Get these mothers 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝐞

God, please.

Scotch. Make it a double at that

“Isn’t it always?” A short, low laugh was given. “And you? Something troubles you?”

For your regency masquerade viewing pleasure

Drink in hand, Kit quietly makes his rounds about the ballroom. He stops here and there to converse or give hellos to acquaintances.

He is sitting at the breakfast table, food practically untouched as he sat back, the daily newspaper having taken his interest.

Business in the city today. He will be out of the house for a better part of the day.

“How’s your dance card?” He murmured from behind his glass down to his sister. This had been his dreadful life now; a nagging mother trying to marry off his sister. Damn his own mother for making him do as such, the crazy fool. 𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑅𝐼𝐷.

He can be found hunched over his desk, furiously writing and scribbling his notes before his thoughts are lost. There is no light apart from the single candle beside him. His white shirt is pulled from his pants, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he works.

He’s taking a leisure horse ride in the park between his appointments for the day —

Dinner at the Vienna tonight with a few business partners. The Valerian is sure to follow for some drinks.