The Quiet Place

[Elizabeth Davenport]

Being in the countryside always put Elizabeth at ease. The ton and society tended to make her anxious and she didn't like dealing with them. If Elizabeth had her way, she would remain in the countryside so she could spend time with her family, read and play music. But that wasn't how life worked and so she could only enjoy her time when she was allowed to remain in the country. Elizabeth wasn't sure when she'd be required to return to the city but until then, she would enjoy herself.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to steal away from the house for a walk or a horseback ride. The weather was lovely so she decided to take her favorite horse out for a ride. There was a lake she favored and took her horse on the trail in that direction. 

She began the trail around the lake, looking out across the water when something caught ahold of her cape. She tried pulling back on her horse for a moment so she could get her cape but it didn't work. Why had she even wore a cape today? Her horse lurched forward and Elizabeth yelped, being tugged back by her cape and falling off the horse. The fell also ripped her cape free from whatever branch it had been caught on, effectively putting a rip in the cape. Sighing, Elizabeth stood and dusted herself off. 

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---How Jeremy absolutely loved being in the country side during off season. The solitude and quiet peace allowed him to work on his writing without constant interruptions or a tedious event to attend. He knew that it was only short term but he would take whatever mere second he could get. Today, he ventured from his small cabin in the wood and found a nice little area by the lake. But he was not alone. He had Bubby with him. A . . .one eyed Bubby which was why Jeremy had brought a needle and thread.

---Bubby was his niece's favourite toy and because of how much she loved it, her mother had tossed it in the garbage. Jeremy however rescued it and planned to fix it up to surprise her with whenever he saw her next. He just could not understand how she had named this thing. It was a bunny . . . named Bubby. Perhaps a mix up in letters? Jeremy supposed he should never question the mind of a child. Imagination was a glorious thing.

---Once he got the eye sewn back on, he set Bubby upon a small rock next to him as he pulled out his paper and a quill. Looking between the stuffed rabbit and his paper, he leaned forward and turned Bubby around. "I cannot write while someone is looking at me," he said quietly, as if he need explain himself to an inanimate object. About to touch his quill to the paper a sudden sound ripped through the otherwise vacant area. And it did not sound far off either. Jeremy set down his items and quietly -- and cautiously -- followed the sound, keeping himself concealed so that he could asses the situation.

---Hiding  behind a trunk in a slightly elevated space he saw a young woman brushing herself off. It was a woman he had met before which . . . was reason to either walk away or approach her. The latter because well, any decent person would surely check to see if she was alright. The former because . . . he really could not think of a reason why he shouldn't help her. But he remained hidden, watchful. Waiting to see if she had an entourage of concerned chaperones that would hurry to her side and fuss over her well being. That was reason enough for him to not go as she surely would not need another person present.

---But. . . no one came. And so good conscience won the internal battle and he finally revealed himself and carefully went down the small hill to her aid. "Are you alright?" He asked, as he made his way to position himself across from her. The last time -- and first time -- they had met was at a ball and he knew that his appearance was quite different now. Untamed hair and casual textured attire. Still. His appalling -- as his mother would call it -- appearance was not a deterrent when it came to approaching her for assistance. "That seems to have been quite the fall," he added, his eyes falling to her cape where there was a tear in it.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:: first Jeremy post! Woo!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

She unlatched the cape from her neck, rubbing at her throat where it had tugged at her skin before making her fall from her horse. Elizabeth looked up to see that her horse had slowed which was good. At least she'd be able to catch up with him momentarily. A sound off to the side caught her attention and Elizabeth jumped slightly at the intruder. It was clear they held no ill-will towards her and her hand placed over her chest fell. "Oh, I'm quite alright. Thank you," Elizabeth assured him.

Elizabeth looked him over, feeling like he looked familiar. She had met this man before but it took her a moment to place his name. Jeremy Colborne, future Earl if her memory served her right. He'd seemed pleasant enough but the two hadn't been given him to really have a meaningful conversation. "Ah, yes. Unpleasant but no injuries," she said. "Lord Jeremy, it is quite nice to see you, although I had no idea your family held an estate out in the country." She just knew the Bridgerton family resided down the road from her own family's country estate. Elizabeth draped her cape over her arm as she walked forward to get her horse. "I'm sure my fall appeared quite graceful," Elizabeth said with a grin. 

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---Jeremy  gave a small nod when she said that she was alright. He really hadn't thought through what would have happened if she was not. It wasn't as if he was a doctor. Would he have rode with her? That would certainly be a problematic sight to behold. Fortunately, her words grounded him back into the reality of the situation which was that she was unharmed. "A relief then, that it was not a more serious accident." And that she had her horse well under control. She remembered his name and Jeremy had to think back to consider whether he had done anything particularly memorable upon their first meeting.

---He doubted it. And if he had, she surely would not be speaking with him so . . . amicably. "Lady Elizabeth," he greeted in return, the name quite naturally falling from his lips without having realized he'd committed it to memory for some reason. "Is it?" He suddenly asked when she said that it was nice to see him. Recognizing -- albeit belatedly -- how that could have sounded, he attempted to further explain himself. "I mean only that you are alone without a chaperone." He paused now realizing he may sound inappropriate. "Not that I would pose as any threat when you are alone in the woods." Very inappropriate indeed. And yet, he was trying not to solely focus on the tear in her cape that was really starting to bother him. "Or, at any other place or time." Do not look at the tear . . . do not look at the tear!

---He  took a slow breath, letting out a small sound of annoyance at himself as he tried to collect his thoughts and hope they came out in a way that did not make him sound like some sort of predator. "I merely mean to say that I do hope my presence does not cause you any discomfort." Yes! That was what he had been trying to say all along! Though if it had not caused her discomfort initially then perhaps it did now after all that he said. His mind played over the words in attempt to determine where there was any possible way they could be misconstrued. ". . . and that it is nice to see you too." Which, it was but perhaps he should have just said that instead of his rambling which would surely traumatize her more than falling off her horse.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

Elizabeth was able to catch up with her horse, as he'd not gone too far. She grabbed ahold of his reins and brought him back towards Jeremy to continue her conversation with him. Her eyebrows shot up at his question on was it indeed nice to see him again. She grinned and laughed at the slip of the tongue. There had been many times Elizabeth had a difficult time keeping her thoughts to herself, wishing to say something else instead of what was socially acceptable and expected. "It is," she assured him, the grin still on her face. 

Elizabeth watched, albeit with a little amusement, as Jeremy continued to fumble over his words. It appeared like he was realizing he was saying the wrong things, rather than truly not knowing what to say. Elizabeth had seen plenty of awkward people but that was not what she was getting from Jeremy. It was endearing and quite frankly, a bit refreshing. "I am not uncomfortable, but I do appreciate you checking," Elizabeth assured him. "I shall not tell if you do not." Being unchaperoned with an unmarried man would certainly cause problems if someone else were to come upon them but considering most of this land belonged to the Davenport family, likely bordering on that of the Colborne's, she was not terribly concerned with it.

"Have you come out to the lake to read or simply escape something else?" Elizabeth asked. She supposed it was rather forward but given their conversation thus far, she knew it was not overly presumptuous of her to assume he was different. 

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---She  laughed. He supposed it was a welcome alternative to . . . well, screaming and running away. Especially since her laughter did not seem to be one of mockery or judgement. Nor did she criticize his ramblings or find offense in them. It allowed him to relax in that potentially damaging topic as he readied himself to move on from it. Which Elizabeth provided an opportunity for. "I will not say a word," he promised with a smile. Had she been another, she could have easily ran off and told her family of the inappropriate man in the woods. Her father would have eventually told his and it would be just one more lecture, one more reason for criticism and one more judgement as to why he was not a good son. Or in this case, a proper gentleman.

---So yes. The very least he could do was silence his lips so to protect her position in society and avoid any scandal on both their parts. "I enjoy the tranquility," he told her in answer. Ah yes now came that conflicting situation of whether to reveal his writing. While he wrote under an alias he was not terribly opposed to discussing his work. "It inspires me," he added on, not fully realizing that he'd had half the conversation in his own head. Or maybe he had realized it and it was his way of settling the internal dispute. "And what about yourself?" He inquired in return.

---He refrained from bringing up her lack of a chaperone again . . . not wanting to fall down that path of conversation again. "What brings you out in the middle of the woods?" Clearly, riding but the reason for it? Perhaps too personal. Perhaps too inquisitive of him. Perhaps -- "You have a tear in your cape." And finally, he had blurted it out. For it was disturbing him greatly and he was unable to hold himself back any longer; forced to address it . . . as if there was an itch in his very brain that he could not scratch.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

She nodded her head in acknowledgement that he agreed to not tell anyone. Elizabeth knew she would not mention the meeting to anyone. Of course, there was always the chance that the interaction would come to have meaning and she would tell Benedict but she knew even he would show disappointment for her being so careless without a chaperone. Elizabeth found the idea of a chaperone to be quite silly but it was one of those things that society would not let her get around. Spending time with Benedict was perhaps the only unmarried man she could spend time with unchaperoned but even now her stepmother put up a fuss over it. 

Elizabeth smiled and nodded her head in agreement. She could appreciate the tranquility of the countryside, especially the lake. "And what do you seek inspiration for?" Elizabeth asked. Perhaps he liked to paint like Benedict or do something else that required tranquility and focus. There was a chance he would not care to tell her in which she would respect his decision, but she found herself curious nevertheless. 

"I like the quiet," she answered. "But today's outing is in thanks to my stepmother who seems quite insistent on getting new gowns for the upcoming season. One of my favorite things about staying in the country is not having to think about all of that. This might come as a surprise, but I am not overly fond of the social season," Elizabeth confessed. His mention of her cape had her look down and she nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid it is. I'm not overly talented at sewing so I'll have to have someone else fix it, if it's not past the point of being fixed," she said.

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---She  asked him what he sought inspiration for and . . . well, there was no harm in honestly answering it. After all, unlike his family he was not ashamed of his writing talents. And with the two of them alone here, he need not fear the scrutiny from his father that would come along with this revelation. "Writing," he answered simple. "I do quite enjoy the literary arts," he added on, dabbling in as much as he could. Why limit oneself to only a single form of writing?

---He actually felt quite good about being truthful when she began to open up herself in response to his inquiry. He tilted his head to the side in intrigue and she finished by saying that she was not overly fond of the social season. That, coupled with the fact that she did not like getting new gowns was interesting indeed. Selina had been quite excited about her first season. The entire household was as she had extravagant gowns made and his parents spared no expense with it.

---"And why is that?" He asked upon her reveal as she deemed, surprising. "Is it perhaps your first social season and with it come the nerves and uncertainty as to what to expect?" Clearly, he was thinking out loud as he tried to deduce what the reason could be. "Or perhaps you have had many and therefore are tired of them." That . . . could have insulted her. Was it offensive? As Jeremy overthought the statement he realized it could be; implying that she remained unwed for so long. "Not that that is a . . . bad thing." It was his sister's greatest fear as he recalled. But, clearly not all women were like that.

---His gaze fell once again to the torn fabric as she said she would get someone to fix it. "It is not," he immediately reassured her upon her last statement . . . realizing that it may have been a little too immediate. A little too knowledgeable. "Beyond . . . repair . . . " He slowly added unnecessarily. "It is just a tear," he added on. "A simple . . . entirely fixable . . . " Maddening! "Tear." Oh how it bothered him as he clenched his jaw to bite back the offer to fixing it himself. He could practically hear his father scolding him for even possessing such a thought.

---But . . . Jeremy could not dismiss the idea of fate. He just so happened to have a needle and thread with him. Surely, it all happened for a reason? Or perhaps, this was just more inner dramatics that he was prone to consider. Somehow, he came to realize that he was just staring and forced his gaze to move from the damaged fabric back to her face. "It is a nice cape." Did he truly just say that? That could very well be worse than offering to fix it.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

Elizabeth perked up a little when he mentioned he liked to write. She loved to read so there was no doubt that if he were to ever let him read his writings, she would enjoy it. "That's wonderful," she said with a smile. "I'm not much of a writer, but I do love to read. Perhaps one day you shall give me the honor of reading something you have written." Elizabeth did not want to pressure him or outright ask if she could read his musings, as she knew that artists tended to be self-conscious about their work and preferred to keep it close.

Jeremy began to ramble again and Elizabeth chuckled, allowing him to finish before she began to answer his questions. "It is not my first season," she explained. "Goodness, I believe this will be my third. I'm afraid I've been rather odd with circumstances and haven't been terribly consistent with my seasons." Not that she minded. Elizabeth had openly welcomed her last reprieve from the social season. "I could have one season and be tired of them," Elizabeth assured him with a smile. 

Glancing down at her cape again, she sighed. It had been her mother's and perhaps that was why she had insisted on bringing it out even though the weather was perfectly fine to go without it. At his insistence that it was not beyond repair, Elizabeth quickly looked up, her eyebrows raised slightly. "Do you know something of sewing?" She asked. There was no judgement in her voice, only curiosity. Elizabeth smiled at his compliment of her cape. "Thank you, it was my mother's," she said. At least with his assurance, she was relieved to know it could be fixed and she would not be without it.

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---Jeremy  smiled in return when she stated that she liked to read, claiming that she was not much of a writer. She even wished to read something he wrote. He wondered if it would be considered hubris to reveal his writing name to her to see if she has read any of his work. He supposed in order to determine whether it was or was not, he would have to consider the intention of revealing it. Which, did not take a great deal of deep digging. It was to impress. "Oh it is no honor, believe me," he said, deciding against arrogance and instead modesty. Though, these words were far more true.

---Yet to hear that someone could consider it an honor to read something he wrote was . . . most flattering. His father would refer to it as a disgrace and while Jeremy was not one to fish for compliments, one could not deny that it felt quite good to receive them. Even if it was out of mere politeness that she was saying such things for she could easily change her mind once she actually read what he wrote. Pushing aside such automatic negative thoughts, he continued on his path of inquiry. "What do you most enjoy reading?" His small cabin out here was lined with shelves of books upon books. He was curious to know if he had read anything of her particular interest.

---She revealed that this was her third season, yet circumstances were odd. It would make sense. She did not seem to be that which would be considered a wallflower. He doubted she was in any short supply or proposals based on her beauty alone. So odd circumstances certainly made sense . . . even if he hadn't the slightest clue what they entailed. "What is it about the social season you do not like?" He asked curiously. "Perhaps this will be your last and you therefore need not endure them any longer." . . . was there anything that could suggest possible offense in his statement? Jeremy often wished he considered this before words escaped him rather than after and considering how many times he had already fumbled his words . . . it would come as no surprise if he managed to once again, imply something of an impolite nature.

---Her question however called for a rather simple response. It was either a yes or no, surely. Yet with Jeremy, things were not often simple. "I . . . no . . ." Now he was not one to lie. So he almost regretted saying the word. Almost. For there was perhaps a saving grace to it. No and know. Yes yes! He could play off the latter. But then, with it would come admittance that he did indeed know how to sew. She further explained that it was her mothers. Past tense. Oh and she had mentioned her step-mother. Oh dear. It was of sentimental value. Jeremy closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as the storm raged in his head. Either he be a liar, or risk shame for possessing a skill that was not . . . masculine. What would he rather. What would he rather. The internal debate was enough to drive him mad as he could feel his heart in his chest as each second dragged on to feel eternal.

---"I  know how to sew," he finally blurted out as if he was holding his breath -- which he now realized he may very well have been doing -- as his eyes opened at the same moment his words spilled out. But he did not look at her. Instead, he looked up at the sky. The clouds. Ah yes. How the clouds were quite beautiful. He could not quite bare to see any judgement or ridicule in her eyes so he had to look elsewhere. Anywhere else as he went on to explain. "I can . . . fix your cape. If you like." If she trusted him to do so. "I happen to have a needle and thread with me," he added on. As if his admittance was not bad enough, he now acted as if this was quite normal for him to do. He lowered his gaze briefly to her face and then at the tear. "It shan't take long," he further assured. "Because . . . I can sew." The revelation came full circle and he finally brought his eyes to the dreaded place: to meet her own gaze.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

"Of course it would be an honor," Elizabeth insisted. "Art, whether it's writing, painting or perhaps music, is a form of expression and we tend to put the more vulnerable pieces of ourselves into it, do you not agree?" Elizabeth dabbled with writing music but had never gotten into writing words to go along with her music, and even that was something she did not play for people she barely knew. Benedict and her father were perhaps the two people she would openly agree to play original pieces for. 

He asked what she enjoyed to read and Elizabeth grinned. She loved talking about books and whatever she could get her hands on. "I am quite fond of Jane Austen," Elizabeth gushed. "Anything that might be considered folklore where I can get lost in a world. Oh, and I've recently gotten my hands on several novels by Elias Knight and he's quite brilliant." Elizabeth could have gone on all day about novels but knew he had likely only asked to be polite. 

She chuckled and shook her head. What was there to like about the social season? She'd stay in the countryside for her whole life if she could get away with it. "I'm not overly fond of all the pretending," Elizabeth confessed. "Most of the people I speak with, I hardly care to hold a conversation with them. And if I'm being quite honest with you, I don't care to be paraded around like a heifer for sale." Her statement would have gotten her a scolding if she had said it to anyone else, but she felt that he would not take offense with such a confession. "Yes, but for it to be over would mean I'd have to find someone to marry and that becomes quite a predicament when you come to realize you are meant to spend the rest of your days with this one person. I've found myself to be quite particular with the task." That, and she knew the more she held out the longer she could hold onto her normal life. "I suppose you had no luck finding yourself a wife last season?" Because surely she would have heard of him getting engaged given his rank.

Jeremy said he didn't know how to sew and while Elizabeth did not fully believe him, she did not push the topic either. She smiled, nodded, and looked back down at the cape to dust some dirt from it using her hands. Jeremy spoke and she looked back up at him, smiling at his confession. "That would be wonderful. You would not mind?" She asked, not wanting to be bothersome. "I'm afraid my fingers were never suited for sewing. They tend to be constantly moving." Sometimes they would just move as if she were playing the piano or another instrument. It drove her stepmother absolutely crazy.

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---Jeremy  gave a small nod in agreement to her words. "Indeed." Writing gave him the emotional release he needed as a child. An escape and way to express himself where he otherwise was expected to suppress thoughts, emotions and . . . whatever made him feel most like him. Thus, his chosen name of Elias Knight where it was his truest form. His truest form of self. "And what form of creative expression do you indulge in the most?" If any . . . though surely there was something. As was expected of women; to possess such a skill that could be boasted about at social gatherings and among the ton. Unfortunately his own was . . . not quite considered as such. Neither of his skills were be it writing or sewing. Neither were becoming of a future Earl . . . apparently.

---When she shared her favorites, his lips curved into a smile, fighting the urge to announce that he was Elias Knight. He did feel his heart swell with pride and honor that out of the countless novelists she could have named, she named him. Not to flatter him for she did not know he was Elias . . . which, made it mean all the more. "I have read many of the works of both novelists . . . thoroughly." There was a slight playfulness in his voice and a smile that remained. Perhaps he would tell her when circumstance could make it so that he was . . . boasting less and perhaps reveal it through a more creative means. This would indeed require some thought.

---Fortunately until then, she spoke of what she disliked regarding social season. A abrupt and short sound of laughter escaped his lips at her mention of heifer . . . and he wondered if that was meant to be funny or not. "Apologies," he added, in case she had not expected it to be amusing. "I do understand your perspective," he began to say pensively. "I suppose, most women enjoy the attentions when granted it. And that for many, they relish in the facades and games that high society engages in, knowingly or not." It was after all, seemingly a game. He had seen so much of it when men came to court his sister. The way they treated him so differently; attempting gain his favor. In competition with one another.

---It was quite fortunate indeed that his father was the only to mainly handle it but that did not fully deter some of the more . . . eager men. "Will you not find that the longer you wait, the more particular you will become and thus, the more challenging it will be to find the perfect husband?" He paused, already knowing that yes . . . that was quite an intrusive and potentially offensive question. "I do not mean to offend," he quickly added. "Merely, to inquire. As to whether you hope or desire to find a lifelong companion." Spinsters were often deemed as a dreadful fate . . . but perhaps there were women who preferred it that way. Damned be what society thought. It was, admirable Jeremy quite liked to think. Any deviation from social norms he found to be rather fascinating.

---But then she returned the question to him and Jeremy paused in thought of how to answer -- for once. "I am not entirely sure, if I am properly looking." Perhaps it best he not think before answering for even he knew how cryptic and uncertain that statement sounded. "I mean to say that . . . I find the circumstances to meet a potential wife not the most ideal." And that, could be left open to much interpretation which is just as he would leave it at. The crowds caused him immense stress. And that did not bode well when attempting to find a partner. There were of course Granville's parties as well but people did not attend to find a life long spouse. Some came to escape theirs.

---Her reaction to his revelation was . . . surprising. She did not seem to hold judgement but rather, gratitude at his offer. Most interesting. But then, she did not even judge him on his state of his unruly hair or his ridiculous comments. "Not at all," he assured her. "It only requires practice." Had he not already basically told her he was adept at sewing, he may have reconsidered his words revealing that he had practiced. "My supplies are just above this small hill." It was not overly steep, and where he gained the higher ground to watch her before initially approaching. "You can ride your horse up if it is easier," he told her, already taking a few steps up the small incline.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

"Music," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Piano is my favorite but I dabble in other instruments as well." Music felt like another language to Elizabeth and it was one she was quite fluent in. It was something her mind just understood and there was nothing better than feeling music flow over her, soothing her fears or making her feel safe. She was quite pleased to hear that he was a fan of both authors she had mentioned. It was not often that she could hold a meaningful conversation with someone about books, especially ones she enjoyed, so the idea that she'd get to have this conversation with someone was more than enough to please her. "That's wonderful. I would love to hear more about your thoughts on their works sometime," she said.

His laugh just made her smile. She took no offense to his laughter but instead was relieved and further assured that he was not like most people in the ton. He would not get offended when Elizabeth spoke her truth, something she'd only been able to do in front of Benedict until just now. "There is no need," she assured him. He was correct in assuming that most women loved the attention and flourished in it. "An astute, and correct, observation." Elizabeth nodded her head with a smile on her face. 

She pursed her lips together as she thought over her question. It was a good point and not one she had thought about. Had time made her more particular? "I care not for the games of courting and all that comes with it. I do not care to be impressed with titles and accomplishments. If I am to spend the rest of my life with someone, I wish to find someone I enjoy being around. I'd like someone I can have a conversation with and someone that cares to hear my thoughts." Which was difficult to surmise amongst the gentlemen that paraded themselves in front of Elizabeth each season. 

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding. She knew plenty of bachelors that were not looking for wives at the moment, far too pleased with their current lives to worry about such a thing. Her dearest friend being one of them. She was rather curious when he spoke of the circumstances and how he did not find them ideal. Elizabeth could not be certain in which way he meant it, but if she understood that he thought the balls and events were difficult, then she would have to agree. "You mean to say you do not enjoy trying to have a conversation with a possible bride with all the eyes of the ton upon you?" Elizabeth asked with a teasing smile. 

To hear that he had his supplies on him was curious but not something Elizabeth would question. "Lovely," she said. Elizabeth shook her head and smiled at him. "Not a problem. It's easy enough," she assured him. Leading her horse up the small hill, Elizabeth tied his reins to a branch where he could also graze on the grass. She saw some items where she guessed he had been sitting before her small incident. She even noted a small stuffed animal and Elizabeth smiled. "Did you make that?" She asked.

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jeremy Colborne]

---Jeremy  listened intently as she explained that she enjoyed music, playing piano specifically as her own form of creative expression. "That is very impressive," he stated as if it was simple fact. For he himself had no musical talent. "Have you composed anything of your own?" He wondered. Where he write his own works, he wondered if she ever thought to create her own musical compositions. Had Jeremy started writing for the sake of fame, he knew that passion would be replaced with the pressures and stresses of being successful. But sometimes, it was nice to make creations out of passion, just for oneself. He continued to smile as she spoke of wanting to hear her thoughts about their works. His smile was both of wanting to as well as the knowledge he possessed. "I would quite like that. As I would also enjoy hearing your own thoughts of it."

---The  when entered his mind. Was it a conversation to be had now? Or . . . in the future? Overthinking such things was both a strength and weakness within Jeremy. Though in current circumstances, he also thought of it because he did not wish to deceive Elizabeth by withholding the truth. He felt relief once more when she assured him there was no need for apology and that his observation was correct. "I do wish I could attest it to my own deep understanding and well versed knowledge of the subject," he said with a bit of a tease and quite clear in that he did not believe that he was necessarily those things. "However, I have two sisters. So I have gained some of that understanding through their own experiences. Of what I have lay witness to anyway." He would not pretend nor even suggest that he knew what it was to be a woman. Damned difficult that was for certain. Jeremy let out another short laugh at her words before quickly silencing himself with the same abruptness as when the laugh came.

---Her words were not humorous. Well, not in the conventional way. Oh to be in Jeremy's head was surely a treacherous thing. For now he knew he had to explain himself. He ran his tongue over his lips -- a habit that his mother abhorred -- yet one he did when he felt his throat suddenly dry. Whether the physical need to moisten his lips was there or not, it existed in his mind and that was enough to prompt action. "I do apologize," he started saying. "I do not mock your words." Her spoken words of what she desired in a husband. They were perfectly acceptable. "It is just that . . . " He fought and in the end failed, in preventing his lips from curving upward into a smile. "One would think that what you seek in a husband is so simple. And yet . . . it is perhaps one of the most difficult things to find in another." The irony of it had amused him.

---For it should not be so hard to find someone that one could simply talk to. And yet, it was. Conversations were so laced with pleasantries, politeness, and the desperate need to impress as well as maintain appearances. If one was stripped of all things . . . Jeremy could only dare to imagine what would be left. Far easier filtering of a suitable partner that is for sure. "I do hope you find it though," he told her honestly. "Ease and comfort in whomever you shall one day call husband." And he did mean it. He only hoped she believed him after what seemed to be his repeated attempt to offend her. Unintentionally of course, but nevertheless . . . he admired her for her resilience to his remarks.

---This time, his smile of amusement was far better timed as she made a teasing remark. "We men may not be paraded like heifers." -- an earlier reference to her description -- "But we are like lambs to be slaughtered by the sharp and unyielding tongues of eager mamas." The gossip had never quite phased him as he tended to live within himself. But his family was quite concerned with their reputation. And his own mother engaged in such gossips herself. Perhaps he would have managed to think twice before saying such words in the presence of a marquis' daughter . . . but something inside him, assured him that this time, she would not be offended. And that ease, knowing that and possessing this reassurance . . . made him start to feel oddly relaxed in her presence.

---He kept a watchful eye on her as she ascended the hill, remaining close and about to offer his hand though realizing that she was perfectly capable without it. Once they reached the top and her horse was secured, he made his way over to his small satchel which contained the need and thread wrapped in a cloth. Holding it in one hand, he turned his attention to her when she asked about Bubby. "Ah yes," he said, not thinking twice about making such an admittance. He had not initially told Selina that he had made it but . . . Arabella somehow knew. "It is for my niece. It was quite worn so I was merely touching it up for her." It did honor Jeremy . . . to know that the granddaughter of an earl could have any toy at any expense, yet she favorited something he had made. Smiling at the thought as he stared at the stuffed toy, he seemed to remember his purpose for bringing her here. Slightly shaking his head he looked back at Elizabeth. "Your cape, Ms. Davenport," he requested.

TAG:
Elizabeth Davenport

NOTES:
none!

[Elizabeth Davenport]

Elizabeth shrugged, not entirely sold on the idea that being able to play a musical instrument was impressive. It was one of the skills a woman was expected to learn in order to be considered accomplished, but not everyone was able to handle the skill. "I've dabbled," she confessed. "Anything I've written has been for the piano, as that's my favorite. But I've been rather fond of the violin lately as well." It seemed there wasn't a musical instrument that Elizabeth couldn't master. She found she was quite pleased when he agreed to have a conversation with her about literary works, although she supposed he could have been agreeing to such a thing out of politeness.

"Sometimes observation is the best form of gaining knowledge," Elizabeth pointed out. "My own sister has her first season coming up, so one would think the attention would be on her in the house but that has not been the case." It appeared Helen thought that getting Elizabeth married was still the more important task, not wanting her younger sister to get married before her. Truthfully, Elizabeth did not care if Emily found a match this season. She would be happy for her sister but knew that it would not look good. 

She was not offended by his laugh, but rather curious as to what he found so amusing about what she'd said. Surely he had an explanation and Elizabeth did not wish to jump to conclusions. Her eyes darted down to his lips as his tongue flicked out before he started to explain. Just as she'd expected, his explanation made perfect sense and she smiled at him, a small chuckle of her own escaping her lips. "You are absolutely correct," Elizabeth agreed. "It shouldn't be this difficult. But unfortunately, it seems our society has put far more focus on accomplishments and status than deciding if two people can build a happy life together." Because in reality, Elizabeth did not care about status. She wouldn't admit it in so many words, but if she were to get married then all she truly wanted was a love match like her parents. His words, wishing her to find what she wished made Elizabeth smile and she nodded her head in thanks.

"Ah of course not. Men are not like heifers. Instead, they are sought after like a prized stallion," Elizabeth continued to joke with him. "The mamas are quite atrocious." Elizabeth might not have to deal with them like the men did, but she could still understand how terrifying they could be. 

He confirmed that the stuffed animal was something he made and Elizabeth found herself quite impressed. It looked like something one would buy from a shop and if she had not known he cared for sewing, she would have guessed as much. "That's very nice of you," Elizabeth said with a smile. "And I must say, your craftsmanship on him is wonderful." Elizabeth had a small inkling that he was not often inclined to share his talent with many, so she wanted him to know that he was quite brilliant with a needle. She handed him her cape and chuckled. "Oh, please. Call me Elizabeth," she insisted. 

---

Tag: Jeremy Colborne  

credit to Laura of Adox