where: almack's
when: Afternoon; 25, Jan 1801
for @ladywinsomes
“It’s almost as if anyone will be invited to partake in the Season now.” Celestia whispered, sitting particularly close to Margaret around the card table in Almack’s. “Did you see the new Whistledown? A soldier turned loon, that girl from France? You must be relieved, Lady Harcourt to be finished with it all.”
Margaret exchanged a pointed glance with Lady Kedley, and delt out cards to the small group in attendance. Celestia Sewlyn was always so taken with the gossip rag, her life had to be very dull indeed.
“The poor princess.” Lady Kedley mused, “The entire palace was in disarray no thanks to that publication. Her Grace has hardly even gotten a starting chance.”
“She seemed strong willed when I spoke with her.” Margaret murmured. She glanced around hoping to see one particular, familiar face among the hall.
Celestia peeked from over her cards, ‘But you know Mr. Dowding, don’t you? Imagine marrying a man who dalliances and begets-” She yelped suddenly from a kick under the table and a hard stare from Margaret. That was too close for comfort. Lady Sewlyn cleared her throat and laughed, letting the comment die there.
“Mr. Dowding will need more than fancy words for a match this season, I wager.” Lady Kedley murmured, placing an ace down on the table.
“Lady Mowbray!” Margaret called, raising a hand so Lydia could see her through the steady stream of people. “You made it.”