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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Nov 23, 2022 22:41:46 GMT
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name:. Derrick Kenworthy
.:Nick Name:. Hudson
.:Rank:. Marquess of Hudson
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:. Tall, with unpopular curls for his time.
.:Height:. 6"1'
.:Portrayed by:. Henry Cavill
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. Hudson has a relaxed feel to him, and often does not seem in a hurry. He has spend years working on staying in control of everything around him and has no intention of letting anyone remove that power from him. Second only to Dukes and the King, Hudson has very few that even try.
.:Skills:. Reading people or situations.
.:Weaknesses:. maintaining relationships--be it friend, familial, or romantic
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. London, England
.:Family:. Only a sister left, the rest have died
.:Occupation:. Gentlemen do not have occupations solider turned spy
.:History:. Born a third son, and then called Derrick, he had no worries of needing to know the family business. However he did have a need for income, as he could not spend every moment living off his father's alliance. As a third son, there would be no high ranking marriage, or important roles for him. SO he did what many third sons do and faced the choice of the military or the Church.
So he became a soldier. His father's name and rank kept him from the trenches of the battlefield, and later his noble charm gained him another important role. People did not often worry about what was said around a 'third son off wasting his fathers money'. He became a spy for England.
It was not until 15 years into his career that he would be summoned back to England. His father, mother, and two brothers had all died in a carriage accident. They had apparently been coming home from his brother's intended's ball. The rain turned heavy and with no light to see . . . they ended up in the river. It was tragic--and happened 5 years ago!
Returning late to take his place as his father's heir, to see to his sister, and figure out his new place in the world--Hudson has come home.
| ~ • ~ | Member Info | ~ • ~ |
.:Name or Online Alias:. Duchess
.:Your Pronouns:. ♀
.:Are you 18+:. ✔️
.:How Did You Find Us:. I blame my self control . . . that I do not have
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jan 22, 2022 2:01:42 GMT
Simon was not one to sneak about, but nor was he a person who made much sound. Much of his life he had spent quite, so it was not out of the normal for him to move down the halls without making a sound. Were as some boots thudded with power from a man's walk, Simon's boots and walk didn't echo. Which was why he was not sneaking, but simply walking up when he noticed what Benedict was drawing.
Simon was dropping his wife off at the Bridgerton house in London, and thought to ask his friend Anthony to visit White's with him. However, as it seemed Anthony was not at home, he was on his way out when he noticed Colin there. Thinking to at least make a greeting, and he had walked up slightly behind him in the morning room. "Colin," he called in greeting.
@colinbridgerton
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jan 20, 2022 23:27:17 GMT
Simon had only ever made two vows in his life. They both contradicted each other. The first was that he would live to spite his father, and let the treasured Hastings line die with him. It was a death bed vow made to the monster who had thought his son dead to him, because the Hastings line meant more then his son's stammer. On the bastard's death bed, he had finally admitted what 11 year old, and 6 year old, and 3 year old Simon had wanted to hear--he was proud. Yet it was hollow, and adult Simon cared little for pride. He wished his father would have choked on his pride years ago.
The later vow was to his wife. This was not made of hate, and a 20 year hate of a spiteful man. This one was made of love. He loved her then, on their wedding day, and he loved her now. He had agreed to try to live for her, and let go of the hate he grew to know, in favor of the love and light she brought in to his life. He had agreed to try to live a happy life, and love more then he hated.
This did not mean it was always easy. He still fought his demons daily. He still found the company of himself (or just with her) favorable to the company of the ton. However, today we was seeking out someone else, for help. "Miss. Nolan" He said softly as he entered into what would be the nursery in a few weeks when Daphne gave birth. "Might I have a word?"
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jan 18, 2022 3:33:16 GMT
How wise of the head strong woman before him, as she spoke about the world being a stage. It was a solid reminder to him that he need not think too much about her skin, for it would never be his to touch. She wanted to make a good match, and possibly find love. Something he could not afford to give her since he was determined to finish this life alone.
"I fear that the London men have yet to understand they are in your play, and are merely your puppets." He told her, daring to lean in a little closer. Clearly he was meaning it as a way to make the men wonder what he was saying to her, and to keep their attention on her--not because he wanted to smell her clean and fresh scent. Not because he enjoyed the way her cheeks turned pink. Not because he enjoyed her gaze. "Yet they will learn."
Leaning back to a respectfully distance, and so he was once again standing straight, Simon looked down at her tall frame, and kept his smile in check. Where had this wit come from. Surely not from her brothers. He did not know her mother well enough to assume.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Dec 29, 2021 1:27:26 GMT
Simon felt his heart beating faster, as his wife reacted to his touch. To his kiss. He had not lied to the queen when he admitted what he felt, and if he had to tell her once again, his words would be different. They would be more powerful. More admitting to being in awe of her.
One of his hands moved down to her hips to help give her balance, as the last thing he wanted was for her to fall. Her nimble fingers began undressing him, and he moved his body to help her. Letting her remove his vest, and shirt. His trousers would take too long, for that would mean removing his now wet boots, and Simon could afford another pair. He did not care if they ruined.
Tossing his shirt to the side, Simon let her begin to undo his trousers. The need for her burning more now than in the garden, or their wedding night--the more he learned what she liked, the more he wanted to give it to her. Once she had unbuttoned him, Simon lifted her so he could slowly lower her over him, sinking deeper into her heat as he did. Groaning her name, "Daphne," Simon put her forehead on her's. "Brace your hands on my shoulders, and lift yourself up." He instructed, so he could begin moving over him.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Dec 24, 2021 17:16:25 GMT
Simon had been raised mostly alone, except for the company of caretakers and later Lady Danbury. He had expected to live his life alone as well. Hearing Daphne burn for him, hearing her cry his name as she felt most at need--feeling her skin move and tremble under his finger tips--made him wonder how he could have ever thought to live without her. Knowing that she was satisfied with the life he could give her, and knowing that she still burned for his touch made him love her all the more.
Made him burn for her all the more. His fingers pressed into her belly to keep from touching her. He wanted to watch her, but the need to be the reason she came was powerful. Slowly his fingers trailed up to cup her breast as she moaned his name. "Yes?" he questioned as if she were calling him name to ask something of him. Teasing her to make her use her words. "Did you need something of me, love?" His finger and thumb found her nipple and he rolled it between them.
He felt her grow close and longed to be inside her when she came, but knew the folly of it. Simon no longer cared about his trousers, or boots, or clothes that he would now ruin. He only cared that his need for this wife was growing painfully hard after watching her touch herself and cry his name. Standing, he lifted one foot into the bath, and left on to balance himself with while sitting on the edge of the tub. "Did you need this?" Reaching for Daphne, he pulled her up, lifting her into his lap. She soaked his pants, but he only cared that he could now kiss her. His fingers burying themselves into her hair as he kissed her lips.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 19, 2021 18:19:07 GMT
Simon had only ever made two vows in his life. They both contradicted each other. The first was that he would live to spite his father, and let the treasured Hastings line die with him. It was a death bed vow made to the monster who had thought his son dead to him, because the Hastings line meant more then his son's stammer. On the bastard's death bed, he had finally admitted what 11 year old, and 6 year old, and 3 year old Simon had wanted to hear--he was proud. Yet it was hollow, and adult Simon cared little for pride. He wished his father would have choked on his pride years ago.
The later vow was to his wife. This was not made of hate, and a 20 year hate of a spiteful man. This one was made of love. He loved her then, on their wedding day, and he loved her now. He had agreed to try to live for her, and let go of the hate he grew to know, in favor of the love and light she brought in to his life. He had agreed to try to live a happy life, and love more then he hated.
This did not mean it was always easy. He still fought his demons daily. He still found the company of himself (or just with her) favorable to the company of the ton. Which was why he was currently sitting in the breakfast room, reading the daily paper (not that gossip rag Whistledown) and enjoying his morning at home. |
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 13, 2021 0:50:09 GMT
Bridgerton offered him a glass of brandy, and Simon took it--grateful for the drink and the words. "A am pleased to hear it. I know I have given you reason to doubt. I wont give reason again." He meant it. He was not going to let this second chance at life slip through his grasp again.
He was trying to let his hate with her father go, and work on a happy life instead. Or at least living to spite the man. He was still working out the details in his head, and did not think he would ever full let go of the hate for the man who sired him, but he did not have to let it drive his life.
"I thought perhaps if I explained more then I could before, it would help repair the friendship. I have always counted you among my closest friends. I would have wished for none other to be my brother-in-law as well." Simon would not expose Daphne in his telling, but only of himself. |
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 13, 2021 0:37:13 GMT
Simon felt his lips twitch in a sly smile, as Bridgerton vexed on about the older sister. It left Simon feeling very satisfied with karma and life. Not that he blamed Bridgerton for his actions during the courting of his sister--it still was enjoyable to watch him struggle with the same thing.
"How hard indeed," Simon agreed, trying (and failing) to keep the amusement out of his tone. He knew whistledown loved to talk about rakes, but with Simon she had painted him as a target to be won and he had hated it. Every Mama had her daughter thrust into his path, and fawning over him. Now, Anthony was dealing with the woman.
"Doesn't the girl have a mother? Why would he elder sibling need to be won over?" Simon asked, enjoying the irony. "How ever will does one win over such a unreasonable older sibling, when they are so against your courtship?" He had not been able to feel more normal with Anthony until after his marriage's happy turn with Daphne.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 13, 2021 0:27:02 GMT
Simon had not spent a great deal of time with the younger Bridgerton, but he could see the differences quickly. Where as Anthony was arrogant and bold, Benedict was confidant in his stance but not arrogant. Arrogance was not a negative trait, but one he noticed quickly was different int heir actions.
"I will not speak of it, if that is your wish." he would not lie to his wife, but he did not have to tell her what he saw. It was a simple enough request. "Especially of the topic of your drawing." It was not said in judgement, but assurance. Simon was not about to tell his wife he had seen the dressmaker naked.
Simon did not know of how siblings were, but he had witnessed the Bridgerton Brigade's passion at . . . . existing. He could well imagine that if they knew that one of them had a secret that they all would try to discover and meddle in his affairs.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 13, 2021 0:14:13 GMT
Simon took his seat and declined the offer of tea from a servant who offered it. He had already eaten and knew better than to eat heavy or drink a lot before a long ride. There were not many places to stop, and while he did not mind going on the side of the road--he did not intend to do so before his young sister-in-law.
He was used to the Bridgerton Brigade--mostly--by this point, and enjoyed their warm welcome of him into their family. However, he question of playing games caught him off guard. Simon had no younger siblings, nor had he spent a large amount of time around other children when he was younger. He was not sure he had ever played traveling games. "I can not say I have ever played some." He admitted, and waited for her to stand before he would stand up. @
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 13, 2021 0:05:37 GMT
Simon was a fairly intelligent man, and he could make an assuption that if one needed to ask such a question that one was aware of the 'Bridgerton Passion' for protecting their own. While he was not aware of how much Crane knew about it, he assumed that words were said at the least.
Folding his arms over his chest, and making his stance more at ease by widdening his feet, Simon thought over his courtship with his wife. They did not admit to any of their ruse, but instead let it be what it was--a love match. Simon did not mind as that was how it ended after all. Or well, began.
"I could not say." A advantage? Disadvantage? Simon supposed it depended on the moment, the mood, the retelling, or even the candle lighting in the moment. "It did not kept him from shooting at me." Since Crane was family now they might as well be honest. Besides, Simon had every intention of asking him the same question shortly. |
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 12, 2021 23:44:07 GMT
Simon held his tongue that he too enjoyed passing his time with the view of pretty things. While he imagined she meant flowers and dandy men dressed to the nines--he was not. Wisely he knew better than to say such things to a debutante fresh from the school room. Looking over and down at her, he noticed her stare. Arrogantly, he knew she was looking at him and enjoying what she saw, though he also knew it meant nothing. She had her sights set on a husband, and she had made it clear that he was not such a man. Though, that did not mean he too enjoyed the sight of her pretty face.
Suddenly she left her wrist up, demanded that he button the cuff. Simon, caught off guard for he had never buttoned a lady's cuff before and never by demand, paused. Then he noticed the young bucks eyeing them from the grass. Clever girl.
Deciding to enjoy the moment, and feed the gossips, Simon looked at her face as his fingers lifted up to touch her wrist. The buttons were small, and smooth under his touch. He found he wondered what her skin felt like. For a moment, the imagine of her skin filled his mind as he looked from the buttons to her eyes. "Well played, Miss Bridgerton," he told her, letting his finger tips linger over the lace covered wrist for a moment, before letting it go. Anthony Bridgerton would kill him if he knew of Simon's thoughts in that moment. @
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 12, 2021 23:29:51 GMT
Once, Simon recalled, they had taken a stroll together and she had asked him what was between a man and a woman. He had told her, softly, about touching herself. Her innocence then had been expected, but what he had not expected was the seed that conversation had planted in his mind. A seed of wanting that had grown in size and power overt he idea of her touching herself in bed, of wanting to see it, and wanting to touch her himself. Hearing her on their wedding name, admit to burning for him. For him! To this moment were she innocently told him she was warm already, made him grin. Her fingers moving to his shirt.
As much as he wanted, and burned, to join her--he had been waiting since that conversation by the bridge to see this moment. "But you do not yet burn?" He asked her with mischief and amusement in his tone, knowing that was something he intended to correct swiftly. Reaching to still her nimble fingers, which had begun to remove his shirt, he stilled them before lifting them to his lips. Placing a kiss on each of her finger tips and then her palm, he returned her hand to the water.
His hand guided her hand under the water and to her skin. When her palm rested on her own belly, he guided her hand down between her legs while he explained his intentions. His voice growing deeper, and slightly rough as he felt his own need harden from the sight. "Then we much rectify this. I would have my wife burn for me, as she did on our wedding night." His fingers left her's, and pulled up over her skin until he could rest his hand on her belly. "Touch yourself, and think of me. As I think of you when I touch myself." He wanted to watch her, and see how she moved her own hand--and then he intended to take over.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Jun 12, 2021 23:06:18 GMT
There was little Simon would not do for his beloved wife. So while Daphne was expecting, Simon had gone to his Estate to settle a bit of business that would not wait. As he was already in the country, he traveled the extra to the Bridgerton estate to pick his wife's sister up and escort her to London.
He had spent little to no time with Eloise, and wasn't particularly comfortable spending two days in a carriage with her, however, he knew it was time to embrace the idea of a family. He wanted to try, rather then spend his life alone. Daphne had shown him that.
Simon had arrived late into the night, so he had not seen Eloise until this morning. Waiting in the hall for her to be ready. As she approached, he bowed his head in greeting. "Miss Bridgerton." Daphne's younger sister must look more like their father, and in turn Anthony, rather then Daphne. Though he knew not to comment on such things, as he hated it when people told him he looked like his own bastard father. Thought he knew the Bridgerton's loved their father, he would not begin by bringing up such things. "I trust you are well?"
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