CROWN & COUNTRY.

there is only one sin, only one. and that is theft. every other sin is a variation of theft. john somerset, duke of clarence. (sideblog to liddyswoodthorpe). character apart of jewelcladcourtrp. viewer discretion advised.

[clarrences]

henrydeclare:

“I will attend,” Harry said, regarding his fellow Duke with some interest. The question had been loaded, but Harry was not adverse to declaring his support for the crown – and the match. “Though,” he admitted, “I would rather not, for personal preference rather than political. Long nights of socialisation to not entirely agree with me. And you? Will you partake of such Danish entertainments?”

Henry and John were kindred in their support of the Danish engagement, that much was true. They both likely viewed it as a political opportunity as well as an advantage for England herself, John rationalized with a soupçon of interest. “Assuredly – you may count upon my presence, your grace. What reason have I to abstain, other than that which you have previously mentioned? I assume the Duchess d’Olbreuse will be wielding her social prowess?”

[dcvcrcaux-blog]

all i wanna hear her say is “ are you  m i n e  ?  ”

henriette devereaux  &  john somerset ( @clarrences )

[clarrences]

                 The discussion of politics left room for both err and controversy, especially where the recent engagement was concerned. John, for his part, supported the match; he viewed it in a light that seemed to suggest that England could have chosen far worse than Denmark, that was for certain. “I have yet to meet the princess Caroline,” he remarked simply, drawing a China dish to his mouth, “though I have met her namesake. The queen is as fluent in English as she is witticism, I must admit. Will you attend the banquet in honor of the match, or have you chosen to abstain?”

[mueller-mueller]

[lostcap]

You love him. The story still ends.

there is no absolution for the fallen, only the dying | p.d  (via emilyofrph)

[justanotherrpmeme]

bold which habits your muse has

[clarrences]

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back or their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders | over-sharing | praying | daydreaming | keeping journals | play-writing | pocketing stuff that doesn’t belong to them | coin tricks | table games | 

[clarrences]

prudencesomerset:

Prudence shrugged. “One must find a seamstress as likable as they would find a wife, I suppose. There is a great deal of trust involved in both situations.” In truth, Prudence was always on the lookout for a woman who might please her brother. He deserved a loving wife, and his son a doting mother. “Of course I will look after her. But she is not a child anymore, John, nor am I.” Her brows rose at the mention of his friends and a small smirk took over her lips. “And you frown upon your sisters being the envy of all?” she asked as she took a seat. “I rather enjoy their fascination.”

      John stared at his sister incredulously. Surely she did not expect him to lump a seamstress and wife in the same category? Egad, the very thought. He brushed over her commentary, refusing to remark, and closed the desk of his drawer. “Child or not, there is still much she can learn from you.”  His brows pulled together as Prudence spoke – not for the first time, admittedly. “I would caution you to tread lightly. Being the cynosure is all the more attention paid to our family. Undue exposure could be any man’s undoing – as you well know.” 

[clarrences]

catherinesomerset:

“There is a look. I know it well.  It’s the look our father used to give Prudence and I when we’d be called into his study to answer for why we had escaped to the gardens instead of attending our lessons.” Catherine smiled, lingering on the sweet memory of her youth. His worry of the company she kept brought a wicked grin to her face. He was her brother, after all, she couldn’t be serious all the time around her own family. “There are a great deal of rich merchants making their way through court, I believe. Surely they can’t all be bad for a lady’s reputation?” There was some truth to that, though it was every lady’s first lesson that not all men had good intentions. “Yes, she did. We ran into a few of your friends from the military, the ones that used to visit our country home. They were sweet and gentlemanly as always. There is no need to worry.”

           “Surely you don’t find me comparable to our father. I am not nearly as uncompromising.” His brow flickered at that, as if daring Catherine to say something to the contrary. Their father had been as militaristic on the battlefield as in the household. John responded to his harshness well, though he understood his sisters could often be considered a... different breed. They were mischievous, lively, and above all expected to find husbands. “Individually, no, but in numbers they can be. I wish you would accept my invitation to meet with the marquis I introduced you to over the summer,” John remarked, referencing to a stodgy young gentleman who had recently come into vast fortune. He was insipid, but he was wealthy. “You would limit the need to go through this whole... courting business. And limit any such interactions with my companions.” 

[clarrences]

dcvcrcaux:

@clarrences

Audley End House was buzzing with the excitement of the impending announcements regarding relations with Denmark, its residents leaning in close to one another to discuss what the outcome may be. Henriette was conversing with a fellow lady-in-waiting on the very topic when a pleasantly familiar face caught her eye. He was dressed in an immaculate fashion, not a seam or thread out of place, and stood in conversation with his hands clasped behind his back. It gave him an air of authority and sophistication, neither of which were feigned for the benefit of the courtiers about him. 

Her mind strayed from her companion’s words to the events of the week’s-end past: flirtatious conversation, ill-fated rides, and sweet embraces which drove out the cold of a sudden rain. The memories were still fresh and brought a satisfied smile to her face as she replayed them over and over. As if he had felt her gaze, Hattie suddenly found her eyes locking with his. She murmured an excuse to the other woman and fell back into a more leisurely gate, allowing him to fall in step with her. “Are you enjoying the afternoon, Your Grace?” she asked, glancing sideways in his direction though not taking the risk to face him fully.

              The gardens of Audley End were flourishing with Mulberry trees and political discourse. The recent season of rain in England had made green the expanse of the estate, and given rise to a new spell of gossip, bewitching every nobleman, woman, and servant’s tongue. Somerset, himself, was not exempt from interest; but he often refused to comment, offering instead a grin of presumed agreement, but could in truth mean any number of things – it was best to keep mum when he sought to reason, not retaliate; inspire, not instigate. He was, after all, the consummate politician. With his hands clasped neatly behind his tailcoat, John turned away from Earl Spenser’s commentary on King Christian’s outlandish behaviour, and his straying gaze was met with the darkened eyes of Henriette Devereaux. His cheeks tinged slightly as their eyes met, and a soft smile mused upon his lips – independent on the current political discussion he was engaged in. 

John excused himself amicably and set his foot in the direction of Lady Olbreuse’s lady-in-waiting. At first unassumingly, he fell into step with Henriette, his fingertips toying together behind his back. The coquetry of their behaviour was not lost on him and he enjoyed the secrecy of their encounter. “Most certainly I am, in fact more than I had expected,” he replied, stealing a glance in her direction. “And you, Miss Devereaux? I hope the sudden change in weather is to your liking.” The duke bent his head slightly to accommodate for her shorter stature, and murmured close to her ear, his voice low and smooth: “and may I add, that you look particularly becoming this afternoon? The sun suits you as well as the rain.” 

[incorrectturnquotes]

[clarrences]

[clarrences]

dcvcrcaux:

She led him into the parlor, all the while feeling his eyes on her as she walked. It made her excruciatingly aware of each step, of the way she held herself. Never before had she the responsibility of entertaining a duke–and why should she, when her mistress knew them all and possessed the station and disposition to do so–and the fear that she would shame both herself and the house she served was ever-present. If I should dishonor the duchess or her husband, my reputation at court will surely be endangered. 

“’Lackluster?’“ she repeated, glancing back at him briefly. “Her Grace would hardly appreciate that sentiment. Some noble ladies have a tendency to surround themselves with women of lesser beauty, if only to enhance their own, but I do not believe my mistress to be thus.” Coyness aside, Hattie felt her cheeks flush just so. She tried to hide her change in color as they sat, pouring tea into the cups set out before them. “It is true, I have not been long employed within this household but I do hope to be here for some time.”

“How do you take your tea, Your Grace?”

           “Nay, some women seem to flourish in any environment, and when they are not around the topic of discussion is usually about them. But, you seem to combat the Duchess’ social whims remarkably well. Regardless, I assume it is not the sociality of the position that entices.” John strode into the magnificent parlor room as he spoke, his Hessian boots strutting against the hard-wood floor. He quickly moved toward the small table where the tea had been prepared, and gently moved Lady Henriette’s hand away as he beseeched, “allow me. I am, after all, imposing on your precious time. Its the least I could do to beguile the hour.” 

The corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin, “guess. My taste in tea is rather uncommon, but it comes with the trade of having spent half a twelvemonth in India.” John enjoyed his tea entirely black – he hadn’t the taste for the saccharine, but he found that a slice of lemon complimented the taste of Bohea, the recent tea fad in London. 

[clarrences]

prudencesomerset:

The event of a smile from John grew rarer and rarer as they grew older, so Prudence could not help but return it. “You will like her, she’s a delight. With an eye for color that is unmatched by any other seamstress I have met before. Your sisters shall be the envy of all, Your Grace.” This was something that Prudence had missed since she was a small child - the Somerset siblings were now all together once more. Almost, of course. “Kitty is wonderful,” Prudence responded emphatically, meaning it with all of her heart. “She will thrive here, I am certain of it. She is much too pretty and clever to be locked away in the country.”

         “You sound like you are trying to matchmake, sister, not entice me to buy you new bolts. It is an unseemly combination.” John nodded as Prudence spoke of their sister, although he was not entirely convinced. He would have to see for himself her assimilation into court before deeming if it was an auspicious decision to formally present her. “But she is impressionable and wet behind the ears. Look after her. You must know the signs of what to deter her from – and, for the love of all that is holy, do not allow her within twenty meters of anyone whom I would associate with. I fear my sisters have been the subject of their fascination for far too long.”

[clarrences]

prudencesomerset:

“Oh, certainly. I must have to have a talk with Kitty, the girl has no sense when it comes to money,” Prudence responded casually, as if she was not equally responsible (or perhaps more responsible) for the coin leaving the Somerset accounts. “That being said, we are due to visit Miss Taliyah soon…summer is already upon us, it seems.” Plucking a berry from the bowl on the table, Prue sighed. “It is. But some of these people are very tiresome. I would rather not be exhausted before my midday meal.”

         Prudence’s remark elicited a small, barely perceptible chuckle from John. It was true his sisters had a perchance to jump on whatever trends were made fashionable by the ton, but it was an expense that the Somersets could willingly indulge in. His smile was gentle as he turned on heel to glance at his sister, shaking his head ruefully and with some mirth. “Oh, joyous occasion. How I cannot wait to visit another seamstress on your behalf,” he commented sardonically. “I pity you, I do. It must be difficult to lead such a busy, and altogether most exerting, life. Now, tell me, how does our youngest sister fare at court? Is she brilliant?”

[clarrences]

catherinesomerset:

“Please don’t give me that look, dear brother.” Catherine ran a hand along the edge of the table, leisurely walking to sit across her brother. It was past noon, having been afforded the option to lay in bed to her hearts delight, Finally, after years of rising early for lesson after lesson, she was free to do as she wished. She grazed the breakfast table, looking for something to sooth her appetite, settling on a piece of bread with a foreign sort of jam.  “I did. It’s a shame you did not attend. My feet hurt so terribly after the seventh dance, but I just couldn’t deny the gentlemen who asked so sweetly.”

         “What look? There is no look,” John spoke evenly, though his face was colored with disapproval and painted with a thin veil of brotherly protection. He poured his sister a glass, nodding toward an attending manservant to supply her with a plate as he leaned back into his chair. Her recount of the previous evening’s festivities filled him with dread that he narrowly concealed in his voice, “I hope you did not engage with too many untitled gentlemen. It would not do to foist the wrong impression in moneyed society.” His mouth pressed into a thin line of consideration. “And Prudence, I suspect she enjoyed herself as well?” 

[clarrences]

dcvcrcaux:

“French, yes.” Her tone is clipped and just shy of cold. Too often she had gone unnoticed in the eyes of others until the very moment her nationality is revealed. Then men would romanticize–and at time fetishize–a part of her she scarcely new. Some would think her wanton, others a devious woman and all for the Seine in her veins in place of the Thames. Thus, she did not deign to thank him for the compliment.

“You mistake a moment’s curiosity for malicious intent, Your Grace. Surely, you meant no offense.” Perhaps it was bold of her to chastise a man so far above her station but his teasing had left her with little warmth and even less patience. The notion of hosting him was not particularly pleasant to her and yet her curiosity persisted. “If you so insist. Shall we retire to the parlor, if only to assure Lord Olbreuse that we have not been nosing about his offices upon his return.”

           Somerset’s brows made a swift move for his hairline as the woman spoke, her voice as cold as his was smooth. “Surely not,” he clipped in return and allowed his gaze to stray to the window, glancing at the impressive demesne beyond, whilst nodding along to Henriette’s suggestion as he resigned to what would inevitably be a late return on Lord Olbreuse’s part. The subject of discussion was most critical, and John could not rely on a rain check to impart the news the king’s privy council had left him to mull over. It was far too important to delay, and might incite unwanted speculation were it not handled with delicacy and promptness. 

A short breath of air seethed silently between his teeth as he gestured toward the door leading to the hallway from whence he had entered – “please, lead the way, mademoiselle.” John spoke with the presence of an affable, yet entirely construed, grin often worn in the company of society. He held his arm out as Henriette passed, and soon followed in the wake of her multitudinous petticoats. Eyes briefly descending, and then wandering back upward without being spied. “I presumed you have not served her grace for long? I am certain I would have remembered such an exquisite woman among Lady Olbreuse’s generally lackluster party.” 

[nathanwuornos]

jj being too tall for the servant’s hallway