Julian didn't care for horses. Having lost the proper use of his leg in a riding accident, the beasts made him uneasy. For most of his life, he'd evaded this problem by simply staying in one place, indoors, away from stables, for extended periods of time. But now that he had returned to Thiasa, his father Lord Cullen Newbury was insisting that Julian, as the new heir to the Newbury fiefdom, travel Thiasa. The intention was for him to meet people, build alliances, weave himself into politics, and prepare himself for eventually being the reigning Lord of Newbury.

The result, however, was an extremely uncomfortable Lord Julian nearly falling out the saddle in his hurry to dismount the moment he and Wilmot had ridden in through the gates of Lawley fief.

"The manor's a few minutes' walk still, M'lord," his manservant Wilmot informed him dryly.

"Then we'll walk. I need to stretch my legs." Julian reached up and pulled his cane out of the saddlebag, leaning on it heavily as he limped down the road towards the abode of the Lawley family.

Wilmot snorted. "I'll see to the horses then, M'lord?"

"Yes, Wilmot, that will be fine, thank you." Most nobles would strike a servant for that tone of voice, but Wilmot has all but raised Julian, and his long years of service had earned him certain privileges when it came to speaking his mind. Julian ignored his manservant's mutterings as he made his way down the road, cane clacking against the cobbles with each slightly-lurching step.

It took him several minutes to reach the heavy wooden doors of his hosts, and by then the muscles in his leg were aching and twinging painfully. Fixing his face in a grimace, he lifted the iron knocker and let it drop once... twice... thrice...

Elena was sweeping past the door on the way to her library, chatting eagerly with Aelf about the newest development in the Canterbury Tales and letting her free hand stroke over the handle of the dagger. She wasn't three steps away when the great knocked boomed into the entrance hall, making everybody jump. The lady and her guard stared at each other as the knocker sounded again, then once more...but Elena shrugged and moved forward to get it. It probably wasn't anyone important, to come so unannounced.

Or else there was a dire emergency somewhere and it was a matter of life and death.

The person standing on the doorstep seemed to point to the former theory, however. Elena's brow furrowed slightly to see a young man standing on the steps. A young man with a cane, wearing well-made but at the same time very dull clothing. Aelf come up behind her as she stared for a moment, and then seemed to come to the same conclusion she did as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Elena gave their beggar guest a slight curtsy, however, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Welcome to Lawley, friend. May I help you in some way?"

Aelf cut in. "The kitchens are in the back."

The door swung open to reveal a slip of a young woman, pale and dark-haired, with wide, critical eyes. She looked him up and down, curtsied lightly, and brushed an ebon lock away from her smooth white visage. "Welcome to Lawley, friend. May I help you in some way?"

The man behind her interjected with considerably less politesse:"The kitchens are in the back."

Julian opened his mouth and closed it again. His cheeks grew pink as he realized how he must appear. He'd arrived on foot with no luggage, no entourage, and no ceremony. His clothes and possessions did not speak of nobility, and even the servant was giving him a dirty look. It was hardly a favorable first impression.

He pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin, putting on his 'noble' voice, or his best attempt at it: "My name is Lord Julian Newbury, son and representative of Lord Cullen Newbury." He ruined the dignified effect by adding somewhat tentatively, "I was told that I would be expected?" It was looking as if this was not in fact the case.

There was a moment of silence, but Elena had been too well trained to let herself blush. She looked at the young man waiting at her door with a vague sense of impending doom; the brief fright in her eyes quickly hidden as she spread out her skirts and sank into the type of curtsy befitting a lord of his rank. This, then, was to be her first suitor-and thinking of the vast Newbury estate, she had to admit that he would probably also be her last. "Lord Newbury. Welcome."

By the time she had lifted her head, any emotion that might have shown had been smoothed away into nothingness. Even if she hated him, it wouldn't do to let him see her heart sinking into her slippers. "You probably are expected; but my mother and brother are not in the habit of telling me things these days...or else I was too absorbed in Chaucer to heed the warning. I'm sorry you were unfortunate enough to have me open the door."

There, let him know that she was a reader. Maybe that would put him off the scent. Elena stepped aside to let him in, and flashed him a quick and perfectly cool smile. "Please, my lord. Come inside. We can sit for a minute or two until my Lord brother or mother might be found...." She reached out and took a servant by the arm, issuing her order with practiced ease. "Nell, do seek out the Lady and Lord of this place. We will be waiting in the solar. Thank you. James, some tea and refreshment, if you will?...Very good."

The young Lawley gave him another quick smile and turned to glide down the hallway, Aelf following behind as smoothly as a shadow with his hand still on his sword. It was not unheard of for a girl to be forced into marriage, and he had not plans of relaxing his guard on Elena. Aelf noticed his young mistress slowing her pace so the crippled suitor could keep up, and had to admire her kindness when he knew as well as she that she was not eager to be wooed and wed. The Celt wondered briefly if she was regretting wearing a flattering gown that day, and one look at the careful blankness of her face told him that the answer was yes.

He didn't have more time to wonder. They were in the solar in a matter of minutes, and Elena wordlessly gestured down to the couch, inviting their guest to sit in the manner of a practiced lady. She sat soon after him, and folded her hands over her knees. "I am glad to welcome the Newburys to our estate today. They always were good friends of my father....but I'm sure it was a tiring journey. You must not be in much mood for conversation."

She knew she was being at least a little bit rude, but she couldn't help it. He had shocked her so, and she was already imagining life married to this beggar lord. No dancing. No riding. No hunting. It was vulgar for a woman to do such things alone or in the company of other men, and she highly doubted that his withered leg would allow him to join in. Also, she was terrified and found it harder to speak with every passing moment.

As the young woman who'd answered the door began issuing orders and made mention of her mother and brother, it occurred to Julian that this must be Lady Elena. Her mother and brother had both acquired enough of a court reputation that even Julian knew the names, but Elena was something of a mystery. An appealing mystery, though... he couldn't help but notice the way the folds of her dress fell around her figure as she walked ahead of him.

He was not entirely sure of his father's reasons for sending him here, but their last meeting had left him with an inkling. Lord Cullen had insisted that Julian visit some of the neighboring fiefdoms as well as Thiasa Keep to establish 'political relationships' and 'diplomatic alliances.' Then, in nearby the same breath, his father had remarked that wasn't it about time Julian find himself a wife? By the age Julian was at now, Lord Cullen had already sired a son with another on the way. With his free hand, Julian reached inside his doublet to nervously finger the letter his father had entrusted to him. It was addressed to Lady Katherine Lawley, and Julian had refrained from opening it on the road, despite several of Wilmot's pointed comments. Now, however, its unknown contents filled him with mild unease.

Lady Elena escorted him into the solar, where he sat down gratefully, tentatively stretching his bad leg as he propped his cane up against a small table. She sat down as well, moving with swan-like grace, her movements fluid and gentle where Julian's were abrupt and uneven. "I am glad to welcome the Newburys to our estate today. They always were good friends of my father....but I'm sure it was a tiring journey. You must not be in much mood for conversation."

He hesitated. It had been tiring, and he was more in the mood for a bath and a long nap than a conversation with strangers, but he couldn't afford to let his own weakness put a blemish on the appearance of the Newbury family. He forced a smile. "Nonsense. After riding for hours with only Wilmot for company, I could do with a bit of conversation!" And something to drink. He was thirsty, and he was nervous, both of which made his mouth dry. Now he had to think of something intelligent and noble-like to say. Anything to say! If only they could talk about ancient languages of histories, or books...

It was then that he recalled something she had said upon his arrival – "I'm sorry, did you say you were reading Chaucer?" He gave her a critical look. "As in, the latest installment of the Canterbury Tales?"

Lady Katherine Lawley had just changed into her afternoon dress, a long, emerald one wioth a tight bodice, and the skirt falling elegantly around her legs. She was well-aware that most of the Ladies did not take such special care to appear beautiful at home, but Katherine had learned that constant vigillance was a very useful trait. Who knew when an uninvited guest could have come by? She wouldn't have wanted him to find her in rags then. Lady Lawley had even decorated her ears with a pair of light-red earrings, and around her long neck she placed a necklace of the same color. She had done all of this with the help of two maids, of course, and they had just finished placing her hair into a sophisticated hairstyle; a long braid hanging over her right shoulder; when there was a knock on the door.

The maids did not stop with their work, since it was the Lady's prerogative to allow or refuse entrance into her room. Katherine wondered who it was. Perhaps Elena, coming to ask her to punish one of the serfs less severly for something they had done? The girl was really too soft with the servants. Maybe it was Darien....No. It wasn't Darien. He rarely had a reason to visit her.

"Enter." She called, knowing that if she saw the reflection of her son in the mirror, it would've meant a great tragedy had most likely happened. However, it obviously hadn't, for the door opened only to reveal Lionela, the head maid. Elena insisted on calling her Nell, out of affection, but Katherine felt no affection for any of the servants or the serfs. Her father had taught her it was unwise(and distasteful) to attach oneselves to those serving under them.

The maid carried a very timid look, afraid of her mistress, as always. Now she had an extremely valid reason, too, since Katherine had severely reprimanded her for the dust she'd encountered in the library. The only reason Lionela hadn't been fired was the fact that 'Lady Elena had ord'red 'er that it was unnecess'ry.' She had gotten out with a punishment of only slightly reduced rations for her family, and a warning to enhance her speech. As for Elena, Katherine was yet to deal with her. For some reaosn, she enjoyed telling Elena off, being strict with her and punishing her. Her daughter, too, carried the burden of Darien's misdeed.

"What is it, Lionela?" Katherine spoke, watching the maid sink into a deep curtsey, not even moving her head.

"I am sorry to disturb you, my Lady." Lionela used effort to speak properly, and Katherine was both amused and pleased, "But a certain Lord Julian Newbury has arrived...and Lady Elena sent me to find you."

Newbury? The son of Cullen Newbury? Katherine remained sitting on the vanity table, gently and calmly, of course. Nobody was worthy enough for Lady Katherine Lawley to excite herself because of their visit. And she was not excited because of Lord Newbury's visit. What unnerved he was that Elena was alone with him in the parlor.

She had told her daughter how to cunduct herself when in company of potential husbands and suitors for numerous times. However, in her opinion(that title made it a fact to her right away) she was terrible with leaving first impressions. If Katherine did not come down soon enough, she might've as well ruined the entire possiblity.

None of this had been displayed, though. As far as Lionela and the other maids were concerned, Katherine was perfectly at ease.

"Very well. You may inform them that I shall descend in a few moments." Anything sooner than at least ten minutes would have been suspicious and revealed her feelings.

"Yes, My Lady." Lionela curtsied and disappeared. With a tilt of her head, Katherine dismissed the other two maids.

Once they were gone, she focused on the time. Ten minutes elapsed soon, and she hoped that, for her own sake, Elena was not conducting herself foolishly with Lord Newbury. The sooner she married of her daughter, the better, and to an influential man, of course. Anything esle would have been beneath the Lawleys and would've degraded them.

Finally, she pushed away from the vanity table, heading downstairs slowly, elegantly. The sound of a conversation was coming from the parlor, and she did feel a tad more relieved. It seemed as if Elena was managing somehow. Katherine still sincerely doubted she was acting perfectly.

It turned out she had been right, for when she stepped over the parlour door, she managed to catch the last line Lord Julian had uttered; "I'm sorry, did you say you were reading Chaucer? As in, the latest installment of the Canterbury Tales?"

Katherine would have most eagerly slapped her daughter over her bigh mouth at this very moment. She had told him she'd been reading Chaucer? That she was a reader? The cricticism in his voice had not escaped her. What an idiot her daughter was! Darien at least wasn't dumb...to that extent. Katherine allowed her anger and reprecussion to make an appearance in her eyes, which shot Elena strictly, as she herself made an appearance before Lord Newbury. Silently, she swore to make Elena pay for what had to be a deliberate attempt to push off a potential suitor(unless her child really was a nitwit).

"Lord Newbury." She extended her hand, witha formally polite smile, "Lady Katherine Lawley. Allow me to welcome you to the Lawley Fiefdom, and the Lawley Castle."

Then she produced a brief, sharp nod at Elena; "Elena."

The moment Elena was seated, she lowered her eyes demurely to her hands. This wasn't prompted by maidenly modesty but rather a desire to keep herself from staring at Julian. It wasn't his leg itself; but the sharpness of his movements was so utterly disconcerting that she felt she ought to keep an eye on him. Still, manners prevented this, and the girl had to trust Aelf with protecting her from a hidden dagger.

Elena was a little bitter about that. She, a maiden, might not stare at a man who was alarming her, yet she could feel his eyes tracing her body in appreciation. It was only a matter of time before he saw her nakedness, her wealth, and the children she would bear every time he looked at her.

Aelf moved forward in alarm when his charge made a faint choking sound, but paused to note that she was breathing. The Celt stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, striving to comfort even as the noose was tightened. She was tense as a strung bow beneath his hands.

The Lady Lawley forced a laugh after Julian's jok about travel, and it was altogether too bright. Elena was given a chance to redeem herself with the arrival of tea, and did so with an apologetic smile. "Oh, my lord, forgive me if I force a silence on you for a minute. But I insist that guests here are watered and refreshed, and honorable ones doubly so. Allow me."

Perhaps it was foolish of her, but she had to know. Having no hint at his thoughts was driving her mad. Elena poured his tea prettily, allowing a glimpse of wrist as she offered him his cup. The young woman let her fingers brush his, just once, and trusted Aelf to marke the lord's reaction as she busied herself with her own cup.

It was halfway to her lips when Newbury recalled her mention of Chaucer, and there was a moment of surging relief-quickly cut short when her mother entered the room. There was no mistaking the fury in Lady Katherine's eyes, but Elena had a will of her own and saw no need to please a mother who didn't care if she lived or died. There would be punishment, later, but for the time being she would have her own way. "Mother."

Elena rose to greet her mother with a curtsy, but sat right back down and leaned forward to look Julian in the eyes. Unknown to her, the position was giving him a glimpse of some very attractive cleavage-but she was so fixed on ridding herself of this unwanted suitor, the thought never occured.

"Yes, my Lord. The Canterbury Tales." Let them both be horrified. "I was given them as a gift, and I have been lost ever since. I know they are unladylike, and vulgar, but I admit that I adore them. Chaucer shows life as it really occurs, and people as they really are, and I am the sort to think that a lady must know her people; everyone from serf to wedded lord. I value reality."

Katherine would kill her for this. But she was not yet ready to be caged inside a man's arms.

Julian was very grateful for the tea, so fixed on his thirst he failed to notice Lady Elena's hand brushing against his as she handed him the cup. He gulped a mouthful down so quickly it nearly scalded his throat, and he coughed lightly. His question about Chaucer had barely left his mouth when the door creaked open and the Lady of the House swept in, a vision in green.

Lady Elena was pretty, there was no doubt. But Lady Katherine was the sort to make jaws drop open. Her appearance was impeccable, and no doubt meticulously maintained by an entourage of servants. There was something to her features and comportment that recalled to Julian the friezes of ancient goddesses in the halls of Roma.

Half a second passed before he remembered himself amid the mother-daughter tension. He'd spent hours practicing the bow in front of his sister Isobel's mirror, and the repetition proved worthwhile – he was able to stand and bow, his weight carefully placed on his good leg, and brush his lips against the Lady Lawley's hand in what almost passed as a graceful motion. "M'lady," he began, straightening up. "My father sends his warm regards, as well as this–" he withdrew the letter from within his doublet and handed it to her, cringing inwardly at it slightly crumpled state. Elena stood and curtsied, and then they all sat down once more, although Julian could almost swear the room had grown colder since he'd entered. He caught a glimpse of Lady Katherine's look of distaste and prayed that it wasn't directed towards him.

It was then that Elena leaned forward, looking him directly in the eyes for what he realized was the first time since they'd met. He listened to her defensive tirade of the Canterbury Tales, and found his heart swelling the elation. His critical tone earlier had not been due to distaste or disgust, but a result of sheer disbelief towards a prospect too good to be true. Here was a lady who loved books. A lady he could talk to!

It was as if a dam had been breached. The quiet, awkward side of Julian that had to wear a courtly mask in order to carry a simple conversation vanished. In its stead came the scholarly Julian, whose love of words burned like a beacon: "Oh! I agree entirely!" He continued, oblivious to both Elena's bosom and Katherine's increasing expression of horror. "The man's brilliant! I find he's largely underrated for not writing in the Latin, but his use of vernacular Scalian is simply revolutionary. Not to mention his satire – I find his tale of Sir Topas most entertaining, though I must admit that the Franklin's Tale remains my favorite." His eyes were alight. If Wilmot had been present he'd have stomped on his master's foot to make Julian remember himself, but there was nothing here to check him now. "I don't suppose you've read the Decameron? They say it's once of Chaucer's primary influences. I had a chance to get my hands on a copy when I was studying in Roma this past year."

Katherine took the letter Lord Julian had produced, and it had not gone unnoticed by her that it was not in the perfect state. Upon giving him a better look, she noticed that Lord Julian was not in the best of states himself, really.

Undoubtedly, a good part in that had played the long jounrey he'd been through to reach the Lawley Fiefdom. It was only natural that he would have been exhausted and tired after such a long time of horse-travelling, no matter how good of a rider he was. She, herself, had never travelled tremendously far in such a way(ladies drove in carriages), but she had ridden for recreational purposes, and she was well aware of the tire, just as the thrill it brought. Nobody could've truly, completey avoided it.

However, she had seen and known men who were capable of riding much longer without showing any signs that it had affected them. Even if she would've known how they were feeling in reality, she would not have minded it one tiniest bit. Some people just failed to understand it was all about impressions. Her father had been one of the men who understood. Elliott, too. And, she remembered with a pang to her heart intermingling with pride, Darien.

Elena must have gotten her untactfulness from someone further away in the Lawley family. Elliott's father, she believed, had possessed such a faint sense for subtlety and discretion. That was why her father had managed to manipulate him and have his son marry Katherine. Even if he had known the importance of impressions, Elliott had simply not been as sharp as to always leave them on right people. He did not like moving in social circles, and preferred focusing on his work and reading. Just like Elena.

Only that he'd had every right to mention such a thing, unlike his daughter.

When Elena went on with her stories about Chaucer, her thoughts on it, how she had enjoyed it...Katherine, honestly, believed that the girl had gone out of her mind. Oh, no, she had not GONE anywhere...Elena had never been in her right mind. She was deliberately trying to get Lord Julian as far away from her as possible, that much was clear. And it was not the worst part of it. That title was claimed by the fact Elena had disobeyed the order she had seen in Katherine's eyes; the order for silence. She had seen it, Katherine could have told.

Punishment was imminent, as soon as Lord Julian withdrew. Casting another sharp glance at her stupid child, letting her in on that information, Katherine was about to change the stream of this conversation by inquiring about Lord Cullen's health, when the Lord sounded.

Lady Lawley could have hidden her horror easily, had she wanted to. But when Lord Julian began an even more detailed interpretation of Chaucer, the elation unmistakably present in his voice, she allowed her elegant eyebrows to form an arch over her eyes.

Her fingers suddenly began to itch to tear that letter open right away. She needed some reassurance that Cullen had actually sent her his son. That this actually WAS his son. It had to be, for she'd seen the resemblance, but his behavior most certainly did not remind of Cullen.

Julian was not her kind of man, obviously.

He was not overly elegant, and moved rather ungracefully(even though his bow had been passable). He supported her daughter's love of Chaucer. Impressions did not seem overly important to him.

Had he been a woman she'd been asked to evluate for Darien, she would have turned him(or in that case, it would've been her) away immediately, even now, after the episode with Dylan. But this was Elena's suitor. A man who owned(or was to own soon) a highly developed and rich fiefdom. It really mattered not to her what kind of man her daughter was stuck with, as long as he was rich, influential and wanted her. The chances of Elena grabbing another man was highly impossible, unless she chose to give up silly things such as Chaucer, so Lord Julian was a golden opportunity.

She swallowed down all the venomous comment she could have offered, sat down slowly, and waited for Julian to finish before asking a question; "You have been to Roma?"

Also, being one of those people who knew how to exit every situation as a victor, or at least deceive people to believe they had, Katherine cast a victorious smile at her daughter, a response to the latter's failure to decrease Julian's interest in her.

Elena could have reeled with shock when the shabby Lord practically burst into songs of praise for Chaucer, but she would not let her terror show with Katherine around. He had read Chaucer; he knew it better than she did. He had been to Roma. And he looked absolutely thrilled that she enjoyed her books. Elliot's daughter felt her heart plummet at the wickedly triumphant smile her mother had given her, and all at once felt very much alone. Alone, unloved, and weary...so unbelievably weary. Even if Katherine had come out the victor, it would mean vicious slaps for her insolence-at the very, very least. At least Aelf was there. His hands on her shoulders were the only things keeping her sane right then.

"T-the Decameron?" She stammered a moment, lost in his rapid conversation, then quickly recovered herself. "I don't believe I have; I only just started Chaucer a week or two ago and I know little about his sources of inspiration..."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He liked books and he would let her read. That was something. And he didn't seem the type of man to beat, either. And he had been to Roma. Maybe he would take her there after they wed. Maybe she could forget herself in the ancient city, and laugh at her mother, trapped far away with hundreds of people who couldn't stand the sight of her. Elena's hands tightened in her skirts, and she fought the sudden longing to get away. Anywhere. Anywhere out of Katherine's clutches. If only this would end soon! One way or another, waiting would drive her mad. If she was to be married, she would have the news and have done with it instead of driving herself to distraction.

"I confess, my lord, I have always wished to see Roma. You are fortunate to have been. I think it would be wonderful to go where stories happened. Greece, with all the old gods and the Illiad and Odyssey and Antigone....Daneland, to think of Beowulf..." She spoke her favorite tale with the appropriate reverence, but quickly calmed. It was hard to feel joy about anything with Katherine around, and even harder when she remembered what a lonely life she had in store if she married this Julian. He would barely even see her. "Forgive me, lord. I am not as well-versed in literature as I'd like to be. I enjoy it, very much, but I find that I enjoy so many other things I have difficulty dedicating myself."

She gave him a weak smile. "Still, I am glad to have found a friend of Chaucer."

He might not have been the most observant man in the world, but even Julian proved incapable of missing the glances exchanged between mother and daughter. Clearly, there was a story there, the details of which he remained unprivy to. He shifted his weight uneasily as his gracious hostess looked daggers at her daughter, and the Celt standing behind Elena glared at Julian while protectively clinging to his mistress's shoulders. He found himself wishing Wilmot had come with him instead of stabling the horses. He could do with the old servant there to back him up, throwing hard looks around with the best of them.

Julian smiled kindly at Elena as she replied meekly. There was a rather frightened timidness in her demeanor that echoed in his own soul. Lord Cullen could do and say whatever he pleased, but the fact remained that Julian was not the stuff out of which politicians were made, but rather scholars and poets. "You ought not sell yourself short, m'lady. Literacy is a frighteningly rare commodity, and few that possess it actually know its value. To be as well-read as you are is admirable!" He meant to be comforting. She looked as anxious as he felt, but his words did not appear to have any ameliorating effect. He tried a different tact, turning to answer Lady Katherine...

"I've spent the last five years abroad, as it happens, both visiting various regions of Scalia, and most recently, spending two years in Roma. I was making plans for a journey to Damask in Arabia this past winter when I received a missive from my father requesting my return, which naturally terminated my further travel plans."

Darien had been making himself busy with the paperwork of the Fiefdom since he had arrived back from Thiasa. That, and drinking himself to a slight frenzy.

Darien was in his study when he heard the knocking of the door. Darien cringed at the sound as it seemed to pound into his skull. Darien was about to send Albert to answer the door when he heard the door open and shut, along with murmured voices heading toward one of the sitting rooms.

Darien found himself becoming distracted as he looked over the financial records for Lawley by a male voice along with two women that could only be his mother and sister. Darien looked at Albert, who stood across the room from him. A silent gesture to instruct Albert to check on things.

Albert understood and left the room to go into the sitting room to check on things. The room was an open entrance and Albert would be able to simply walk by and inspect the situation without casting too much attention.

As Albert walked by the room, several things became painfully clear. One, Katherine Lawley was casting a look of loathing to Elena, a look of scrutiny over a young man who seemed vaguely familiar to Albert; two, Elena looked somewhat confused as if she did not know whether to run from this man or run to him from Katherine; and three, the young man obviously was a suitor from all of the looks on everyone's faces. Darien would certainly wish to know about this, and though it would be painful to endure, Albert had his obligations.

Albert returned to Darien's study and told him what he had seen and his suspicions. Darien grinned.

"Did my mother really thing she could sneak a suitor for my sister in this house without my knowledge? Indeed, this will make for a welcome distraction," Darien said as he stood from his desk, checking himself in the mirror for his appearance (which was not bad), and headed to the room where his sister, mother, and possibly his sister's future husband.

As Darien came into the room with very loud footsteps to announce his presence, he smirked at the attention he got. He took a close look at the gentleman, noticing the cane. The man was familiar, it had been such a long time but Darien knew he had seen him in court.

"Forgive my tardiness, I was unaware we had guests," Darien said as kissed his sister on the cheek, along with her mother. Darien headed to the large decanter of Brandy and filled the two empty sifters. He then took one over to his new male friend. "Trust me, you'll need this," Darien said under his breath, but clear enough for his sister and his mother to hear. When he said it, he winked at Elena and gestured toward their mother.

Julian's encouragement was disconcerting. It was very nice to have a man praise education who was not Father, but...she did not wish to marry. Elena's fingers tightened in her skirts, and she kept her gaze on her hands. It was almost worse because he was being so kind. Anyone could understand not wanting to wed a harsh and unfeeling lord, but no one would be able to appreciate her resentment of young and earnest Julian. It was even making her feel selfish.

Sternly Elena reminded herself that she didn't hate the man, and she had every right to dislike the thought of marriage, whomever the groom might be. It would have been easy to admire Julian as a friend. It was knowing every time she met his eyes that her fater was sealed-ah, that was the hard thing. That was the unbearable thing.

The feeling of helplessness was going to strangle her. The youngest Lawley rose, leaping far too quickly and violently to her feet. She was going to run. It would be the first time she had done so in her entire life, but what else was there to do? Sit there awaiting the slaughter?

Elena had only taken one step when the door opened to admit Darien. The girl froze a moment, then jerked into the automatic reaction of a curtsy even as he stepped forward to kiss her cheek. It wasn't too late to pass off her moment of panic as something as mundane as greeting a brother. "Ah, Lord Lawley. I thought I heard your footsteps. Darien, allow me to acquaint you with Lord Julian Newbury, Lord Cullen's heir. My lord guest, my brother Darien."

She smiled prettily and resumed her seat, doing her best to ignore the hot tears trembling behind her lashes and her brother's instant recourse to liqour. "Lord Julian was just telling us about Roma, brother. You missed it."

Well, her attempt to put off Newbury had backfired, and no mistake, but maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she could think of something else to do that wouldn't get her disowned-or else Katherine's coldness or Darien's violence would manage to drive him away.

That thought was almost as frightening as imagining marriage. In that moment Elena gained a new appreciation of the phrase "horns of a dilemma." On one hand, a kind but dreamy cripple who would likely leave her stranded in an unfamiliar world and her promise to her fiefdom unfulfilled; and in the other-familiarty, some degree of power, and Katherine and Darien...forever present to torment her. Neither seemed especially appealing.

Elena sipped her tea with shaking fingers. If only Father were here! If only she could speak to Julian alone! If only she could know exactly what she was in for...she cast a longing glance over to Katherine's letter and sighed. Cold as her mother was, she was too superficially well-mannered to open it in public. There would be no knowing its contents until Katherine chose to reveal them, if ever.

One more glance at Lady Lawley was enough to speed Elena to a decision. As miserable as wedding this Julian might be, it was her chance. Her only chance to leave mother and brother and certainly her only chance to rise above them. Perhaps time spent as the co-ruler of a very grand fiefdom would help soothe the knowledge that her only option was to throw herself upon the mercy of a man. Perhaps the crippled scholar would let her be something a little more than ordinary.

Elena caught her breath and looked back to Julian, wondering the best way to cinch the noose closed around her own neck. She could pretend infatuation, but-that was so...low, and unconvincing. She could make him want her more by playing coy, but she doubted he knew how that game worked. It was a shame. Her first season out and she'd barely had two weeks to play with the men. The sheer waste of it was truly depressing.

Ah, well. There was nothing for it. Elena smiled again and leaned over to place her hand over the young lord's, the very picture of a child forgetting herself in her enthusiasm. She knew already that he would forgive her boldness for the delight lighting her eyes. "You were to go to Arabia? Tell me, can you read the writing they use there? Father showed me a sample, once, and it was very beautiful to look at, but neither of us could read it. Come, it's in our library. I will be glad to show you, if you like. Father had many treasures."

Herself included, of course. Hopefully it would be enough to get him alone. If note, she would have to be perfectly despicable and slip into his room at night-woo him in the manner of Ruth. Either way, she had to choke to win.

Julian had heard rumors of the Lord Darien Lawley, many of them less than flattering. His father had often griped about the Lawley estate and their lavish spending, but then again, Lord Cullen's idea of extravagance was lighting a fire in the winter. At the moment though, Lord Darien could have been a mass-murdering heathen savage and Julian wouldn't have cared – he was simply grateful for the break in the tension his arrival and casual demeanor brought. He accepted the drink thankfully, although he had to sip at it gingerly, having a poor head for alcohol. At least someone in this bizarre encounter appeared to be on his side. Court life wouldn't all be like this, would it? He felt as if he was being weighed and measured, and found severely lacking in all areas, try as he might to please. "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, m'lord," he uttered, shaking Darien's hand with a pleasant and sincere smile. Then again, Julian had a very difficult time being insincere...

But becoming acquainted further with the Lord of Lawley fiefdom would have to be postponed, as Elena piped up again, leaned forward and placing one hand on his. Her eyes gleamed with what was probably excitement, but seemed reminiscent of some other emotion... desperation? He found himself missing Wilmot's insight. The old manservant could people like books, while Julian was stuck... well, reading books like books.

Julian flushed slightly at her mention of Arabia, though the brandy may have had a slight role to play in the color that touched his normally sallow cheeks. "Well, I'm still learning. I'm fluent in Scalian, Latin, and Greek, and fairly competent in Duainian, but I'm afraid my Arabic requires a bit more study, as does my comprehension of the Viking Rune system. It is a very aesthetic form of writing though, I must agree... the main problem is the variety of dialects..."

And then she dropped the equivalent of the apple of knowledge right in his lap. An invitation to their Library? His face lit up and he stood so quickly he almost knocked his cane over. "I'd love to see it! So few manuscripts find their way to this side of the Occida sea, they're extraordinarily difficult to come by–" he paused, recollecting himself and remembering his father's grumbled threats regarding what Julian's immediate future would include if he disgraced himself before the other noble families. He nodded to Katherine and Darien. "Er, provided you lordship and your ladyship have no objection. I would hate to insult your hospitality in any way."

Katherine had been listening to the answer of Lord Julian Newbury to her question, when a sudden sound; a shuffling of skirts and a hit of foot against the floor; caused her to shift her attention. The sight of Elena jumping to her feet fervolently, a look of panic nin her eyes, would have made her exclaim in anger had she not been as good at controlling her outer appearance and her reactions. At that point, she gave up all hope for her younger child. For a brief moment, she let her mind wonder what on Earth had Elliott done to her children that they had both turned out as badly. Maybe she should have taken on a better role in their upbringing. Not she, personally. She meant in the manner of supervising the governesses and not allowing Elliott to step near Darien and Elena. Not that she would have really cared for Elena as Elena...she minded the fact her daughter was embrassing the family. As for Darien...

But, at the time, Katherine had been too busy for thinking of her children. The best attention that any of them got from her would've been that one hour she would sometimes had spent with Darien. Lady Lawley had been too busy for inner family matters. She had taken upon herself the task fo ensuring the standing of the Lawley family in the Society. A task she had quite excelled at. Of course, there were also her...private matters. Katherine's lovers had required her attention, too. The marriage with Elliott had only been beneficial because of the money, the standing and the power. He had been in love with Katherine, all right, but she had never loved him. And she had hated his habit of preferring working in his office than visiting balls and parties.

Elena seemed to have inherited everything from her father. She had no talent at all when it came to seduction, she had barely acquired that grace that woment required, and she was obviously a full nitwit. There was no way of quite saving the situation now. However, Katherine had to attempt amending it. With another gentleman, it might not have worked without quite an amount of persuasion on her won part, but Cullen Newbury's son seemed to be all but like other gentlemen. Her eyes focusing on her daughter, she spoke as coldly as she could have; "Elena. What are you doing?" The tone of the voice, as if talking to a mere child, was hugely humiliating for Elena, especially the slightly bemused undertone she had added in.

Just then, Darien entered the parlor.

His timing could not have been more perfect, for he opened the door in the same moment as Lord Newbury's attention turned to Elena. Katherine observed the situation carefully, a part of her certain that Elena would not know how to use this rescuing turn of events. Her daughter was obviously an idiot with social graces....but only she could save herself now. Katherine could not and would not help her.

One of her eyebrows craned slightly as Elena managed to play her part.

Well, today was a day full of surprises. Both of her children had actually mananged to do something useful. So she chose to ignore the wink Darien had produced at Elena and the inclination he had made at her.

The conversation went on, Lord Julian telling them about the languages he spoke and plenty of things that presented little itnerest for Katherine. Elena had missed so many wonderful opportunities to actually ebgin seducing him. He did seem quite taken with her, but she had to assure him to look upon her as a woman eligible for marriage. He was not supposed to percieve her as a talking companion and nothing more.

She had believed that Elena had run out of her strange usefulness today, when suddenly she placed her hand upon that of Lord Newbury. Katherine stiffened. It was a bold move. One Katherine might have exercised with one of her lovers. Not in public, of course. How would the Lord react to it? Katherine doubted he would mind it much, since he did not seem the depicture of proper virtues himself. But he would mind it. Or at least notice how inapt it was. Elena might have made a good or a bad move. It was most certainly risky. Was she actually trying to prove that she was capable of handling the suitor herself? Well, it would take a lot more work for Katherine to believe THAT.

Which was exactly why she had not been pleased at all by Elena's invitation to see the library extended to Julian.

It was good for a lady and a gentleman that wished to be married to have some privacy. But not when the lady in question was Elena. Katherine could have already envisioned her doing everything in her powers to put off Julian, maybe subtly, maybe openly, who knew. Or perhaps she would try to attract him, and once again be unsuccesful.

But the stupid child had left Katherine in a position where she could not have helped her in any way. She could not have asked to accompany the two of them.

If only Elena had the talent for seducing men, not Darien. If she was half as good as he'd been on that field, Katherine noticed with sarcasm, she would have had nothing to worry about now.

"We would not object." She nodded at Julian, then her eyes slid over to Elena. The look within them clearly conveyed a message; 'There will be hell to pay if you screw this up'.

There, she could be alone with him now. Even though Katherine plainly disapproved, this victory on her part was enough to bolster Elena's courage...and even begin a slight sensation of triumph. It was plain that Katherine did not think highly of her daughter's abilities with a suitor, but what Lady Lawley didn't understand was how much Elena controlled that situation. She had loved the Court games and parties and balls as much as her mother; but as always Katherine only saw what she wanted to see, and Elena had not placed much importance on striving to change the woman's view. Katherine wouldn't care if she died, for heaven's sake...but she, the idiot daughter, would be the one wielding power. Perhaps proximity to Julian would give her the tools to find even stronger men to ally with.

But then she looked at the eager face of her suitor, and lost all heart. It would be too cruel to use him so coldly; even if she had little regard for him he was like a child. Eager and gentle and even sweet, if simple. That, then, was the key difference between mother and daughter. Katherine went where angels feared to tread, and for all her wishes and secret sins Elena had the heart to mind their warnings every now and again. This was one of those times.

She kept her face blank. Whatever Katherine thought, she was enough of a woman now to hide her feelings from all of them. It just took discipline. Discipline, and cleverness, and...

Elena rose and let her hands flutter down over her skirts, bowing her head demurely to mother, lord, and brother. "Thank you, my lady." She looked back at Julian, waiting with deliberately graceful posture for him to stand. She did not offer to help him. It might be an act of kindness but it might be equally insulting...she would just have to stand blankly for a moment and pretend that she didn't notice the sharpness of his motions. "Lord Newbury, if you will follow me....? "

He moved faster when he was eager. Elena made a mental note of that, then curtsied to her family and turned to lead him back down the hall. Of course there were stairs to manage...could he climb stairs?...She paused and turned her head back with a teasing smile. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's proper for a gentleman to offer the lady his arm. Forgive me if I didn't give you a chance; I barely had two weeks in Court and forgot myself. Here, though, tis easily remedied."

And simple as that, she'd slipped her hand onto his arm. "There are some stairs to manage, my lord. But I promise my father's library is worth the trek....and I am eager to hear your opinions on some of the manuscripts we have waiting."

Upon receiving her permission to depart from the room, Julian took Lady Katherine's hand, bowed, and brushed his lips against her knuckles in what was more or less the proper courtly fashion. "I thank you, my lady," he murmured, thankful he'd occasionally paid attention to his etiquette tutor instead of always reading the book he kept on his lap, hidden under the desk. Straightening, he nodded to Lord Darien, then followed Elena out into the hall.

Her hand came to rest upon his arm and, noticing the slender quality of her pale hands, he was thankful he'd actually scoured most of the ink from his fingers prior to his arrival. He turned to look at her. She was standing rather close now, close enough that he could see the color of her pale eyes and the long lashes that framed them. There was something very poetic about Elena, reminiscent of engravings of ancient heroines and pining star-struck lovers — a combination of the strong and the delicate, with a complexion the classical goddesses would envy.

"There are some stairs to manage, my lord. But I promise my father's library is worth the trek....and I am eager to hear your opinions on some of the manuscripts we have waiting."

"I'm brimming with anticipation," he replied genially, although her words elicited an inner pang of humiliation. Stairs. People saw the cane and immediately assumed he was a complete invalid – a coddled weakling, to be regarded as a decrepit old man or a sickly child. He'd have hardly been able to travel Scalia and Roma were that the case! Stairs, while not his favorite architectural feature, were hardly the desperate challenge some assumed they would be to him. When they came to a winding case of steps, he took the lead, eager to prove he was not as hopeless a cripple as many seemed to think.

Upon reaching the landing, he offered her his arm again. "I would strike up some conversation about the latest courtly gossip," he began as they continued down another hall, passing a maid who bobbed in a curtsy before scurrying on light a frightened mouse, "but I'm afraid I don't actually know any." He smiled apologetically at her, searching her face for some response. Having always been a mild disappointment, Julian rarely bothered to seek the approval of others — but for some reason, he felt compelled to win that of Lady Elena.

Darien was mildly entertained by the whole unfolding of events. The look on his mother's face for those brief moments of uncertainty were priceless. Granted, Darien was one of the few people who could notice them on his mother. After all, she had taught him many things about masking his emotions.

Darien looked Julian over and was somewhat confused. Katherine had arranged this little get together, but this young man seemed so naive when it came to the workings of the world. Though the scholar he may be, he still held the virtuous naivety that Elayne Argyle had. Darien chuckled at his comparison. I doubt that anyone would lust for this man, Darien thought with a cruel chuckle that he kept to himself.

As the two love birds left the room, it left mother and son alone. Darien could not contain himself any longer.

"Why mother, you seem somewhat distressed. It seems the slave owner you have summoned to relieve you of your daughter is anything but. I had no idea that Lord Newbury had such a...mild temperate son," said Darien, choosing his words carefully.

Darien knew his mother would do anything to keep the Lawley name strong, including sell her children to the highest bidder. Elena, unfortunately, would live the rest of her life either under Katherine's thumb or Darien's. The poor girl didn't stand a chance without a husband of her own.

"And here I thought you were primarily focused on getting me married, I think I might be a bit jealous of the attention you're giving to Elena," Darien said sarcastically as he poured himself another drink. He then looked at his mother, "Care for a drink? Looks like you could use one."

He had a dreamer's eyes. Elena studied the man walking beside her carefully under her lashes, noting down each and every detail that came to mind. Eyelashes as long as hers, eyes of a soft brown with an expression that could be kindly called 'distant', faint inkstains on his right hand-and the way he was looking at her, as if anxious to win her approval. The girl felt herself softening towards him, and smiled faintly in return to his apologetic statement about Court. "...That's all right. Neither do I, and at any rate I am not....keen on tonguelashing people who are having a hard time as it is. I do not care to know each knife twisting every heart."

That might not be strictly true, but on the whole Elena figured she was being honest. She did not take pleasure in gossip purely for the sake of gossiping, although it couldn't be denied that learning what was happening to other people was certainly a useful thing. At any rate, as nice as the sentiment was, she needed to find a different tack. Julian wished for her approval, and she was being too cold. Too much an attractive statue and too little of a person, and certainly too much of a person that probably did not seem eager to have his company. Well, she supposed that would be easy enough to remedy. He was a dreamer, and a good soul, and that was so simple to manipulate that it might possibly make her ill.

The young lady let her smile fade, and paused beside the window directly at the landing. It offered a maginificent view, and the perfect light to let her hair and skin shine, and a wonderful opportunity to pull herself together. Elena gazed out at her father's land, and paused a moment before making any effort to speak. She was careful to keep her voice soft. "I love this window. Father used to lift me up on his shoulders and let me look out; and he'd tell me stories-that little copse over there, you see? On different days it housed a fairy princess or a dragon's cave or a secret treasure, and then he would go out to do his work and come back with a little trinket to prove that he'd visited whatever lived there. "

Her story did not sound in any way false, mostly because it was true. Lord Elliot had doted on his daughter, and Elena felt that this stranger might be moved by finding a human being in Lady Katherine's house. She fell once more into silence, and stared out the window...and in exactly thirty seconds, sniffed and lifted one hand to her eye. It hadn't been hard to force the tears. They were already waiting. "Forgive me, my lord. It's not you. "

She wiped more hastily at her eyes, and turned to Julian with a smile that could only be described the expression of a martyr. This was simpler than she had expected, and it was making her feel incredibly guilty. He was too kind for this. But, on the other hand-would it really be condemming him to a horrible fate, to have her as a wife? Despite herself she did have a good nature, and even if she never loved him she could at least like him for being what he was. "...Here, the library is right here..."

Elena led him, tugging him along as if it was urgent that he follow. She took a breath as soon as they were both inside and shut the doors behind them, letting her eyes adjust to the silence and stillness of her sanctuary. It was a beautiful room, incredibly private despite its size, and even more so with the double doors closed behind her. She hid her face in her arm and gulped in a few more breaths, letting herself calm her tears before she looked back up at the waiting lord and offered him the same, heartbreakingly brave smile. "You are welcome to touch anything in the room; Father would have liked you very much and so I give it to you. " She lifted a hand and held it to her breast, a casual pose but with any luck one that would clue him in to understanding that she was including herself in her welcome. "Please, just stay awhile. Katherine will punish me for telling you that I like to read and she can be..." Another pause. "...Vicious."

The girl stepped over to him and slipped her arm back into his, cuddling to his side as if asking his protection. "I'm sorry you had to meet her so soon. All things considered, you have not had a proper or pleasant welcome to my father's manor, and it is even worse that you are the kind of guest Father and I liked to have. It makes it a greater offense, I think...but as my apology, any one thing in here of your choosing is entirely yours. I reserve only my lord father's necklace, here." She touched the medallion around her neck, and gave him a smile that finally managed to be warm. Julian would probably choose a book. "Lord Elliot would have liked his treasures to find a home with a good person, and since I must leave I would like to have the best of them safe out of the clutches of mother and brother. They don't understand themselves."

Katherine could not have agreed more with what Darien was saying. When she had first contancted Lord Cullen Newbury about a possible alleigance between his son and her daughter, she had not had Lord Julian in mind at all. Lord Roger had been her prime target. She had observed him, and he was very simillar to his father, only with better upbringing. The perfect man for her daughter to marry. Elena's opinion of him would have hardly mattered. It was Katherine who was to make the choice.

However, fairly soon a response came from Lord Cullen; he and Roger had had an argument, and a serious one, which had resulted in Roger, to put it plainly, not being his heir anymore. Naturally, no matter how much she belived his personality would have been perfect for Elena, there was no way a Lawley was going to marry a man without title or land. Lord Cullen had, luckily, included that his other son, current heir Julian, would gladly visit Lady Elena.

It turned out it had been luck, for he was certainly the only man that had courted Elena who liked her idiotic activities.

Katherine accepted the drink Darien had given her, a slight smile curving the corners of her lips as he mentioned jealousy. If he only knew what he was saying, he would have laughed at himself. In spite of all he had done, he still held a higher place than Elena in her mind. She might have turned cold towards him, but she was icy towards Elena. Of course, that was nothing she intended to share with him. The silence ws a part of his punishment.

"Lord Julian is, perhaps, rather....plain by my standards, but I believe he is among the rare that would actually consider marrying Elena as a serious course of action."

She disregarded the part about finding Darien a wife. One reason-she wished not an idle chatter with him. Second-he was perfectly capable of doing so himself. Of course, he would have to introduce her to Katherine and gain her approval previously.

Darien grinned. His mother was trying to lessen the defeat that Elena was subjecting her to. It was quite enjoyable to watch. Darien took a seat in his father's chair and swirled the brandy that he had made for himself.

"So tell me, what does this Lord Julian Newbury have in ways of land and fortune? I was expecting Lord Roger Newbury to arrive, but not this little runt," Darien said as he took a drink.

Albert, who had walked into the room with Darien but had kept himself out of the way, cast a glance toward Katherine while Darien was distracted by his own drinking.

Darien finished his drink and looked back at his mother. "I'm thinking about inviting a woman here for the weekend. Someone I am considering for marriage. I was wondering if you would be so kind to play a gracious hostess. I have to leave for the Garrisons soon so there will definitely be some unfortunate time when I will not be here. Since Elena has her own nuptials to consider, I had hoped that you could take on your role as Lady of this house and be cordial to my guest," Darien said. He emphasized his possessive word to make it perfectly clear that Darien did have the power in this house. Despite his tolerance for his mother, and her own outside influence that Darien would someday discover to it's deepest depths, he still held her life in his hands.

"The runt is the heir to the Newbury Fiefdom." Katherine said flatly, sipping her drink, "Lord Roger no longer assumes that position." For a moment, she dwelled whether to explain further why, or to simply keep it at that. In the end, after the fraction of a second passed, she chose the latter. After all, Darien was interested in the affairs of the surrounding fiefdoms, he should rely on his own sources of information, and actually pay them attention instead of giving it to Elayne Argyle. Even though he had stopped embarassingly wining after her, Katherine now knew her assumption had been correct, at least partially.

She had assumed from his words that he would somehow destroy the Lady. That he would not simply leave it at that. It would have bothered her not; what demise could've possibly come from ruining such a worthless, stupid woman? None, especially not if Darien was the one ruining her. He ravished women all the time; one more or less would've hardly made a difference.

He truly had no intentions, as Albert had gracefully informed her, of leaving it at that. But his revenge would not be against Argyle, but against the King. Which was an entirely different thing. As she had pondered before, Kathrine had nothing against 100% well-planned treasonous affairs. But one coming from Darien, enticed by a woman's refusal and his own hot temper was bound to fail. Even if it was perfectly planned, the involvement of such emotions would've failed it in the end. Darien had never quite learned how to separate himself from emotions and keep a cool head.

And once Darien was executed, she and Elena would be bound to suffer as well. Using her connections and ties, she would be able to get them out of complete poverty, but their reputations wopuld never be as they had been before. That represented much more of a problem than Darien hanging from a rope.

When her emotions were dissected from her. As they always should be. That was their rightful place.

Just then, Albert entered, and their eyes met. In the same time, she listened do Darien mentioning a Lady who would visit the Lawley Fiefdom. A Lady he intended to marry? Darien? Already? Granted, men were known to marry earlier, but this was Darien. Completely unnoticably and subtly, she glanced at Albert, whose eyes gave her an affirmative answer.

Turning her head from the drink towards Darien, she asked, a hint of satisfaction in her voice; "Would I be correct to assume that Lady is Lady Niamh McNamara?" Her eyes fixed meaningfully onto his.

Julian watched Elena as they paused at the window, eyes flickering across her face as she spoke of her father. Julian had never met Lord Elliott, but his own father had spoken well of him in the past. Most of the stories Cullen had told his children had been re-hashings of old military campaigns, embellished upon to hold the interest of young minds. His mother – God rest her soul – had been more given to tales of wild fantasy, by comparison.

When tears welled up in Elena's eyes, Julian stared for a second, then retrieved the wrinkled handkerchief from his sleeve and offered it to her. She appeared... younger than she had a few moments ago. There was a loneliness present in her face he wished he could ease. Different as he and Lord Cullen were, Julian found himself thankful his father was alive and well, and still a force within his life. 'I'm sorry,' he wanted to say, but the phrase seemed to inadequate and insincere. Words, normally his allies, betrayed him, and he found himself standing dumbly until Elena forced a smile and led him onwards to the Library.

But when she opened the doors...

The library in Newbury fiefdom was a spartan, austere little room, not unlike the rest of the fief. Lord Cullen had made an effort to furnish it for the sake of having a library, and for the benefit of his more literate children. It contained a sampling of maps and histories of old wars and military accounts. But it was barely more than a closet with a few dusty scraps in it compared to the Lawley Library.

"It's beautiful," Julian whispered reverently, certain that every sound he made would echo through the shelves and up to the peak of the vaulted ceiling. He stepped forward to a table where assorted books lay open, and manuscripts sat partially unfurled. He let his fingers softly stroke an ancient leather binding and took in a deep breath, inhaling the musky sent of old paper...

"You are welcome to touch anything in the room; Father would have liked you very much and so I give it to you. "

"You are far too kind... simply standing here is a gift in and of itself," Julian replied, gently opening one of the old books. Il Principe, read the opening page. God in Heaven. An original printing.

"Please, just stay awhile. Katherine will punish me for telling you that I like to read and she can be...Vicious." There was a warmth beside his body, and then an arm slid into the crook of his elbow. He looked down into Elena's wide and shining eyes, and felt his heart skip a beat. "I'm sorry you had to meet her so soon. All things considered, you have not had a proper or pleasant welcome to my father's manor, and it is even worse that you are the kind of guest Father and I liked to have. It makes it a greater offense, I think...but as my apology, any one thing in here of your choosing is entirely yours. I reserve only my lord father's necklace, here." She fingered the medallion at her throat and Julian did his best not to look too closely, lest his eyes inadvertently stray a few inches lower into imprudent territory. Over the smell of parchment and old leather, he could smell her, and the perfume was an enticing one. "Lord Elliot would have liked his treasures to find a home with a good person, and since I must leave I would like to have the best of them safe out of the clutches of mother and brother. They don't understand themselves."

"I..." Julian's voice caught in his throat. "I thank you. Profusely. I..." He took a breath. "I wish I could have met your father. By all descriptions I have heard he sounds like a man many could aspire to emulate." Her proximity was... distracting. Part of him wanted to pull away and clear his head, but the other wanted to pull her close, comfort and protect her. A third part wanted to start rifling through the shelves immediately, but this portion of his mind which normally held the reigns was pulled down and choked into submission by the other two. It would be rude and boorish to start pillaging her family's Library like some brute from a conquering horde. And in any case – books, however archaic and cryptic, eventually revealed their secrets and made sense. Lady Elena (and the rest of the fairer sex along with her) remained an enigma he had yet to fully decipher.

Darien turned slowly to his mother, and gave a sideways glance to Albert. Darien simply smiled, "I am certain, that you will find this young woman delightful."

Darien stood and began to walk from the room. As he came to the door, he opened it and turned to Albert.

Albert had stayed in the shadow of the room, not wanting to be noticed, as was his purpose. However, for the first time, Albert saw a coldness in Darien that was not meant to cause annoyance, but fear. For a moment, when he looked into Darien's eyes, he saw Katherine Lawley staring back at him.

"I believe you have spent enough time with my mother, don't you agree," Darien asked as he gestured for Albert to walk out of the room before him.

So Albert had told Mother about Lady McNamara. Good, that will make it all the more intriguing when Elayne Argyle comes walking through the door.

He was warming to her. Lady Elena gave him a smile and waited quietly for him to look around, mulling over his words to her and patting her eyes lightly with his offered handkerchief. Julian might not be the most exciting stallion in the stable, but there was certainly a lot to be said for kindness. Kindness came from an ability to empathize with people, to feel pain that did not concern oneself, and a desire to ease that suffering whatever it took. It was not something to be thrown aside or forgotten. She could marry a kind man. Kindness meant that he would listen to her, and if he listened to her he would care that the fiefdom's servants had warm huts and blankets and plenty of food. He would care if his wife was lonely, or suffering-and he would love his children.

Elena winced a bit at the thought of children, mostly because in this case they would be hers, but she let out a slow breath. Even if she didn't want them yet, in a few years she might. Yet if that wasn't the case....there was still nothing that would incite her to wish her babies into a home like the one she'd grown up with. She wouldn't be like Katherine. It would be nice to know that the father wouldn't either.

It would also be nice to know that the father found her reasonably attractive. As Elena stilled she noted that Julian had his head bent almost imperceptibly to her hair, and was eyeing her throat with the timid reverence of someone not entirely familiar with women. She smiled, and turned in his arms, placed both hands on either side of his face to keep him still as she studied him.

"...You're sweet," was her final declaration, and Elena gifted him with another warm smile before she moved one hand to the back of his neck. "You do realize, my lord, that I gave you permission to touch anything in this library. That permission is not easy to earn. It takes a very...specific type of person to earn that. A good one. They are very hard to come by." And she kissed his cheek.

Her touch thrilled him – those cool, elegant fingers gently caressed his face with a tenderness that was foreign to him. She studied him with those long-lashed eyes, and he felt as if she could stare right through him and strip every scrap of knowledge from the walls of his mind.

"...You're sweet." The touch of he hand, now meandering to the nape of his neck, sent a shiver down his spine, while simultaneously making his face feel hot and flushed (though it remained customarily pallid to all appearances). It took him a moment to understand the ramifications of her offering, stunned that she was behaving so forwardly when he was barely more than a stranger... But then again, he had a poet's soul. What of love at first sight? Many of the world's first romances started with a mere glance that proceeded directly to certainty. They were kindred spirits in a manner, were they not? Perhaps it was not so unreasonable that she – a beautiful, tragic, raven-haired heroine would fall for –

The brush of her lips against his cheek derailed all thought. The breath caught in his throat. His already feeble knees grew weaker and he was forced to steady himself against the table.

There was a glance. There was certainty.

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to grasp her and sweep her off her feet in a passionate embrace, then flee with her into the sunset. To hold her close and run his fingers through those dark locks. To be the Tristan to her Isolde, the Roland to her Aude, the Mark Antony to her Cleopatra. To be truly, madly, and mindlessly in love...

... All of which made him hate himself for what he was going to have to do. And perhaps, more importantly, not do.

"No," he whispered, gently moving her hand away, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He took a deep breath, then proceeded. "If... I would not ask you to place so noble a reputation at risk. If rumors of impropriety were to spread, it would be your name that would suffer; not mine" It was an unjust truth and he knew it well. All the eyes that had turned away from his brother Roger's cavorting had come to rest of poor prudent Isobel, and now that she was of age, young Rachel. Walls had eyes and servants had loose tongues – he could not let Elena be subject to ill-deserved slanders. He might lack to strength to defend her from bandits and barbarian hordes, but words (and their paths of travel) were something he knew and could combat.

Still holding her hand, he gave it a small, reassuring squeeze, voice still residing just over a whisper. "... If I am to court you, then I intend to do so properly. And, if am so fortunate as to win your heart and hand..." he leaned his cane against the table and place his other hand over her pale fingers, "...then the victory will be all the sweeter for the waiting. With such respect, I intend to treat all Lord Elliot's treasures."

Lady Lawley bit back a gasp and lowered her head to stare at their joined hands. This was going farther than she had expected. It would have been one thing if he had actually succumbed to her invitation, but it was quite another for him to be gallant. She hadn't expected a refusal, particularly not one coupled with such a soft expression in his eyes. It was making her feel oddly guilty. For a moment a wish to justify herself made her bristle at his expressed desire to 'win' her, but only for a moment. Elena's conscience shoved aside thoughts of femine indignation and compensated for extra feelings of remorse by guiding her to her knees. The girl sank before him, hands still held in his. She wet her lips and ventured a response, feeling her way carefully.

"...I fear, my lord, that you are better than I am." She would warn him. It was only fair; Julian deserved some inkling that she was dreaming of blue eyes and golden hair and a smile that rivaled the sun. Elena smiled; a brief, nervous gesture that quickly vanished in the curtain of her hair. Yet she forced herself to lift her head and meet Newbury's admiring gaze, telling herself that it was just a well-deserved punishment. "You must know. Already you have won my regard- and, my lord, I must say that it is a very difficult thing to earn. In truth, I can count the recipients on one hand."

Elena paused to blow a drifting strand of hair out of her eyes. "My hand, as well, you might as well consider yours." She colored then, slightly, and finally had to look away. "It is not much in my power to decide, of course, but as things are you have...my consent. I feel that I am too young to be wed at all, but still-I know the sort of man Father would have chosen for me. An honorable one, with a gentle way about him, who would allow me my oddities and treasure me the more for them. My lord, you must be heaven-sent to find me. Truly, I think Father guided you here."

Blast it. The tears were coming again, and she hid her face in the back of his hand. Elena had to whisper now, for she was too overwhelmed to manage a normal speaking voice. "If you wish for my hand, I would be glad to grant it. But, my heart..." A sigh. "Lord Julian, my heart is so well-guarded that I fear it will be a long and painful battle for you. I like you. We would get along, I think...but if you wish for true and forever love, I have to send you on your way."

Elena slowly drew her hands out of his and shook her head. "I don't know if I am capable of it. I'm proud, and somewhat concieted, and often selfish and I-well, I hate being hurt." She smoothed a gentle kiss to his hand. "I also hate hurting everyone else, particularly the undeserving. Lord Julian, I feel...very strongly...that you might well earn a wife who would lay her life down at your feet. I also feel that you deserve such happiness. But."

Here she paused, and drew her lips away from his hand. It had probably been unfair to let them whisper against his skin, but just because she thought he deserved a chance didn't mean that this had to go all all his way."If you are still interested after knowing this, then it would be my highest honor to be courted by you, Julian Newbury."

Again she was being forward, but since it seemed to be working in her favor Elena saw no reason to stop.

Julian stood in mild horror as Elena sank to her knees before him, not sure what to do. Whatever reaction he may have expected, this wasn't it. A scoff, an embarrassed glance and change of subject, even indignant rejection – all these would have been easy to respond to. But Elena was proving herself to hardly be a predictable woman.

He listened to her litany, then, with slightly less grace that she had executed the movement with, knelt down on the floor across from her. He reached forward and gently brushed the curtain of hair away from her face, then grasped both her hands while looking her in the eyes. Those beautiful, shining eyes...

He sought for the right words, speaking slowly as he carefully selected each syllable. "You and I, m'Lady... we are both unfortunate in that we come from a class where love comes second to politics. We are both expected to wed as a matter of duty, for the good of our families and holdings..." of course, she knew all this, "but... if there is a chance for love to find a home in these alliances... then we can consider ourselves blessed. And if there is even a chance that I could, in time, find a way through the walls of your heart... then it is a battle I will gladly fight, for all my life if I must."

He forced a small smile. "To find myself in such a position where I could even have the option of courting you is a condition I have only dreamed of, whatever flaws you may think you possess. The Lord knows none of us is perfect or without sin. All we can hope for is to do the least harm we can in this world. And I know... I know I'm not my brother." He cast his eyes downward for a moment. "I know I am not the ideal husband – I am neither a warrior, nor a sportsman, nor a courtier of high standing. But... if you will have me, the honor will be mine,, and you can consider my heart already yours."

He looked her in the eyes, then, with a modicum of difficulty, stood, leaning on his cane, and offered her his hand.

The young woman wisely let him have his way with her, making no motion to stay the touches of his hands on her hair or fingers. She would have let him stroke face or throat if he'd had a mind to, but since Julian was evidently far too noble for such distractions she simply smiled to herself and placed her hand in his.

Elena rose with the well-schooled grace that had first captivated him, and gravitated to his side. She let their bodies touch, ever so slightly, and with no more than a quiet "You flatter me, Lord," led him to one of the various couches lining the library walls. What else could she say to such an elegant oration? It was slightly embarassing to have love proclaimed to her by a boy she'd met a grand total of twenty minutes ago. Whatever the stories said, Elena was beginning to be of the opinion that the women won by the ancient heroes on first glance were probably full and proper fools. (Except perhap Andromeda; she'd had perfect reason to like Perseus...)

She kept one of her hands in his, but reached out and removed a book with the other. Elena didn't notice or care what the title was; she had to do something to keep him amused until she could think of a proper response to the almost ridiculously romantic advances he was making. He was sweet, to be sure; and she was flattered; and she liked him-but not enough to forget the flash of Brian's eyes, nor the way his mouth had moved in hers when he stole his kiss. The lady had enough presence of mind to give Julian a smile, then bent her head to the waiting page and started reading to him. Let him learn to love her voice. If she had her way, she would be using it often.

Elena glanced up only once, and that was to give a quiet nod to Aelf, waiting silent and invisible in a corner. At her command the Celt returned the nod and ghosted away, back down to the drawing room with the finely-set china and the light streaming in through the glass of the windows. He was not happy about his little mistress' decision. She was 'his girl', a child with a better nature than the world thought prudent in a girl of such privelege. She was not ready to wed and know a man; even one as kind as this Julian seemed to be....not ready for children....and how would she like to be deposed to a stark, austere fiefdom so focused on war there was no comfort to be found in the entire Manor? But Aelf entered as ordered, stood at attention, and revealed the news with his face as blank as possible. "My lady, my lord-she has gotten him to propose. The Lord has proposed, and the Lady has accepted. It is done."

Darien waited for Albert to leave the room, and waited further for him to make the long trip down the corridor to Darien's private chambers before he closed the door and looked at Katherine with the eyes of a guilty child that had just been tattled on by his best friend.

"I'm sorry, I failed to inform you of my conversation with Lady McNamara. I had not thought it wise to trouble you with such matters. However, the woman is intriguing. You really should try to make more of an effort to meet the younger generation that is popping around the court these days," Darien said as he made his way back to the chair that his father once resided in.

Darien stared at his mother with childlike eyes, which Darien knew would not work on his mother.

"I will be leaving for the Garrisons soon enough, so I doubt that the Lady would dare come without my being here. However, if she should come, I trust that you will remember your place as hostess, mother," Darien said it with steel in his voice.

Darien had to admit that he was intrigued by what exactly Albert had managed to learn from his and Lady McNamara's conversation. He was intrigued further as to how Katherine had taken this news. Darien had to admit that he almost hoped that his mother would be proud of what he was wanting to do.

Darien did not have time to ponder on this long, for the door opened yet again and there stood Elena's gallant knight of virtue. Aelf, despite Darien's dislike for him, was at least completely loyal to his mistress. Albert could not be claimed for that.

Darien smiled as Aelf made his declaration, though his eyes cast a shadow of doubt. His sister had seemed very disinterested in the prospect of marriage. Though he knew his mother's will would eventually win out, it always did, he had expected more of a fight from her.

It was almost as if she was...no, she could not be that capable of hiding something from him. Though, Elena had developed quite a knack for deceit in her young years.

"Well, then we shall have to have a celebration, to announce the joyous affair. I suppose my trip to the Garrisons can be delayed for a bit longer. Perhaps I may make a proclomation myself whilst we are in a celebratory mood," Darien said, stealing a glance at his mother, daring her to speak.

"Aelf, speak to Albert and make all the preparations needed for the affair. We will need to send out the invitations immediately. Though I doubt the King will be able to come, perhaps we could convince some royal family member to come on his behalf. I understand that Prince Fergus is currently here using the stables for his men. Make sure that an invitation reaches him," Darien smiled at the sources of information that he had. The blacksmith and he had a complex relationship. The old man had on more than one occasion helped Darien with his misgiving advances on both women and men. The man was indeed wise to have a friend in the authority of the Fiefdom. He always kept Darien informed of things when he thought it was in his best interest. Darien made a mental note to send the blacksmith another "care package" for his troubles.

Darien lifted his freshly filled glass of brandy up to his mother and smiled, "To a fine match."

Darien's innocent gaze did not fool her, just as he had not expected it to. Katherine Lawley watched her son move back to his seat. It was obvious he knew what she was referring to using the name of Niamh McNamara. But another thing was not missed by Katherine's ear-in his words, he had not truly conifrmed that Lady McNamara would be the one coming to the Lawley Fiefdom. In his continuation, he only mentioned 'The Lady'. It could have just as easily not been her as it could have been. At least her son had learned some of the deceit she was capable of from her. If it only were not for his god-forsaken emotions!

Her thoughts mingled with the fact that Darien's sentences conveyed a clear sterness. In a way, a very indirect way, for he most certainly never would have dared to issue a direct order to her, Darien was telling her clearly what he wished of her to do. Her pride made a clear rebellion against allowing him such insolence, but her cold objectvity told her not to begin an argument. If the lady happened to be Niamh McNamara, they would have a lot to talk about indeed. If not,,,if not...then that Lady would most likely be intended as a ruse, to lure her away from Darien's plans. Katherine smiled inwardly, since she knew such a thing would never work. Owain would take care that she knew each and every move her son made. Owain or Albert.

Not making a single move, remaining stone calm, she spoke coolly, "I shall act within the bonds of civility towards her." Darien knew he could not get anything better out of his mother. And her bonds of civility were her own.

Before Darien got the chance to reply, Aelf entered the room rather abruptly. Katherine was already preprared to reprimand him, and she had already begun speaking disdainfully; "Aelf, how dare you intrude upon us in such a---!"

As his proclamation left his mouth Katherine decided to ignore his way of entering for the time being.

Although her face displayed none of it, she was rather shocked. Mostly by the fact that Elena had managed to actually get along with Lord Julian on her own. That she had not repelled him. That he had, instead of running off at the earliest convenience, asked her to marry him, A goal Katherine had wished to achieve had come quite soon...and it had been extremely easy. It surely was a good thing Lord Roger had gotten into that argument with Lord Cullen.

Acconplishment was the first things she felt after the shock went away. Her daughter, as worthless as she was, had managed to snatch a husband who owned a consderable amount of land. The fact he was very far away from both Katherine's and the Societys idea of the perfect gentleman mattered very little when one looked upon his money. Had this not been Elena, had this been a child more suited to her, Katherine would have even allowed herself to feel proud of her. But she felt proud of herself, and satisfied with the fact the Newburys were to be their relatives rather soon. Elena was but a pawn in her schemes.

"Yes, Aelf, do all that. " She intended to put in her best efforts in order to have the King appear at the wedding. Katherine could not have helped but finished the scolding from before, "And never again enter a room occupied by a Lord or a Lady without knocking like this."

"A fine match, indeed." Katherine said coldly to Darien, only turning her head without even sparing a nod.

Any bystander would have with certainity claimed that the news of her daughter's soon to be wedding had not evoked a single emotion within Lady Katherine Lawley.

After walking into the entryway of the castle Owain could tell immediately something was amiss. Some of the kitchen lasses were whispering excitedly to eachother in the corner. An eerie silence hung in the air, pocked only by the occational whisper of the servants. "Take the gown to M'ladys chambers and tend to your chores," he commanded after turning toward the two servant girls who had accompanied him to town. He absently waved them in the direction of Lady Katherines wing and turned to notice Aelf entering the enteryway, shutting the lounge door gently behind him. A quick conversation between them filling him in the events that had taken place in his absence. "hmm...M'lady will be.....pleased?" he pondered to himself and decided to make his presence known.

A gentle knock could be heard upon the hard wooden doors of the room. After a slightly irritated conformation to enter had been barked toward the door by Katherine; Owain slid quietly into the room.

He stood rigidly at attention. His lithe form extenuated by the black silk breeches and jack. His gaze lowered reverently toward the floor by his ladies feet. “M’lady your errands in town have been completed. The girls just returned from the tailor with your opal gown and I have seen to the other matters.” Softly said, his voice holding a warm, gentle quality. “May I remain on hand to assist you if a need should arise M’lady?” As he stated the question he glanced fleetingly up toward where both of them were seated and then immediately down again toward her feet. His face showing naught but a submissive reverence.

Katherine once again hid all emotion, remaining completely curt, only acknowledging Owain's entrance by a twitch of her head. Inwardly, she nodded approvingly. As usually, he appeared just as he was needed, even without her calling for him. Over the years, she had never once regretted taking Owain into her service. She still recalled that day, when he had come to beg for money to the Lawley Fiefdom. Katherine had had a premonition about him, one she had decided to follow. Obviously, it had been correct. There were no more faithful servants than Owain and Albert in this fiefdom. Faithful to her, not to Darien. Nobody was faithful to Darien. When he gave them no reason to be, she thought with an unsounded snort.

Owain informed her he had taken care of the opal gown she had had ordered from a tailor. A ever-so-small nod came from her, the sole appreciation he would receive for his service. But Owain knew better than to ever request more; "Good. There is no need for me to remain here any longer. She glanced at Darien briefly and coldly, producing a nod deeper(slightly) than the former one as a greeting to him. Then, she waved her hand imperiously, "Owain."

As she walked out of the room, she knew that Owain would follow her all the way to her office, where she would inform him of his newest task. Which he would, without doubt, complete with utmost precision.

(((OOC: SOrry it is so short...if you want to, Owain, I can start a new thread for our conversation :) )))