@finnegansson continued from here
“Aye, well…if there’s but one certainty, it’s that ye can count on me not to keep me curiosities to meself…”
Of course, Declan is not just a man of his word, but of actions, too - and here he is, with his typical wide-eyed intrigue, fiddling with one of the delicate-looking silk ribbons hanging from the beautifully powdered peruke he’s examining - holding it up with his free hand, as if it is some kind of unique and precious artefact.
Well, that it is… Lord knows, the sheer expense of this attire - this whole way of life, mixing with all these lawdy-daw gentlemen types - it still strikes him, even now. There’s a part of Declan that will never get used to the fanciful, extortionate nature of it all. Yet, his charms and open-hearted curiosity helped him to fit right in from the first day he stepped foot inside this establishment, back when he was nothing but a wounded veteran, hoping to find - and express his undying gratitude towards - the dragoon Captain who saved his life…in more ways than one.
“…d’ye reckon it’d suit me, Fran?” The Lieutenant muses softly, head tilted to one side, still deeply entranced in his examination of the wig: “All these, y’know…ribbons an’ the like.”
“Declan, it's just a peruke!" From across the room, Fran motions carelessly at his wigs perched upon their porte perruques, still half-dressed himself, in an embroidered cap, before he sets off on his daily errands and social calls.
"Of course it does, ribbons and all. But..." He pauses, voice going thoughtful, as he eyes his friend and then the peruke, "It's less a question if it suits you. It’s that one must prepare himself for the sort of company he will associate with.” He adjusts his regimental coat and walks over, the spring in his step graceful, and practiced.
Leaning over, he peers to the peruke, then up at Declan with a pedantic, theatrical gaze. “You will likely attract more colonials with wealth. Powerful families of the city, so many merchants. Some of those are always on the prowl for a wealthy gentleman...and officers, eh wot?" Francis shrugs, standing back upright.
"You might be bored, once you see many only want to talk business or marry off one of their daughters to you.” He nudges his friend gently in the side, then picks out the well-powdered wig, replacing his cap with it. “As I often am." He gives a languishing sigh.
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