nathaniel dormer. baron dormer. 35. fc: tom austen. tag. intro. simon lennox. duke of richmond. 30. fc: lucien laviscount. tag. intro.

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@pursuitofpower
nathaniel dormer. baron dormer. 35. fc: tom austen. tag. intro. simon lennox. duke of richmond. 30. fc: lucien laviscount. tag. intro.

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An Evening Outside of Work // Nathaniel and Sophie
@pursuitofpower
Sophie looked around the ballroom with wide eyes. After being in The White Rabbit, especially its more sordid parts, Sophie found that she was not usually surprised, but the grandeur on display for all was truly a sight to behold. Privately, Sophie worried that the event would simply lead the working class to a more pronounced view of the grand divide between themselves and the upper class; she found that the thought left her ill at ease.
She found herself something to drink. Perhaps the alcohol would steady her nerves; she was loath to allow herself to dwell in pessimistic thoughts when she should be enjoying herself...even if the enjoyment would be under the influence.
She sipped from her glass and peered over the rim to find the view of her boss Nathaniel Dormer. She made her way over to him, marking her deference as she greeted him. "Baron Dormer, I must admit, it is odd to see you outside of The White Rabbit. You seem to be so dedicated to the work that I must say, it is odd to see you in this setting...forgive me.if I am being too bold for saying so." Maybe she had drank a little too quickly after all.
Nathaniel Dormer was not enjoying himself. When he'd begrudgingly accepted the invitation, at the behest (or rather, coercion) of his sister, enjoyment had not been chief among his goals for the evening; rather, his thoughts, as always, had been on business. Much as they currently were. The party had hardly even begun and he already found himself thinking of all the tasks that could have been completed in the time he was wasting here.
At the sound of his name, Nathaniel's gaze shifted to the woman standing before him. A White Rabbit attendant, he knew. "Yes, well." Nathaniel's voice dipped as he considered her words. In the years since Elise's death, he'd thrown himself into building the business. So, her statement hardly came as a surprise. "That is rather forward," he noted, "but I'll allow it." He gestured with one hand to the activity occurring around the ballroom. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
her husband's presence was one ceren was most thankful for. it meant that she would not be subjected to trivial conversations with other lords and their wives; simon's was a company that she would choose over anyone else's. "just enough glamour to please the ton and a little more to impress everyone else." she quietly hummed back beneath her smile, briefly waving at someone she knew. after all, the crown's reputation was at risk and maybe this was their way of keeping everyone happy — or well, their despearate attempt to. ceren pursed her lips, trying hard to hide the growing smile on her lips. she could hear the nagging voice of her mother, scolding her for briefly losing composure. "the idea sounds tempting. the children would surely still be awake if we leave now," indulging at the thought. "unfortunately, our appearance tonight is paramount. however no one can tell us otherwise what we do after our engagements here" the duchess whispered, letting out a small chuckle. "we might as well. just to get it over with. i know a lord somewhere is already boasting about his donations. indulge me, my lord, how much are we planning to the . . . cause?"
"Just enough glamour to mask the scent of rot," he agreed, "but for how long?" Among the wrong company, the question, rhetorical though it was, could be misconstrued. Simon had built a certain reputation -- one that he'd inherited from his father and his father before him after the family had been shamed by the Crown -- and while he knew that Ceren understood the sentiment, there was still a certain level of risk associated in being vocal in his distaste for the Royal family. It made the prospect of spending the evening in the company of their children that much more tempting.
With a sigh, Simon conceded the point. "You are quite wise, my dear," he commented, enjoying the shared sense of mischief between them. "After this, I think we're entitled to at least a few days sequestered away." When they'd first gotten married, Simon hadn't expected much from the arrangement. A companion, yes. Someone with whom he could share conversation, sure, but Ceren had quickly become a respected and dear friend to him; in the years since they'd wed, Simon could even say that he loved her. That particular emotion had been unexpected to say the least. "There's always one." If it had been anything other than less than proper, Simon would've rolled his eyes. Leave it to the peerage to flaunt their charitable givings. "To your question," he answered as he began the loop around the ballroom, "The exact amount is yet to be determined, a donation of any size is too much. Unfortunately, it simply won't do for anyone to suggest that the Duke and Duchess of Richmond are lacking in funds. Especially not for a charitable cause."
who: lady augusta, @dormernts where: in a secluded corner of the ballroom
If Nathaniel had had his way, he would have spent the evening in his study pouring over the books, but he'd promised his sister that he would attend the damned event, and so, here he was. He'd purposefully sequestered himself in a corner of the ballroom in hopes that he would remain unseen by the most social members of the peerage, namely the mothers who were determined to offload their talentless churlish daughters on an eligible widower. The very thought of it caused Nathaniel to balk. "I will not be entertaining offers this evening," he reiterated for his sister. The younger Dormer sibling was far more social than the elder and Nathaniel shuddered at the thought of Augusta casting her attentions on his marital status. "Truth be told, I'm hardly even interested in pursuing business matters tonight."
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 for simon ( @pursuitofpower ) location : ballroom at st. james palace
it was funny to think that not so long ago, this was ceren's life — full of glamorous balls and glittering gowns. upon entering the ballroom, she was transported back to when she was a debutante herself, out on her first season. as a young girl, that was the moment she had dreamed and waited for. she wondered how she had the energy and capacity to attend all those social events back then; those days were far behind ceren. now, her focus was on her family and the goals they had especially if they played their cards right. dark brown hues trailed the dancing figures in the center of the ballroom as the duchess' delicate gloved hand rested comfortably on her husband's arm. "the king certainly spared no expense," ceren hummed quietly as she plastered on a smile. "how ironic. throwing a lavish ball to raise money when the money spent here could have been used elsewhere. have we made our donation? i hear the king expects members of the peerage to donate." of course he does. "i would much rather spend the night with the children than be here."
The sound that escaped Simon's mouth was one of distain as his gaze tracked over their surroundings. With his wife's hand resting on his arm, the Duke found himself feeling content even amidst the lavishness and over-extravagance of the event. "No expense spared, it would seem," he replied out of the corner of his mouth, careful to keep a small smile on his face just in case. It simply wouldn't do for someone to glimpse the Duke and Duchess of Richmond appearing conspiratorial.
"That truly sounds like a much better way to spend our time." Simon leaned in and lowered his voice. "It's not too late for us to leave," he suggested. It was mostly a joke, but there was a hint of longing in the statement. A quiet evening at home with his wife and children. What a man wouldn't give for the simple pleasures in life, but decorum had demanded their attendance. He rested his other hand on top of hers as his rested on his arm, patting it once, before straightening up to his full height once more. "Donations have yet to be made. Shall we make our rounds and rectify that?"

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━━ ⊰ [ lucien laviscount, 30 , cisgender man, he/him ] the ton is buzzing ! have you heard ? SIMON LENNOX , DUKE OF RICHMOND has arrived in mayfair ! i’ve been told that he is + CHARMING & ELOQUENT but are also - SECRETIVE & AMIBITIOUS but we shall more know about them throughout the season. they aim to RESTORE HONOR TO THEIR FAMILY NAME before the season ends. we cannot be too sure but it is said that their loyalties lie WITH THEIR FAMILY. how true ? we are yet to find out. [ ann , 30 , she/her , est, n/a ]
━━ ⊰ [ tom austen, 35, cisgender man, he/him ] the ton is buzzing ! have you heard ? NATHANIEL DORMER , BARON DORMER has arrived in mayfair ! i’ve been told that he is + CLEVER & ADAPTIVE but are also - MANIPULATIVE & SELF-DESTRUCTIVE but we shall more know about them throughout the season. they aim to GROW THEIR WEALTH before the season ends. we cannot be too sure but it is said that their loyalties lie WITH THEMSELVES. how true ? we are yet to find out. [ ann , 30 , she/her , est, n/a ]
who: open where: the charity ball
It hardly mattered how many similar events Simon attended, he would always feel out of sorts. Not that he would ever allow himself to show even a hint of discomfort. Regardless of what he felt on the inside, Simon Lennox was always the picture of charm and poise, as was befitting his breeding. Glancing over his shoulder, a half smile painted on his lips, Simon regarded the person beside him. "This is certainly an interesting affair, wouldn't you say?"
open starter –– gabriel anderton, almack's.
his father had been a gentleman, and although his blood was hardly aristocratic, colin anderton's lucrative business endeavours had paved the way for his children's entrée into the so-called beau monde. gabriel was not unfamiliar with those gathered at almack's tonight –– impeccable breeding tended to produce a closed-knit society, a crop of over-familiar faces. half of the assembled gentlemen he'd rubbed elbows with at st. pauls, or eton; the other half, he recognised from the gambling tables of white's. a glass of ratafia in hand, a pair of copper brows furrow as his eyes scan the crowd, a sea of peach satin-silks and feathered plumes, a flushed crush of bodies twirling beneath the heat of at least a dozen twinkling chandeliers. "almack's may be a far cry from billingsgate, but the stench is not altogether very different." the captain clears his throat, bemused. "–– another drink?"
Nathaniel Dormer was not the sort of man who mingled. On the contrary, he could think of about a hundred other things that he could have been doing with his time, but successful businesses required connections and connections required mingling. So, with deep resignation, he'd found himself at Almack's. "There are certainly parallels to be drawn," he commented bringing the glass he currently held to his lips. There was something to be said about the place resembling a fish market especially in the way overly zealous mothers attempted to pass their less than interesting daughters off to the most eligible sap. With a cursory glance in the other man's direction, Nathaniel nodded once. He'd gladly accept another drink if it helped him get through this evening.
Credits: ©Cheekeyfire

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