Who: Una Nicnevin and Cassius Corbet What: First private meeting When: Early summer 1888 Where: Out and about in London Warnings: Vampires and Winter Court are not nice or conventional people.
Una had dressed carefully for this evening out; for all that she had met Cassius Corbet before, repeatedly, this was her first chance to speak privately with the new Earl. He seemed congenial enough in their meetings, but she had enough experience of mortal men, and some supernaturals, to know that the face one presented to the world was not the face one presented when alone with a single individual. Cassius was still young yet, but she imagined he must feel the same about her.
She was waiting in the workroom of her London home, examining a few things that had needed her personal hand and were now waiting for review: all she could manage in the elegant gown she was wearing, never mind the gloves and jewelry. Where Cassius meant to take her was a pleasant mystery, but she was sure she was dressed appropriately, and to the extent that she had overdressed, if such a thing was possible, a glamour would be sufficient to make her appearance correct. The effort was as much to show to her new consort that she took their relationship, whatever form it was meant to be, seriously as it was to demonstrate anything to the outside world.
Well, she was always influencing the outside world; it was part of what she was. And her glamour was not at its strongest just yet. But soon the days would begin to wane and it would be her time again. And then they would begin the great work, when it was most convenient for her magic, and to a certain extent Ravensworth's as well.
Cassius didn't need his elders among the coven to tell him that the contract he was entering into was not one of equals. He might have a high opinion of himself, but that was because he knew his own worth, and with that his own limitations. Una Nicnevin was old, and powerful, and more established in the world than Cassius could dream of being after a mere century. How old was a mystery--one never inquired about a lady's age, but he could imagine her a century past, or even two, inspiring the Ancient Greeks in their plays and songs.
Which was the other, perhaps finer, point: In terms of supernatural power, Una so far outpaced him that Cassius could not hope to match her. He would tread cautiously, and respectfully, and with the knowledge that she could crush him if he gave her reason.
He found it rather exciting, in all honesty. It was rare to find such an independently-powerful woman, outside of the Sidhe Queens themselves, and perhaps the dragons. Even vampires relied on covens and bonds to strengthen them.
Tonight he hoped to make a good impression for himself, as simply Cassius - formerly Cassius D'Arcy, French nobleman; now Cassius Corbet - rather than as the Earl of Ravensworth, or the designated public voice of his coven. Tonight, if all went well, was about wooing his future Lady, and seeing whether they would make as good a match personally as they would politically.
He arrived promptly, taking care not to keep her waiting, and bowed in greeting when he was shown inside. "Baroness."
Una met him in the parlour, seated on a chaise in an arrangement designed to show off the effort she'd put into her toilette to please him: almost as if he were stepping into a portrait of her. But then she moved, and though the effect was not lost, and her own personal glamour, which was such a part of her that she had to think on it to cloak herself, was still with her, Una was very much a living, breathing woman. She rose to greet him and offer her hand. "My lord earl, or shall we be Cassius and Una now?" It was not entirely proper, but then again, neither was she.
Cassius smiled with genuine warmth. "I was just thinking along the same lines. I should rather get to know you, if you would permit the familiarity. I believe after so long spent on formalities, it would be refreshing for us to abandon them."
He offered his hands to clasp Una's in a greeting that wasn't stiffly proper, but also wasn't too familiar. She was dazzling, and Cassius didn't believe it was all her glamour. Age had ripened her, like fine cheese or wine, though he would never risk insulting her by saying as much. She was fully settled within herself, at ease and confident. She was, simply put, magnificent.
"I hope you're hungry. It would be my pleasure to take you to dinner, somewhere I hope you'll enjoy. My carriage is just outside."
Una's smile was all pleasure. "I am at your disposal," and a beat before she added, "Cassius." Her servitors rushed to bring her coat and assist her into it so she could offer her arm to Cassius, and he could lead her out to the carriage.
"I hoped you might share something of yourself with me," Cassius remarked as they walked down the steps to the street. "Your reputation precedes you, but I like to think there's more value in what we choose to share than in what stories are told about us. You must have quite a few stories, yourself."
He waited then, to hand her up into the carriage as a footman held the door, before joining her and settling inside where they could talk with more privacy. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Although it might be rude of me, to ask without offering anything first. Do you have any questions for me? Anything you'd like to know, I will answer. Honesty seems a fitting engagement present to offer a lady who could have anything she desires."
"You're too kind." Una settled into the seat and smiled at her fiance. "Tell me a little about yourself, and I shall tell you a little about myself. Though that may be a long telling, as I am no longer young. I cannot say I have no dark secrets, but perhaps fewer than reputation suggests. And while I know your reputation makes you a bright young thing, you are no child, either. How did you come to join Ravensworth?"
"The Revolution," Cassius replied, which was the simple answer. "A number of us left France to escape Mme. Guillotine, and I was not as lucky as I could have been in the crossing. Not as unlucky, either," he admitted with a small, black-humoured smile, "seeing as I still have my head. The coven had sympathizers--most of England was, on the whole, sensitive to our plight. When my options became...more limited, let us say, they interceded. It was the first I knew of vampires or others, although we have stories in France, of course."
Cassius paused, and admitted, "I tend, still, to think of myself as more French than English, sometimes. I apologize if I slip. I've been here for a long time, but some habits--one's identity--are difficult to overthrow."
Una slipped into French without so much as blinking, though hers was accented and a bit archaic even by Cassius' standard. She must have learned to speak it many centuries ago. "Yes, I understand. I have a great affection for all things French; I remember the days when Scotland and France stood together more often than not with fondness. For myself, the closest analogy is my fondness for Scotland, though I also love Ireland and Wales. I have lived on this island for--" her eyes grew distant and she counted a little "--perhaps seventeen or eighteen centuries? At a certain point I stopped counting, though the regularising of the calendar helped a little with keeping track. I dwelt at first in Scotland, but I have been visiting England and other parts since the beginning. I don't think I've been back to France since well before the Revolution, though. Perhaps we will visit at some point, and consider our fond memories."
"It would be my pleasure to visit with you. I return when I can; the coven has some small holdings in France, although my own have been lost. It's just as well; I gave up the claim to them when I gave up my name. And my life, as it was," Cassius remarked, not sounding too regretful on that point after so long to come to terms with it.
He had also switched gladly to French, with a smile for Una's generosity in doing so. "You have seen a great deal of history, madam. I have a lot to learn from you. I'm looking forward to it," he added, in case there was any doubt, when a man and lord might consider himself superior to his lady wife on principle. When that lady wife spoke casually of seventeen or eighteen centuries spent on the British Isles, a man and lord would be wise to take her counsel as his equal.
"I'm sorry that I can't return the favour and speak in your native language, although I would be happy to learn some, if it would please you." Cassius tapped one long finger against the head of his walking stick. "Will you mind living here in England, rather than Scotland? Or would you wish to acquire a house there, under the Ravensworth name, so that you may split your time between London and Scotland? There is also Eslington Park, of course, in Northumberland, and Ravensworth Castle in Tyne and Wear, which are both at your disposal. I hope you will find both of them comfortable, and well removed from any unpleasant effects you might feel here in the city."
"I have in the past travelled to Balmore, but a closer retreat such as Eslington Park or Ravensworth Castle is always welcome. London becomes close more quickly these since the Metropolitan Railway opened. I keep purchasing property on the outskirts of London, but then London greedily expands to consume it." Una shrugged, as if it was to be expected. "We can find a weekend estate close enough by if it becomes a concern; but I appreciate your kindness and consideration."
Cassius smiled a little, not unkindly. "That's a very diplomatic way of not answering the question, my lady," he observed. "Should I take that to mean there are aspects to this arrangement that may not be to your liking, and relocation to England might be one of them? As useful as the railway may be, I can't imagine it has any advantages for you in traveling."
It was something they'd talked about somewhat in group negotiations, Cassius' anti-industrial sentiments and Una's own love for independent artists and craftsmen. Some of the common ground they'd found for their alliance was in a mutual dislike of the iron rails and cars that had begun to criss-cross the countryside.
It was gently done, and Una appreciated his tact. And for once, the use of 'my lady' was appropriate. "London is an attractive nuisance, and is so regardless of the issues of the marriage. While I could build a court in Balmore or any of the Ravensworth estates and attract the artists and artisans and poets I desire for company, it's so much simpler to live in London just now; and that has nothing to do with our agreements. I simply wish the city were less--" Una made a moue of distaste "--industrial. Full of iron and smoke."
"Something we both agree on," Cassius agreed. "As you know, anything I may do to turn the tide of industry, or to direct it into more productive avenues for us, I will."
He paused, but she had referenced the subject, however obliquely, and it seemed as gentle a way to introduce the subject as any. "Speaking of artists and poets--should I expect that we will have company and entertainment at dinners, once you take up residence? I hope it's not indelicate to inquire after your health before our marriage, but I would hope to keep you happy and comfortable."
"It is my nature to seek such company, and I have long served as a patron of the arts. But of course you may excuse yourself from those events you find tedious--I do not take it personally--and I should be pleased to use my social events to further our mutual agendas. Politicians, mundane and otherwise, are attracted to such events. I would like to make our home known for great events that unite beauty and power. And I shall do my best not to embarrass you--an unfortunate effect of my nature is that artists sometimes become obsessed and that can be--" Una made another moue of distaste "--messy."
"I'm certain you have no need of a champion to defend your honour, but should you wish one, I am of course at your disposal. And you will be my wife, and Lady Ravensworth; nothing about your nature will ever be cause for embarrassment." Cassius paused, seeing another, more innocent avenue of conversation beckoning, and chose for the moment to ignore it in favour of directness. "We don't need to speak of it, but I'm sure you realize I will have to make...arrangements of my own, according to my nature. I wouldn't want you to consider those an insult."
"Of course not. I am aware of your need for sustenance and your position requires discretion; that is all I ask." Una smiled and let enough of the glamour fall from her face that Cassius could see that her own teeth were pointed. "I object to unnecessary killing if only because blood can be difficult to get out of the rugs. But my understanding is that you do not consume to the point of death in most cases."
The casual way she spoke and the sight of her sharp, dangerous smile stirred Cassius' blood, and for the first time he considered that he might have an absolute partner in Una Nicnevin, someone who knew and understood him, and who challenged him at the same time.
"I would never damage your rugs, Lady," Cassius replied gravely, although his eyes twinkled with a hidden smile. "Nor would I harm one of your artists, or anyone else under your protection. The hospitality of my house will be yours entirely."
Now he could pursue the more innocent line of questioning, his tone light again. "Do you have any favourites among artists at the moment? I shall come to rely on your expertise in such matters, I expect. I have an appreciation for the arts myself, but have not made a career of it. My attention tends to be devoted to politics and industry, I'm afraid. A well-chosen diversion at your direction would be welcome."
"I have been much involved with the Glasgow School and its adherents and also the followers of William Morris. His daughter May, who is the head of the Embroidery Department in his firm, is a particular favourite of mine; I have a number of her wall hangings in my home, which I shall be happy to bring to Ravensworth. Mr Oscar Wilde is a particular favourite as a poet, and of painters, I currently admit to a partiality for Mr James Ensor of Belgium, though I like a number of our English painters who have followed on with mythological subjects such as the reign of Arthur.
"While I have kept my political involvements limited in the light of the recent war, at least on the shadow side, expanding my salons to include a wider range of politicians, or using them as motivation for certain personages, is an expected part of our agreement." She pondered for a moment, and added, "Do you wish me to redecorate your home in London, or at least the public sections of it? I can certainly begin to make inquiries."
Cassius smiled openly now. "Mrs Nicnevin--Una," Cassius dared the familiarity, which felt strange on his tongue but right at the same time. "It will be your home as well. I want you to be as comfortable as possible. Please, have a free hand with the decorating. It will be expected anyway, with a new lady of the household in residence."
The carriage slowed, and Cassius glanced out the window to confirm that they had arrived at their destination. "I look forward to seeing Mr Ensor's works. I do know Wilde, and Mr Morris." When the driver opened the carriage door, Cassius stepped down and displaced him, holding out his own hand to assist Una in disembarking. "I hope I have the pleasure of introducing you to the Criterion; the last time I visited here, I thought of you at once. There are paintings on the walls here by those I am assured are the best in the world." His eyes twinkled again at that. "I believe I shall let you be the judge of that."
Una took Cassius' hand and stepped out of the carriage, looking round with interest. "I have not ever been to the Criterion, and I am pleased to discover it with you as guide to its pleasures." Her eyes were alight and she was smiling with delight: a smile that, since others could see, appeared utterly human, with pearly but rounded teeth.
Cassius offered his arm, and escorted Una inside. The place was alight, filled with conversation and laughter and smoke, and the walls were, as promised, hung all around with paintings of all sorts. They were greeted and ushered inside to the Long Bar at Cassius' request, where a massive gold-ground mosaic stretched across the ceiling over them.
"The dining rooms are upstairs, but I didn't want you to miss this," Cassius explained, gesturing to the marble statues flanking the doorway. To the host hovering attendant on them, he said, "You may show us our table, but I believe the lady would like to take in the room, first."
Una took a moment to do exactly that, visibly admiring the statuary, the paintings, the ceiling, and all the small details, and not least the way they came together to create an overall impression. The summer heat was momentarily dispelled a little with the force of her pleasure. A smile broke out across her face: the moon lighting the evening sky. "Ah, what a lovely place. The tilework is like that at the South Kensington Museum; if you haven't seen it, we must go together at some time. You'll find much to interest you." She was outright beaming at Cassius.
"But let us not delay our evening. Pray, lead us upstairs."
It was a generous show of sentiment, for one such as Una. Cassius had no doubt she'd seen far more marvels in her time than a little gold on a mosaic. They went upstairs to find their table, and Cassius asked Una's indulgence to choose the wine and offer her something suitably French.
He had switched to English upon entering the restaurant, but as they waited for the bottle, Cassius lapsed back into French. "We've spoken at length of our common interests and goals," he observed. "And as you intend to extend your influence to politicians, so I plan to support artists of your choice. Negotiations and terms aside, however..." He studied her face, his gaze frank and open. "If you harbor any private doubts, I hope I may convince you during our courtship to lay them to rest. Or to soothe them, if I may. It seems as though these talks have gone on for an age, but for you..."
His lips twitched. "Most here would tell me it's a grave insult to reference a lady's age, but I mean only respect when I say that it must seem an eyeblink to you, and if you feel rushed, I do sympathize. Making a choice you feel is best doesn't always mean you rest easy after the decision."
"You are generous to say so. It is true that while I ally with your coven, the personal aspects of marriage are, well, personal. It is reassuring that you are interested in the more personal and companionable aspects of the marriage. I have managed alone for some time, and am used to it, being naturally of an independent nature. If you had preferred to make our union an alliance of convenience, I would have understood, but you have clearly gone to some effort to indulge and engage me, so I take this as a positive sign for our future." There was more to be said on several fronts, but this was a moment for the direct and personal, so Una touched on a subject of her own.
"A gentleman of your own age and history will undoubtedly also have many interests, both of a personal nature and of a ... more intimate one. I am not offended if you have a cherie, or a cher, whom you also wish to maintain a, ah, friendship, or whose advice you may wish to rely on as well as my own. I am not unfamiliar with the practice of the maitresse-en-titre and if you have one such, I only ask, as with other matters, a certain amount of discretion." Una tilted her head, watching Cassius, and added, "I am also not averse to meeting any such person and bringing them into our confidence to the extent that you find it wise."
Cassius might have chuckled, would it not have been rude considering the serious and respectful nature of Una's remarks. Nor might she have been wrong--Cassius had been waiting for nearly a century to become earl, and he had not been chaste for all that time, nor before it. When the subject of marriage had become serious, however, Cassius had set aside dalliance for the more important matters of politics and alliance.
"Flattered as I am to be compared to the King of France, the coven holds the majority of my time and affections. I owe them a great deal, and it's their hand which guides mine. I'm afraid you do have a rival there, but not in the sense of a lover. There will be no other mistress in my house. I appreciate your understanding, however."
The wine arrived, and with it the production of uncorking and inhaling, receiving approval and pouring. Cassius waited until the waiter had gone again before continuing, "I could hope, similarly, not to be jealous. Do you expect that I may have reason? I would never ask any liberty which you did not wish to give, although I feel I should make myself clear: I find myself deeply invested in your personal happiness, and should not wish you to want for anything, nor to be unsatisfied in this match. If the honour is mine to serve as husband in more than name, I will not treat it lightly. You are a beautiful woman, and I have come to hold you in high esteem during the brief time we've been acquainted. I would consider you my partner in every way, should you desire it."
Una took the wine and let it settle a little as she considered his words. "Let me be clear: my nature as muse does not require consummation. Some of those I inspire may wish it otherwise. Some, for various reasons of their own, do not. But none who are in my circle now are my lovers, and in the interest of discretion and in honour of our commitment, I have made it clear that my patronage will not involve any conduct my new husband might not approve. So there is no obligation that prevents me from accepting your offer."
She raised her glass. "To marriage, and partnership, then."