They all had questions, and he had no answers to provide he didn’t feel obligated to entertain them before, nor did he now. Even if she were a Queen, he didn’t desire to hear the whispers of the ton reflected his way. He had always avoided her, especially since Minjun’s disappearance. Queen Charlotte had been flanked as per usual, speaking behind the veil of a fan. Instead, it was on the stanch pristine appearance of the garden surrounding them as they entered the luncheon. It wasn’t the fact that they were fashionably late, Leo tended to arrive so at events, not that he paid any mind. “If only my brother were here to see me, he would surely be speechless.” She whispered to Leo.Įverything from that day felt picturesque, lucid, as if he were dreaming. Reply to this post as if it were an open starter, and tell us how your character has prepared, if they are attending with their date (or meeting there), and how they feel about being terribly early (or & & & & & & + miss kitty + lord fitzwilliam fitzgerald Your carriage has arrived – are you early or late? There are no wrong decisions, here, but you must make one. The wind is fair on 13 July 1799, clouds puffy and breeze light as the doors of Almacks Assembly Rooms swing open. It’s here! The penultimate event of our Season: Queen Charlotte’s Luncheon – and, consequently, your first decision. The clocktower on Pall Mall rings out at quarter-till – or is it quarter-past? as a carriage rolls to a stop before the entrance. The luncheon – a daringly new affair – is meant for couples, but who is to say that a match cannot be made?

With them, they bring sisters, cousins, an unmatched son or two.

One by one, the ladies of Almacks arrive – the Marchioness, and the Lady Dame, and the Viscountess Castlereagh all sweep through the double doors and disappear inside, quick to assume their places as the high court of the assembly rooms. Manservants wait outside in their customary navy jackets, brass buttons polished to a bright shine, to assist with carriages as they arrive. Ribbons garland the iron fence, and two stone pillars are topped with overflowing bouquets of summer roses. Some effort has been taken for this event, however. Windows look sightlessly onto King Street, their panes reflecting the high blue of the sky and – more frequently – the bustle of Pall Mall. Almacks is an unassuming building, three stories tall with a stone front.

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