Fortum and Mason’s

@lucyofedinburgh​

Margaret wondered what she did to deserve getting stuck with Lady Heyward and Lady Selwyn at luncheon. She hadn’t invited or imposed upon either of them and yet they seemed to make their way over taking up the free chairs at her table. Was she already being sized up as a possible Patroness, or had they come to scold her for some unknown reason?

She did wish they would get on with it, instead of flittering conversation over their children and the most fashionable fabric for the closing weeks of the Season. “Your wedding is close approaching Lady Mulgrave, tell us all about your dress.” Celestia Selwyn leaned in with interest and Margaret had to feign mystery.

“It’s a secret, of course. Until the day.”  All she wanted was a candied tart in peace, Margaret frowned slightly, picking a piece of sugared orange slice from the pastry, and leaving it at the side of her plate. The worst offense the other two ladies had done her that afternoon was the act of sitting right in her vision of the foreigners newly arrived from Sweden. Royalty, the attendant behind the counter had whispered. It had been easy to eavesdrop without present company.

She would be stuck here with nothing but droll conversation forever. Margaret’s gaze wandered around the establishment, and she nearly leaped out of her chair at the sight of familiar red hair. Lucy. Surely she would provide emergency rescue. “Princess, I’ve been waiting for you.” Margaret picked up her plate and stepped out from the current table, muttering a quick dismissal for herself to the other ladies before quickly crossing the tile to Lucy’s side.

“Did you know,” She whispered, “It seems no lady can have a peaceful tea or luncheon here at all? I’d be grateful for five minutes of your time at least – just to escape Lady Heyward and Selwyn.” Margaret motioned to the Swedes in the kitty-corner then, “Do you think anyone will want to go back with them? To Sweden? It seems to be all they’re talking about.”

"And we meet again, your highness." William said, turning when his attention was caught by the sound of footsteps on stairs and bowing. Lucy's bright hair made it hard to mistake her for anyone else and he bit back a quip asking if she was there to check on the relationship status of the guards. That would not be an appropriate comment to make.

While they hadn't arrived together, manners kept William not in place, but moving towards her. "I didn't expect many others to be here." Effingham, yes, and if anyone else had served time in the war, perhaps them as well. Or the French. Maybe having a husband who was a soldier was all one needed to care about the war.

Was the polite thing to offer to join in their tour, or to leave her alone? Did he make small talk and ask about her time in Margate, or was that better suited for when they weren't in a place that could lead to discussions about war? It was much easier when they were discussing candy on the ship and - oh.

Reaching into his pocket, William realized he was overthinking things. "Candy?" // @lucyofedinburgh​

Peter wasn’t uncomfortable in a frat house. He had visited and gotten plastered in plenty during his time in undergrad. Somehow, being now a med student and significantly more academically focused, the frat parties almost felt…boring? There’s only so many times one can sick up in the front bushes of Sigma before it got old.

So he found himself standing in the corner of the room, nursing a surprisingly chilled beer and chatting easily with some of the seniors and grad students. He was on his way to refill his cup when he spotted Lucy Needham, the princess of campus, studying a billiard ball intently. It was rare to find her not surrounded by close friends, or a sick puppy trying to coerce her into a date. Peter approached her, smiling as they made eye contact.

Since the surprise party she had helped plan for Lucy’s birthday was a bust thanks to her dumb texting, Lydia decided they would all just surprise her at her favorite nightclub off campus. However it was taking a little more convincing than anticipated.

“Cmon, Lucy! Just got like…two drinks.” The brunette sat on the other side of her friend’s couch, pleading. Lucy looked up from her phone, gave another shake of her head, and then proceeded in texting her new almost boyfriend who was actually at the party, waiting.

“What if I get us bottle service?” Another head shake. “Lucy, I know you just want to sit and text Basti all night, but I really want to make up for your birthday.” This just brought more silence.

Lydia was desperate. All of their friends were currently packed into a corner booth at Lucy’s favorite club, waiting for the guest of honor to arrive. Getting up from the couch, Lydia got her own phone out of her purse and unlocked it. “What if I get Kenneth to convince Professor Leary to give us an extension on our term papers?”

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muse’s phone:

NAME: Miss Lucy Needham

RINGTONE: [x]

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: sending the utmost condolences

NAME: P. Lucy

RINGTONE: [x]

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: Are you going with Frances? 

Since Winifred considers Lucy family there is scarce anything she could do to ruin their relationship. Lord Kinnaird has made her sister oh so happy and Lucy has welcomed her kindly into the family - so how could Winifred ever feel anything other than tremendously grateful?