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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 19, 2022 15:53:04 GMT
The music continued not that Thomas paid it much mind. The steps of the dance pulled him away briefly, and then in the next measure he was back at her side turning gracefully with one gloved hand raised to just barely touch hers. It seemed to capture the essence of what courtship was like. Touching, but not quite. Close, but always with the reminder that they couldn't be too close for too long. Simple turns showed off elegance and poise more than flashy flourishes. After all, just like with a Bach piece, it was impossible to hide imperfection in plain simplicity.
"And I yours. I must assure you, my interests in your has nothing to do with Miss Cowper nor anyone else." He had no complaints about her dancing thus far, and it seemed that she'd been raised well as a proper young lady ought. Her status was a mere bonus on top of a suitable personality and appearance. While he usually preferred women with more wit and intelligence, so far, he had no way of knowing otherwise.
"Indeed I do. And I would enjoy hearing you play. If it pleases you, my lady, I should like very much to call on you. Unfortunately, I am engaged tomorrow to look at a racehorse, but the day after certainly. Had I known I'd meet such a fine young lady as yourself, I would not have made those plans. But alas." He said nothing of his time in India to avoid sounding like a braggart. And the comment about the horse gave him some kind of personality. It was the truth, all of it. And his friend had specifically requested his company in judging whether a yearling was worth buying. "Do you sew or draw as well?" Secretly, he hoped it was the latter so that they'd have more to talk about, and he felt certain that she had to do at least one of those options as a refined lady. In his expression and tone, it was clear that he was interested in her for her. It was almost a shame that he wasn't planning on asking for a second dance. But opinions could change, and the glances from his sister were only encouraging.
Tagged: @caroline
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 19, 2022 15:16:50 GMT
Thomas watched her with the intensity of a teacher. There was nothing more to it and no ulterior motive. He knew his horse and how he'd handle, and it really was by luck that he'd chosen to take old Tristan out for the morning instead of a fresher horse. The stallion's ears flicked back and forth listening to his new driver and keeping up a steady pace. He was an honest worker and put his weight into the traces with a well arched neck. He stayed on the bit, and the steady trot created a most pleasing rhythmic sound of hooves clopping on cobblestones.
"Brilliantly. And I don't say that lightly. There, keep your elbows close to your sides like you were riding. Unless of course, you wish to jab your passenger in the ribs." He smiled and watched the horse's movement for a few moments before returning his attention to his student. "See how he's dropped his right shoulder? You should be able to feel some slack in the right rein. It's rather natural for a horse to want to drift to the side of the road. He's also putting more weight in his front end which will cause his gait to appear heavy and lopsided. It's similar to when you're riding. You want the horse's fore to be light and free to move. Shorten the top rein about half an inch just until he picks the weight up off his right shoulder. The reward to giving in to pressure is the release of that pressure."
So far, she hadn't objected to the longer explanations, and Thomas was always of the opinion that knowing the why of something was just as important as the how. He watched how she responded carefully, and Tristan was more than biddable given the proper direction. The stretch of road continued on, but there was a sharp intersection with the park still on their right side. At this hour, the streets were still quiet, so thankfully, no else saw them sitting together. "Shorten the reins an inch to collect his trot, and then tap his right side to let him that he's about to turn. He'll lift his right shoulder, and you'll feel a bit of slack in the left rein. Shorten it just until you feel contact with the bit again. That will keep him balanced through the turn. Once you're ready for the turn, reach forward with your right hand and shorten the right rein to turn his head. Hold it until the horse is through the turn. The carriage follow where the horse goes. Release the extra pressure on his mouth from both reins, and then you can click your tongue to ask him back into a livelier trot."
It was a lot to explain, but it was nearly the same as with riding. The motions and principles were the same, only the reins were significantly longer. The whip acted as a replacement for leg aids, and the preparation from the driver was necessary to keep him from putting too much weight on his front end and losing balance. Power came from the hind end, and a horse that put too much weight on the fore looked unbalanced. Form followed function and function followed form.
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 19, 2022 2:20:33 GMT
 CAPTAIN THOMAS ANTHONY PAUL TAWNEY, 5TH EARL OF WARRINGON INFO AGE twenty nine
GENDER male
SEXUALITY heterosexual
RANK nobility
OCCUPATION army captain
BIO link
TRACKER link
TAG @thomastawney
FACE blake ritson
EQUESTRIAN, GENTLEMAN, REBELLIOUS, ROMANTIC
| TRAITS |
S U M M A R Y Thomas is the new bachelor and earl in the ton. He's just returned from India to take up the mantle of earl from his father who died almost a year ago. He's the black horse in the marriage market, but strangely, a quick marriage isn't what he's after. He's a horseman through and through and holds a deep fondness for sports and hunting. At social gatherings, he plays the part of earl beautifully, though he finds it stifling and hates all the rules imposed by society. Away from the judging looks of others, he relaxes to a much more rebellious self who is willing to throw rules to the wind to do what's needed in the moment. He has two sisters, both married, and a cousin to help him navigate the social world after spending so long away from home. Trust Thomas to always be found near his horse, outside, or with a pencil and sketchbook in his hands. F R I E N D S H I P S Being new the ton, Thomas doesn't have a lot of friends. Most of his current acquaintances come from connections through his family or people he knew prior to his military career. He's always open to meeting new people and making new friends. He attends events throughout the Season like any good gentleman would do, though his real heart lies in being outside and drawing. For people who share at least some of his passions, he's easy to get along with. When he's really himself, there's a strong rebellious streak that doesn't care about the dictates of society, and he'd rather do what he enjoys without caring about the rules and etiquette. E N E M I E S Not everyone finds the person they like under the mask to be pleasant or agreeable. He'll speak his mind when it's appropriate, and he's competition for the hand of other young women. He cares greatly about his family and will stand up for them no matter what the potential cost to his reputation. His position as an outside to the ton could also garner some suspicion. Without a strong social network, it's easy for rumors to fly and not enough people who can talk to him directly to find out the truth. Thomas also cares more about his animals than people, and he isn't afraid of step on any toes when it comes to ensuring their welfare. L O V E R S Thomas doesn't have love at the forefront of his mind, but that doesn't mean he won't look at the ladies. He understands that part of his duty as the new earl is to find a suitable countess and produce heirs. After all, that's what his father and grandfather did before home. He is looking for a love match, preferably with someone who can keep up with his active nature and holds a similar fondness for animals. As one of the eligible bachelors in the ton, he's also on the receiving end of quite a few mamas hoping that their daughters will be the one for him. Thomas is willing to give everyone one dance, and his genteel airs mask the kind of person he really is. CURRENT NEEDS
| FRIENDS, ENEMIES, COURTSHIP, ACQUAINTANCES
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THANK YOU HANNAH FROM ADOXOGRAPHY |
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 18, 2022 23:59:34 GMT
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 18, 2022 18:21:46 GMT
Thomas let out a bright laugh. He liked her personality and carefree nature. She reminded of him his little sister who'd throw the rulebook to the wind if anyone let her. In truth, he thought this young lady already had. "Well, then, I see we are agreed on that matter." She reminded him of a formerly feral cat. Well brushed and fed with a pretty bow about her head, but the days in forest meant she remembered she had claws and wasn't afraid to remind everyone of that. It was truly refreshing from the other young ladies in the ton, and while he didn't see her as anything other than a mere acquaintance, he hoped that society was small enough that they'd run into each other again. It didn't even matter to him that he didn't know her name. Thomas resolved on calling her a wildcat in his own head for that's what she was most like.
"I suppose that would make us both ne'er do wells, but don't worry. I shan't say a word." He smiled at the soft jest, and he being out early didn't bother him. "Come, you say that you've ridden horses before. Make yourself comfortable, and you can rest your feet against the buckboard if you so desire." He passed her the reins and helped thread them through the fingers of her left hand. The right and now bottom rein sat between her third and fourth fingers while the left and top rein was held between the second finger and thumb. The rest of the loop fell easily in the palm. The whip was held upright in the right hand with the lash over the horse's back but not touching.
"The horse is Tristan. He's a bit heavy in the mouth these days due to his age, but he's seen everything the London streets could offer. He's safe as can be, and you're in good hands." The horse's ears flicked back listening for any cues. "To move forward, tap the horse's back with the whip. A couple more taps if you want to move faster into the trot. To stop, reach forward with your whip hand, grasp both reins, and pull back towards yourself in a steady motion. Release the pressure once he slow down. To turn left or right such as through a corner, tap the side you want to turn to first, then reach up and grab one rein with your whip hand and pull it back slightly to turn his head. Release once he's through the turn. For small corrections in turning such as to follow the road, just move your rein hand back to go left and forward to go right. If you need to shorten the rein, pinch the spot where you want your rein hand to be with the whip hand and slide the rein hand up. To loosen the rein, just loosen your grip and slide back to the desired length. Does all of that make sense?"
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 18, 2022 17:10:23 GMT
Thomas stuck to the easy steps and continued counting out the beats. He wasn't trying to be condescending or mock her lack of experience dancing. Quite the opposite. Familiar steps could make her look good as his partner and for anyone not staring directly at their feet, they were keeping up with the dance. He kept the spins to a minimum, and frankly, neither of them needed to show off to the ton that they were dancers worthy of going on stage. He thought she was good at following and looked happy in that role. Some women had their opinions in how to dance, and two leaders was just as bad as two followers.
For better or for worse, Thomas didn't know about the rest of the competition amongst women. He name Miss Cowper meant nothing to him. "And why should I want to do that? I have a beautiful dove in front of me here. But that is only if you don't find my company too unpleasant." He paused only to continue counting the steps and enjoying the dance. The other partners mostly left them alone, though there were still some surprised looks of the two of them being on the dance floor.
The beat remained easy to follow which Thomas was grateful for. It made him look better at picking up a tune than he was. "What do you enjoy, Lady Caroline? I should like to find something you find pleasing for the next time I call on you."
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 18, 2022 14:42:50 GMT
Horses were one of the few things Thomas could go on all day about. He loved dearly as work animals and intelligent creatures. Any horse treated well would try for its master, and aggression was a sign of bad handling more than a bad temper. But even a bad horse could be brought around. Not all vices were curable, but many were trainable and manageable. The odd creature who was trying too far gone was a tragedy created by man.
"Truly, it's no inconvenience to me. My batman won't mind my absence until dark. And if I must be frank, the thought of spending all morning courting ladies with flowers she'll throw away at the end of the day and gifts she won't look at again is rather unappealing. Apologies, Miss, if you do enjoy those things. I promise you no ill will, and I shan't whisk you away to parts unknown." He half stood in the buggy and picked up a wool blanket from the passenger side. In an effort to protect her clothes as his were already ruined, he lay out the blanket so it covered the back and seat of the bench. It was a clean place to sit, and then he clambered down out the other side to assist her getting in.
"Pardon my boldness, are you often out so early in the morning? Hardly any stores are open this hour, so I can't imagine there's much shopping to be had. Of course, I don't mind. It's merely surprising." He smiled and offered out his hand to her once she was ready to ascend into the buggy. It was a small black vehicle really only meant for two people. The four wheels gave it stability, and the whole carriage sagged slightly under uneven weight.
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 18, 2022 14:13:30 GMT
As with many gentlemen, married and otherwise, Thomas took up a membership at White's with the goal of making new friends and having someplace to go that wasn't going to end in determined mamas shoving daughter after daughter at him. Some looked eager enough to court him, others weary of being tossed at any bachelor in the hopes of a bite like a fisherman who cast his rod too many times and each time expecting the big one. And then there were those who sought his money and title and didn't care much the owner of either. Only a select few of the ton had even been to his estate and those were all from his pre-army days. Anna, now married, hosted events in Westminster or Sussex for her husband was a member of Parliament. And Sohphia was the sort to avoid hosting anything of her own. Thomas turned his head from his sketchbook hearing his name. There was a mostly untouched glass of whiskey in front of him, he was working on a sketch of a cape Buffalo standing alone before a blocked out lion. It was still a work in progress. "Good day, Bridgerton. And I fear it's been too long. I returned to our fair shores not too long ago. Just in time for the start of the season. I see a lot has changed in my absence." He gestured towards the free chairs around the the round table to sit and closed his book. "How fares you? I do hope you don't hold the same opinion for all men as you did that last gentleman." He let out a soft good natured laugh. Thomas looked relaxed and rolled his pencil back and forth idly across the table one finger length at a time. The earl was quite sure they'd met hearing Anthony's voice, and he assumed the other was simply in want of more pleasurable conversation. Other gentlemen were to absorbed in their newspapers or drinks to be of any interest. "I heard your family was quite fortunate last season. A duchess! You must be very proud, though I'm certain you've heard the congratulations a thousand times by now." Thomas took a polite sip of his whiskey having remembered it was there for once. It wasn't intentional neglect, but it was all too easy to drift off thinking about art. And the fiery young lady he'd met not too long ago still drifted in his mind. Tagged: Anthony Bridgerton |
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 17, 2022 20:38:53 GMT
"It's a great past time. In the city, a buggy is sufficient. A chaise is more a woman's vehicle should she wish to drive herself. Or you could hook up near any horse to a gig provided they've been trained to work under harness." He lowered his voice and glanced back to the driver. "Out in the country, if you have any sense of spirit, a phaeton drawn by a pair. You might as well be flying across the fields, and each bump in the trail is enough to send you flying from your seat." Thomas straightened up and let a bit of slack go in his reins to tell Tristan they weren't ready to set off quite yet. "There's a lot more out there than hansoms and stagecoaches that you've been used, too, Miss."
He smiled at her question about how to learn to drive one. So, she was indeed curious and had never been given the choice. Thomas moved hos horse a few steps forward and more properly to the side of the road so that other vehicles could pass. He had a light touch on the reins, and even with the whip, it was like he and the horse held the same opinion. The stallion stopped easily with one set of wheels pushed up over the edge of the road to maximize the amount of space available to others.
"To learn, you would have to find a teacher. It's easier than riding, and I've seen lads with no riding talent pick up the reins of a cab. The horses are well trained to hear and feel the weight of the carriage behind them. I think it would be kinder if they didn't have to wear blinkers, but it keeps them focused on their jobs, and some horses spook at the sight of their own carriage." He demonstrated a little bit turning Tristan's head from side to side with a touch of the reins in his hand and bringing his head up and then letting it back down in the same manner. "It's more polite than most would have you think. Imagine, a young woman and gentleman are suddenly caught in the rain and must return her home in good heath. Walking is no option, it'll take too long. They hadn't planned for the weather and lack horses. But a nearby cab is there with no driver. The driver could be anywhere or getting drunk in the pub. Pile her into the safety out of the rein and drive her home. The cab can always be returned."
Thomas glanced over at the footmen. "If your staff agrees, I could show you how it's done. Not far, not for long. Just around the park and back. Ten minutes at most. Tristan is a safe horse. He's seen everything, and Napoleon himself won't spook the creature."
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 17, 2022 4:28:58 GMT
Thomas found it impossible not to feel a bit heartened at her youthful enthusiasm. He struggled to imagine why she didn't have more suitors. She had the beauty of faerie and the enthusiasm of a Golden Retriever. Neither were bad qualities to have. In the brief lull between pieces, the earl offered out her arm to her and led her to the dance floor. If there were any new dances, he was hopeless at knowing the steps. But from what he'd seen thus far in his observations and commentaries with the other men, there was nothing he didn't already have a decent grasp of. He stood in front of the young woman as they waited for the orchestra to start. "Certainly. I'm not nearly so far removed from Society that I've forgotten how to dance in my years abroad." He lightly touched her arm as the music started, and for a few moments, he had to focus on picking out the beat. To any observer, it looked no different than anyone else taking a moment to just enjoy the music and feel it. For Thomas, there was considerably more work to sift through the different lines to find what he thought was the melody.
"I wouldn't mind at all." Thomas lowered his voice so that she'd be the only to hear him whisper the beats. "One-two-three. One-two-three." The steps on the downbeat in time with the music gave the illusion that he had a better sense for the whole thing than he did. And while Thomas wasn't someone who'd be taking home blue ribbons in a dancing competition, he was coordinate enough to be able to lead Caroline and avoid stepping on any toes. "One-two-three. One-two-three."
"I see I've been missing out on the charms of London Society, Lady Caroline. Or I never would have met such a fair creature as yourself. It would seem your mother is acquaintances with my sister, so perhaps we'll see each other on other days, too." He failed to notice a few eyes watching them. Some were attached to looks of displeasure and pity. Thomas remained blissfully ignorant and enjoyed his time dancing and leading Caroline. It was fun, and so long as wasn't prone to theatrics on the dance floor, he was enjoying himself. The music largely faded into the background as he continued to count the steps under his breath. And in the moments when he couldn't speak, he kept the beat by lightly tapping her palm when they were close enough to touch.
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 16, 2022 22:45:39 GMT
"Often enough. It's far quicker than sending for a wagonwright to fix it. The repairs aren't too difficult so long as the horse doesn't spook or move, though fitting the correct size pin and clips takes a bit more knowledge than greasing and tightening a loose hub. Besides, I believe it's the fairer trade to inconvenience a few people over the course of fifteen or twenty minutes than everyone for a day." Thomas was calm and unbothered by the situation. It had resolved itself. His buggy was now fit to be driven again, and anyone coming through later in the day would be none the wiser.
The girl intrigued him, though. He didn't think many were interested in carriages or their maintenance except that they had them and they worked. She almost looked interested in what he had to say moreso than she was concerned about his possible station. Nor was she put off by being a young woman without, so far as he could see, a female companion. From his experience, women weren't usually interested in driving either, though the thought crossed his mind that this young lady might agree to learning, if anyone ever offered. She clearly came from a wealthy family judging by not only her attire, but the condition of her carriage and the uniform of the driver. Beyond that, he couldn't be certain.
At the question of his driver, Thomas let out a an amused laugh. It was mirthful rather than mocking, and he shook his head before replying. "No, I wished to go for a drive alone. My driver is at home. I prefer the feeling of the reins in my hand and the chance to turn down whichever street I choose without needing to declare my intentions or be subject to the judgement of another. Well, another person. I trust Tristan to avoid roads with loose stones or to stop before turning down some dangerous alley." There was passion in the way he spoke with a firm belief in the kind of independence driving offered. He spoke of his horse with affection and trust. For an animal who said no words, Thomas knew how to watch the flick of an ear, pressure on the bit, and the way the horse moved. That told him enough, and a horse could never lie.
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 16, 2022 20:41:28 GMT
The pin finally came loose, and in his search, he'd also noticed a cracked axle clip that was one hard bump away from breaking itself. He worked as quickly as he could replacing the pin and the clip, though it still took some time given the awkward angle. Thomas was forced to reach up around the fifth wheel lest he risk getting his hand stuck in it. The clip was a slightly faster repair, and it unsurprisingly broke in his hand once he'd pulled it out. A fresh clip was hammered into place, and he heard another carriage come to stop behind him. Followed by a female voice. He couldn't quite make out the words with all his attention focused on the underside of the buggy.
Thomas wormed his way out from under the buggy holding the toolbox and the broken pieces. He looked the most like a muddied dog with his brown hair sticking in clumps to his face and grease from the axle on his hands and shirt cuffs. As for being a driver, there was still no master in sight. "My apologies for the inconvenience, Miss. Unfortunately, yes. Part of the front axle near the fifth wheel broke, and I had no way to turn the buggy without breaking it further. It's fixed well enough, now." He dumped the broken pieces into the toolbox and pushed it back under the seat. With his back turned towards Eloise, it was clear that his clothes were either ruined or would take a lot of work to clean.
But the mud and grime didn't seem to bother him as he checked over the traces and patted the horse for standing still so patiently. "I won't trouble you much longer, Miss. And you have my sincerest apologies if I've greatly disrupted your morning." Satisfied with the horse's condition and the tack, Thomas climbed up into the buggy and picked up the reins and whip. He looked ready to drive off without waiting for anyone, and now the upholstery bore mud stains.
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 16, 2022 20:08:37 GMT
Thomas spent most of the evening in the company of other gentlemen. He planned on spending the entire evening like that, and his social circle was slowly expanding. His older sister, Anna, was also in attendance in search of something to do for the evening other than sit at home with her young children. She introduced her brother to a few of the other married women with the hopes that some of them would have an eligible daughter or knew an eligible young woman who could become the next Countess of Warrington. The daughter of a duke was certainly more than suitable solely on account of pedigree.
He'd only just thought he'd escaped the introductions and felt sure that he wouldn't be able to remember even half of the names and titles thrown at him come morning. His other acquaintances were all standing in a group on the other side of the room sipping wine and watching the other couples dance in the center of the room. But, his reality of escape was that of a goldfish swimming desperately for an image of aquatic weeds on the other side of the glass and then realizing that there was a very solid barrier between the confines of the tank and freedom.
The young earl found himself staring down at Caroline and the hasty introduction took a solid two seconds to fully register amid the drone of a violin and a bigger violin held between the legs. The name of such an instrument escaped Thomas's memory. She was a pretty creature, that much was evident. Meek or shy, it was hard to tell which in his lack of experience with women. "Enchanted, Lady Caroline." His voice had a slight rasp to it from a career of shouting at the top of his lungs, but it wasn't an irritating sound. He held himself well with a pleasing enough countenance given that he knew nothing of her other than her mother was a duchess.
"May I have the next dance with you?" It was the only question he could ask with multiple pairs of eyes, the duchess and his sister included, watching them. Anything else would have immediately raised concerns that he found her hideous, and she was anything but. Part of him lamented being able to retreat back to the safety of his fellow gentlemen, but he was comforted in the fact that he was only obliged one dance if he found her ability too disagreeable.
The music was nearly at an end, and he forced himself to pay attention to the rhythm of the sound he heard. He'd learned to pick out a steady beat by sheer force of necessity. One-two-three-four was doable. And once he'd found the beat, it was just a matter of remembering it. One-two-three-four like the steady roll of a drum.
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Captain Lord Warrington
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 16, 2022 17:55:46 GMT
The spacious wooden hall had been transformed from a studio into a gallery. Bright sunlight streamed down from the high windows, and the walls were lined with paintings. Everything in the gallery was produced by the students from the Royal Academy of Art. For some, the art show was a chance to show off their finest and more recent works. For others, there was the hope that some wealthy patron might take notice and request a commission. For George Strickland, he was firmly in the latter group. He was a scrappy young man with blonde hair that was determined to grow in any direction but down, and his large blue eyes had the misfortune of giving him a perpetually alarmed look. He came from a family with poor connections and not much standing though they counted as gentlemen and owned land. As a younger son, his prospects for anything were low, and he put all his hope on being able to survive by his art. He extended an invitation to his childhood friend, Thomas, in the hopes of reconnecting beyond a few letters a year. They attended Harrow School together and were assigned to the same house. As boys, they were willing to overlook any class differences that might have kept them apart as adults, and by the time they were old enough to care that others thought about their stations, they were already friends. George patted Thomas's arm and left to find a couple flutes of champagne while they finished their tour of the gallery. Thomas continued his slow perusal of the various pieces. It was a mish mash of styles and subjects and talents. One piece was a still life of a fruit bowl, and the next poor man's attempt at a Baroque portrait. He stopped in front of one painting of a nude woman. She was beautiful with how the light touched her skin and the curls of her hair. The draped fabric in the background brought focus to her figure. George returned a minute later carrying two champagne flutes and handed one to Thomas. "Has something other than horses finally caught your eye? You're looking at her the same way you do fillies at Tattersalls." Thomas shot his friend a playfully annoyed look. "I do not. I can recognize skill when I see it. She reminds me of a Grecian statue or a painting by an Italian master.""And you would be the expert on both of those." George lowered his voice to a whisper. "Truly, I am sorry to hear about your father. I know this is presumptuous of me, yet I must say it. If you ever wish to clear your home of those busts and statues, do let me know." Thomas shook his head. The Greek and Roman marble wasn't a distressing reminder of the late earl, and they did make for good study works without leaving the comfort of home. George looked over his shoulder and spotted his classmate and the artist of the painting. He didn't know Benedict well and certainly wouldn't have called him a friend, but they were acquaintances by nature of being in the same class. He held no ill opinions towards Benedict, as an artist, there was no complaint. George broke away with a low promise to be back and strode over to his fellow. "Mr. Bridgerton, I may have found your newest admirer. Come, allow me to introduce you to an old friend." He barely waited for a response before fetching Thomas and nearly dragging him over. "Mr. Bridgerton, Lord Warrington. We were just looking at your contribution to the show." Thomas replied with a small smile through his otherwise somewhat stiff posture. "A pleasure. I'm glad to see that the Academy lives up to its reputation of producing fine young artists. You have a sharp eye for the softness of the female form." It was an unbridled compliment, and the praise was evident in his tone. Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton |
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Captain Lord Warrington
5th Earl of Warrington
Rank
Army Captain
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
Tag me @thomastawney
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Post by Thomas Tawney on Nov 16, 2022 15:04:20 GMT
The previous night's thunderstorm lifted the dreary stench of the city for a few hours. While it still wasn't country air, it did lift the mood of one lord who found himself missing the freedom of being away from civilization. Even the hot muggy smell of decaying undergrowth in India was almost preferable to dense London streets. Thomas summoned his buggy and one of the carriage horses to pull it. The dapple grey stallion stood out in sharp contrast with the black buggy with the leather top folded down given the sunny weather, and the gold accents on the tack gave the whole ensemble a rather striking appearance.
Thomas hauled himself into the lightly sprung buggy and waved off the servant who attempted to climb in beside him. He was more than capable of driving alone, and since returning to England, had barely a spare moment to be alone except for when he was sleeping. He set off at a brisk trot with the reins held lightly in one hand and the whip in the other. The lash barely touched the horse's back and sides, and even when he needed to ask for a bit more liveliness from his horse, he merely laid it across the horse's back rather than striking the poor creature.
He was an early riser, and the streets weren't overly crowded at a time when many others would still be taking breakfast following a night of dinners and dances. The cobblestones rumbled under the buggy's wheels, and the West End was still much the same as how he remembered it as a youth. Some of the shops had changed ownership, but that was a minor difference. He made a mental note to ask his sister about the 'new' modiste, though any time within the past ten years was hardly new to rest of Society. Thomas turned down a few more streets towards the park where the ladies and gentlemen would promenade in a few hours time. But now, only the ducks and geese were strutting about showing off their best plummage.
There was a sharp crack and jolt as the buggy passed over a hole in the road that was filled in by rainwater. The stallion's ears flicked, and he raised his head in the traces as the balance in the buggy suddenly changed. Thomas stopped the horse in the middle of the road which had yet to be cleaned from the previous day and jumped from his seat. The horse calmed easily under a gentle hand and a few soft pats. Sure that the creature wouldn't spook, Thomas crawled under the buggy to assess the damage. He frowned at the broken pin on the front axle. The rust told him enough that it hadn't been properly maintained. Without a servant or any way to safely to get the buggy back home, he was left with only one option. The pin needed to be replaced here and now.
He pulled the toolbox from its place underneath the seat and crawled back under the buggy. It was a tedious process trying to find a spare pin that would fit well enough for a roadside repair, and he hardly had a change to begin removing the broken one before he heard shouting for him to get his nag off the road. Followed by the clatter of wheels and a sharp comment that he was lucky that his master wasn't here to see such disgraceful behavior from one of his staff. Thomas stayed under the buggy as he worked with only his legs sticking out to the side and visible. He wore cream breeches with tall brown boots that hinted at someone with money, though not necessarily his own. The muddied edge of his navy blue coattails were also just visible. With the horse standing at a slight angle, the road was effectively blocked to larger coaches, but a horse and rider or even a chaise could pass by. There was a thin layer of mud across the road that splattered the wheels of the buggy and the horse's fetlocks. And for the man laying in it, his entire back.
Tagged: @eloisebridgerton
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