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ds_flashfictionI guess I'm on a roll. Another experimental little snippet from the Regency AU.
Title: The Bow-Window Set
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
damned_colonial
Word count: 700ish
Rating: G
The bow window set at White's club in St James always made a study of indifference to whatever happened to pass in the street below; they were there to be noticed, not to notice others. Benton Fraser, however, was no habitué of that set, and on this, his first visit to the club, he knew no better than to start up in pleasure when he saw a particular friend outside.
He bowed quickly to his companions, and left them to stare in wonderment at his departing back.
"I say, George, he's rather a rum one, isn't he? What the devil were you thinking to bring him here?"
George Brummell, better known as Beau, and acknowledged throughout London as the arbiter of style and the envy of every young buck in the city, merely glanced over his shoulder and said, "I find his manners refreshing; a pity the same cannot be said for his appearance. That coat really was remarkable."
Outside, across the road by the railings of St James's Park, Fraser and his friend were standing at arm's length, their shoulders squared. Raymond Smith wore an ill-tied neckcloth and a coat of a slightly flashy cut but cheap cloth, and had a nervous way of carrying himself that was entirely at odds with the elegant carriage of those from whom Fraser had just taken his leave.
Ray crooked a thumb across the road and said, "You were in there? I don't believe it. I'm not going to believe it. Fraser, you don't just walk in to White's."
"Well, no, I was invited."
"Oh, you were invited." The sarcasm dripped off every word, but Fraser either didn't notice or ignored it.
"Mr Brummell has been very kind."
"Oh, God." Ray covered his face with his hands, then dragged them through his hair, pushing it up into unruly disarray. Fraser just... he had no idea. He really had no idea. "You're nobody to them, Fraser. You're -- you're less than nobody."
"They were very welcoming."
"You can't be serious. You know they just -- look, who was your father?" Fraser looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, yeah, Robert Fraser, greatest guide the Company ever had, pride of Churchill Fort. But to them, to those dandies, he's nobody, right? He's less than nobody. He's a joke."
"I hardly think they would have invited me to join them if that were the case."
"Look, you know my wife? Estelle was nobody to them -- she was the daughter of a Count, you know that? But to them, she was nothing, nobody, just another emigrée."
Fraser stared at him mulishly.
"They only want you as a pet, like those -- what are they called?"
"Puppies? Canaries? Caribou?"
"Caribou? What -- no, no, I'm not going to ask. I mean other thing -- at Astley's last week -- it's like caribou."
"Moose? Musk-ox?"
Ray shook his head distractedly. "Cara -- cana-- kangaroos! That's it. They want to see you hop, Fraser."
"The kangaroo is native to New South Wales, Mr Smith. I hardly think they could have confused the fauna of an antipodean penal settlement with that of a fur-trading station in the Americas."
Ray glared at him until he tailed off. "Are you done?"
Fraser nodded. "Certainly."
Ray paused, then dropped his shoulders with an exhalation of breath, and unclenched his hands. "Look. I just... I don't like seeing them treat you like that."
"Making me hop?"
"Yeah, making you hop." He gave a crooked grin. "At least I don't make you hop."
"That's very kind of you, Mr Smith."
"What are friends for?"
Fraser just stood there for a long moment, looking at Ray with an odd expression. Then he rubbed his eyebrow thoughtfully and said, "Mr Smith... if you're not doing anything, would you like to get something to eat with me?"
Ray smiled his assent. "I just have to stop in at Bow Street, but I know a great little inn near there..."
They walked off together, keeping step along the clean-swept pavement. An older man in a roughly-made skin coat stood against the park railings. "He's a good man," he said to Fraser as they passed.
"I know," Fraser replied.
"You know what?"
"That inn you mentioned."
"Oh, right."
Title: The Bow-Window Set
Author:
damned_colonialWord count: 700ish
Rating: G
The bow window set at White's club in St James always made a study of indifference to whatever happened to pass in the street below; they were there to be noticed, not to notice others. Benton Fraser, however, was no habitué of that set, and on this, his first visit to the club, he knew no better than to start up in pleasure when he saw a particular friend outside.
He bowed quickly to his companions, and left them to stare in wonderment at his departing back.
"I say, George, he's rather a rum one, isn't he? What the devil were you thinking to bring him here?"
George Brummell, better known as Beau, and acknowledged throughout London as the arbiter of style and the envy of every young buck in the city, merely glanced over his shoulder and said, "I find his manners refreshing; a pity the same cannot be said for his appearance. That coat really was remarkable."
Outside, across the road by the railings of St James's Park, Fraser and his friend were standing at arm's length, their shoulders squared. Raymond Smith wore an ill-tied neckcloth and a coat of a slightly flashy cut but cheap cloth, and had a nervous way of carrying himself that was entirely at odds with the elegant carriage of those from whom Fraser had just taken his leave.
Ray crooked a thumb across the road and said, "You were in there? I don't believe it. I'm not going to believe it. Fraser, you don't just walk in to White's."
"Well, no, I was invited."
"Oh, you were invited." The sarcasm dripped off every word, but Fraser either didn't notice or ignored it.
"Mr Brummell has been very kind."
"Oh, God." Ray covered his face with his hands, then dragged them through his hair, pushing it up into unruly disarray. Fraser just... he had no idea. He really had no idea. "You're nobody to them, Fraser. You're -- you're less than nobody."
"They were very welcoming."
"You can't be serious. You know they just -- look, who was your father?" Fraser looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, yeah, Robert Fraser, greatest guide the Company ever had, pride of Churchill Fort. But to them, to those dandies, he's nobody, right? He's less than nobody. He's a joke."
"I hardly think they would have invited me to join them if that were the case."
"Look, you know my wife? Estelle was nobody to them -- she was the daughter of a Count, you know that? But to them, she was nothing, nobody, just another emigrée."
Fraser stared at him mulishly.
"They only want you as a pet, like those -- what are they called?"
"Puppies? Canaries? Caribou?"
"Caribou? What -- no, no, I'm not going to ask. I mean other thing -- at Astley's last week -- it's like caribou."
"Moose? Musk-ox?"
Ray shook his head distractedly. "Cara -- cana-- kangaroos! That's it. They want to see you hop, Fraser."
"The kangaroo is native to New South Wales, Mr Smith. I hardly think they could have confused the fauna of an antipodean penal settlement with that of a fur-trading station in the Americas."
Ray glared at him until he tailed off. "Are you done?"
Fraser nodded. "Certainly."
Ray paused, then dropped his shoulders with an exhalation of breath, and unclenched his hands. "Look. I just... I don't like seeing them treat you like that."
"Making me hop?"
"Yeah, making you hop." He gave a crooked grin. "At least I don't make you hop."
"That's very kind of you, Mr Smith."
"What are friends for?"
Fraser just stood there for a long moment, looking at Ray with an odd expression. Then he rubbed his eyebrow thoughtfully and said, "Mr Smith... if you're not doing anything, would you like to get something to eat with me?"
Ray smiled his assent. "I just have to stop in at Bow Street, but I know a great little inn near there..."
They walked off together, keeping step along the clean-swept pavement. An older man in a roughly-made skin coat stood against the park railings. "He's a good man," he said to Fraser as they passed.
"I know," Fraser replied.
"You know what?"
"That inn you mentioned."
"Oh, right."
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 02:17 pm (UTC)This is gorgeous. "fauna of an antipodean penal settlement" indeed!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 02:34 pm (UTC)And this line:
Look. I just... I don't like seeing them treat you like that."
"Making me hop?"
I loved it!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 05:56 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 05:57 pm (UTC)You don't think Fraser's *too* dumb/passive do you? I get the feeling I haven't picked up on his strength of character here at all. I need to do a snippet from his POV, where he's not looking quite so stupid, I think.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 04:21 pm (UTC)And Ray Smith! (I think I am I right in remembering that Kowalski is Polish for Smith?)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 05:59 pm (UTC)Glad to find another Heyer fan here -- this ficlet comes hard on the tail of me having read "Regency Buck", which explains what Brummell's doing here, though I could never manage Miss H's skill at getting his character right.
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Date: 2005-03-29 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-29 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-30 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 03:50 am (UTC)