PayingThePiper

From IMiA

When Juliana returns from her afternoon appointments, Edwards tells her that Phillip and Patrice are in the library, enjoying a libation. Something about the way he says it suggests that they've enjoyed quite a few libations.

When she joins them, Juliana can see that Patrice, at least, has enjoyed her share of whatever they've been drinking. In fact, she can tell from some distance down the hall, where she can hear Patrice's laughter at some witticism of Phillip's. At least she sounds like a merry drunk.

Patrice gestures Juliana over with her left hand, which Juliana will note is bandaged. Patrice's right sleeve has a neat slice in it, but there doesn't seem to be any blood. Phillip is untouched, of course.

"Come join us, darling. We're just having a glass of whiskey and talking about the old days." A significantly drained decanter with a little amber liquid in it sits on the table next to them.

Phillip stands as Juliana enters the room. "Evening, love," he says. His glass is either half full or half empty. His eyes are bright and he looks to be in a pleasant mood.

She comes over and smiles at Phillip, soaking him in, and kisses him.

Then Juliana pours herself 1/4 glass as she says, "I should just be happy not to find Vanessa here, having drank two of these, still sober."

"If she were here, we might have drunk more," Phillip says.

Patrice laughs. "I know I would have. And I rather imagine you'd be having more than two fingers' worth, Juliana." She grins at Phillip, as if enjoying a private joke. "It is rather discomfiting to be drunk under the table by one's own mother."

With her good hand, Patrice raises her glass. "To not being drunk under the table by Mother."

Juliana will drink to that.

Phillip joins in the ritual as well.

The three glasses clink and Patrice tosses the rest of her tumbler back.

"Although, I must say, I've never gone head to head with your mother. I have my doubts she could out-drink me," Juliana says. It's part bravo, but not all. She slips down next to Phillip.

Patrice laughs again, but not unkindly. "Mother can outdrink me."

Juliana smiles at Phillip. "What do you think darling? Any chance I could out-drink your mother?"

"There is no answer i could give that would not cause me future grief," Phillip says.

"Drink some more, and try again, dear," Juliana encourages.

Phillip sips his drink 'I stand by my right as nobility to refuse to say anything that might lead to my endangering myself."

"Mother can outdrink him, too," Patrice adds. She seems more amused than insulted.

Phillip attempts to look vaguely put out by all of this.

"I know that," Juliana laughs. "And darling, I had no idea as nobility we had the right to refuse to say anything that might lead to danger to oneself. Someone should have told me this earlier." She sips. "You too have been scratching each other. You should make him pay for that blouse, Patrice."

"Oh, I've been paying, I assure you," Phillip replies "and clearly I was wrong about the other as I am clearly in danger anyway."

"Clearly," Juliana teases, smiling.

"The sleeve was my fault, anyway," Patrice says. "I should know when to leave well enough alone, but I so rarely do."

"Do it symetrically and it will start a new fashion. The slashing, I mean. Leaving well enough alone is for the weak," Juliana states, and sips.

"Slashed sleeves are like codpieces. They look better on men," Patrice opines.

"Unlike slashed codpieces," Juliana notes, and snuggles in a little closer to Phillip. "This is nice. Much better than trying to teach three tireless boys the difference between an A and an O."

"You should try fencing with a tireless boy instead," Patrice says, and sticks out her tongue at her brother.

"Tireless boy, did you find out about the slave ring that may or may not exist for me?" Juliana asks.

Phillip frowns. "It is being investigated."

Patrice sat back to listen to Phillip and Juliana, although she has nothing to add at the moment.

Juliana is watching Phillip, and she looks concerned, probably not just about slavers. She leans over and kisses the side of that frowning mouth. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that, love, and your laugh lines are so much more appealing. Did you hear Phoebe Frewin is in town, sweetling? She may want to =thank= you for letting her ride White Knight," she teases.

Phillip chuckles. "Perhaps I should send Patrice so I will be safe."

"Oh, Patrice, you will *love* her mother!" Juliana says in complete sarcasm. "If Phoebe exhibits signs of perfection with occassional moments of utterly devastating imperfection - otherwise known as showing her brain, we can blame the mother. Cold, that woman is, cold."

"This is the girl you mentioned earlier, Phillip?" Patrice asks.

"Indeed, she is the very one."

"You knew already! I can never get the up on you," Juliana sighs with exaggerated drama.

"You did make her mother sound quite the harridan." Patrice says to her brother with a wicked grin. She turns her attention to Juliana. "If I'm to call on them and welcome them to Amber for Phillip, shall I have the girl and her mother to your soiree, Juliana?"

"You may as well, it will save you the trouble of dogding the mother's attempts to get an invitation. Phoebe is pleasant enough anyway, or was. It's not her fault," Juliana says, although the idea of having the 'widow' Frewin in her home pretending to mourn her dead husband gives her a rather unpleasant feeling in her stomach.

"It wouldn't be horrible for Lady Phoebe to meet some of the young gentlemen we're associated with," Juliana notes, and Phillip will see that look creeping into her eyes she gets when she talks about Elyssa and whomever might be perfect for her this week.

"I can think of some people it might be good for her to meet, too," Patrice says, with a considering look of her own. Phillip has an idea of what Patrice thinks might be appropriate for young girls and it probably doesn't all agree with Juliana's Ideas.

"Anything we can do to get her some time out on her own away from her mother," Juliana says. She scrunches up her nose and then washes Lady Frewin away with a sip of her drink.

"So, what else did you learn today, darlings?" Juliana asks the both of them.

"That Phillip is still a better fencer than I am, and that he makes neat stitches, and that his taste in whiskey is still excellent," Patrice says, raising her glass with the last and taking another sip of her own beverage.

"It needed stitches! Phillip!" Juliana reprimands, before she softens with, "Neat stitches, love? And here I thought I was the seamstress in the family."

Phillip sighs and looks to Patrice for help.

"It's not his fault," Patrice interjects. "It was mine. I was careless." She gives Phillip a fond smile.

Juliana looks at Patrice like she finds something about that hard to believe, but she shrugs. "I'd end up giving myself stitches too," she notes.

"Sometimes that happens when you command a blade that's too good for you," Patrice observes.

Phillip can tell she thinks the whole thing is a joke, rather like the scrapes they used to get in as children. She has progressed right through the part where she resents being the butt of the joke and into the jolly good humor, in part because of the alcoholic lubrication.

"I should go check on my correspondance. I'll see you later?" Juliana asks Phillip.

"But of course, love."

-- Main.LizTrumitch - 07 Dec 2004