Thread: Belle du Jour {Prince x Showmeyouloveme}

Prince Valmont , heir to the Duchy of Auvergne, shifted in pain as the carriage bounced down the country lane. His seat was well padded and the carriage luxurious with ample springs, but the roads this far from Paris were so rutted and potholed that coach travel was agonizing. It was truly the country out here, and his destination was a bit further afield than most of the other noble manors he frequented in the summer. The young man would gladly trade his carriage for a good horse in a heartbeat, but of course, he couldn't be seen arriving mounted to this event so he gritted his teeth and endured, fanning himself slowly in the stifling heat. Valmont was a tall man, still in his early twenties and most notably sporting an unruly head of youthful brown hair. He eschewed the powdered wigs worn by the older nobility, although his outfit in all other respects was in perfect, modern style. The light blue jacket he wore had a high collar and intricate gold trim on it's cuffs and buttons, while underneath a white satin vest peeked out ornamented with subtle details of dark blue threading across the front. A silk shirt hid underneath it all, fringed with lace at the sleeves that made gaudy explosions from his cuffs, while the neck had a soaring collar that his satin blue bow tie accented with a blossom-like knot. The tall, black leather boots that capped his outfit nearly covered the stockings that started at his knees. They were functional boots, more for riding than dancing, and broadcast that he was a fan of hunting and riding as much as cocktails and dinner parties. His piercing blue eyes were a family trademark, but today they stared sightlessly at the passing fields as he contemplated the upcoming party. The estate Valmont was headed to for the week was another in the series of fetes planned by the idle, jaded gentry of Paris that fled to the countryside in the heat of summer. This event was only notable in that it marked a new entrant to the society scene in the household of the aging Marquis de Coventry. More accurately, a first entry by his new, much younger and more socially ambitious wife, Miria. Valmont's acceptance of their invitation had caused quite a bit of a stir. He had snubbed the Marquise de Merteuil's fete this year, an act which he was sure he would hear about for weeks and for which he would need to beg forgiveness from the stylish Marquise herself. A large number of guests had followed his lead and decided to attend the Coventry's instead, among them no shortage of notable names in society. Many were curious about his decision and wondered what the Coventry's could possibly offer at their estate to tempt him. Others just wanted to make sure they were where the most amusement would be had. A new couple attempting to enter the fickle and cruel social scene, full of sharpened nails and vicious judgments, would no doubt commit gaffs and foibles that would entertain as gossip for the season. Valmont had never divulged his real motivation, despite a flurry of questions. That the Lady Coventry herself was the temptation that called him down this bumpy road would be scandalous gossip that would spread too quickly. It was a foolish decision, Valmont decided with a sigh that drew his handsome, angular features into a frown. This would undoubtedly be a provincial and gauche fete, a country mockery of sophisticated entertainment by an old Lord that hadn't spent time in court in a decade. And the Lady herself, well, what use seeing her now? Valmont, however, still remembered summers years ago, in his teens, when Miria and he had spent time at the King's own country palace. Her family, much wealthier then, had been in the upper crust of French nobility. He, of course, was much more innocent in those days and their friendship had been chaste but true. Her family's fall from grace after losing their lands to debt collectors had been swift and whatever adolescent fantasies he had of marrying had been crushed just as quickly. Indeed it was a miracle that she had found a match this past year with Lord Edward Coventry, a smaller, but wealthy Lord in search of an heir after the childless death of his first wife decades ago. Valmont had read the marriage announcement with a touch of regret, he admitted, and when the Coventry invitation had come this Spring, he had been among the first to answer. The carriage made a sharp turn and entered a better graded lane leading up to the Coventry manor. Tall, well pruned oaks lined the driveway and soon the white stone walls of the chateau itself appeared. The large building sat atop a low hill, surrounded by sheep meadows and tended gardens in bloom. Valmont was impressed by the exterior of the estate at least. Clearly the Coventry's had maintained the grounds well and the house looked respectable in size and appearance. Perhaps this wouldn't be a complete embarrassment for them. The stone courtyard before the Chateau was filled with carriages as the guests had begun to arrive. Footmen and manservants scurried to and fro to unload the baggage. Horses and carriages were hastily being led off to the stables or the nearby meadow to await untacking. A spot opened for his carriage as he approached. His horses came to a stop as a footman ran to open his door, bowing low. Blinking in the bright sunlight, Valmont rose up to exit and his eyes fell upon his hosts. Miria and her much older husband, Edward Coventry, stood at the the steps greeting a guest that had arrived before him. So, there she was again after all these years.