Panic and Distress [ 5/4 Rupert / Marisa ]

[Lord Rupert de Vere]

At that, Rupert nodded with appreciation and agreement to her ideas regarding Daven St. Claire. "Exactly. You have the potential to take control of the situation, but if I may, make it more of an equal partnership. Make it clear to him that you are worthy of such, and I believe you will have a much more satisfying marriage. Trust me, I wish I had the same in mine," he commented dryly. "I will gather everything I have on the Trevelyan and have it sent to you. You will, indeed, be an expert by the Masque." She was a rather clever young woman, and Rupert was quite proud of her.

"There are always a few, but you make a good point, my niece," he chuckled quietly at the question regarding the virtue of the Lancaster females. The kiss to the jaw was distracting, but he did eventually think. "Mm, I see you believe that it is a time for shaking up the traditions. However, I want to see for myself if any woman that the Crown Prince was to marry is truly worthy of the Throne." He looked into her eyes, "Surely, you understand?"

[Lady Marisa de Vere]

Marisa listened attentively to the advice presented, examining it minutely to best understand it. He raised another valid point, especially as she had seen first-hand what resulted when a marriage was not an equal partnership. She viewed her uncle's marriage to his wife as little more than a living death for him; he deserved someone far greater than that woman and her waspish nature. His children were too much like their mother as well, utterly corrupted by her. It was a pity, really. Uncle needed someone who understood and supported him. "Yes, you are right. Having the information on Lord Trevelyan will only lend strength to my demand for equal ground between us, as I have access to information that he does not and cannot." A seed of an idea was taking root in her mind, one she was not yet ready to voice. A parting gift to him, so to speak.

"There may be indeed some, Uncle, but I speak only of the Lady Selena. Consider her sire. He has been a rival of Lord St. Claire's for some time, yet I have seen them with their heads together like a pair of clucking hens. It raises the question, have they overcome rivalry in favor of collaboration? And if so, on what?" Marisa laughed, but nodded. "Of course I understand. Breaking tradition for tradition's sake is no reason to support it. If she is not qualified or unworthy, better to avert the crisis now. And determine a suitable replacement." Had she been better connected, perhaps she might have been a candidate, but... no. Marisa, like Rupert, preferred to work in the shadows. "I will see what I can determine of her, I know my Lady Fiona has enjoyed an interview with her."

[Lord Rupert de Vere]

Rupert preferred to avoid thinking of his wife whenever he could. The marriage had been his brother's making, and nothing more. She gave him children, all of whom he considered to be a significant disappointment, and little else was born of the marriage. The man knew his wife hated him, and if he were honest with himself, he hated her, too. They were a poor match in every sense of the word, yet Rupert had done his honorable duty. Pah. "You shall have it by tomorrow, then."

"Please do. I want to know everything there is about Lady Selena. Based on my initial survey, if you will, I have found nothing that might tarnish her or the Prince's reputation. I also know want to know just what Lady Julia is up to. If she doesn't want to be Queen, then what? I refuse to believe she harbors no ambition; she is a St. Claire." The thought of Daven and Spencer working together did not bode all that well to Rupert for reasons he could not quite put a finger on. "Be careful my dear, we might very well be entering a world in which cats will start chasing dogs."

[Lady Marisa de Vere]

"Excellent. Thank you." She smiled, touching his cheek in an effort to banish the sadness she saw in his eyes. Rupert inevitably wore that look in thinking of his miserable excuse for a wife. Elise had been nothing but a thorn in the man's side, and her own by extension, his children unworthy to wear the de Vere name. Cruel as it sounded, Marisa viewed her cousins akin to piglets that should have been drowned at birth. Squealing, squalling, greedy fat little things that sucked life away.

Shaking the thought from her head, she nodded to his instructions regarding the two ladies. "Leave them to me. I will find a way to gain all you wish to know, though the St. Claire girl is notoriously difficult to approach. I may have to work through the younger sister, but I am sure there is a way." Marisa nodded thoughtfully. "If nothing else, Lord St. Claire may reveal it to me himself." At his warning to be careful, she laughed softly, "I am never truly careful, Uncle. It is the secret of my success. But wish me luck. I think I may need it."