1x1 CLOSED Charity Case #FIREWA

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

Politely put Garaile wasn't meant to meet with the client. As a barrister he wasn't supposed to involve himself, other than focus on pleading, to better his chances as an objective and independent party. The solicitor that had engaged him said it was part of the strategy, however, and so Garaile could only show up, hoping that what the solicitor had told him was true and worth the while. However, the intimate way in which the baroness called him by his first name and only his first name after a summon for tea at her place, followed by the faces of a couple of young ladies from the gentry ranks, accompanied with some peers who were still bachelors, Garaile understood the whole other meaning of his invitation and introduction.

"Garaile, how lovely!" the baroness had called as Garaile met her with a smile, a press of his lips against her head as he bowed and straightened himself for the rest in the room. "Garaile Scriven, esquire. A newly appointed barrister," the baroness had introduced him, easily and casually as if he wasn't her barrister, as if she had no reputation-ruining case hanging onto the frocks of her skirts because of the petty woman she was.

"What an uncommon name," one of her friends had remarked upon, which was the opportunity the baroness had been waiting for. For while Garaile's occupation and his income made him a desirable match his history did not, and the baroness couldn't wait to reveal that.

"French, my dear," she started off and Garaile only made a polite nod, not bothering to intervene as he watched the eyes of the young ladies grow dazed a little, their interest in him a little fading just as he wanted it to be, "only his father, however. A successful merchant now on our English shores, so no worries for that. Right, Garaile, you have never been to France, have you?" The inquiry was less than subtle as Garaile wondered how anyone was fooled by this so-called charity of the baroness, his head tilting to the side with a jovial twitter followed by a 'non' for Garaile did need to allow himself some quality of humour these tramps wouldn't allow him to have otherwise.

"A bachelor as well," the baroness nudged, whispering to the rest about the size of his income and other details that were of interest within a match. Eyes lit up once more as these details were intimated and hope relit again. However, the fact that the baroness didn't bother to introduce any of the ladies present now to him said enough. The baroness simply did not think him suitable for any of the fine ladies invited today. It only meant that, amongst the many unfortunate souls searching, there was someone the baroness thought even less of.

@firejay1

 

[firejay1]

Charlotte was fussing with her sister's hair, trying to work around the younger girl practically vibrating with worry. "Please, Elizabeth." She said for the umpteenth time.

"We're late." Elizabeth repeated.

"I'm sure the baroness will be generous." Charlotte argued, shoving the last pin into her hair. "We have much to be grateful for of her generosity to us already."

"To me." Elizabeth corrected sulkily, but Charlotte shot her a glance through the mirror and she did not continue.

"I don't see what worries you so. She must have expected some tardiness when she received the letter informing her of our arrival time."

"Yes, she must have cared greatly that we would hardly have any time to get dressed for tea, certainly not enough to arrive on time even with great haste." Elizabeth stood up and patted her new dress down, but made a point to make a face at Charlotte.

"Elizabeth!" Charlotte speared her with a sharp glance. "The baroness has been very kind to us, and I won't hear a cross word against her while we owe the good fortune of being in town to her offer to sponsor you. At no small expense to herself!"

"Yes, alright." Elizabeth said, with a dismissive wave of her hand, making quickly for the door.

Charlotte sighed, for a moment looking down at her own dark blue dress, several years out of style and made of poor, rough cloth. At home, it wouldn't have raised any eyebrows, but she hadn't had any time to mend it to match the styles of the ton, and that would surely be noticeable here. Elizabeth's dress was of the highest quality, the latest style - they'd been assured - and very pretty on its own, but hardly flattered her complexion, and of course Elizabeth had made it no secret how she felt about what all of this said about their distant aunt's so called "generosity." But Charlotte was determined to think well of her. Though her execution might be clumsy, the baroness was doing them a service, and they had every reason to be grateful.

When they arrived at the sitting room, the baroness stood, spreading her arms magnanimously. "There you are, Miss Dey, Miss Elizabeth! Young Miss Elizabeth is my charge for the season." She explained to the present crowd of ladies, who smiled and nodded as Elizabeth dutifully executed the perfect curtsey to the room. Charlotte curtsied politely as well, despite receiving no introduction whatsoever, and the two girls sat where they were directed. Elizabeth was promptly bombarded with questions and curious glances, but just as Charlotte was getting settled, the baroness gave her an odd smile and said, "My dear Charlotte, might I introduce Mr. Scriven to you?"

Charlotte looked up at her, following her aunt's gestures to the only man present at this party. He looked stiff and not at all like he wanted to be here, dark brown eyes listless and bored. He did indeed look like he could use a friend here. "Of course, aunt."

She stood and approached him with the baroness, who made the introductions with rather suspicious enthusiasm. Despite not sponsoring her directly, it seemed their aunt was hoping to help her with a decent match as well! It was a useless kindness, as Charlotte had long since concluded that she'd be of no help in the marriage mart, but at least it would give her someone to talk to while Elizabeth was the center of attention. She curtsied and smiled at him, hoping an engaged partner would help him loosen up a bit. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scriven."

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

In the years Garaile had sat in the benches behind the bar the barristers he used to follow around used to reproach tardiness as the greatest vice. The recollection of numerous of his peers that were ousted and excluded at once for being too 'tardy' in the eyes of the great men that sought out any reason to oust them from passing the bar. The same sort of tardiness that didn't go punished here, in this room, amongst the pretty frocks of the fine ladies that the baroness hadn't bothered with for Garaile despite his clear invitation. Or perhaps it was a punishment of sorts, as of the two late arrivals only the plainest was chosen and introduced.

"Miss Charlotte," Garaile had greeted back, a bow and a smile following, never hiding the way his eyes were examining the old dress Charlotte was wearing compared to the lavish one that the younger sister wore in the back of the crowd.

"The point is not to seem partial, baroness," the barrister remarked, hoping that the baroness was at least intelligent enough to understand what he meant with that. The lady was already making his case hard enough as it was, being as disagreeable and opinionated as she was, but Garaile wouldn't be standing here now as a barrister if he hadn't overcome this all.

The Baroness sputtered something in her own defence, clear that she didn't want to discuss any of this in public, or in front of the miss presented to Garaile, to which the corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, before the newly introduced couple was left alone, the intent of the baroness so clear that even the most deluded would have awakened by now.

"How did you fall out of grace?" Garaile opens the conversation in half a jest, amused at the idea that a little mouse like Miss Charlotte could ever do to deserve Garaile in the fine opinion of the baroness.

 

[firejay1]

The point of what? Charlotte wondered, and she frowned for a moment, but she supposed she would come to learn of it while they were under the care of the baroness. Her aunt seemed both flustered and displeased by the comment, but Charlotte couldn't say she minded not being hovered over longer. She smiled at Mr. Scriven, but her eyes squinted a little in mild confusion. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I believe my aunt wishes to see me matched as well as my sister. Perhaps well-meaning, but I apologize on her behalf all the same." She gave an extra little curtsey. "At any rate, it is more generous than she needs be. At my age and situation in life, I would not object to matrimonial intentions, but my sister is more important to me at this time. Do you have any siblings, Mr. Scriven?"

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

Was she for real? Garaile just smiled at the response, thinking to himself how sly the missus was to craft out such a perfect answer with just the right amount of innocence gleaming off her. Was there anyone that could honestly believe what she said? Perhaps, a fool, but the mouse was too old to be fresh out of the woods, and neither did she seem dim.

"I'm afraid my parents didn't love me well enough for a second," Garaile responded, which was what he believed to be true, however crude it was to say, but what others perceived as part of the uncomfortable wit he sharpened himself with.

"Shouldn't you want to marry before your sister does? To set you well would mean that your sister can naturally follow," Garaile didn't hold back on that curious question, rather intent on finding out the reason why the baroness decided to look down upon her, if the baroness needed much reason at all.

"It would improve her reputation by such lengths. If only I had been privy to the counsel," the barrister sighed, intentionally letting the words fall for the other to catch and inquire on. After all, what fun was there in concealing the truth? If it could agitate the baroness all the better.

 

[firejay1]

Charlotte frowned for a moment at his response to her question. With most, she would've considered it a self-deprecating joke, but there was something sharp about Mr. Scriven's manner that made her hesitate to dismiss it so easily. Still, he didn't seem to want to discuss it further, and she was happy enough to answer a question she had an easy answer to. "Of course, it would have been preferable for us both had I been able to secure a suitor before my sister, but it is Elizabeth's first season. That I should find a suitable husband now, after six seasons… perhaps with my aunt's assistance, it would not be difficult, but I would rather that advantage be afforded to my sister rather than risk she also spend some years on the market and be unable to marry as she wishes. At any rate, I am a far better chaperone to her than she to me." She laughed a little, but she was curious about his mention of some counsel.

"Is the baroness involved in some court case? I apologize for my ignorance. My sister and I only arrived in town recently." Nobody needed to know they had only been able to arrive a half hour ago, as they would no doubt share her sister's skepticism about their host's motives.

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

Glancing over the younger sister, already led around to be introduced in what Garaile assumed to be her prettiest tea-time frocks, the man could see why the bets would be on the younger one. Fresh-faced and innocent, there was little to dislike about the appearance of the debutante who fit all of the conventional standards needed to make a successful match. Not that Miss Charlotte missed any of that, just that the admission of six seasons begged the question to wonder what was wrong with the rather demure looking lady, other than her obvious lack of finances that ruled every decision in their circles.

Perhaps it was honesty, the direct question inquiring after matters that a lady shouldn't inquire after even when hinted at, only to silently understand. It was unconventional, but Garaile had never liked conventional. A smile, sharp and amused, as he leans over chin hovering over her shoulder for a whisper and his eyes trained on the Baroness leading around the sister.

"And now you with me," were his words, unable to resist himself to sound as menacing as possible, flashing yet another smile from his crouched state towards the Baroness who just happened to turn around.

 

[firejay1]

Charlotte's eyes widened slightly, and she took a small step back, instinctively trying to be subtle so as not to call attention to either of them. Mr. Scriven's face was still uncomfortably close, but she she let out a tiny breath of relief out of her nose at no longer being able to feel the warmth that indicated someone was close enough to press against you. Her eyes searching him immediately caught that his gaze was not trained on her, and followed it with another subtle shift to realize her aunt was staring daggers at them both.

She bit her bottom lip slightly, praying Elizabeth hadn't seen enough to... misunderstand was certainly not the correct word here.

"If you would excuse me," she sounded a little out of breath even to herself, and hoped he would not interpret it as flirtatious, even as she looked straight at him with her jaw set, "there is certainly a better way to conduct a conversation than with your mouth by my ear." He'd scared her for a small second, and she felt the smallest twinge of guilt for assuming that he'd had any ill intentions, even for a moment, but she certainly couldn't allow such behavior to continue. "While I believe my aunt would enjoy the credit for being the cause of both our matches, I am certainly not desperate enough to flirt with scandal to be married." She would've managed a match at a far younger age if she had.

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

Perhaps he had underestimated Miss Charlotte. Naive as he still thought her to be, Garaile did like her honesty and direct manner of speaking. Whether this was the result of being out on the market for six seasons without any luck didn't matter, it was more genuine than the display of manners shown before and much more interesting to watch.

"I wonder," Garaile hummed, straightening up again as he turned his attention to Miss Charlotte in full, "one scandal could cover up the other, but that would put me out of a job and my delight in your reaction," the barrister spoke, deciding that, if Miss Charlotte was to speak plainly, so would he. That was what he did best after all.

"Presuming you will be at tonight's dance without a partner I shall reserve your first dance," Garaile continued, not bothering to ask the question first which Miss Charlotte, as a good daughter of a gentleman, couldn't turn down anyway, thus sparing her the conflict of having to answer. "It should improve your reputation by far, catching the interest of a barrister," the man continued in a teasing lilt, knowing full well that it would do nothing to cover up the fact that the family had no money and no position in society that could help advance his career.

Which meant that the little sister was quite so doomed as well even with the help of the Baroness. Proving the strategy of his patroness to be leaky at best.

 

[firejay1]

Charlotte could hardly imagine what sort of scandal could be so bad that her disgrace and subsequent marriage would be preferable, and the sentiment was alarming enough she felt quite determined to learn of whatever he was speaking. He hadn't responded to her question earlier, however, so she didn't venture another. He didn't ask her for her first dance, so much as quite demand it with a statement that only the most optimistic interpretation could see as genuinely kind. Or perhaps it really was meant to be. She decided to reserve judgment on that, so simply said, "I believe we will be attending, yes. It would be my pleasure to dance with you Mr. Scriven." Hopefully a pleasure, at any rate. Having reserved her first dance... that would set tongues wagging indeed, though she didn't understand what she'd done to merit the attention.

"Charlotte." The baroness called, apparently satisfied that they had enough space to call attention to them, but her glare made it no secret she was not pleased at how her "match" was conducting itself. Charlotte curtsied to Mr. Scriven and excused herself, as her aunt demanded her opinion on some trivial matter, no doubt to get them to separate now that they'd made some kind of connection.

There was only a bit more fuss before more gentlemen began arriving, clearly invited to allow for some proper dancing to occur. This was a small assembly, but as Charlotte allowed herself to be led to the floor by Mr. Scriven, she couldn't help but imagine this might be her only dance tonight.

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile Scriven

Male | 28 y/o | Barrister | Esquire & gentleman | 4k a year

"Honestly, one has to wonder whether you are there to help me or to vex me with another scandal," the Baroness had said during a short intermission, her fan waving so wildly that Garaile could enjoy the barely cooling breeze himself, perfume and all followed and mixed.

The Baroness was a stocky woman, made ugly by her own age and prejudices as continued to fan herself, as if everything was about to make her faint. Least to say, Garaile didn't like her, his head lowering for a moment as he bit back a comment on the terrific strategy she had cooked up for herself that seemed so very fruitless to him.

"Try to donate to some charities. The Roosenvelt foundation has a nice program that should improve your case," Garaile said instead, polite nods exchanged with the assembly of gentlemen that the Baroness had invited along, some amongst the people he had defended before. High society was indeed dirt wrapped in gold and this scene proved that all the more.

"Afraid that I will claim you for the night?" Garaile questioned his dance partner later that night. For the occasion he had changed into something more suitable for the dance, not having actually intended to mingle himself in the crowd tonight. He had been prepared all the same, in case it was needed, and now he found a mighty need to quench his own curiosity.

"If you want I can introduce you to the fine gentlemen in the room. To the one with the green jacket, for example," he says in a voice barely audible over the sound of music, leaning in ever so slightly to convey his words as he led the missus around on the dancefloor. Splitting for a moment and coming together, Garaile locked eyes with the softer-toned female, his own brown eyes with an almost reddish hue in them carrying that familiar glint that he often held when standing in court. "How about it, hmm?" he questioned, turning around Charlotte with that smile that held all secrets at his beck and call.