lady cavendish

 “I haven’t a single ill-word for your gardening dress, my Lady - but I offer a gentlemen’s apology, for my disturbance of your peace.” He had not intended to steal upon the scene like a thief in the night ; merely, in his own sense of reverie, his arrival had been more subtle than he was accustomed to. Sweeping expanses of green, peppered with bright spots of flowers and tumbled vines, were one of the most attractive facets of any estate. Gabriel, lounging with a self-satisfied ease of a true gentleman, had taken his time on the Devonshire estate, allowing the tips of his fingers to caress a petal here, a petal there. “Bumbling intruders such as myself set aside, I trust you to be in merry spirits? Good health? I do believe custom dictates me to inquire after a third aspect of existence, but it alludes me now - you have my full permission to flog me later, for failing you so.” 

"You're too kind Duke Marlborough, and please do not apologize, I’m always in need on company.” She smiled kindly at the duke. If Lydia had her way she would always be surrounded by friends and she cared little for solitude, it was one of the reasons she enjoyed gardening, she liked being able to work with her hands, it kept her distracted and entertained. “I’ll confess I can’t recall either. How about it is our little secret?” She said, pealing off the leather gloves she used for gardening. “Yes very merry indeed, I’m happy to be back in London, and you My Lord?”

When Lydia envision her future she sees a lot of laughter, time spent outside during the warm weather and curled up by the fire in the cold,  she sees herself hosting many functions at Chatsworth and Devonshire House like her mother used to, surrounded by her many friends. Sometimes she even imagines children, they looked so much like her and her brother when they were younger. However she has never been able to imagine herself with a husband, or being in love. 

      ––– HENRIETTA LOWERED HER CHIN in acknowledgment to the young woman; though unwed, Lydia Cavendish wielded greater power in her pinky finger as the sister to the Duke of Devonshire than most women did as the wives of influential lords and politicians. Perhaps the Countess might envy her ranking, but then again–– she found the Earldom of Jersey to suit her quite well, and James, for all his faults, was an agreeable spouse. ❝ A woman like Miss Temple hasn’t the privilege of being wise; no, women with reputations like hers must not be too choosy. You yourself are unwed, Lady Cavendish–– tell me, is the Season exciting for you, or do you dread the potentiality? ❞

A tight smile stretched Lydia's lips and she was thankful that her mask hid how her eyes narrowed. “No I am not yet plagued with a husband just yet.” Though I do enjoy your husband’s company, just not mine, she thought somewhat maliciously. Often times she tried to imagine that Henrietta Villier did not exists, and when she was confronted by her flame’s wife she couldn’t help but feel the bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth, despite the fact that she was in the wrong. It was all terribly wicked of her. “Nor am I looking, I must confess I enjoy being unwed, and what could a husband give me that I do not already have?”

It was a pity that the two of them hadn’t become entangled in silk sheets yet, but James could understand why. He had taken plenty of married women into his bed before, and the main risk was of their husbands finding out; but an unmarried woman like Lydia risked any chance she had of marrying at all if it were found out. But he could restrain himself for the sake of her reputation. Although, the two of them weren’t exactly behaving virtuously at the moment.

His voice was almost a purr as he left a trail of kisses along her collarbone, within dangerous range of her gown’s neckline but staying just out of its way. “And isn’t my wickedness your favourite thing about me?” He released one hand’s grip on her waist and slid it up her back, trailing along her spine until he reached her golden curls and idly twirled one around his finger. “And this is me attempting to behave myself. Can you imagine what I would do if I was truly unrestrained?”

"I can think of a few other things that I value above your wickedness." She sighed, angling her neck to grant him better access to the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. “Your wit is very enjoyable.” Her voice was low and horse as she spoke, her fingers playing with the soft hairs as the nape of his neck. “As is your –– Oh.” She gasped when his lips reached her color bone, and she felt herself go weak in the knees, completely forgetting her chain of thought. This was the horrible trouble with James Villiers, he made her lose every inch of composure she possessed. If she was a stronger woman she would push him away and send him back to his wife, but unfortunately she powerless when it came to James.

“Yes, I can imagine.” She said pulling away from him slightly, the back of her head bumping against the tree trunk as she attempted to catch her breath. “I’m afraid I can imagine all too well.” She could never reveal to him the visions she conjured up at night, visions where he didn’t restrain himself and she wasn’t bound to virtue. Or even worse, the visions when he wasn’t married at all, and they could enjoy each other company without risk or guilt. “Perhaps I should call for my brother? Tell him how I was overpowered by a brute”

Creatures took human form by day, roaming from Hyde Park to the Thames riverbanks, then shed their thin layers of skin and thick layers of linen, wool, silk to embrace their true nature once more as night blanketed London. Tonight, the Almack’s resembled more the fitting forest for an Oberon and Titania. Mythical spectres hovered, laughed, revelled, their masks accentuated by the sickly tangerine glow and ghoulish candlelit shadows as flames danced throughout the masquerade ball. Nestled behind her plumage, Amelia’s infamously puckish gaze sparked with renewed energy. Crackled at the notion of spending the evening with a temporary identity. Once, she took inflated pride whenever her identity relied on merely her face - sans formal announcement- upon entering an event. Now, she welcomed a rare chance to weave through society’s pawns unnoticed.

The evening rallied onward, her lips wet with sweet buzz of wine, causing a foxlike smirk to bounce as lithe frame meandered through crowds. Music picked up a with a refreshed song, and she rounded a corner to nearly collide with a masked counterpart. A pause, a slight wave of her fan, a slanted curtsy.  Her insatiable addiction to the push and pull of discourse could not be ignored. 

Her little game begins. 

“Now, what muse do I see before me?” Words more rhythmic, one could almost say teasing, but good-natured, as she speculated on their mask. “A force that  artists and poets could only dream of conjuring, no doubt, but how am I to address such a being tonight?

Amelia had done a fine job at concealing her identity from the average member of the court but Lydia was not the average member, and she had become very well accustomed her her sister in law’s voice and mannerisms over the many years that they have shared the same roof and last name.

Lydia was desperately fond of Amelia, always had been, ever since she married her brother when Lydia was only sixteen years old. Amelia was the sister that Lydia had always wanted and the two became fast friends, especially after the death of Lydia’s parents, and the young couple took up residence at  Chatsworth House. As Lydia and her brother grew farther apart, her and Amelia grew closer, and the younger woman was happy to have an ally when she came out to the court many moons ago. 

“A very powerful force indeed.” Lydia said, her lips twisting up in a sly smith, not doubting for a minute that her sister in law would fail to recognize her. “Perhaps you should address me as Cupid, for I fully intend on bringing together at least one happy couple tonight.” During her time at court Lydia had become a notorious matchmaker, and she prided herself in orchestrating some of the most happy, and lucrative matches the ton had seen. “And what shall I call you?”

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑.

       ––– AS THE ORCHESTRA GREW LOUDER, the heat in the room seemed to swell and in spite of the copious amounts of ratafia and champagne being served throughout Almack’s, the sudden swelter had reduced the Countess to little more than a blushing bride–– refusing Lord Palmerston her next dance in exchange for the ability to flee onto the balcony. Breezes from the Thames’ eased Henrietta’s reddening throat and the roseate tint to her cheeks, though within moments she found that she was not alone and turned to the newcomer, gracing them with a tight-lipped smile. 

❝ ONE WOULD BELIEVE WE WERE in the thick of summer with all the dancing and mingling ensuing inside, ❞ the Countess of Jersey remarked mildly, continuing with a more zestful, ❝ yet, perhaps the night’s success shall be a harbinger for a lucrative season to come! Tell me, have you any thought as to the potential engagements this year? I am no gambler, but I’d be willing to bet that John Temple’s daughters will be affianced before the night is through. ❞

The soles of Lydia's feet were beginning to ache from dancing and her breath was growing short. She knew that she was an ideal match for many of the gentleman of the ton but she hadn’t been prepared for how many would be trying to gain her favor. If only they knew the idea of marriage made her head spin and that they would only be joining the long list of dance partners who would never be able to gain her favor. The practical part of her brain knew that she should give one of them the time of day, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew that soon she would have to find a husband, but did it have to be tonight?

While she wasn’t usually wasn’t one to hide away at a party but she just needed a minute to breath. However the balcony wasn’t as deserted as she had hoped. “Well Miss Temple is putting her best foot forward tonight.” She said with a smile on her face. Someone should be making the most of the evening. “Though I did see Lord Cumberland prowling around her tonight and any wise woman would keep their distance from him.”

He had known what she would do as soon as they were out of sight of the house. Not that he was complaining. James had always been drawn more to the wilder and more passionate women. The demure and dainty ladies who hid coquettishly behind their fans could be fun for a short while, but a woman who could battle him in wits and wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted - now that was the sort of thing to capture his heart.

Her lips were petal soft against his own as he caught the familiar scent of her perfume drifting upwards from her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against his even as she broke their kiss but James paid little attention to that. As she spoke, his own mouth was concentrated elsewhere; kissing along her jawline and down her swan-like neck. “Hmm, my suspicions usually are correct.” His teeth grazed lightly against her collarbone as he murmured against her skin. “It takes a lot to surprise me now.”

Lydia sighed, feeling utterly blissful and wicked all at once. Lydia was a prideful and self assured woman, and she never imagined that she would be hiding in a garden in a married mans arms, doing perfectly sinful things. He hadn’t ruined her but if they were caught in such a state her reputation would surely be in tatters and she would have to say goodbye to any chances of a respectable marriage, not that she even wanted one. 

“Well then I will...”She trailed off, gasping when she felt his teeth drag against the sensitive of her neck. “I will have to work harder to surprise you for our next encounter.” Her voice was low and husky, practically unrecognizable from her regular sing-song tone. She should stop this, she should push him away and go running to her brother and beg him to send the Earl away. These were all things she should do but her body wouldn’t listen. “You are a perfectly wicked man.” She said before tangling her hands in his dark hair and pulling him close.

“How you do like to make me suffer.” James knew how to behave himself but being around Lydia certainly made it difficult. In his youth he would have been afraid to talk to a woman like her and would have blushed if she so much as looked in his direction. Funny how time could completely change a person. That nervous boy was still within him somewhere, but James rarely allowed him the opportunity to venture out. The ton were ruthless. One hint of vulnerability and they were like sharks circling in the water ready to tear a person apart.

It had been very risky to come here as James had no idea whether the Duke was currently in residence or not, but it was the thrill of it that drove him. The duke was likely too polite to cause much of a scene just by James being on the property, but the didn’t know how the man would react to him being so close to he duke’s sister. Then again, he wasn’t the only one taking risks as Lydia guided him behind a conveniently large and distant tree. “A fine old maple tree, my lady, but I suspect you didn’t drag me down here to discuss dendrology.”

Lydia laughed, the bell like sound filling the air. "It's only that torturing is such good fun.” She enjoyed teasing James, it was refreshing to have a companion who was a good opposition in battle of wits, something she found lacking in most men.

Once she was sure that no one would find them pressed against the maple tree she did what she had wanted to do since the moment she had laid eyes on him. She pulled him against her by his jacket, her back hitting the maple tree and pressed her lips against his. “You suspected correctly My Lord.” She said, pulling her lips away to catch her breath.

“It is a dangerous thing to trust anything to my imagination. It does like to run wild.” He smirked. It had been too long since they had last seen each other, but it was pleasing to see that their flirtatious banter remained the same. He knew that there was every chance she could grow bored of him, so he intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

At the mention of her brother, he chuckled, the sound low in his throat. There was no love lost between himself and the Duke of Devonshire as anyone with eyes could tell. James did get a kick out of toying with the Duke at every opportunity, however it was not the reason for his interest in the man’s sister, but it was definitely an added bonus that his relationship with her would torment her brother. His outstretched hand lightly brushed her shoulder, a fingertip slowly running along her arm until it came to rest on her hand. A harmless, tender gesture and yet also a tad improper - not something a married man ought to be doing. “I suspect not, otherwise he would already have come flying out of the house in a rage.” As if to prove his point, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. If the Duke had been watching them, they most definitely would have heard his cries of outrage.

“Well then I suppose you'll just have to control yourself won't you." She smiled at him knowingly. She would gladly tell him just what she thought would be appropriate to greet him in but she was she whatever he had in mind would be far more scandalous. Oh how she had missed him, and the way that his presence made a shock of energy go up her spine. She had written him a few times over the winter but it was nothing compared to having him here in front of her. Oh if only her brother would have him as a guest at their country estate, this winter wouldn’t have been so unbearable. 

It was good to be back in London again for The Season. As peaceful as the manor on Jersey was, the Earl found himself missing the thrumming hive of the city. There was always some form of entertainment; just last night he had won a small fortune in one of his preferred gambling dens. Then lost it, then won it back again. He had awoken in high spirits, albeit with a painful hangover, but a little hair of the dog had taken care of that for the time being.

Not everyone was thrilled to see him, but James knew where he could go and find a more than friendly face. He found her in the garden, as he’d expected, although she didn’t notice him until he was almost upon her. “Oh? And what would have been a more appropriate ensemble to greet me in?”

A small blush creeped up her delicate neck to her cheeks at his suggestive comment, but she squared her shoulders and didn’t look away. “Lets leave that to your imagination shall we, My Lord?” She said in a flirtatious tone, one eyebrow arching, smiling slyly at him. The Earl always brought out a mischievous side of her, had from the minute they had first moment they had been introduced during last years season.

She looked around to make sure that they were alone in the rose garden and far away from prying eyes before stepping a little too close to be considered proper. “Does my brother know that you are in my company?” She asked coyly, looking up at him, her sparkling blue eyes meeting his dark ones. Lydia was tall, some would say (but never to her face) unfashionably so but she still had to crane her head to meet James’s eyes.

She when tending to a pink and yellow dog-rose bush when she heard a twig snap underneath someones shoe. Turning around she was greeted by a familiar face. “Oh hello,” She said, giving her new companion a charming smile and hoped that she didn’t have any dirt smudged on her person that she didn’t know about. “I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t expecting any company, I would have put on something more appropriate.” She said looking down at her sage green gardening dress.  

title : Lady Cavendish

name : Lydia Marie Cavendish 

age & d.o.b. : 24 / August 28th 1766

faceclaim : Gabriella Wilde 

how is your character viewed by the ton? : When it comes to the hierarchy of young ladies in the ton, Lydia is among the upper echelon. Your status is boosted by Lydia bestowing her attention on you, but she could just as easily bring you down if she saw fit. She’s well liked, known for her cleverness, charm, status and taste. Though she’s very popular she is not a mean girl (unless she wants to be) and she prides herself on being well liked among her peers. She is very generous and genuinely kind to those she thinks deserves it but can be fake and cold to those she finds She likes to be the center of attention and works hard to hold her place as one of her most popular ladies in the ton, and doesn’t take kindly to people outshining her. Despite her status and popularity there are still whispers about the fact that she is still not married. 

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