1857: Lord Alban Fitzartur
Letter to his cousin, Jeanne d’Anatis
What a tiresome world it is when even one’s invitations arrive wrapped in the crepe of obligation. I have received a command to attend Court—yes, that glittering mausoleum of protocol where one stands for hours in the hopes of catching a royal yawn. The card arrived this morning, all embossed and imperious, as if the mere sight of my humble self might redeem the season’s dullness. I confess, Jeanne, the prospect fills me with a boredom so profound it borders on the metaphysical. Velvet breeches, feathered hats, and the endless parade of dowagers in puce—it is less a levée than a funeral for good taste.
I have already penned Father a note begging intercession. I wrote, “your influence is my only hope against this royal durance vile. Surely a word in the right ear might consign me to the library instead?” He will no doubt oblige, for he knows my patience for such spectacles is thinner than a debutante’s fan. Besides, what use have I for Court favour? I am scarcely the sort of son whose ambitions require a monarch’s nod—more likely the reverse, should my little indiscretions ever demand royal clemency. Sardonic, perhaps, but true: the Palace is a poor ally for those whose pleasures stray from the straight and narrow path of Hanoverian propriety.
Pray, how did you escape this year’s muster? Did you plead the migraine, or some more inventive ailment—a sudden passion for the cloister, perhaps? Your letters from last season hinted at a talent for such diplomatic withdrawals; I envy your ingenuity. Write soon with your stratagems, for if Father fails me, I shall be forced to attend in a state of simulated ecstasy, nodding at every platitude as though it were Sappho herself reciting from the balcony.
The house here is a haven of comparative tranquillity: the sea whispers secrets more interesting than those of St. James’s, and my mornings are spent in pursuits far preferable to curtseying. Do come visit once the Court circus has passed; we might stage our own masque, free of ermine and etiquette.
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