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PART II
MAY, 1780
GROSVENOR SQUARE
LONDON, ENGLAND
CELIA STOOD AT THE EDGE of a sweltering ballroom in one of her hideous gowns, a fern her only companion and shield. Though her aunt was the very model of kindness to her simpleton niece, the rest of the haute ton was not so inclined.
“The marchioness is so kind to that girl,” whispered one woman who had not realized Celia was standing right behind her. Her tone was not complimentary.
“If ’twere me, she’d long been sent to a lunatic asylum. Why, my abigail told me the most frightful tale of the girl’s caterwauling if anyone so much as lays a finger on her belongings.”
This was true. Celia did not like her personal things to be touched anyroad, but here she was free to act the veriest of banshees if anyone but her mother or George did it.
Her brow wrinkled. Judas had touched her things. Often. Her only objection had been his commandeering of her side of the bed. Why hadn’t it bothered her?
He had thumbed through her ship’s logs whilst she watched, unaffected (though her journals were locked up tight in a sea chest awaiting a port of call in Rotterdam, where she kept the collection in a bank vault). He had sifted through her liquor cabinet and taken what he wanted. She had allowed him to hold her K1. He had searched for and helped himself to her toy chest whilst she slept in order to mimic her perversion.
He had also put everything back in its proper place, the same way he had found it. Now that she thought on it, she realized he had carefully observed the object he wanted to examine before he picked it up. Never had she had to go behind him and put things in their proper places.
That was not something she could say about her mother or George or any other cabin boy or girl she’d ever had, save Kit.
“Oh, look at the poor dear,” came the vicious purr of Celia’s sister-in-law, whose hatred for her husband, Captain Lucien Bancroft, was legend throughout the ton, “waiting for her card to fill … ”
Celia looked down at her dance card, which was empty. She didn’t bother to hide her smile at it: Smiling at nothing supplied the tabbies with conversation that did not involve clothing or eligible bachelors.
Though it was the most convincing—and useful—ruse Celia had ever concocted, the plethora of opportunity for her personal entertainment could not be underestimated, either.
“My dear,” said her aunt breathlessly as she appeared at Celia’s elbow, “what a magnificent crush!”
A magnificent crush of handsome young rakehell nobles, for a certes.
“That luscious Spanish lord is here tonight,” she breathed. “Covarrubias.”
Celia was careful to keep her expression blank, but her heart felt closer to the surface and thudding hard enough to be heard over the mêlée.
“He’s older than I care for, but—” Celia would kill her. “—I’ve seen how he looks at me.”
And then she would kill him. “I have a tendre for him, Aunt,” she said matter-of-factly and entirely without guile. The Simpleton would not know better than to admit such a thing, particularly regarding a man to whom she had not been introduced.
The marchioness blinked, shocked. “Oh? Oh, then! I’ll not be selfish about him, m’dear. Would you like me to introduce you?”
“Yes, Aunt, if you please.” It would only take one look for her to make Rafael understand he was not to fuck her aunt under any circumstances.
“Conde Covarrubias!” trilled Aunt Harriet when the tall, broad, blond man approached, as if compelled by Aunt’s wishes.
“My lady,” he said, as he took Aunt’s hand and bowed over it. “You look ravishing, as always, and finally I am seeing you from closer than a ballroom away.”
“You naughty man! ’Tis not I who have kept myself from you.”
Celia kept her expression as carefully dull as always.
“And who is this lovely young miss?” asked the Conde as he turned to Celia.
“This,” Aunt Harriet said lavishly, “is my niece, Miss Celia Bancroft, Lord Hylton’s daughter. Celia, this is Conde Rafael Covarrubias. Please give him a curtsey.” Celia dropped the most precise curtsey his station warranted. “Very good, love.” She leaned into Lord Covarrubias and said, “My niece, in case you hadn’t heard— She is … ah … special.”
Play along, Lord Covarrubias. We shall rendezvous later.
“Sí,” he purred as he picked up Celia’s hand for a kiss. From under her lashes, she studied his perfect face. The corner of his mouth twitched. “I know exactly how special she is.”
Aunt started, confused. He was not interested in her game. “Ah … ” Most likely she could not imagine the Conde’s words held anything more than overdone Spanish etiquette. She tittered. “Of course you do.”
The conde grasped Celia’s card and exclaimed, “My dear, certainly you have not saved all your places for me?” He scrawled his name at the next gavotte. “Surely a young lady as beautiful and well behaved as you should know how to dance?”
“Yes, my lord,” Celia whispered without looking at him.
“My lord,” the marchioness murmured. Celia almost laughed at her dismay. “Are you so captivated by Celia?”
No one was captivated by The Simpleton, so Aunt’s reaction was understandable.
“I am, I must admit.”
Harriet gathered herself to speak, but she seemed to be so befuddled by this turn of events, that she could only manage a noncommittal hum.
At that, he turned to her. “I’ve spoken with her father just an hour past, my lady.”
Celia was too well trained to betray her shock, but Aunt Harriet had no reason to hide it. “What?” she whispered, laying her palm against her exposed bosom.
“For the usual reason,” he murmured, and moved in close. “Is it possible your solicitors have not been in touch with you the last day or so, Lady Rathbone?” Then he turned to Celia and offered his hand as the orchestra began a new tune.
She put her hand in it without a word and followed him to the dance floor.
They said nothing through the first turn. It was the second turn when Celia deemed it safe to speak, almost without moving her lips. In Spanish. “What is your game this time?”
He grinned.
At their third interlude, he whispered, “Surely you do not expect me to stand by and do nothing when your hand has been offered along with a tidy sum.”
Celia nearly stumbled, but was obliged to finish out the next set of steps before she could continue the conversation. “My hand?”
He cast her a startled glance. “You truly do not know?”
“What has Bancroft done?”
There was no time for him to answer her, for the next steps separated them again, and there would be no more chances to speak. Then the dance was over, and he gallantly walked her back to the fern she had claimed, and bowed over her hand. “Until we meet again, my lovely,” he exclaimed with grand aplomb for the benefit of those eavesdropping. “May I call upon you some time next week?”
God’s blood, what a predicament! She apprehended what must have happened, but without knowledge of the details, she could make no plans—
“Miss Bancroft?” he purred with the knowledge of a lover. “I hope you will allow me to … visit … with you. I would like to know you more … intimately.”
Rafael knew her more intimately than any man ever had. Her face went hot under the white lead powder at the very public reminder, so she bobbed a tiny curtsey and ducked her head and whispered, “I will await your pleasure, my lord.”
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Pirates!
I am far behind.
OT from the dedthread: I went through my gasoline receipts from my FreedomFest 2025 road trip.
The car I took takes premium. So I only bought premium on the trip.
The Kum & Go in Sioux Falls, SD and a service plaza on the Will Rogers Turnpike in Vinita, OK were tied for the cheapest gas. $3.199/gallon. The Kum & Go’s premium was ethanol free.
The most expensive gas was in Pacific Grove, CA. $5.999/gallon. As a side note, premium in the other parts of California were in the mid-4s per gallon.
How many times did you First on your trip?
I wouldn’t imagine DEG is the type to First and tell.
I wouldn’t imagine DEG is the type to First and tell.
Yep. People can see them.
$2.70 last week in most of MS
It was 2.75 here all spring, now with Trump solving world problems it’s down to 3.05. Seems to follow the chocolate ration.
Hope he quits helping soon.
I’m waiting for diesel/fuel oil prices to come down. They have not tracked gas prices.
I need fuel oil for my furnace for this comeing winter.
Last week in Carmel, IN, gas went up from $2.40 –> $2.85. It’s usually cheaper in Indy.
4.59$ for premium in Pacific beach right now, down 30 cents, Ill take it
Woah. Should be $3.40 –> $3.85.
Eliot shunning the social scene is all the more understandable.
Mhmm-hmmm, well that sexy time will certainly lead to where it leads. I predict his game purposefully leads to quarrels between competitors. Judas knows to put her things back in their proper place. I’m sure he can stick his thing where it belongs.
*bow chicka wham bam*
Well. First, off to the Spanish Suite.
No high hopes for the Naked Gun reboot, but… Liam Neeson is the perfect choice.
This is one of those set-up chapters that doesn’t do well in serial form.
Short white Russians!
You know who else was a a Spainard lush?
Nope.
“Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead!”
Lush Spaniard.
He’s from Barcelona.
Picasso?
Charon?
Fuck, that’s supposed to be Charo.
Denis Villeneuve is going to be directing the next Bond film.
Tonight, at a concert, I saw a man in a wheelchair crowd surf.
I feel I have truly lived now.
Pfft…thinks back to 1996 SoCal punk scene…you are almost 30 years too late
You haven’t even seen a black James Bond yet, let alone the first gay Bond.
What I’m saying is that Ncuti Gatwa is going to be Bond.
Oh Jeebus gay Doctor Who wasn’t enough??
No number of token recastings could ever be enough.
No they haven’t officially named anyone. But there were more rumors last week that he would be black. Who knows if its true. Now they’re supposedly waiting until there’s a script to cast.
Shrug – don’t care if he’s “black” but flaming queer Bond would be… not in character.
To me he should be an Englishmen. And up until recently, that most definitely meant white.
Movie’s gonna be shit either way, so I don’t particularly care whether they mess with the demographics as they set fire to another beloved franchise. Enjoy the descent into irrelevance.
Honestly, I could care less if the next Bond is black, gay, female, Martian or whatever. The series is done, and has been for a while.
Ncuti Gatwa?!?
Darn you for putting that image in my head.
The only Bond Movie I care to see is one where they place the story during the cold war. 50’s – 80’s. Other than that they can fuck right off.
“Shrug – don’t care if he’s “black” but flaming queer Bond would be… not in character.”
—————
It feels like something written for “The Critic”, which of course would mean “It stinks!” 😉
‘Ncuti Gatwa’
gesundheit
I’m assuming that this means that he was still seated in the chair?
Morning Slackers!
It would seem that a cincinnati area Kroger has Claussen Hearty Garlic slices in stock, if their website is to be believed.
I’ll report back.
Good morning to everyone except retarded, DEI Supreme Court hires.
🤨🌻🥓
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=657TZDHZqj4
🎶🎶
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
Good morning, homey, Sean, Teh Hype, Gdrag, and TAFKALack!
https://6abc.com/post/philadelphias-largest-city-workers-union-district-council-33-could-strike-soon/16857114/
8% a year?
Fire them all.
Into the sun?
https://www.wfmz.com/news/area/lehighvalley/lehigh-county/allentown-area/allentown-developer-cites-environmental-justice-in-plans-to-sue-city-over-homeless-encampments/article_817f30b7-236f-43aa-a318-6531d02e7efe.html
I think Zardoz has a solution here.
https://bimcal.com/calendar/global-smurfs-day
Happy global Smurf day.
Good morning to all
Rainy days and Saturdays…Choose your ending
June has turned out to be a little wetter than usual but we’ll take it
Good morning, 4(20)! Our June has turned out to be a little warmer than usual! 🥵 I hope your “wetter” hasn’t translated into more ‘skeeters!
WASHINGTON (AP) — The Trump administration has agreed to pay just under $5 million to settle a wrongful death lawsuit that Ashli Babbitt’s family filed over her shooting by an officer during the U.S. Capitol riot, according to a person with knowledge of the settlement. The person insisted on anonymity to discuss with The Associated Press terms of a settlement that have not been made public.
👍
Proud Boys are also properly suing the US.
End of first break. Lunch at 10. Going damn-well. Big Things.