ADuchessAPrivateerAndAMaidenWalkIntoABar

From IMiA

The Duchess is dressed in a navy blue sheath dress, which is well away from the more traditional style she's been sporting since their ascention to the Dukedom. The top edge of this strapless gown is accented with woven silver ribbon, as is the hem. There is a single slit along the left edge, which stops just above the knee. Everything about the gown speaks that it originated outside of Amber and likely won't last long at the center - a luxurious waste, unless she's going to send it back when this is over. She has matching navy gloves tied above her elbows with silver ribbon as well.

Juliana has also given over her usual lady's braids for a different hair-style entirely. Her golden blonde hair has been pressed straight, and hangs in a sheet down her back to end in a neat line just at her hips. Her only jewelry are the small diamonds hanging from her earlobes, and a single larger diamond depending from a thin navy choker around her throat.

With the heels she's wearing, she stands even with her husband, at about 6'2".

Once the courses are flowing Juliana relaxes, seeing everything is in fact prepared as it was demanded to be. She smiles at the handsome young Captain and says, with something of a wicked grin, "Captain Hobart, let me introduce you to a young lady friend of mine I met when we were serving in Begma for a time."

As the duchess turns to Phoebe the smile goes from wicked to contained. "Captain, this is Miss Frewin. Miss Frewin, Captain Hobart. The captain is a fine privateer herebouts, and has been making quite a name for himself of late. Besides which, We enjoy his company."

Phoebe has a certain ethereal loveliness, with her golden curls and a look of fragility, but her eyes are unusually dark and possess a candour and directness that is almost as striking as her prettiness (Casting Emilia Fox). She is wearing a long straight dress of pale blue silk, simply but artfully fashioned (by Worth, no less), and highly suitable for a young lady making her come out, with the neckline verging on the modest. Her hair is dressed in a top knot high on her head, decorated with intricately woven tiny and delicate flowers that match the colour of her dress - although some seem to have become a little dislodged. Her eyes are as bright as though lit from within by stars, and she looks at Wesley with an expression which can only be described as awed.

At Julianna's introduction, she chokes a little on her wine, and one of the flowers tumbles from her golden hair onto the pristine white linen of the tablecloth (OOC - or so one assumes it is).

"A privateer?" she says. "Really? But how tremendously thrilling!" She is gazing at him with wide-eyed eagerness. "Only now I expect you're going to tell me that it is all a hum, and that being a privateer is really desperately over-rated, which will be a sad disappointment, for I have to tell you that when we were in the second form, we had a vote as to wish was the romantic way to live your life, and being a privateer came second - it even edged out running away with the gypsies.

"There was the most tremendous row," she adds reminescently. "We were meant to be deciding which was the worthiest profession to follow - you know, working with the poor and the sick, helping the poor animals and so on. The romantic vote was meant to be =quite= separate and private, of course. Only Eustacia got the two lists muddled up, and handed in the wrong one. You should have seen Sister Humility's face when she had to read out that in third place, the Second Form thought the most worthy way of life was becoming the mistress of a Prince, and then in second it was becoming a privateer. She had turned so red and was shaking so much with anger that she never read out the winning vote at all."

Captain Wesley Hobart is dressed in his usual dashing manner, which tonight apparently means a well-tailored black jacket worn over a vest the color of a fine merlot, and under that a rather plain white silk shirt. When he took his seat at the table, Wesley's black pants appeared to form themselves to his body more closely than is strictly fashionable for such a formal event, but he seemed comfortable enough despite that. He is also wearing his much used rapier despite being seated for dinner, which is, at least in the eyes of some, another definite fashion faux pas. It is probably just as well that none of these critics have chosen to bring these points to Captain Hobart's attention this evening.

When he is introduced by the Duchess, Wesley bows (as well as one can while seated) toward Miss Frewin and flashes one of his charming smiles. He then listens attentively, obviously more than a bit amused, as she relays her tale of the vote taken in the Second Form.

 "Were you ever able to find out what did finish in first place?" he asks as

she finishes the story. "Perhaps I need to consider a career change, though I must admit that I think I would find it hard to best my current line of work."

Phoebe laughs. "Actually," she confides, "I can't quite see you as the Sorceress of the Red Tower of Philate, dressed in flowing silken robes of palest lilac, your black hair tumbling to your knees and possessing a deadly beauty that makes all men your helpless slaves."

She allows him to digest this vision of himself, along with his salad, while she helps herself to more of the peppery leaves.

"It was a novel, you see," she explains. "The Mysteries of the Red Tower. We weren't meant to be reading it - we had to do it in the dorm after lights out. One person had the candle and did the reading - Megritte Blockner was the best, she did all the voices splendidly - and whoever drew the short straw stood watch. And it was utterly exciting and quite desperately romantic, so we all voted ... "

A sudden thought strikes her and she looks up at him with the hopefulness of a puppy. "Is your ship, your pirate ship, actually here in Amber by any chance?"

Juliana snorts and turns to give the Captain a quick apologetic look, although she is highly amused. She turns back to Phoebe. "We don't call them pirate ships when the crown has given license, my romantic young lady. But perhaps the Captain would care to explain the difference between a privateer and pirate?"

"Certainly," Wesley agrees with a smile. "You see, a privateer can openly attend fine dinners such as this one, while a pirate rarely dines with nobility." He pauses for a moment. "At least not if the nobility has anything to say about it."

"Unless, of course, some poor desperate noble has hired a pirate for some fiendish scheme," Juliana grins.

"True. And there is never a shortage of desperate schemes," the Captain agrees with a smile.

Phoebe gave a little chuckle. "I see. So as I am introduced to you here, I can assume you are a privateer and not a pirate ... is that less romantic, to be a privateer? And do you have a prvateer ship in the harbour ... or would that be a sad let down if I were to see it?"

Again the hopeful puppy regards him. "You cannot =imagine= how =green= all my friends in Begma would be if I told them I had been on a =real= privateer's ship!"

"I'd be glad to help you with that, though perhaps we should wait until at least after dinner, so as not to upset our charming hostess," Wesley tells the enthusiastic young woman. "I don't think my ship, Raptor, will prove to be especially disappointing, though I'll have to make sure the boys make themselves presentable."

He takes a sip of his wine. "Tell me, how long were you looking to sign on for? And what was the last ship you served on?" Though Captain Hobart's tone seems to be quite serious, the corners of his mouth are turned up slightly, as though he's trying hard not to smile.

"My last ship," says Phoebe, in a perfectly grave voice, although her eyes are sparkling, "a rowing boat with a rather fine swan prow, and my voyage was a cruise around the royal boating lake in Begma with my younger brother Colin. And despite following orders from the old man who was rowing us both, a certain confusion between left and right in my mind led me to steer us straight into the boat containing their Majesties the King and Queen of Begma. However, as I was only six at the time, I was swiftly forgiven and not sentenced to walk the plank or anything. Still, I suppose attacking the royal row-boat does allow me to claim a pirate adventure of my own, even if it was inadvertent.

"As for signing on ... well, would a single afternoon be considered permissible?"

Juliana smiles.

Wesley looks thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that would do, though I don't know if I can promise you a full share of the treasure," he tells her. "Now, tell me more about this pirate adventure of yours. Did you have a chance to get the Royal jewels, or did you have to settle for taking the Queen prisoner? I find that the first tends to be more profitable, but I've met captains who swear by ransoming prisoners."

"Alas," says Phoebe sadly, " we were a little young to take jewels or prisoners. I daresay you will think it very poor spirited of us, but we contented ourselves with a goodly ransom of sweetmeats. And kisses too - when we made our gallant excuses, all the ladies insisted on kissing us - and several of the gentlemen kissed me too, which quite scandalised my poor Nurse who was watching from the bank. As for profit ... I seem to remember we both profited by the stomachache that followed from eating too many sweetmeats before supper, but I think that was not quite the kind of profit you envisaged, was it?"

Juliana laughs. "That's so adorable though. I can just see it. But at least you did board them then."

"Yes, without the boarding it's definitely not piracy of any sort," Captain Hobart agrees. "I'm glad you escaped being hung for it, Miss Frewin. Come to think of it, the King and Queen's approval of your endeavour actually makes you more of a privateer than a pirate, I'm glad to say. Welcome to our fine profession." He raises his glass to the young woman before taking a sip of wine.

Phoebe blushes a little, but raises her glass in a return salute, which she very nearly carries off with easy nonchalence.

"My thanks to you, Sir." Then she smiles mischieviously at him. "or should I call you 'Cap'n'?" Her accent for the word is very nearly perfect - it seems Miss Frewin may well be a wicked mimic.

Juliana smiles in appreciation at this little skill of Phoebe's, and then sends a wink across the table at her husband.

"You should probably just call me Wesley, at least until you're on board," Wesley tells Phoebe after a moment's thought. "Though you do say Cap'n rather well. Perhaps you could teach the crew to say it too?"

Phoebe laughs again. "I'm sure there would be a great deal they could teach me in retuurn," she says. "How to shiver my timbers, and splice the mainbrace and ... well, all sorts of exciting things." Then she sighs a little. "Only I suppose I had bettwer wait and see what Mama says." She droops slightly. It appears she believes Mama will not sanction an excursion with a dashing privateeer.

"Posh on that," Juliana says quietly. "We can just stop by after the Circus."

The duchess turns to Wesley. "You don't mind, do you, if I bring my circus box-mates by for a tour, do you?"

"That depends on how many of them there are, and whether or not they remember that mine is a working ship," he tells her. "I'll not have my men spend Carnival scrubbing the ship, or themselves."

"If your guests can abide by that, then they are, of course, welcome."

"No one is insensible. It's myself, Mistress Lange, Miss Frewin here, Lady Patrice, Princess Deirdre and likely Lady Delia. I know for myself, my goodsister and the princess, we've got many sea voyages amoung us. Delia is reserved, in my experience, and Mrs. Lange will go with the flow. What say you, sir?" Juliana asks, smiling.

"I am trying to swear off dealing with royalty, at least until good King Oberon's return, but I suppose I'll not deny you over the presence of a Princess," Captain Hobart says with a wry smile. "I hope that you don't all find my frigate too boring after a day at the circus."

"Well I wouldn'r," says Phoebe with a candour that appears to be characteristic. "But then Sister Prudent Conversation was always saying that I was harum scarum, a hoyden and thoroughly unladylike. And I don't think you should look for those qualities in Lady Julianna or her other guests - although I can quite see they might be useful on a pira ... on a privateer."

Juliana just can't resist giving Wesley a smile that says he can look however he likes for her unladylikeness.

"My darling Phoebe," Juliana says, turning back to her, "A nun said this? I don't even know what harum scarum means! And the least a young lady can strive for is a little hoyden-ness. If ladylike means boring then who would want to be that?"

"I don't think being ladylike is boring," says Phoebe thoughtfully. "I mean ... not if it's done properly. No-one would denty that Mama is very ladylike, and she's not ... well, boring. And look at Princess Flora." There is a note of hero-worship in her voice as she mentions Flora's name.

"But I think it can be hard work, of a very particular kind. And I don't think I'm terribly good at it - not yet. But we shall have to hope I grow into it." She gives Julianna a shy smile. "You and dear kind Lad Patrice are ladylike, after all. You set the fashions others must follow."

Wesley simply looks amused at this exchange, taking the opportunity to eat some of his salad.

"Well, some poor fashionistas are going to be horribly confused if they're watching Patrice and I both," Juliana chuckles. "I was raised to believe ladylike was quite boring, but one does what one can."

The only thing is," says Phoebe, apparently absorbed in selecting another leaf or two from the salad bowl, "I'm not sure if the clothes I wear for the circus will be exactly suitable for climbing all over a privateer ship."

She raises her eyes from the salad to cast a melting look at Wesley. "Will you let me climb to the crows' nest?"

"I don't see why not, as long as you're not planning on doing it wearing a gown, or even skirts," Wesley replies, seeming more amused than effected by her look. "After all, the men are only....well....men."

"Indeed," Juliana laughs, shooting the Duke a look across the table. She turns to Wesley and speaks quietly. "I think we can handle it. A little newspaper boy into the carriage, a little newspaper boy out."

Juliana turns back to Phoebe, and leans close to whisper. "Worry not darling, you'll be on the ship as a boy, and a boy will wait in the carriage as you, since we wouldn't want to upset your mother in any way." She smiles like a woman who loves to practice deceit and doesn't get to do it nearly enough to satisfy.

Phoebe's eyes glow with pleasure at the thought of this. She turns to Julianna and asks eagerly, "Really? Oh that would be positively =miraculous=!"

"I'm looking forward to seeing how the two of you manage to pull this off," Wesley remarks with a grin. "Just be aware that if it all tries to go bad on you, I'm not going to get between Phoebe and her mother. Even a swashbuckling privateer has limits."

"Yes, Captain, leave the diplomacy to the diplomats. Besides which, I have full confidence in the young lady, in that fight," Juliana notes, and smiles for Phoebe.

Wesley laughs. "Really? I'll keep that in mind when I place my wager!"

"A wager?" says Phoebe, her eyes brightening. "How exciting! We weren't meant to wager at the Convent, you know! And certainly not on Sister Pious Felicitations running away with the under drawing master. Actually, I was only two days out in my estimate as to when their first child would be born - seven months and seven days ... and I'd said five."

Juliana snorts. "I'm curious, love. What happens when a nun runs away, besides that she is not a nun any longer?"

"Nothing good, no matter how much in love she may think she is during the running part," Wesley suggests.

"Well," says Phoebe, "anyone who transgresses is, of course, Never Mentioned Again." The capitals are audible in her voice. "I really don't know if the nuns have formal casting off ceremonies. But we girls are always given to understand that any nun who leaves in disgrace is unhappy indeed, for her lovely will assuredly abandon her, she will become addicted to alcohol and truly nxious substances, and will doubtless End Up on the Streets, selling her miserable body for a few pitiful pennies.

"But actually, I don't think that can have happened to Sister Pious Felicitations because we saw her one day when the Upper Fifth were walking in croc through the marketplace. She was quite plump and looked perfectly prosperous buying her groceries, with a beautiful baby on her hip and a little girl hiding in her skirts. And a wedding ring too - Esme Andalansky made certain to look.

"What will your wager be, Cap'n?"

"That'll depend on who wants to lay bets on it," Wesley tells her. "It's a bit too....esoteric a subject for most of my usual gang to want to wager on it at all."

"I'm sure you could get... oh, nevermind, you're avoiding those types," Juliana teases.

"What types?" asks Phoebe incorrigibly.

It seems the excitement of her first grown up dinner party, the company of a sashing privateeer and the rather fine champagne the Carlysles are serving are all rather going to her head.

 "The children of good King Oberon," Captain Hobart explains, plainly

amused by Phoebe asking such a question. "They tend to bring trouble and misfortune with them, and those are things I prefer to avoid."

Phoebe looked slightly startled at hearing the august Amberites referred to in such irreverent terms - especially at a dinner party were so many were present. She risked a glance up and down the table, as though she expected them to be listening with disapprobation.

"It's a gamble, always. trouble and misfortune, fame and opportunity. I've found these things go hand in hand. Do not expect good things without bad ones from anyone, Miss Frewin," Juliana smiles but there is a warning in there. "Sucess is not for the meek, as I'm sure the captain agree."

Phoebe nods seriously. "Oh, I won't forget!" she assures her hostess fervently. Then she shoots one of her speculative looks at Captain Hobart, as though wondering what bad things could be attached to a glorious visit to a privateer.

"I agree," Wesley assures their hostess, "though it's a fine line between bold and foolish, as more than one of my colleagues has demonstrated before riding their ship to the bottom. We simply have different views about which side of the line this falls on."

He turns his gaze back toward Phoebe. "So then, are you enjoying your stay in Amber so far, Miss Frewin?" he asks, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table.

"Almost too much," she tells him. "It makes me think nothing will ever compare - and I want to enjoy it for as long as I can before I start to save the family fortune."

Captain Hobart looks a bit confused. "You won't be doing that in Amber then? This has always struck me as a fine place for the making, or saving, of fortunes."

"Probably," says Phoebe. "At least ... Mama says my opportunities will be much improved, here in Amber."

She fails to look overjoyed by the prospect - indeed, she looks positively pensive for a moment. But then she looks quickly at Captain Hobart and smiles.

"But I don't have to worry about that tonight, at all events!"

"Of course, one might hope a young lady will find the way of such things in her adventures. One never knows where they'll lead," Juliana smiles, and then throws a much more seductive one over the table at her husband. She leans closer to Phoebe. "Maybe even to an Earl," she whispers.

"On the other hand, there is much to be said for independant ladies," Juliana smiles, returning to her normal tone.

Wesley nods in agreement. "They certainly tend to be the more interesting sort, at least in my experience. Of course, one can be both well married and independant," he notes, and raises his glass to their hostess.

Juliana's smile twists just a little. "Oh captain, my captain, if only a woman could be both. I don't know any married lady in Amber who is really independant, and I'm certainly not. I've merely got a very long lead."

Phoebe gets another whisper. "And that's the truth darling. If you have to marry someone, at least find someone who will give you the space you need to grow."

-- Main.LizTrumitch - 27 Mar 2005