The home of Sir John Marke and family

In reply to Sir John Marke (msg # 1):

One morning after William has had time to settle himself, for the moment, in Markham Hall, Sir John spends some time in his study composing polite missives to his neighbors, inviting them to dinner at Markham Hall the following Saturday evening to form or renew their acquaintance with his friend William Hood. Once they have all been written in his most elegant hand, he seals each one with his personal signet and entrusts them to his coachman Jem to ride around on horseback and deliver them to Angeline Walsh, Anna Morgan, David Arabin, Lady Victoria Darenvern, and even (a longer ride) to Bishop Ralph Udall and his daughter Miriam.

The day of the party has finally arrived. Mrs. Partridge has been put on her mettle to prepare her most toothsome dishes to delight the company, the maids have scrubbed and scoured all the public rooms to their finest shine, Jem and the ostlers are standing by to receive the guests'
horses and carriages, Sir John has taken out of press his finest claret-colored coat and gleaming white smallclothes and silken hose above his court shoes with silvers buckles. (He is not one for wearing trousers on a formal occasion, whatever Wellington may have done).
Standing in the hall with William, waiting to welcome his guests, he says with just a hint of nerves "I do hope that all the ladies and gentry of Allton will take to you, William. They are all good folk, and I trust you will like them as well. If so, it will make your stay her much more agreeable."

(From Darenvern Home)

The carriage arrived and the footmen opened the door, first her father got out then helped her mother, next Victoria.

Following her father they made their way to the entrance.

Once inside their cloaks taken, Victoria looked about Sir Marke's home, it was beautifully decorated, not overstated and very comfortable.  She must admit as she looked about she'd hoped to see William.  Or maybe even Vicar Arabin but it seemed they were the first ones to arrive.

Victoria had on her gold silken dress, with short sleeves, her gloves matched as did her slippers.  It was a plain dress but shimmered under the lights weather oil or candle.  She wore her hair up with some curls about and a pretty butterfly comb with rimstones and beading.

Sir John hastened to the door to welcome the Darenverns, declaring "I am honored that you have been so kind as to attend my little gathering. I do hope you will enjoy the evening. Pray do come in and have a glass of something while we are awaiting the rest of the company." He escorts them into a pleasant room well-furnished with elegant chairs and a sideboard laden with various wines, where a rather pretty maid (Sally) awaited them in her best white apron. She gave them all a warm smile and asked, "How may I serve you, please?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:58, Thu 25 Nov 2021.

>The Vicarage

Arabin arrived on his horse, a raw-boned grey that his man Strete had purchased for him from a local farmer. Seemed the animal knew its way around the village better than he did - he almost felt that if he told it where he wanted to go it would take him there without need for further directions.

He climbed down, his black cloak swirling, and handed the reins to a waiting stable lad.

"Thank you. His name is Marcus."

He went towards the door, which opened as he got there, and entered the well-lit warmth beyond.

William stood in the hall beside Sir John, perhaps a bit nervous about meeting the locals formally for the first time.  Of course, he'd been out and about the village several times during his stay at Markham Hall, walking here or there, or a-horse with his gallant steed Sirocco; but tonight was the first real and formal introduction he would have with Alton society, and he began to feel as uncomfortable as a teenage girl about to be presented to the Queen.

It was nonsense, of course, and so William fought the feelings away; if he'd stared down a square of howling French infantry, all of them firing their Charleville muskets, in enfilade, and it held no terrors for him, then surely an evening with the local gentry, especially the ladies, was nothing to feel anxiety over.  But like a good cavalry officer, he strained at the bit to be off and running, and get the engagement in motion - once begun, he could analyze how to approach it successfully, detect what pitfalls needed to be avoided, assess each danger as best he could, and produce a plan of action, at the  gallop, that would lead to an ultimately successful conclusion. Years in command in the saddle had trained him to think exactly as so, and he relentlessly applied this technique to all of life's situations, and to see any event through the tactical lens of a Hussar's charge away from completion.

He wore plain, grey woolen trousers, clean and simple and elegant to attend a party without much comment, yet practical enough to wear should a fence need mending, or a carriage wheel needed fixing, that he would be able to lend a hand.  He also wore his best white linen shirt, without ruffles, but with smooth, long sleeves ending in wide tailored cuffs and silver buttons impressed with the crossed swords and horse of a cavalry officer; he also wore his knee length black leather boots, highly polished, and beneath that new white silken hose.  Upon his shoulders he wore his officer's red wool jacket, still in fashion for the men who served in His Majesty's service, and at his waist he wore a black leather belt with a silver buckles, to which he'd attached his saber, sheathed and peace-bound.  He was freshly clean-shaven, and he'd lightly oiled and combed his hair so that the curly tangle he usually kept hidden beneath his Shako was at least manageable, like a wild kitchen garden only occasionally kept.

"Indeed, Sir John", he replied, "that is my hope as well".

It was the Darenvern company who had arrived first; William watched as first the Earl, then Lady Darenvern, and then finally the young and lovely Miss Darenvern, left their carriage and then entered Markham Hall.  William swallowed uncomfortably as his gaze alighted on Miss Darenvern, and fixed on her; she was a sight to behold.

Once again he felt the urge to gallop into the fray, but instead held himself back with steely discipline: if he charged like a battle-mad stallion into the Darenverns, whatever would they think of him?  No, better to hold his ground, at least for now, and let the events unfold, then see what happened.  He sighed, feeling a bit calmer, and then watched as the Vicar arrived, and also entered.

WIlliam oddly wished he was sitting astride Sirocco; he always felt most comfortable a-horse.  It was always among people, especially those he only slightly knew, or did not know, that he ever felt uncomfortable.  He hoped it did not show on his face.

He scooped up a glass of sherry and took a sip, to help him relax.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Wed 24 Nov 2021.

In reply to David Arabin (msg # 6):

The stableboy assures David "I'll take good care o' Marcus for ye, doctor." He carefully leads the horse away to the stables under Jem's watchful eye and then returns to receive more horses.

In reply to David Arabin (msg # 6):

Sir John welcomed David warmly, "Very glad to have you bless our gathering with your presence, Doctor Arabin -- and bless our dinner once the guests are all here. Meanwhile, pray enjoy a preliminary libation with the Darenverns." He leads Doctor Arabin into the drawing room and beckons to Sally to pour David a glass. She blushes a little guiltily (recollecting some unrepented sins) and asks "What would you care to have, Doctor Arabin?"
Meanwhile, Sir John returns to the front hall to greet more guests.

In reply to William Anthony Hood (msg # 7):

After welcoming the Darenverns Sir John murmured to William "As the duke of Allton is not in residence, the Davrenverns are our most distinguished household here. Moreover, their daughter Victoria is...extremely presentable, as you can see. Altogether a family worth knowing."

He leads William over to them and, addressing the earl, says, "My lord, may I present Major William Hood, late of His Majesty's cavalry in the Peninsula, and now come home from the field of glory to our peaceful countryside."

"A pleasure to be here, Sir John," replied the Vicar, having relinquished cloak and hat to the maid in the hall.

"I'll have a glass of red wine if I may."

He always found sherry a bit too sweet, even the dry ones.

He looked around the room and the gay attire of those already present, stark contrast to the unrelieved clerical black: coat, breeches, stockings, shoes... only a flash of white at neck and cuffs.

Spotting Lady Victoria, he smiled. She was a vision of loveliness in gold. The colour really suited her. He made to step in that direction but paused as Sir John began to introduce his visitor, Mister Hood, to her family. Judging by the scarlet coat, it should be something other than 'Mister' but he was woefully ignorant of military matters. He had heard that one could tell an individual's rank by their attire but had no idea how to read what he saw displayed beyond a gold-braided scarlet coat.

Sally the maid asks David very politely, "Would you care for a claret, sir?"

"I would relish a glass of claret, Sally, thank you," said Arabin.

Sally gives a little curtsey, ours out the claret from a crystal decanter and politely hands it to Davd.