John and Nicholas had forged a fast friendship, even before they had become brothers by marriage. Nicholas had been one of the few to treat him with a measure of respect, something which he had always appreciated. After his nuptials, he had also provided John with comfort and security in terms of coming to be with Amelia, the man's presence an easy excuse for his trips, should anyone take note of them.
Taking a bite of his bread, John pulled a face, thinking for a moment. "That depends on who you ask. He was gone, yes, but he had his sister to occupy his place. It would seem to me that she enjoyed it, perhaps too well." There were few people in the world that John would ever voice such thoughts to, entirely aware of the treasonous bent that could be read into his words. "I am certain that Philippa would have benefited greatly from spending her time in Dover with you. Events here caused her much anxiety." For a moment he paused. "I am not certain that she and I are on speaking terms, just now. We had quite the confrontation, regarding the rumours in Florence."
He nodded, relieved at the notion. "Some sport would be a pleasant distraction. A ride, at least. Though I think the cold is already nipping at our heels. And you can more freely tell me how you found events in Dover. Do you think the Spanish friends or foes?"
"The Princess makes no secret of her belief England would be well ruled by a lady - would she be more or less, sympathetic to our cause?" A seraph, a child of pleasure and virginal beauty --- Elizabeth's ice of pride, was reflected well in the Grey sisters; awarding them the comfort of friendship, or the derision born of twin flames. "Anxieties? She wrote to me of no unpleasantness -- save for soothing my simpering desires and needy gestures." Nicholas, born a man and a simp, had little methods of disguising his true nature; John, whose head seemed fated for the block, had forsaken comfort for love, and the heat of a Grey sister's bed. He was no source of judgement. "Ah....Pippa - what insults did she hurl at your door? I do believe she likes you, dearly; but you, in all your kindness, make yourself a glorious target for her ire."
Nicholas could extend no ire towards John's nature, in the wake of numerous heart aches, both natural and man-made. But he found himself once more a victim of circumstance; being unable to undo the past, yet having no window to move forward. "We shall keep the cold at bay, through sport; and whisper likes our wives, without unfriendly ears. To tell you the truth? I admire and enjoy the Spanish -- I do not know however, if allying ourselves with them would be beneficial, or further cast us as enemies of the crown."














