not help but care for her wellbeing.
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Anne Shilston
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Anne had almost forgave her husband again, how many times had she done that? How many times would she have to do it? No she didn’t want to think about it, the pain was too raw. She had cried much throughout the night, wishing for the millionth time that she had someone to turn to, she had no one. No one who was part of this wrecked family she continually had to try and piece together. Why couldn’t John see that she needed a break? Had he realised how close she was from throwing herself off the balcony all because of him and what he done to hurt her so many countless times? No, the only thing he could…no what he wanted to see was everything that resolved around him. Well that’s how it should be shouldn’t it? The man was everything and the woman was nothing but the release of an ache the man had, to satisfy his lust, to satisfy his need for a family. Anne once understood that was all she was needed for, but she was sick of mending her heart, which is why she sent her husband away. And now it was time for her boys to be sent away too.

She didn’t believe John was rightfully gone, he may still turn up to ensure his sons were given safe travel, but whatever the case he was not here when Anne woke up and for that she was glad. She didn’t want to face him again; she hoped she would never have to. But she was his wife and he her husband, yet the only thing they shared was the parentage of their sons. Was she purely acting like this because she missed the days when he adored her? If she knew what her future may hold back then, would she have married him, perhaps even hated him the very day they were betrothed? Probably so, because why would she want to marry someone who first refused to believe their first son was his and she had to bring forth this child into the world on her own, when it should have been a happy moment that she had been finally able to give her husband a son, let alone a child. She didn’t think she would ever see her husband again after that, but she supposed curiosity got the better of him and he finally came to see that with those eyes matching his own that this child was his.

And now she was sending that child away, along with his new little brother. Perhaps, she had returned to London too soon, she now saw why it was so idiotic of her to race back to see if her husband truly had survived. For what he did to her in the past and the more current events, she should have wished him dead. Her next husband would surely be more compassionate towards her right? But no she was stuck with the one she had and if she was to survive this marriage, she needed time to herself. What she would do though, she had no clue. It seemed almost silly, but she was bound to find something. Just the thought of having no husband to yell at her or children to cry for her was already a soothing thought. John had already sent ahead a letter to his sister so she would be ready to receive her nephews by the time they got there.

Anne was undergoing the last of the preparations for the send off of her boys when Sir Leonard Stanhope was announced. With her youngest in her arms, she turned and beamed at the sight of the man. She owed everything to him and his presence now told her that perhaps she could make it through. Before she could get a word in though, young William charged the man and wrapped his arms around Leo’s legs in a hug as he squealed with delight. “Sir Dragon Knight!” Anne smiled and shook her head at her son’s enthusiasm at seeing one of the men who had gone with him on his dragon hunt. But she didn’t want to scare the poor man away. William.

William checked himself and let Leo go before stepping back and bowing to the man and then excitedly saying. “We’re going home to see Auntie Gracie, so I can tells her how we killeds that dragon!” Anne smiled and shook her head again, before nodding and handing Michael over to one of the servants in the room, and another took William by the hand. “Off you go William, and be a good boy for your Aunt.” “Yes, Mama. Bye Sir Dragon Knight!” He waved at them both as he was led out of the room; Anne blew him a kiss and returned her attention to Leo, giving him a soft smile. “Sorry about that, he really loves his dragons. But yes I am fine…” She paused and her smile became sad. “Well as well as I can be. And yes I have your cloak…somewhere here.” She turned around in the guest room she had been using, there was no way she would have kept it in the rooms she used to share with her husband, their marriage was on the rocks enough as it is. She began to lift things, fabrics and boxes and opened trunks trying to remember where she had hidden that cloak of his, only to pause to press a finger to her lips in thought, giving Leo an apologetic smile. “I know it’s here, I saw it a moment ago, I’m sure of it.” The last thing she wanted now was to have failed two men in the same week and it was likely that she had a worried look on her face. “Oh I hope it wasn’t packed up with the boys’ things.”
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER

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Leonard Stanhope
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As Leonard was welcomed into the room, the knight had strode in, usual stance –shoulders set back, jaw raised-, the man had predicted very little of the outcome of his hopefully insignificant visit. Almost losing balance as a tight pair of arms wrapped around his legs, Leonard looked down at the familiar boy. William. Messing his hair with a weighty hand as he detached himself, Leonard couldn’t help but grin as the child exclaimed his enthusiasm for the hunt of dragons that the Stanhope had played part to. It had been a rather peculiar afternoon, but it was a kind enough thing for the King’s steward to do. There was no crime or dishonor in forgetting responsibilities for such a short hour of time, even if it was only to satisfy the whims of a boy, and grant a few men an excuse to satisfy their own.

Crouching down and gently gripping the boy by the shoulder, Leonard kept his expression serious, although his lips teased at the promise of a small smirk. “Tell your Aunt that you fought bravely.” Earthen gaze glinting with mischief, the knight returned to his stance as William tugged persistently on a servant’s hand until they had left the room. Exhaling a heavy, inaudible sigh, caused his chest to fall, Leonard turned casually and watched the person he had come to see. “ … I am fine …” Brows furrowing and expression growing concerned, the Stanhope wondered if the Lady Shilston really expected him to believe her words. And if she did, it would take much more than a few sentences that were without sincerity, and a sad smile.

“I know it’s here,” Leonard watched as her hands fleeted over several objects, inanimate things like fabrics and trunks, before he recognized similar signs of anxiety that were most common in maidservants under the order of a pitiful oaf. Perturbed, the knight took a single step forward. “Lady Shilston?” He asked quietly, as if only to softly stir awake a child. “… I’m sure of it …” But she ignored him, and the Stanhope wondered why it had become so evidently vital that she find it. He had placed no importance on it, Leonard had merely used it as an excuse, and if it was only to make things worse for the woman, the knight would leave it all together. Taking another few steps forward and taking her arm gently so that she might turn to look at him, Leonard began, “Anne.” His tone was confident, as if he had all the right and permission to address her as such. “It is only a cloak.” The knight spoke softer now, before continuing. “The world will not end if it is not found.” Leonard offered a small smile and watched her carefully, hazel irises gazing over her softly flushed cheeks and the gentle waves of dark hair, before their direction was placed over his hand that had taken grip of her arm.“Oh.” Releasing her and taking a step back, the knight frowned again, disapproving of his own behavior. “I am sorry.” Exhaling heavily from his nostrils, flaring with his own internal frustration, his gaze flickered to the door’s exit before finding her again. Such a slight form she was, hardly a woman whom was in the epitome of her health. But Leonard could hardly suppose there was much escape from whatever it was that plagued her, from whatever it was that had chased her into the dangerous cold of a Winter’s morning.
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Anne Shilston
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Anne could only smile warmly at the knight as he was quite happy to entertain her son and encourage him with his fantasy. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched them. Oh how she wished she had married someone like him. A father was meant to be everything Leonard was, but her own husband would rather discourage such fantasies and went as far as disbelieving the very fact that William was in fact his and not another’s. A single tear slid down Anne’s cheek, but when she came to notice it, she quickly wiped it away with her hand. She had always tried to be strong for her boys, but John would never be happy until she was broken and that she was. She had to be for her to send her precious boys away. She was just lucky that John permitted her to do it; he probably thought his sister Grace would be a better motherly figure to his sons than Anne was right at that moment. But didn’t he see, that it was all his fault?

Once she realised that she was alone with the knight, she grew nervous, afraid of what she might do with this opportunity given to her. It was why she frantically began to search for his cloak, but not only that, she didn’t want to think about what John would do if he ever found another man’s cloak stashed away in her rooms. Oh why did she have to be like this, she was sick of it! She hated what John had done to her, but what she hated more was her stupidity for loving a man who was cruel to her. He never cared for her; he was and will always be a selfish bastard. With all these silly thoughts in her mind, she barely even heard Leo, and wasn’t even aware that he had now approached her until he took hold of her arm and turned her carefully to look at him. Oh she hated this more! For a split second she expected to be yelled at, but his voice was soft and caring and even his hand on her arm was gentle. No, this most certainly was not her husband.

She looked down at her feet for a moment, ashamed that she had failed him too. “I’m sorry, I…” Though as he insisted that it wasn’t the end of the world that she could not find his cloak, she lifted her head up to meet his gaze…and his smile. She could feel a weird sensation spread throughout her. Just once she wanted to learn how it felt to be loved by someone gentle and caring. She knew now that he hadn’t come all this way for a silly cloak that she had misplaced, he had come to see her because he was concerned. John had used his mistresses to escape from her, so why couldn’t she have this once to escape from him?

When Leo realised he was still holding onto her arm, he let her go and stepped back and she gave him a tiny smile. “It’s ok.” Her hopes now fell, how silly she was to think that he would want her. And seeing him glance towards the door, she frowned lightly and stepped towards him. She lightly grasped his sleeve and looked up into his hazel eyes. “Don’t go…” Before she could stop herself, her free hand came up and stroked the side of his face; her soft delicate fingers brushing over the light roughness of his jawline. “Please don’t go.” She hadn’t realised how close she had come to him, it was too close to be considered appropriate for a married woman with a man who was not her husband. But she had forgotten all about her husband now, because isn’t that what he did with her when he delved between the thighs of his countless mistresses?

Her thumb lightly slid over his lips as she breathed out his name with a hint of urgency. Leo. This was her chance now to live and forget. But who would have thought that the salvation she needed would be in the arms of another man. She had to make the first move though, to test him of course. He could either accept her or refuse her, but at least she could have just one kiss right? Before he could stop her, she leaned up and in the moment when she removed her thumb from his lips, she replaced it with her own and kissed him softly.
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Isabel Leigh
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Virtue alone is invincible.
This thread has been archived either due to forwarding of board timeline or because of a month of inactivity. If you would like to continue, please PM an Admin!
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