Welcome lords and ladies, to what is sure to be the route of the season! Here we shall meet, the best of the Bon Ton. The story starts just after the end of the season at a country house party of the Dowager of Marchford, Mother of the new Earl of Marchford. Ostentatiously the party is to celebrate the end of the Dowager's morning period but the On Dits have it that it is actually an attempt by the dowager to snare her son a wealthy bride. Despite gossip about a scandal in the family's past (the grandfather of the current Earl was rumored to have contacts with french contraband runners) the party is still rumored to be the country party of the decade. You are all very excited to have received an invitation and look forward to seeing and being seen by the cream of Victorian society.

Characters:
Played by: Pondscums
Dowager of Marchford : Lady Bula Brentworth
The Earl of Marchford: Marcus H. Brentworth

Guidelines:

1: Don't post here with profiles. Please Pm them to Pondscums
2: Please think before posting. This is a historical RP. Please use time period correct language and attitudes.
3. OOC Comments should be in ((double brackets )) Please limit OOC comments.
4. Please act in a respectful and grownup manner. This is a Mature Lit RP, you should be writing at a university level. Volume is not a requirement but quality is.

GMS
Pondscums

Black List

Marcus Lady Brentworth

Marcus was fuming. It wasn't very becoming for a gentleman to frown and huff over such a matter, but that was just what he felt like doing. The cause of his distress was sitting next to his breakfast, written in perfect slanting feminine handwriting. "Dear Son..." He snorted and drummed his fingers on the offending object. He knew his Mother figured it was the solution to all their problems but it wasn't dammit! His Father had done the thing, married for money to shore up his failing estate and look how well that had ended, right back to the same problem again. Damn it WHEN he had time for marriage he would be solvent in his own right and not leave his wife and sons with nothing but debt and regrets. But his Mother, knowing full well his objections had gone ahead and sent out the invitations for this farce of a house party knowing he would be honor bound to come help her look after the guests as head of the family. God save him from well meaning family he thought as he pushed his chair away from the table and headed upstairs to instruct his valet to prepare his luggage.

Richard Watson Emily Watson

Richard watched his sister as she went over the books for her lands. He'd offered her the services of his own steward, but she refused. He couldn't blame her, their stepfather had left a bad taste in his mouth too. He just wished she'd act more like a lady of her station. She hardly ever went to any parties, she actually went to the theatre for the show. The only consolation was that she did keep her appearance up. He only felt the smallest twing of guilt for what he was about to do.

Entering the room, he smiled. "There you are, Em," he said. "I should have figured you'd be in here."

Emily looked up and smiled at her brother. She pulled her spectacles off, her eyes dancing merrily. "You never come to the country unless you are hiding," she said rising from her chair. She embraced her brother. "Which is it this time? A jealous husband or a clingy young lass?"

Richard smiled and hugged his sister. Despite her faults, she was still his dearest friend. "Neither actually. I'm on my way to lend support. You remember Marchford, we went to Oxford together?"

Emily frowned as she tried to remember the few names of his classmates from that ill fated attempt at higher education. "Vaguely," she said. "Why? Is he about to step into the Parson's Mousetrap?"

"In a way," he said. "His mother is hosting a party at the family estates. She's invited every eligible partie' to the event. I told him I would bring my sister to help, since she had no intentions of putting herself on the Marriage Mart."

"Richard! You didn't!" she cried.

Richard just gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sure you received an invitation anyway. I just responded for you."

Emily sighted. She had received the invitation, she just hadn't gotten around to sending her regrets. Now it seemed her hand was forced, she would have to accept. "Very well," she sighed. "Come, I'll send for tea and you'll tell me about your travels."

((Sorry if I went a little overboard, but I tend to do that on intro posts!))

"Lady Bula Brentworth requests your presence at her home on the occasion of her son's return, Marcus H. Brentworth."

Theodosia stood on tenterhooks as her father read the invitation out loud. She watched as his stern, slightly clouded eyes scanned the expensive paper for what seemed to her to be the thousandth time. Finally he lowered his spectacles and turned his attention to her.

Theodosia waited in silence, positively vibrating with excitement. She lived for these events - as a pretty, high class girl, what else was there for her to look forward to? She was indeed very pretty, but in the same way that a ceramic vase was pretty. Glossy and beautiful on the outside, hollow on the inside. Her hair, always immaculately styled, was a sunny copper, which contrasted in a very lovely way with her dinner-plate wide blue eyes. People had whispered behind their hands to each other that Theodosia Dawes was a flirt, but she payed them no mind. After all, they usually used long words that she didn't know the meaning of.

Lord Dawes spoke, addressing the thin woman seated by his side, without taking his eyes off his excited daughter. "Well?"

The woman carefully rearranged her expensive, flowing skirt and turned dull eyes to him. "Let her go, Henry." The woman gave her daughter a disdainful look. "Perhaps she'll stop all this nonsense and get a suitable proposal this time."

"Very well."


Now, a week later, Theodosia was seated in her brougham carriage, her voluminous powder blue skirt spread out over the plush seats. Some vague stern old lady was seated beside her, but Theodosia took no notice of her. She was to be Theodosia's chaperon, but the girl had learned many ways to break free of a chaperon's supervision. She was especially skilled in convincing them that they had headaches and had to have a lie down.

The carriage rumbled on, taking Theodosia away from her father's expensive, secluded estate, following the country roads towards the expensive, secluded estate of the Brentworths.