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Continuation - The Hotel - The Fenton residence [22 Jun 2006|11:05am]


Philip said to his steward, "Inform lady Sherbrook that I must go out, an emergency. I will not be home for the dinner hour." With that, Philip grabbed his pistol and was gone.

Thirty minutes later he was in the hotel room where, after speaking quietly to the bartender, Philip had three dead bodies to deal with.

Raking his hands back through his hair, he looked down at the notes he had penned and waited for the undertaker to arrive to collect the bodies. It was the brutality of the deaths that shook Philip. And now he was going to have to pay a visit to Mr. Fenton's wife. Letter's would have to be written; a Miss Eugenia Thorpe needed to be told. It was all of this about his work that he detested the most.

With men taking care of cleaning up, Philip gave Jack orders as far as the hotel goes to keep his mind preoccupied. When the undertaker arrived, Philip left.

The carriage ride to the Fenton estate did not last as long as Philip would have liked, and all too soon was he knocking on the front entrance door.

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Ashbury Hall [21 Jun 2006|09:04am]

As promised, the next afternoon, the Hawthorne's phaeton pulled into Ashbury Hall's lane shortly before tea. Victoria, now that she had time to consider, was actually a touch nervous, and that was hardly helping her to feel better. He'd mentioned his cheeks were a little pink yesterday; she hoped he'd recovered fully.

To add to her concern, Mrs. Hawthorne still didn't know why Victoria had been called out that evening; Victoria and Dr. Hawthorne, who knew the truth, had told her it was to care for a friend who had fallen ill. But as such, Mrs. Hawthorne couldn't have accompanied her, and Dr. Hawthorne had been busy with his congregation again. As such, Mariah was sitting beside her.

Currently, Mariah was scowling. "I don't like him, Vic. He's a cad."

"The one who tossed you in the pigsty?" she asked, knowing she was wrong but feeling obliged to ask anyway.

Mariah's features darkened, and Victoria instantly regretted bringing it up. "I meant Mr. Prescot. He's a cad."

"I'll try to remember to mention it to him," Victoria murmured in a tone implying she would do no such thing. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Mariah almost growled. "So long as they stay out of my way, I'll stay out of theirs," she said, in the same implying tone Victoria had used.

Victoria sighed as they came to a stop. She sent Dr. Hawthorne's card in.
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A Blaze of Glory [21 Jun 2006|01:14am]

Llewelyn stirred the embers of the fire in the hearth with a yawn as the long day wore on her. She placed the poker on it's stand and stretched her arms above her head and swept her loose hair into her hands before releasing it and letting it fall upon her back tickling her. Her nightdress swept the floor as she made her way to her bedroom and laid her head upon the pillow and let herself fall asleep within moments of doing so.

It was far too late when the smell drifted into her nostrils and roused her. The smoke burned her eyes as she forced them open and upon inhailing her chest heaved and she coughed as the ash and heat filled her lungs. There was nothing to be done. It was far too late for her to staunch the blaze that now engulfed her home and she stumbled from the bed looking for an escape. Her feet singed as they were placed upon the floor.

Breathing was becoming more and more difficult and the smoke clouded her vision as she stumbled through the darkness. Before long she collapsed gasping in the airless room as the area around her become hotter and the crackling roar of the flames that consumed her home was all she could hear. She thought to call out for help but lacked the strength. Before long the lack of oxygen slowed her breathing and she gasped her last breath before darkness over took her.

By morning all that remained of the pleasant cottage, and Llewelyn was the stone hearth of the fireplace and chared rubble.
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At the edge of St. John's Property [Open] [20 Jun 2006|06:36pm]

[ooc: Open, if anyone would like to come upon him.]

At the very edge of the Saint John Hall property line to the south of the house, Brycen had claimed a bit of land as his own for exercise purposes. There was a fine line of trees with unevenly spaced branches from which James had hung a series of small rings, varying in size. He had also lay down cloths on the ground to mark random spots and a long line of poles held upright by bags of sand.

As the day began to cool towards evening, Brycen had sent word to St. John that he was going out for a bit of schooling on Gosphalen. Word was sent down to the stable to have the gelding bridled but left without a saddle. Brycen changed from his fine coat to a worn pair of breeches and an old shirt, his one concession to his usually fastidious nature being his cravat was neatly tied at his neck and an old waist coat nipped in his lean frame.

Tying his sword belt around his waist as he walked out to the stable, he gave the head lad notice of where he would be, in case Gosphalen came back without him, always a distinct possibility with Gosphalen and then leapt nimbly up on his ever restive perch. The gelding skittered backwards and bounced up in the air, a move that did little to shake his rider loose and for some reason, the gray seemed to be of a mood to behave for the moment.

It was positively unheard of.Collapse )
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Continuation - Carriage ride home [20 Jun 2006|06:46pm]

Philip was quiet on the way home; thinking deeply about the afternoon spent at Saint John Hall. He was reflective and unconcerned about Diana as she sat quietly at his side.

Just before they arrived though, the country scenery came in to play, and he focused finally upon where they were.

He turned his head then and stared down at Diana, saying simply, "You were very friendly this afternoon. Did you enjoy the company of the gentlemen?"
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The Hotel Nero del Gatto [20 Jun 2006|06:43pm]

Since he told Lydia he would not be long, Rian was going to speak to Jack about a few things and then settle himself in his office, concentrating on getting some much needed paperwork done. Most likely at that, he would end up taking most of it home with him. He did not like to be away from his wife for such long periods of time, especially since she was so ovbiously close to her due date.
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In town - Cigar shop [19 Jun 2006|10:24pm]

Lucien was walking slowly, up and down the isles, around the corners, listening to the shop keeper carry on a conversation that he had yet, to partake of. The man's incessant chatter was slowly driving him insane and he could not very well pick out his favored cigars with the man following him, speaking about the devil knew what.

Suddenly lord Litchfield turned on him, his dark eyes nearly black in the dim lighting of the shop. "My good man, do you think me a thief?" He asked pleasantly enough.

The shopkeeper's jaw fell and he looked a bit bewildered, "Uh, uh no my lord."

"Then go back to where you came from and let me in peace. Do I wish to make a purchase, you will be the first to know." It was all he said before he turned once more, presenting the man his back.
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Rosemont - the drawing room [19 Jun 2006|07:26pm]

Rian was in the drawing room, laying on the floor with Emma, both of them on their backs and staring up at the paintings on the ceiling. Emma was telling him a story about one of the cherubs up there, something silly, but yet utterly captivating.

"And when it is dark Emma? Where does the little cherub go then?"

"Why it goes to his mama of course. You cannot see her right now. She only comes out at night."

"I see. And so, during the day, he stays right there, for all of us to see?"

"Da, are you looking at him right now?" Emma said in her cute, little girl voice.

"Aye, that I am."

"Then he stays right there during the day, for all of us to see. Da, " she giggled. "You ask the silliest of questions."

"Oh, well, pardon me my dear daughter. I'll just hush now and let you continue on, eh?"

"Have I not been telling you to hush since the beginning?"

"Aye." Rian chuckled.

"Then hush da..."
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The Tea Shop in Teasdale [19 Jun 2006|03:44pm]

Free now of more unsavory tasks like being questioned by the local constable and taking a bath to get the mud off, Victoria was taking a break from the most unsavory task of all: Mending Mariah's dress. It was muddy beyond hope, torn in a few places, and she despaired of fixing it.

She had sought a place where she would not think of Mr. Prescot; she wasn't sure if she was angry with him or amused. She hoped he was angry with himself.

"I saw no reason for you to give the book away," Mrs. Hawthorne said between cups of tea; it was a new blend, with spices from India, and she was sampling it for her fourth cup.

Victoria shook her head but didn't explain. There didn't seem any way to explain it, especially since she hadn't fully known what she was doing at the time. "Have you come to a decision about which tea you'd like to purchase, madam?"
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Continuation of the catastrophe at the Prescot hoome... [19 Jun 2006|02:05pm]

After staying with Ashton until he finally relaxed into a state of repose, Christopher had another cup of tea made, not with valerian root, and carried the tray to the room where he had been told his fiancee was resting herself. He knocked quietly upon the door and allowed himself entry into the room without waiting to hear her reply. He absolutely needed to examine her and, more importantly, speak with her. He loved her so dearly that it frightened him and worried him that perhaps her seeing the terrible scene before might have left a similar effect upon her like the night of the pirate attack. She was so precious to him that he could not bear to imagine her hurt and was pleased to see when he entered the room that she did not appear harmed at all. He did, however, know he would have to answer for his brash and curt attitude before, so he bowed his head a bit and set down the tea service upon a nearby table.

"Ashley, I'm--I'm so terribly sorry you had to see your brother like that and that I was so cold to you, but you must know it was the right thing to do."
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Teasdale Market [19 Jun 2006|01:22pm]

Mariah was pissed. And she would never admit it, but it wasn't because she'd been thrown into a pigsty, nor because someone had thrown a punch at her jaw. It was because her dress was ruined.

Her expression dark, she headed towards the dress shop. She was going to get a new dress, one that didn't have mud and smell a la pig all over it.
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The Hotel Nero del Gatto; Front room. [18 Jun 2005|02:36am]

Sybil had just slipped into her new gilded gown, with ivory underpinnings of fern-like lace, and felt the need to show it off a bit. Her money was dwindling due to her lack of customers, but she did not look it one bit. She spent it as lavishly as before because, well, if she was to go out, she would go out with a red hot flame.

Unfortunately, as of late, she had not been up to the chase. Even though she had sworn to Belicia that she was invigorated to begin, she felt a bit weary, and usually wished to stay in her bed all day, reading trashy French romance novels and eating expensive bon bons.

But finally she had realized what a lazy wreck she was becoming. It was after the initial realization then, and Sybil had brushed her hair until it had an immaculate sheen and nipped her cheeks to add a ruddy rouge. She sashayed into the entry-room of the hotel and absorbed herself with a large vase brimming with lily-of-the-vally, believing the color of the flora to be complimentary to her gown. She would wait until she was approached by a wealthy-looking gentleman, which she was sure would not be too long.
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Calling Upon Poppy [17 Jun 2006|01:35am]

William had decided that the carriage was unnecessary on such a fine morning as he made his way to Greenflax Narrows to inquire upon Miss Schellden's health. Since the dinner party the night before he had worried that her illness may have taken a turn for the worse and had spent most of his time fretting over his new friend's well-being.

He dismounted at the door to the house and handed his mare off to the servant before removing his hat, gloves, and great coat and leaving those along with his riding crop with the doorman. "I am come to inquire upon the health of Miss Schellden," he said to the man. He nodded and left as William lingered in the vestibule awaiting word from either Miss Schellden herself or perhaps that brother of hers, whom William had yet to have an actual conversation with.
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Hotel Nero del Gatto - Continued [16 Jun 2006|11:31pm]

When she got back to her place she was happy to see Keeley had left. All she would have done was shout and be angry with him, he was a good outlet for her rage and self loathing, she blamed herself for Maurice's death.

She sang a few more songs, and just as before her heart wasn't in it. When she finally finished she moved back to Mr. Hill, normally she would have rushed to have dinner but she found that she could not bring herself to even think of food.

"Will you come upstairs to the gallery with me? It is much more quiet there." Mr. Hill seemed so sweet and kind to her, his presence was very soothing.
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Noon at the Krespel Home [16 Jun 2006|09:06pm]

Antonia passed through the hallway of the Krespel home, stopping before a mirror briefly to adjust her purple travelling jacket and dress, striving for an effortless appearance. Today she had allowed her hair to flow freely, a bit tired of constantly having more pins than she could count atop her crown. It was meant to be a day of relaxation in the country with her fiancee, not a full formal event, after all.

She seemed to float about a bit from place to place, the memory of Damien's steamy kiss upon her arm still fresh in her memory. Part of her longed to feel such a delightful sensation once more, but she could not, nor would not, instigate such an instance herself. She was far too timid and clearly too inexperienced in the ways of love for something like that.

Her thoughts were distracted by a servant who approached her with the picnic basket and a small travelling bag filled with blankets and napkins. She instructed him to place them by the door while she waited until her fiancee would arrive.
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The offices of Dr. Belmonte [16 Jun 2006|08:10pm]

A servant stood outside the door, banging his fist. "Dr. Belmonte! Mr. Prescot is in dire need of ye services! Dr. Belmonte!"

(ooc: Ange, you can respond in Ashton's post below! ;-))
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Ashbury Hall - Goldsmith parsonage [16 Jun 2006|06:09pm]

Upon the delivery of Miss Tilney's missive and basket of strawberries, a hush fell over the servants as Ashton smiled wide, laughed even, and strode for his library where he kicked his door shut behind him, assuring his privacy.

Sitting before the hearth, he placed the basket on his lap and sat there, staring at the lush red fruit. Picking one up, he bit into the sweetness and closed his eyes, savoring the taste and thinking of Victoria. He wasn't one to sit and eat fruit, so it was rather delightful eating a strawberry for the first time, especially knowing they came from Miss Tilney.

Ashton continued sitting there for the next several minutes until the whole of an hour passed. And before he realized it, he had eaten every single one.

When he finally emerged from his library, he loosened his cravat, itching at his throat. 

"Sir!" Nimbles stopped him in the hallway, his jaw nearly hanging to his chest.

"Yes?" Ashton said as he turned to face his steward.

"Dear God! Your face! It is - - It is, well, it is puffing up!"

"What?" Ashton said, this time with a bit of a thick tongue.

"Well, your face sir, and your neck! By God! Look at your hands!"

Ashton, who had been standing there, itching at his chest, suddenly splayed his fingers out in front of him. They were red, swelling..."For the love of God! She has poisoned me! Call the Constable! Get Miss Tilney! Dear God!"

"Yes sir! Right away sir!"

Goldsmith Parsonage

Not much later Nimbles was beating his fist against the front door of the Hawthorn's.

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Tepes Estate [16 Jun 2006|04:35pm]

Emy was sitting in the music room, her son nestled in the crook of her arm. And the fingers of her right hand skimmed lightly over the delicate keys of the pianoforte as she sang softly to Ivan.

"My lady," said a footman from the doorway.

Turning her head, she smiled pleasantly, her fingers stopping their movement of play. "Yes, John?"

"Dinner is served." John said politely, his light blue eyes kind.

"Thank you John." Standing up from the bench, Emy walked forward, kissing her son's tiny mouth before Beth was instantly there, taking him from her arms.

"And his lordship, would you know where he is John?"
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In town, as per her husband's orders [16 Jun 2006|10:16am]

After writing a quick note to her mother, Diana and the housekeeper set out for town. The ride was rather pleasant, though the housekeeper went on and on about Philip, apparently she had been working for him for several years and her report of him was absolutely glowing. Diana tolerated all this rather well until she began to speak on how handsome he was, she had to quickly change the subject of course. Philip was... pleasant looking but she found it very hard to get over his cold manner and his utter loathing of her, which was of course, completely unwarranted, she had been all but perfect in her behavior towards him.

The ride did not take too long and soon Diana was handing out her husband's card to every shop-keep in every shop and stall. She stalled in the booksellers, her eyes lovingly scanning the leather clad volumes before her, the housekeeper had given up on trying to get her mistress out of the store so she merely left her be while she went back to the fruit stall.

Perhaps she was not exactly following her husband's orders, for she had met no one other than the shopkeepers, but there was nothing in the world she would pass up a good book for.
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Lyons Gate - the Library [16 Jun 2006|09:20am]

"The devil take it!" Damien near shouted as he paced along the thick Abusson carpet in front of his desk. The single missive held in his right hand, giving him no clue as to its bearer.

"I'm sorry my lord. But it was just there. Laying on the floor, slipped under the door. By the time I saw it, it was too late, the deliverer was well gone." Beams said stoically near the entranceway.

"Did you search the premises."

"Aye, my lord."

"Who would dare to think to insult me? Damnation!" He cursed low, moving behind his desk to sit and pen a note to Alex, despite the words he just read.

"My lord, might I suggest you remember your fiance."

Damien looked over at his manservant, his blue eyes cold, hard.

"Very good my lord." Beams said, turning and leaving the library to his master, but always ever close should he be instantly summoned.

Damien took out a piece of plain foolscap, inexpensive and without detail. And he began to write...
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