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Post by Kris on Jun 11, 2007 18:25:03 GMT -5
*Kris shivered at the touch of his breath against her ear.*
"Of course you're not leaving us. You live here."
*Sobering, she rose, taking his arm.*
"Of course."
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Post by Rochester on Jun 11, 2007 18:33:13 GMT -5
*Rochester shook his head and kissed her cheek.*
"But you live here too. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
*He led her down the hall to the sitting room. Seeing Imogen, he bowed his head politely and released Kris, standing between them.*
"Imogen, this is Kris. Kris, this is Maharani Imogen Carruthers-Ford-Sinnot-Bexby-Huntingdon-Vandenburg-D'Arcy."
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Imogen
- Ingenious Pilot -
The Black Widow%\1\%
Posts: 112
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Post by Imogen on Jun 11, 2007 22:40:43 GMT -5
*Imogen stood with a polite smile that was not altogether cold and extended her hand to the other woman.*
"I'm so sorry for any confusion I may have caused, Mademoiselle Kris. Please, do accept my humbled apologies for what happened."
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Post by Kris on Jun 12, 2007 11:38:29 GMT -5
*Kris shook her hand, not betraying her wariness. She had been somewhat reassured, after the initial shock, by the fact that Imogen could not yet have spent all her money and Rochester would never marry. This allowed her to give Imogen a small, but sincere, smile.*
"No, I apologize. I had gotten rather unused to knocking lately; a fault I will remedy in future."
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Post by Rochester on Dec 18, 2008 7:37:45 GMT -5
***MANY DAYS AND MUCH TRAMA LATER***
*Rochester stumbled into the kitchen. He'd been cloistered away for...how long was it now? Days? Weeks? Forever? He had lost all sense of time. He'd grown rather blaise and numb to life in general, his appearance showing it blatantly. He hadn't been sleeping well, if at all and he gave the visage of some wraith, pale lit by moonlight that filtered through the kitchen window as he rummaged around in a cupboard, muttering to himself.*
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Post by Erik on Dec 20, 2008 22:29:17 GMT -5
((Didja want someone to knock?))
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Post by Rochester on Jan 5, 2009 16:17:38 GMT -5
((Knocking is fine. I also wanted to leave it open for Nadir, if he is still about. I didn't have anything particular in mind. But I'm open to ideas.))
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Post by Valmont on Jan 5, 2009 17:22:18 GMT -5
Now that he was getting himself back into the swing of things--if a double helping of Mssrs. Mortimer and Erik constituted "swinging"--Valmont had begun to note the absence of a formerly-common sight about town. One Lord Rochester, dilettante and libertine. Not exactly competition, the men were friendly rivals, though rarely for the same prize--and even then, it could only heighten the fun.
But Valmont was not above calling, if only to determine if the gossip was true.
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Post by Rochester on Jan 5, 2009 17:50:43 GMT -5
*The sound of the door seemed almost otherworldly. Distant to be sure. But Rochester found himself answering it, perhaps out of learned memory, in a distant haze which read in his eyes.*
"Can I help you?" *He asked, mainly out of habit. It took him several moments to recognize the fellow that faced him. And when he did, he only managed a soft 'Oh.' in observation.*
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Post by Valmont on Jan 5, 2009 17:59:48 GMT -5
"My God," Valmont said in his habitual, almost bored tone of voice. "You look like the very devil. What on earth is the matter? The little urchin flee for higher ground?"
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Post by Rochester on Jan 5, 2009 18:17:19 GMT -5
*Rochester frowned instinctively, straightening.*
"Not exactly." *He muttered.*
"What do you want?" *He asked, a bit shorter than he meant to.*
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Post by Valmont on Jan 5, 2009 18:22:03 GMT -5
"Merely to check on you, dear boy. Your presence has been missed. And unless your girl has some very interesting tastes that you're kind enough to indulge, I'd guess the rumors about her running off are true. A shame, I'm sure."
Valmont raised an eyebrow.
"I also hear there's a rather tasty Oriental fellow who's moved in. Do tell, Rochester."
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Post by Rochester on Jan 5, 2009 18:27:23 GMT -5
*Rochester's frown did not lessen, but his brow did lift in curiosity.*
"Pardon?"
*Surely he would have noticed. Wouldn't he?*
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Post by Valmont on Jan 5, 2009 18:32:49 GMT -5
Valmont stared at him a moment, eyes narrowed. "He comes and goes at will. Darker gentleman, tall. A bit on the broody side. So I'm told." Everyone had people watching everyone else for this sort of thing, of course. He was certain of his information. "I really think you're ill, old man. Do let's sit down."
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Post by Rochester on Jan 5, 2009 18:52:43 GMT -5
*That did sound vaguely familiar and Rochester found himself not offering up any argument. He turned from the door, leaving it open that Valmont could come inside as he started towards the parlor to pour himself a brandy. He didn't even ask, pouring a second and holding it out to the other man.*
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