The heavily fortified gates of Newbury Fiefdom did not swing dramatically open for Lord Julian upon his return.

This would have been far too impractical, and the Newburys were nothing if not practical. Instead Julian and his manservant Wilmot rode up to the small side gate, dismounted, and led their horses through the narrow opening and into the courtyard.

Julian coughed into his sleeve, eyes watering from the dust the horses' hooves had stirred up in the already bone-dry courtyard. A retainer hurried over and took the mounts, leading them off to be brushed down, and to have the contents of the saddlebags relocated to the men's respective chambers. Julian steadied himself on his cane, wincing as he stretched his saddle-sore legs. He glanced towards his servant and smiled balefully. "I suppose we ought to let someone know we've arrived."

Wilmot snorted. "Reckon there's no need." He jerked his gray and grizzled head and Julian turned to look where he'd indicated...

Isobel wasn't one for grand entrances. She saw them as a vain act. From the courtyard she often walked in, she saw the small gate gradually creak open. The guards that worked it were unusally slow this day, not that Isobel really minded. For, it wasn't very frequent that she used those gates. Delicately, she sashayed away from the middle of the arid courtyard, as so that she wouldn't be trampled by the great horses that carried her brother and his servant on their backs. She flicked her eyes at the stablehands who'd been lounging around. It was their signal to get up and fetch the horses from Julian and Wilmot.

Although Isobel wasn't unattentive, she hadn't noticed the absense of her brother. Since the death of her dear mother, it had fallen upon the shoulders of the sixteen year old girl to run the household, for her father refused to remarry. She enjoyed the work, keeping her hands and head busy forced her to ignore the fact that there was a deep wound in her soul. Since the departure of her mother, there was always an emptiness inside of Isobel that she never liked to admit. Although she grieved for her mother, it was in silence, not too apparent to those around her.

When she saw her brother, a faint smile cracked upon her features. Delicately she nodded her head in a polite greeting before quipping, "I see you've improved your appearance, my dear brother." A small smile spreading onto her lips as the dust from the horses settled upon her pale green skirts. She'd had a softness for both of her brothers, and it pained her greatly to see them estranged. The expression on her face once again turned stoic as Isobel continued, "So, where exactly where you? Father has recently been leaving me in the dark about family affairs."

Julian smiled and limped over to his sister. Though his junior, Isobel had the maturity and comportment of a far older woman. While Julian was often given to flights of fancy, with his head in a book more often than not, Isobel seemed very much grounded in reality, given to practicality and serious looks. Still, she was family, and in the months that he had been back from the north, he'd rekindled a fraternal affection for all his siblings... save Roger, whom he hadn't seen in over five years...

But Roger was neither here nor now. Ignoring her comment on his appearance, Julian gave Isobel a polite, familial embrace, accompanied by a courtly kiss on the cheek. "I've just returned from Lawley Fiefdom," he explained, eyes glimmering with excitement. "On... political matters, of a sort." Try as he might, he couldn't keep a boyish grin from creeping across his face. "On the subject of father, is he about? I have news for him. And for you. And for everyone!"