(Oscar Salem,) Goodness, [ DOMINIC O'CONNOR] has arrived! [ HE] is [ 35] , of the [ IRELAND] [O'CONNORS], and a [ MARQUESS] . They are [ RETURNED ] to England and the season and their family holds the [THE MARQUESS OF DOWNSHIRE ]. This author has heard they are [ ADVENTUROUS] but also [ ARROGANT ]. Accompanied by [ THEIR FAMILY ] , there is much talk of their arrival and accepting calls but be warned: I have heard they [STUBBORN ]! (Lorna, ooc age, ooc pronouns, 31, GMT)
WANTED CONNECTIONS || FACE || TASKS
Basics -
NAME: Dominic O’Connor, Marquess of Downshire
FAMILY: O’Connor family
ROLE IN SOCIETY:
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Date of Birth: August 18th 1779
Languages: English, French, Spanish, Irish
Appearance-
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Tattoos/Scars: A small scar on his torso from when he was a teenager, a medium scar on his forearm
Positive Trait: Ambitious, Adventurous, Diplomatic
Negative Trait: Scheming, Manipulative, Stubborn
About-
Since he was born, Dominic O’Connor knew he’d be the lord of his house. As a child, he was raised as the future head by his mother and maternal grandfather, but he didn’t understand the full weight of it. In his youth, before Eton, Dominic spent all of his time in Ireland at his grandfather’s insistence. If he were to be the Marquess, they wanted their people to familiarise themselves with the future lord, even when he was just a boy. When his brothers came, Dominic was thrilled, but that was cut short. As they grew up, Dominic watched as his younger brothers were allowed to misbehave without consequence, while he was held to a higher standard. Any mistake, he was reminded that everything he did was reflected upon two powerful legacies, the O'Connors and the Kleypas family. Dominic loves his brothers, but he often feels separate from them. He’d been groomed his entire life for leadership, and Dominic learned that affection and duty were never separate in the eyes of both sides of his family.
At eighteen, the ninth Marquess of Downshire passed away, and Dominic was made into the tenth Marquess of Downshire. Grief had sharpened Dominic as he made the transition from heir to lord. Society watched when he spent his first social season as a marquess, with everyone pushing their sons and daughters his way. Despite his title, Dominic’s unreachable high standards were enough to turn most away from him and focus on his younger brothers. Dominic quickly learnt that his title wasn’t what would gain him respect; he had to do that himself. He had to control every aspect of his life to stop himself from spiralling under the weight of both legacies. Those who had endured him in his first few years as a marquess commented on how the young marquess sacrificed his warmth for authority.
When his mother, Lady Edith, passed away, the family retreated to their estates in Ireland. Over the years, the Kleypas Press had dwindled in influence, but they all knew it was because of the rise of Lady Whistledown. In want of a partner that meets his standards, Dominic is back in London. Now, he wants a partner in life to continue the legacy; he also wants to regain his family influence once more.
Brook’s Club was alive with gentlemen discussing politics and the latest scandals, most of which was the state of the royal family and how their finances would be affected, but Nalan was more thankful that his family business was separate from such things. If taxes were raised, it would be a hindrance but the business would survive it, especially if they reduced business to the very modiste mentioned in Lady Whistledown. Nalan wanted his alone time, to have a comfy chair, Lady Whistledown and a glass of the finest claret, it would have been a dream had Nalan not read that JunHo Lytton was now a lord, an American of all people and one such as the Lytton’s did not deserve what Nalan desired!
Re-reading it not once or twice, but three times, did Nalan no favours, it was as if Nalan was trying to understand the absurdity and yet Nalan remained both angry and confused at this news, knowing how insufferable they would all be, and there would be no blame. If Nalan were to get his own title, the whole of London would hear him screaming it from the rooftops.
“A viscount and yet the man is as capable as a fish out of water, but I suppose money would get what most desired!”
There was nothing but angry mumbling from Nalan, something only made worse when another passing by had clipped the edge of Nalan’s table, tipping his glass and watching as the claret cascaded across Nalan’s copy of Lady Whistledown and all Nalan could do is watch, watch at how even the claret avoided spoiling JunHo’s name.
“I assume your apologies will be forthcoming very soon, but first you can explain why you are in such a rush that you have ruined a perfectly good glass!”
Dominic never knew what to make of gentlemen's clubs. He didn’t see the point of a sanctuary when his family had three large houses in England and a main castle in Ireland. This was all performative. A club where the main goal was to be seen and to drink. Intelligent conversations weren’t had here, but Dominic knew better than to share his thoughts. He’d been considering leaving Downshire House in Mayfair and retreating to Easthampton Park, but Dominic didn’t like the commute. It would be a wasted three hours instead of a fifteen-minute carriage ride. He’d just have to suffer through his brother’s silent treatments and his mother’s disdain. As with most of these clubs, disturbances were common. Dominic’s head snapped up into the direction of this commotion. A man was sitting, huffing at the words written, and then wine split. Dominic got up and excused the poor servant who’d knocked the glass. “You can always order another glass,” Dominic said, gesturing for two glasses to be brought to the table. “I think it was the lad’s first day; best not make a big deal about it or he’ll end up quitting.” Dominic said, offering Nalan a polite but cautious smile.
WHISPERS AND ACCOUNTS OF THE PARTY FIRST HELD AS THE NEW MEMBER OF HOUSE OF LORDS HAD MET MOST WELL. Life was starting to feel secure with new relationships and alliances formed to help guarantee any security should any information from the past come to light. Almost everything was at hand.
The early house of the morn following the event was met with an early delivery of Lady Whistledown which would normally have been discarded but this time it Piet placed in upon the desk in the drawing room to read later before time was taken for a moment of peace in the garden. Only then did eyes lay upon the shadow of a person appearing to be encumbered with lingering merriment from the previous night. “The door that I assume you are looking for is through the house and not here. Come, I shall walk you back to your home to ensure you make it safely back.”
Dominic didn’t want to return to Barnett’s house. He’d been up all night, looking for Frederic following Katherine’s exposé. If Frederic were to elope with Mary, Dominic knew he would have to impose punishment both as Frederic’s brother and as his marquis. It would ruin the family, and they were all still just hanging on by a thread. Dominic knew he was too strict with his brothers at times. His expectations were too high, but he wanted the best for them, even if they couldn’t see it. They just didn’t understand the pressure he faced. Dominic tried sneaking out when Frederic couldn’t be found, but he was caught. “Thank you, but I was looking for my brother,” Dominic explained, clearing his throat. “I heard a rumour that he could be with Mary.” Dominic let the words linger for a second or two. That alone would’ve caused a scandal, but that could push Frederic into a commitment Dominic didn’t want for him. Had Frederic simply taken Mary as a mistress, he could have resolved all of this mess, but that was out of the question. It was still up to Dominic to clean up these messes.
The engagement between Dominic and Leonora had been announced. The morning of the announcement, Dominic informed his mother, but she wasn’t exactly pleased. Instead of offering her son congratulations, she offered him criticism. Leonora wasn’t the Murray she wanted for Dominic, but Dominic explained his reasoning. Leonora had experience in a royal court, managing a title and estates. France was different to Ireland, but Dominic had every faith that she would make the perfect marchioness. A title his mother never received, and Dominic always assumed that was the reason for her resentment. His birth meant he was Daniella’s heir, not her. He wouldn’t apologise for that. Dominic was doing what he was born for, what she had him do.
Dominic already knew today was not the day to remain at home. The lord wasn't sitting; he had no morning appointments to attend to. His brothers couldn’t be found or didn’t want to be. For the first time in a while, Dominic had time. He decided to stop by the hosier's with the sole purpose of looking for an engagement gift, something he could give his future wife without knowing too much about her. It was the way things worked in society. Inside, the hosier was cool and quiet. There was a faint smell of lavender that filled the shop as Dominic paused before the glass counter. Gloves were displayed beneath it, all made with the finest silks and embroidery. One pair caught his eyes. They were ivory lace day gloves with seed pearls sewn in. Behind him, the bell rang. “Maybe you could help this lord decide on a pair." The shop keeper said to whoever was standing behind him. Dominic stepped aside, his eyes not leaving the pair he’d focused on. “What do you think?” He asked whoever came in, “Are these a suitable gift for a future wife?”
the aftermath of the posting is a heavier burden upon none other than LASARU BESSETTE, who does his best to continue the appointments for this day, kept at or outside LA MESURE. // OPEN STARTER, accepting replies.
some continue to arrive. a polite smile at his most recent patron as she exits, then exchanges the look of resolve and thinned lips with her partner, promising perhaps not a return whatsoever for the next tailoring. the blank expression on las's face beseeches no reaction, although within, he boils. is there any truth to the rumours spilled in the paper? yes, and how unfortunate — because it was not the whole of the story, and the reasons lacked selfishness, and yet some amount has compromised trust which cannot be gotten back. spectacles perched upon his nose, a quiet settles over this corner of the street, and lasaru turns his attentions upon the floral arrangements outside the shop. one thing must remain beautiful, and violets and daffodils were still springing into season. he thinks perhaps lilies should be next, and he dares not glance up, for fear of his emotions overtaking his reason. “ if you've come for clothes, i'll be right with you. ” a pause. his fingertips idle, twirling a violet by the crown. “ if you've come for anything else, you must leave disappointed. ” and none would be insofar as disappointed as he.
Dominic hadn’t ever placed much stock in Lady Whistledown. It’s easy to believe someone when they’re hiding, but his own paper made sure that every writer signed their name to their work. If they posted gossip, they’d research. Dominic set the rules that no one would hide behind anonymity. Lady Whistledown was a coward, and no one was suffering more than Lasaru. Dominic expected the shop to be filled, but it was practically empty. A la mesure with such intricate work as Lasaru’s was hard to find, but Lady Whistledown had cast him out with the stroke of her quill. “Does a consultation count?” Dominic called out, taking off his gloves as he entered further into the shop. He’d ordered suits for his brothers, but there was something else he needed. Dominic’s engagement was freshly announced, and he wasn’t the type of person to stand idly by.
Waiting for him, Dominic quietly strolled about the store. He looked at all the work on display and wondered which was actually Lasaru’s. The designs might not have been his, but there was skill in the making of them. He didn’t care if the designs were someone else's as long as the work was quality. “I’ll be needing a wedding suit soon,” he said when he faced the measurer. “And I’d like to see your own designs.” He didn’t care for this blip in the man’s reputation yet. There were far worse people who’d thrived in London, with greater crimes than artistic ones. If Lasaru did steal someone else’s work, at least he had the skill to pull it off.
Frederic was surprised when he was practically pushed onto Vivienne by Dominic, even the way Edgar was looking at him made him give him a double take.
He looked at Dominic and then Edgar. He wasn't dumb and it didn't take long before he realized that *both* of them planned this. He always wanted his brothers to get along- it rarely happened, but he didn’t enjoy that they were getting along solely because of him.
He looked at her. "The grown was the last thing on my mind." He blurted out because it was. He was more focused on how her voice quivered- how she expressed so many emotions in her voice. How could one focus on superficial observations ? He wasn't the type of man. He looked at her when she spoke lowly. "I liked the ending. when you express your love. it sounded raw like you really were your character," he tells her easily.
He kept speaking with her about her play, and really, he was far more interested in her character and her act- and that really just helped Vivienne to become more interested in Frederic, who doesn't love a man who is interested in her work?
He froze when he realized what was happening when she asked to go into her room. Oh he did *not* want to go, but when he glanced at his brothers who don't bat an eye. He does follow, but he doesn't try anything with Vivienne- it just so happened that bringing up books or plays distracts anyone if it's the right one. It was rather lovely speaking to her alone in her room since he didn’t have his brother's watchful eyes. He had a sweet twinkle in his gaze as he spoke of how he wanted to write books- he wasn’t sure if he could write plays, but seeing one. It’s almost inspiring.
His brother was looking for a different type of inspiration….
Dominic always wanted to enjoy the arts the way his brothers did, but he never had time to. He’d always attended plays and gallery openings, but that was because it’s what was expected of him. He’d donated to some artistic causes and attended the fundraisers, but that was it. Edgar and Frederic had artistic souls, and part of him was a little envious about it. They could pour their hearts out in writings or paintings, letting the world know what their hearts and minds desired. Dominic just had to work. It took everything Dominic had to stifle a laugh at Frederic’s gown comment, but a chuckle escaped him. “Frederic has a romantic heart; he was clearly moved by your performance.” Dominic smiled, shifting the conversation back to Frederic’s focus. He bit his tongue, wanting to say how love was just that. An act, a flurry of emotions all fighting to take the stage, but now wasn’t the time. Edgar was right. Vivenne was a perfect choice to distract Frederic, if only the youngest brother would allow it.
He didn’t flinch when Edgar pulled free of his light grasp. He’d offended Edgar at the ball, but even now, Edgar couldn’t understand the concern. He’d given Dominic nothing but worry over the years; that didn’t just go away overnight simply because Edgar claimed he was a changed man. “She is,” Dominic said, his eyebrows drawn together as his forehead furrowed. “She received the flowers I’d sent and scolded me for it. Her words were illuminating.” She’d made it clear just how Edgar hated him, even before their confrontation. Both were still strangers, and still that was what Genevive took away from their meetings. “It’s not scandalous if she has a chaperone.” Dominic stated it more like a warning, but he didn’t think his brother would take anything he’d say seriously.
Dominic was almost surprised at Vivienne's offer and how flawlessly executed it was. “That’s a wonderful suggestion, Vivenne, but Edgar and I have some matters to discuss.” Dominic was an expert at making excuses to leave. He’d practised it enough during the House of Lords, even in some social situations. The goal was for Frederic to be Vivenne’s focus, not the other two brothers. "I'm sure Frederic would enjoy writing something, specifically for you, something that embodies love and your talents on the stage, of course." An actress wasn’t an ideal companion, but Vivenne was clearly skilled. She may just be what Frederic needed.
There was no time like the present for Fredertic to get over his broken heart but also for the brothers to mend things. Dominic didn’t wait for Frederic to decline his suggestion. Instead, he stepped back to join Edgar on the seats. “I believe you can succeed when you put your mind to it,” Dominic said quietly. “I worry that this is fast and sudden. Do you remember a few years ago, there were sneaker waves at Helen’s Bay Beach? A wave suddenly surged far up, without warning, and caught people off guard and swept them away. I don’t want you swept away by sudden change, Edgar.” Dominic didn’t want to be cruel, but he didn’t know how many times he could rescue his brother.
The sensation of his gloves against her fingers was strange, but she welcomed it easily. It was foreign, being this close with someone. And especially someone of his station. But it was easy to forget that when he looked at her like she was the only person in the world. Ceara's smile crept up again seeing him try to keep himself lively despite the exhaustion. She wouldn't tell him so, but the effort was....adorable. "If you are accusing me of starving you, you are sorely mistaken, sir."
The tavern was emptier than she expected, giving her the freedom to admire the gold trimmings and the flicker of the candle between them. The dim lighting offered a respite from the harsh weather and passionate cries of the fellow working class. She'd removed her coat and unraveled her hair from its low bun to allow it to dry properly. She was comfortable, almost feeling pretty despite the day. Her eyes finally fell to him when he spoke, tilting her head in obvious curiosity. But then she recalled his thoughts on traveling and it made much more sense. Poor thing was likely to get seasick. But then she laughed and assured him, "No, no. That's alright. I like fowl. I will convince the server to bring more bread, though. It smells divine." She would call it a compromise or a sort of reassurance to his nerves.
His question made Ceara sit straight, her hair falling to the side as she considered her answer with a head tilt. "My parents are teachers and when my sister and me were smaller, they taught us everything. Sciences, langauges, histories. Anything they could until we started asking, pleading even. And...I saw how happy it made them to do it, so I wanted to do it myself," she explained, figeting her fingers. "And a few years ago, my Ma asked me to be her teacher's aide so I could have some experience in the classroom."
She laughed nervously then. "That was a bit much for one question," she said sheepishly. "Let me ask you one. What is it like now, with your new lordship? People here admire you, but it doesn't seem like a real easy change."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, watching the candlelight against Ceara’s face. The warmth of the inn was a happy change from the rain and the breeze, but that wasn’t his focus. Dominic didn’t say a single word as he watched Ceara transform. When her hair was loosened from its bun, slipping over her shoulders, it all caught his attention for a moment longer than it should have. It was almost unfair how beautiful she was or how effortless it appeared. He didn’t feel like a marquess, just a tired young man in dire need of food. A laugh escaped him, following her playful accusation. “You were the one who caught my attention at the rally,” he said with the corner of his mouth lifting to a boyish smile. “So it fits that you’re the reason for my starvation.” Dominic could feel the ache of tiredness settling in, but all that was fading away like the noise around them.
While she spoke about her parents, Dominic feasted on the bread, but he listened more intently than he’d realised. Most of the women he’d spoken to recently only spoke about gowns and dances. The other conversations he’d had since his investiture revolved around estates and who he should ally with in the House of Lords. This was a welcomed change. Maybe it was the way she spoke with such certainty, but he couldn’t look away. Dominic’s thumb absently scratched the stem of his glass as he listened, even watching the way her nerves manifested with her fidgeting fingers. He couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t help but smile at that gesture. “It’s not too much,” he said, his voice soft as he reached out to hold her hand. It was supposed to soothe her worries, but he did it without even thinking about it. “I think it’s admirable. Choosing to do something that’ll shape others into making a kinder world, all because you’ve witnessed your parents doing it. It’s a good thing to be proud of.”
Dominic withdrew his hand at Ceara’s question, leaning back in his chair. He let out a laugh before he could even answer. “Honestly, it’s strange,” he says, his fingers turning his signet ring slowly. “The household staff look at me now when questions are asked. My peers in the House of Lords are thirty years my senior, but I’m still expected to be something bigger than myself.” Every decision Dominic would make in the House of Lords or the estate management would be scrutinised. Every mistake belonged to him and possibly the generations after him. It was a legacy; he’d always known that. “But my grandfather prepared me well.” Dominic had been preparing for this since he was seven. No one expected him to take the lordship so young, but he didn’t have a choice.
Junho is sitting on one of the many benches in Hyde Park. His head was leaning against the back of the bench. He just looked up at the bright blue sky above him. He keeps replaying the image of being named lord....He had no idea what it meant to be a lord in the first place....There were a lot of thoughts- He had thought if he became a lord, he'd have a partner and their family at his side to help him...yet he's all alone in this. His family has never been titled!
Who does he even ask for help?
Tobias Throne? He doesn't want to be lord, but maybe a little helpful...maybe he'd distract him more than being helpful…Dominic O'Connor, but he's a little nervous to ask. He felt like he was far more interested in matching him than anything else about him…
There was that pretty blonde who had offered to help him. He was a member of Parliament, wasn't he? He doesn’t actually know his name...which felt like a problem...
He groans out loud as he throws his arms over his closed eyes. He had brought a book to read, but he didn't even feel like reading-
He doesn't even notice another sitting next to him. Isn't it strange? He’s always aware of people around him. Always eager to be social. Junho is all smiles and relaxed shoulders. Who would be so eager to talk to another- or he'd have his nose to the book? He finally noticed the other person, he looked over, and he looked surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you.”
Whenever there was a new lord, it meant the House of Lords would be a mess for a couple of days. A new member meant things would need explaining. How laws were shaped and how they could all hold the government to account, but examining the bills was the one that took the longest time. Dominic knew that the new viscount would have his work cut out for him. He hadn’t long left the House of Lords when he’d seen JunHo, sitting alone when he should’ve been in the Houses of Parliament. He didn’t expect much from an American, but Dominic and the other lords expected attendance.
Dominic didn’t introduce himself. He just sat down, waiting for Junho to collect himself. Having a title was all well and good, but it came with more work than most could’ve imagined. It was something that Dominic spent years preparing for. “Don’t worry, I haven’t been here long,” he said, offering Junho a polite smile. They were technically colleagues now. A lifetime of duty was now on Junho’s shoulders, and Dominic didn’t want the pressure to break him. “You missed a lively debate. " Dominic let out a sigh, looking out at people walking through Hyde Park. “The Quartering of Soldiers Act was repealed so some soldiers could be angry with us for a few weeks.” The act was supposed to give a set rate. Something that allowed the soldiers to secure accommodation easier during their service. The House of Lords repelled the motion this morning. “We’ve got another debate in the morning, but I’ve forgotten what for.” He didn’t, but Dominic didn’t want the man to drown before he learnt to swim.
Katherine Thorne | Open Starter | Location: St. James Park
Katherine was angry. She used to love reading Lady Whistledown's gossip column, joyfully snatching up the newest edition to see what all the anonymous writer had to say. Never before was Katherine actually talked about- in fact she used to be excited by the idea. But now that it happened? Well... Kitty was less than thrilled.
Her father was less than pleased with what was said about her and the valet of the house, and Kitty found that she had to defend Bertie against the allegations. See, she could be a good person! She even accepted a punishment of no spending money for a whole week, and the promise to make appearances while being the kind, good girl that he "knew she was." That made her want to roll her eyes, a lingering pit in her stomach as she remembered all the trouble she caused at the ball. Whatever.
She quietly roamed around the paths, it was a warm and sunny day. Hopefully it would last, she knew how fickle London weather was. She sighed with a hint of melodrama and sat down on a bench, already feeling bored. Her eyes wandered over to a beautiful flower arrangement and immediately noted the type they were. Botany wasn't nearly as interesting as astronomy, but it was still nice. Kitty moved closer to the plants and reached out to touch the petals, feeling the softness underneath her fingertips until a shadow emerged in front of her. She squinted her eyes and looked up, ready to be annoyed that they ruined the moment. "Hello?" She raised an eyebrow as she looked up at the person now. Remembering her goal for the day, she quietly sighed and forced a smile upon her lips. "These flowers are beautiful, are they not? Almost as lovely as you look today."
A stroll in a park was enough to solve Dominic’s mood. All morning, he’d avoided his brothers. He didn’t want to suffer through another silent treatment or explanations of his worries. Edgar and Frederic didn’t want to hear it, and Dominic didn’t want to waste his breath. Then there was his mother. Lady Daniella heard through the grapevine about Dominic’s engagement. She was happy he’d be married, but she couldn’t help but express her disappointment. Leonora wasn’t titled and was a widow. She wasn’t her choice, but Dominic argued that she was from a respectable, titled family. Those were her previous requirements. He didn’t expect to be intruding on someone, let alone on Katherine. “They are," Dominic said with a polite smile, folding his hands behind his back, “and thank you for the compliments.” Dominic didn’t completely trust her words. She’d been mentioned so much in Lady Whistledown, mostly because she was involved in some sort of altercation.
“I was hoping to run into you,” he said, looking around. Dominic didn’t want his brothers to see or hear him. Katherine had told Dominic about Frederic eloping to Gretna Green, but there wasn’t any evidence. There wasn’t any reason for her lies, so Dominic was torn. He wanted to believe his brother wouldn’t do something so stupid, but he couldn’t predict anything. “You told me about Frederic’s plans to elope. How did you come to that conclusion?” Dominic didn’t want to believe her, but there was a part of him that did. He’d asked the servants to remove all of the luggage, as if that would stop his brother. If those were Frederic’s plans, Dominic knew nothing would stop him. He was determined when he found a cause.
Dominic was surprised at how fast his engagement was announced. The banns were read, with a date to be determined. Dominic was set to marry Leonora, Lord Marlborough’s niece. She was what Dominic needed. Someone from a notable family, but not in line for any inheritance. She’d survived the French nobility, so Dominic knew she’d survive his mother and her demands. The Duke organised the match and approached Dominic with the idea, and before too long, it was settled. His morning had been spent dealing with the estates and his brother’s messes, but Dominic arranged for some time with his new betrothed. Nothing grand, just a walk in Hyde Park, something that resembled home. Though nothing could compare to the gardens at Hillsborough Castle, this was an adequate replacement for now.
There was a lot out in Hyde Park this afternoon. The weather remained pleasant, and so all of Mayfair came out. Dominic saw Leonora standing by the water's edge; he knew most people would probably be talking. The marquis finally found a wife, but she was a widowed baroness. Dominic could feel everyone watching while he approached Leonora. “Ms Mercier," he said, his voice smooth as he tilted his head. “I hope you’ll join me on a walk this afternoon?” He offered her arm, and then they began their stroll along the riverbank. The breeze was welcomed, a distraction from the stares. “I hope you’re well and that you’ve not been too overwhelmed by offers of congratulations.” Part of Dominic worried that most would’ve cautioned her against the match. He was known to be unrelenting in his expectations, but he wasn’t the monster his brothers thought he was.
Who: Dominic O'Connor (@lorddominic), Frederic O'Connor (@youngoconner) & Edgar O'Connor
Where: The Heyes Theatre, London
When: June, 1814
The final curtain descended to thunderous applause, though Edgar remained seated with his arms folded. Ordinarily, he would have been among the first to stand. He knew enough actors to understand that applause was less a courtesy than nourishment. Tonight, however, Frederic sat on one side of him and Dominic on the other. It was, Edgar had decided during the second act, the worst seating arrangement devised since Judas had been invited to supper. He had purchased the tickets before the Gemstone Ball, when an evening with both brothers had seemed somewhat nice, rather than unbearable. Before Dominic made his opinions of Edgar be known, at the ball. Since then, Edgar had ignored him with admirable dedication. Avoiding a man as tall and persistently present as Dominic required skill, but Edgar had looked through him at breakfast, walked around him in corridors, and avoided enough family dinners to resemble a fugitive in his own home.
As the audience began filing out, Edgar rose and turned pointedly toward Frederic. "Come along, Freddie." He did not look at Dominic. If Dominic followed, that was his own decision. The plan, however, remained sound, even if the company had soured since its conception. Frederic had spent far too long looking as though someone had buried his heart beneath Barnett House and forgotten to mark the grave. Mary occupied his every thought not filled by work or sleep. Therefore, Edgar had arranged a distraction, which Dominic had surprisingly approved of. Vivienne was beautiful, clever, amusing, and entirely unburdened by convention. More importantly, she had once spotted Frederic across a crowded square and informed Edgar that she would be quite willing to meet him. Edgar had known her for years through late nights at the theatre and one unfortunate incident involving a stolen costume, two bottles of champagne, and a papier-mâché swan discovered in a duke's carriage. She was precisely the sort of woman who might remind Frederic that desire need not end in heartbreak, or begin with a proposal.
Edgar led them backstage, through creaking corridors smelling of powder, candlewax, sweat, and ambition. Near the dressing rooms, Vivienne appeared in the silver gown from the final act, her dark hair already escaping its pins. Her gaze found Edgar first, then settled upon Frederic with immediate interest. Apparently, Edgar had not entirely lost his gift for excellent ideas. He stepped aside, a mischievous smile finally breaking through his foul mood. "Vivienne," he said, presenting Frederic like a particularly valuable acquisition. "Allow me to introduce my brothers. This is Frederic," Edgar said, motioning to his little brother, with a warm smile until his gaze quickly moved to Dominic. That was followed by an eye-roll, and his voice turning into a mumble. "And this is Dominic," He said, not really caring. Vivienne held her hand out, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. "Enchanted to meet you both."
Frederic loves the theater, and he was in a good mood when Edgar offered him the ticket. The actress- Vivienne? He thinks he heard her name from Edgar. She was wonderful, and he really wanted to talk to her just because he thought her performance was perfect. He does love a good act. It was even better, he wasn't sitting right next to Dominic. He still wasn't speaking to him. He really didn't want to talk to him, actually.
He makes a surprised noise as Edgar had tugged him along towards the back after the show finished." My dear brother, what are we-" he paused as he met the gaze of the actress who had dazzled the stage. He frowns, but it was more because of why they were here, and why Edgar introduced them. He wasn't informed that Edgar had known the girl.
out of habit, really, he had stepped slightly back, almost behind Dominic- he didn't enjoy how he was introduced at all by Edgar. He gives him a slight glare. He never liked being the center of attention like this. He then looked at her hand, and he didn't take it. " It's nice to meet you," He tells her. "You did a lovely job. " He said because he knows how to behave, and he really did enjoy her performances. "You read your character well," He added. She clearly seemed very interested in him- Frederic is not blind to see it- He sees the look on his brother's face, and he's starting to wonder if Edgar had any part, and then he looked at Dominic. Surely Dominic and Edgar did not plan whatever this is together.
Dominic knew he’d ruined things between his brothers. He questioned Edgar’s sudden change, worried that it would leave just as fast as it came about. Then there was Frederic. Katherine had informed him that Frederic planned to elope with Mary. There’d be consequences to that. If they hated Dominic now, if Frederic did run away, they’d all despise Dominic for what he’d have to do. He’d have no choice in the matter. He didn’t want to dwell on any of that. Tonight was supposed to be about a distraction, and they’d all have that. The evening was meant to provide a distraction from Edgar’s silent treatment and Frederic’s lovesick languishing. Following their introductions, Dominic greeted Vivienne with a smile. It was clear to him that she and Edgar had some history, and he had to stifle a laugh. Lady Whistledown mentioned his dalliance with a French princess and now Vivienne. If her name was anything to go by, Edgar had a clear type.
“Your performance was remarkable,” Dominic said, shaking her hand. He turned to Frederic as his words continued. “My youngest brother was enamoured with your performance as well, but he’s the writer in the family.” Dominic was practically pushing his youngest brother on the actress. It was the fastest way to get over whatever heartsick affliction he was nursing. Edgar had clearly spoken with Vivenne prior to this meeting. For once, Dominic was impressed with his attention to detail. It was impressive what Edgar could do when he wasn’t distracted.
Stepping back, Dominic wanted to give Frederic and Vivenne some room. As he stepped back, he pulled Edgar back with him. There was enough space for some privacy but also so the older brothers could listen, discreetly, of course. “I know you’re not speaking to me,” he says, only for Edgar’s ears. “But what I said was out of concern. You’re moving fast with la princesse française. I’ve heard she’s even been to our house, teaching you French.” Something Edgar hadn’t had any interest in before.
Time had slowed again. Instead of the rain acting as a respite for the fire in her skin, she could feel how icy it had become. The thunder roared, but it was nothing compared to deafening silence between them. Ceara reached out to try and grab it from him, but the recognition in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, eyes widening. Her hands were akin to sandbags, too heavy to lift but she knew they were there. "Please give it back to me," was all she could muster. How would she explain this? There was no appropriate way to admit she carried it around with her everywhere. Or that he was right in assuming she planned on giving it to him as a gift, along with something else.
"No, I...I had something else but..." Ceara didn't have the courage to say anything to him, her stomach twisting until it was painful. For once, she didn't want to hurt him. She had forgotten she wanted to remind him what this was all for, and now she had no choice but to say something. "If it was, what else would you have me do? You didn't want to discuss the school. You wanted me to be your whore for a bit longer before you even considered talking to me about it. So if a *note* is what is takes for this, then fine. I admit it. That would have been your gift."
Dominic deliberately moved when Ceara asked for the letter. His eyes scanned it over and over again. They were his words, something written in haste so many years ago. It was a day that Dominic had pushed to the back of his mind. The decision he’d made. Choosing duty and fortune over everything and not really hesitating. “I’ve wanted to discuss the school. " Dominic folded the letter, putting it inside his breast pocket. If the letter was his gift, he’d take it and burn it. “I’ve set out my conditions, but you’ve refused them.” Mary wouldn’t be profiting off him or his family. That was something Dominic wouldn’t negotiate on.
“I’ve never called you that,” he said with gritted teeth, wanting to shout but resisting it. “Did you think it would hurt me?” Dominic asks, not wanting to know. Dominic knew he was hated; he’d made his peace with that years ago, but this was different. This was personal. The school was supposed to be his apology, his absolution for the past. Dominic stood there, silent for a minute. The rain poured down, pelting him by the second. "Congratulations, Miss Dempsey,” Dominic said sarcastically and fixed his clothes. “Your intentions haven’t gone unnoticed. If I’m the man you’ve described, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me or my money.” Dominic had thought they could forget the past, even the present to an extent. A chance to just give in to the memories, but it was ruined. “I’ll withdraw the funds and you’ll have to get a new benefactor since I’m so repulsive.” Dominic didn’t say anything else. He just turned and walked away. The ballroom waited for him. Ladies his mother deemed appropriate for him, not this one. Ceara wanted to hurt him, to remind him of his choice. She’d done just that, but Dominic wasn’t one to let things like that lie.
Frederic frowns, and he knew that Dominic worried so much about things that he'd never understand. He's sure the burden was greater on his shoulders. " You don't have to worry," He mumbled as he rested his arms on his desk. He rested his chin on his folded arms, and he looked up at him. He still looked like a sad little thing. It's no wonder his brother thought of him as sensitive and fragile.
"Ah...right," He was mostly talking of the teachers- they always watched him closely. He had lied about making friends. He could talk, but making friends was another thing. He just wanted to write, and the other boys didn't understand it. " I should do something fun with them," He was lying through his teeth. He wouldn't. He'd lie and go out to hang out alone- It helped to make sure neither of his brothers worried about him.
He looked hurt. "You never let me learn it," he looked at him with a want to help. "Can't I come and join you?" He pleaded softly. He just didn't want to be here anymore. he wanted to be in London. He perked up at the next words, though. "Really? " He had asked before, but it was always waved off. He thought his brother thought he was too fragile to go. "Can I still go to London?" he wanted to see Mary at least one more time- he also just missed her. His heart ached, and the comfort she gave was more- He just wanted to hug her and feel like he was allowed to be vulnerable.
Seeing Frederic this way tonight, Dominic had to pause. Frederic looked so young, so fracturable, but he didn’t know if that was just his brother or the situation they were in. Their mother had passed away a year ago to the date; they all knew it wouldn’t be easy. Dominic didn’t expect it to be this hard. “I know, but I’m your brother. I’ll always worry about you.” It wasn’t out of obligation or duty; it was out of love. Ever since Frederic and Edgar came into his life, Dominic loved them completely. He didn’t care for blood or legacy when it came to them. They were family; that’s all there was to it.
Dominic’s time in Eton wasn’t remarkable, but he valued the friendships he’d made. Even now, the men he’d met there were in different stages of their lives. Dominic had been the marquess for years now while all the men he’d studied with were off on their tours or in the military. He only hoped that Frederic had something more substantial. “You could invite them here?” He suggests, a little coyly. “The house is large enough for them, and I wouldn’t get in your way.” Dominic wasn’t the only off-putting thing. The travel across would be arduous, but he’d make it worth it for Frederic’s time. Time away from school could do them all some good, and Dominic could see how Frederic was settling in.
Frederic didn’t need this pressure, not yet. He was meant for better things than this; Lady Daniella always said he had a writer’s soul. He didn’t need to be like Dominic, cooped up with ledges and laws. “Frederic, you’d hate it.” Dominic said with a sympathetic sigh. “It’s all numbers and managing the estates. Mother wouldn’t want that for you.” No, her boys needed a better life than a marquess’s. Edgar would be a great artist, Frederic a great writer, while Dominic would ensure the legacy. It’s what she’d always told him.
He knew why Frederic wanted to go to London. He was like a puppy in love, eager to follow Mary all over London if needed. Dominic wanted more than that for his brother. He wanted more than a life of debt, saddled to a family that was only good for lying. That family lied, and Dominic had to protect the legacy. “London isn’t feasible for you right now." He said, looking at the papers he’d hidden. They contained all of the lies, the announcement of the engagement ending all ready to be printed soon. Dominic knew he’d be hated, but he’d manage that. He could manage everything else. “But I’ve been planning your grand tour. You’ll start in Calais, then go to Paris and the Alps. You’ll end it in Italy, maybe Florence or Venice. What do you think? Dominic smiled, trying to get excited for his brother. A grand tour would be a great distraction after the announcement, of course.
Katherine nodded solemnly, gleeful in her head seeing the angry marquess. "Yes, I am afraid so. And, well, this is more of a personal matter, but he embarrassed me horribly. He berated my dress in front of everyone, quite loudly, calling it ugly. I could have cried right there!" Her voice hushed to match his, her eyes easily conjuring up fake tears. This would teach Frederic O'Connor not to mess with her. The marquess was strict, surely he would give his youngest brother a fitting punishment. Whatever it was, well it didn't concern Kitty. All she wanted was revenge. "I hope you will have him apologize. It rather ruined my night." A sniffle, for dramatic effect.
"They went to the garden, my Lord. And... Oh, I shouldn't say..." She bit her lip, pretending to be nervous about spreading sensitive information. "You may want to be quick. He told me he was planning on running off with Mary after the event. To go to Gretna Green and elope with her!" Her eyes widened with worry and her hands gripped her fan tightly. "I promise I am not merely gossiping. I worry for Miss Barnett. If anything were to happen to her because of this meet up..."
Dominic’s concern was clear. He listened as Katherine described her ordeal. Frederic berating someone like that wasn’t the brother he knew, but being so close to Mary would send him spiralling. He should’ve insisted that Frederic stay home. “I’m sorry on his behalf,” Dominic said with a slight bow of his head. He couldn’t understand why Frederic would’ve said something like that, but an apology was needed. Dominic’s head snapped towards the garden. He could feel the anger rising in his chest, but he tried his best to calm it. “Gretna Green?” Dominic asked, trying to calculate things in his head. How long would it take to get there? Would they stop off at their houses to pack? A million questions surged through his mind. “Thank you for telling me,” he said quickly, "but I need to leave. If they’re going to Gretna Green, then I need to stop them.” Dominic offered another quick apology before he left. He didn’t have time for this. Frederic marrying Mary against his wishes wouldn’t be good for any of them. Frederic would suffer the consequences, and Dominic would be the monster for distributing them.
Rosalind's gaze flickered toward him at the mention of the Barnetts, one brow lifting in restrained amusement. "One of his new sisters-in-law?" Her voice was soft but as low as his. "How ambitious of him. Though I should think if the new Earl has plans for me, he might have had the courtesy to inform me first." Her attention shifted briefly toward the masked figures before returning to Dominic, composed but amused. "Still, I suppose there are worse fates than being considered useful at a ball. London thrives on arranging people where it thinks they might fit. Usually with little concern for whether they wish to be placed there."
At his teasing question, the faintest smile touched her lips. "I have not run away," Rosalind agreed. "Though I would advise against interpreting that as unconditional approval." Her gaze held his as she let out a small chuckle. "But if you trust my judgement over theirs, then perhaps there is hope for you yet." At his final question, the brunette looked at him warmly, she was enjoying this agreement that they had formed. It felt a bit freeing. "Lacking?" she echoed. "No, Lord Dominic. I would not say lacking. But you do have a habit of making practical arrangements sound almost virtuous." She followed her statement with a knowing smile. "Fortunately, I find that far more tolerable than empty charm. Now, shall we fulfill the last part of this deal? I do believe we agreed on a dance."
Dominic didn’t truly know Peter’s intentions, but the man was a Barnet now. To Dominic, that meant he couldn’t be trusted. If he was going to be a friend to Rosalind, he didn’t want her falling into the same trap Frederic almost did. “He’s not voicing it, but I know how this family thinks.” Peter was also newly elevated. New to this world, it would make sense to secure his sisters to Rosalind. All Dominic could do was warn her, so she’d at least be there on her guard. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were on the top of everyone’s list.” If Frederic could’ve handled it, Dominic would’ve put him forward, but he didn’t. Dominic also valued this friendship; a match with his brother’s would probably ruin it.
“It’s too late; it’s how I’ve taken it, and I don’t usually change my mind.” Dominic laughed. A friendship like this one was needed. Something that didn’t depend on the matches of the season or expectations. Just friendship, and both of them could clearly use a friend or two. He held out his hand for her to take before leading her to the dance floor. He knew his mother would hear of it and she would’ve been thrilled. Well, she would until Dominic would tell her it was a friendship and nothing more. “I have a habit of making the best of situations,” he said as the music started. “I’m a practical man, grounded in reality.” He shrugged. His brothers were different. They lived in a dream world of true love and freedom from responsibility.
