#tenderstarved

[baronwillliam]

July 11th, 1800 (Late at night) The oculus above Were’s Library

The odds that William managed to get himself invited back to a library after dark felt slim, yet it happened, just as the sage boat won the race, just as he won the garden hunt. Perhaps the stars liked to align themselves perfectly to give William the chance to view them from a balcony, as this was the second time in a year that he'd been granted such a view.

Except this time, unlike the party at the Hallivand's, he wasn't alone.

"Careful, Miss Lockhart," He murmured, hand reaching out to guide her, then snatching back the moment the fabric of her dress brushed against his fingertips. With the late out and damp air, there was every chance the floor could be slick and she might fall. It was a necessary precaution, that was all.

Inhaling deeply as he looked around, William's muscles felt looser than before, a pleasant feeling that seemed to echo in each step as his focus landed on a telescope. "Do you remember when I told you the story about the thread that guided the man from the maze?" William asked, risking a glance at Kate's face to see if he could make out her expression in the dark. "There's a constellation associated with the myth, a crown. Would you like to see if we can find it?" // @tenderstarved​

[alexandremortier]

July 19th, 1800 - midafternoon The Modiste

"Oh, do you need help?" Isabeau asked as she caught sight of the young woman, who appeared to be at least half a foot shorter than her. It wasn't unusual for Isabeau to meet women shorter than her, most usually were, but Isabeau could tell that she was unusually petite. "Alexandre? Come here a moment."

To the young woman, Isabeau gave a tiny smile. "My brother. I enjoy making him reach for this, it's the price he has to pay for being tall."

"Did you find the hat you were looking for?"

Alexandre was used to his sisters dragging him to various shops and didn't, in general, mind it, but the fact they were at the modiste was oddly agreeable to him as he'd recently discovered an invested interest in their supply of ribbon. While he hadn't picked anything yet, it wasn't that upsetting to abandon his search in favor of following Isabeau's voice, finding her looking at him expectantly.

"No hat yet, but could you help this young woman? Please, I insist." Isabeau said, tone pitched in such a way that it was hard to tell just which of them her last comment was directed at.

Alexandre, accustomed to being used for his height (Jacques was closer to Isabeau's height than Alexandre's own, take that), merely rolled his shoulders and adopted his usual charming grin that he used on strangers. "Of course. Is it that thread? It's a lovely shade, what are you working on, if I may ask?"

[thornedrook]

EVENT: Lady Derringford’s Picnic Auction DATE: 5 June 1800 WHO: @tenderstarved​​ BASKET: #1

T he picnic has not even begun and he is exhausted from running about, and throughly ready for this damn event to be over. He was so busy fetching napkins that he entirely missed the bidding on his basket and has no clue as to how much it went for or who it went to. His palms begin to sweat at the very thought, the basket handles slipping in his grip as the terrifying possibilities. 

And then she approaches him, a shy smile on her lips and looking only what he can think to describe as sunshine in a pretty blonde bottle. He cannot help but relax entirely, his shoulders slumping and a dashing grin lighting up his face. This was certainly a better outcome than he’d anticipated, and he thanks the stars that he sent John for blankets. Imagine!

"My lady,” he bends at the waist in greeting, the same grin still on his lips. “I am eternally in your debt. I feared the worst for my poor basket,” he jests before holding out his arm for her to take. “Shall we find a spot to settle into? I must say, I’ve been all but drooling over these meat pies all day.”

They walk for a few minutes before deciding on a nice hill in the Hidden Grove, one that is dry with a beautiful view of the Thames. John has followed behind them with another staff member and a wagon, and the pair wait patiently while the blankets, pillows, and short wooden bench are set up. The blanket is large with a white, blue and pink floral pattern, and the pillows are ivory and just tall enough to reach the base of the oak bench. Finally, a white parasol is installed just at the edge of the blanket. He leans down, voice a low whisper, “I must confess Lady Lockhart, I had to send John to fetch all of this or else we would have been sitting in the dirt. Suitable for some, but certainly not for you.”

[baronwillliam]

There was a solid chance that he would be sick and it wasn't from the alcohol imbibed on the trip back from Margate, but from nerves. If Whistledown herself were to leap from the bushes and ridicule William for his nerves, William wouldn't be able to blame her because it was pitiful, he couldn't recall the last time he felt so uncertain. It was unseemly, the lack of control he felt, although few would be able to notice it in him. Fingers that twitched, shoulders tenser than usual, movement perhaps a little more abrupt, William was in a situation that he didn't have any preparation for and, hopefully, would never have cause to be in again. Would likely never be able to bring himself to be in again, if he was being honest.

Shown into the house, William knew that it was Kate's father he should talk to, but he was undeniably grateful to be led to Kate first because there was a very important question to be asked before his visit could proceed. While William wasn't a chatty person in general, every word in his mind seemed to flee at the sight of her.

She was still Kate, she hadn't been replaced by someone new between Margate and London, and she hadn't denied seeing him, no one turned him away at the door. Things should have been like any other time he visited, even if he didn't have a squirming puppy under his arm to show off, but things had changed with Kate in the last twenty-four hours, and so his visit changed in response.

"Catherine," He finally murmured, wanting to kiss her and remembering that he couldn't. That helped him remember what he needed to do and William took a few steps forward to close the distance between them. "I'm glad I caught you. I need a moment to talk to you." Did that sound too ominous? 'We need to talk' was a stereotype, it meant that bad news was coming and William hoped his question wasn't viewed as such, shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. "I wanted to ask you if you were still certain... I realize that things were distracting at the library and perhaps we weren't clear minded, and I wanted to make sure you haven't changed your choice, that you're at peace with what you said." He hoped that Kate was, but still, William needed to offer her the choice to back out and take back her concessions if she so wished, even if William hoped that she didn't. // @tenderstarved​

[baronwillliam]

Deciding to go on the hunt at Cliveden was something of a spur of the moment decision for William, but it wasn't one he regretted. The weather was good, the company was better than expected (The impossible had perhaps happened and he may have gained a friend.) and he was filled with stories to share with not only Catherine, but also with Mr. Lockhart. While the man had been surprisingly warm and welcoming when William first asked for Catherine's hand, he didn't want to take that goodwill for granted and looked forward to asking his opinion about some of the things he'd seen in Cliveden. He knew the man was where Catherine gained her love of books and if it was possible to forge a bond with the man over stories, William wanted to do so.

In what was becoming a habit after returning from a trip away, William skipped going home to get settled back in and instead had his carriage take him directly to the Lockhart home to see Catherine. It could be excused as wanting to collect Orion, but William meant what he'd told Catherine before and she was the first person he wanted to share his new stories with, which was understandable, wasn't it? No one would judge him if he wanted to see his fiancée and all things considered, William was more collected than he was upon returning from Margate when he was suffering from a lack of sleep and an abundance of drink, almost frantic to try winning approval to marry Catherine. This was different, it was gathering up Orion and asking Mr. Lockhart how Catherine handled it and what he thought of William's idea of getting Catherine a kitten as a wedding present as well as giving him the chance to see Catherine, asking if her flowers were delivered on schedule, his promise still kept.

Left in a good mood after the hunt and feeling even more pleased with the prospect of seeing Catherine, William failed to notice the look on the face of the staff member who opened the door for him, but he did notice a tension by the time he was shown to the sitting room. It could have been anything, it could have been his imagination, but it immediately became clear that it wasn't, his eyes going from Mrs. Lockhart's face to Catherine, a sense of dread settling in his stomach like a vault of ill tidings. "What's wrong?" He asked, the smile that started to form on instinct at seeing Catherine vanishing from his face. "What's happened?"  // @tenderstarved​

[baronwillliam]

💐 For your muse to run into mine by the flower sellers in Covent Garden.

In general, William didn't have an opinion on flowers, but his mother did. He'd been told time and again that flowers were the only acceptable first gift for a lady, that flowers were a way to send a message (he had tuned out her explanation on the language of flowers more than once), and none of it seemed relevant in the least.

He didn't particularly feel inclined to purchase flowers for any lady, but there was a part of him that wondered if perhaps arranging for flowers to show up for his mother as a sort of 'I'm sorry I'm so difficult' gift would in any way get her to leave him alone for a bit and not seem so disheartened that he wasn't courting anyone. Just because there hadn't been anything remarkable about the past few events he'd attended (at least, not in his case) didn't mean she needed to get all emotional and despairing.

Did they have flowers that said "I'm difficult, but accept this gift and ignore it for a while?" He wasn't certain, and maybe he should have paid attention to the chatting about flowers, but it seemed far more compelling to simply scrap the entire idea. That was exactly what William planned on doing until he head a soft noise and turned his head to catch sight of Catherine. At the sight of her, he nonsensically wondered what the meaning behind lilies happened to be, and then he began to move.

"Miss Lockhart, an unexpected surprise." He commented, looking around at their surroundings. “Here for a special occasion?” // @tenderstarved​