#and almack's assembly rooms

[samayla]

Whoops... I tripped and wrote a 4,000-word ball scene in Utterly Impractical this morning...

[falsedivined]

━━  ⊰  [  sam  reid  ,  37  ,  cisgender man  ,  he/him  ]  the  ton  is  buzzing  !  have  you  heard  ?  ALBEMARLE  DORMER  ,  BARON  DORMER  has  arrived  in  mayfair  !  i  have  been  told  that  he  is  +  INSIGHTFUL  &  +  CORDIAL  but  are  also  -  MACHIAVELLIAN  &  -  RECKLESS  but  we  shall  know  more  about  them  as  the  season  progresses.  they  aim  to  SECURE  HIS  FAMILY'S  FORTUNE  before  the  season  ends.  we  cannot  be  too  sure  but  it  is  said  that  their  loyalties  lie  WITH  THEIR  FAMILY.  how  true  ?  we  are  yet  to  find  out.

QUICK  FACTS.

NAME:  albemarle  codrington  dormer  NICKNAME:  albie  AGE:  thirty-seven  PLACE OF BIRTH:  oxfordshire,  england  ETHNICITY:  anglo-irish  GENDER:  cisgender  man  PRONOUNS:  he/him  ORIENTATION:  bisexual  RELIGION:  roman  catholic  PARENTS:  swynfen  coare  dormer  (  baron  )  &  albertine  makepeace  dormer  née  learmonth  (  baroness  )  SIBLINGS  utp,  ophelia  dormer  LANGUAGES:  english,  french,  ancient  greek  (  fluent  )  latin,  gaeilge  (  conversational  )  german  (  basics  )   EDUCATION:  eton,  oxford  OCCUPATION:  nominally  an  antiquarian,  in  actuality  the  owner  of  white  rabbit  HOBBIES  &  INTERESTS:  gambling,  travelling,  antiquaries,  fencing,  poetry  RESIDENCES  newcastle  house  (  london  )  steeple  barton  manorhouse  (  oxfordshire  )

PARALLELS.

alexei  ivanovich  (  the  gambler  )    tom  ripley  (  the  talented  mr.  ripley  )    sisyphus  (  mythology  )    tantalus  (  mythology  )    ozymandias  (  watchmen  )

SNAPSHOT.

tl;dr  giant  faker  of  a  man  does  the  whole  ‘hey  kid  wanna  do  drugs’  routine  on  the  whole  ton  and.  somehow  this  works?  bc  ppl  can’t  help  but  woobify  a  white  man  with  a  sob  story 

aka  tom  ripley  if  he  was  born  rich tw   for  references  to  gambling,  death

the  rumours  are  aplenty,    but  perhaps  none  moreso  whispered  than  this:    there  is  a  rot  in  baron  dormer’s  soul.

consider,    perhaps,    his  smile:    too  easy,    too  wide,    too  generous.    perhaps,    if  his  automatic  response  to  anything  is  to  smile,    this  habit  then  leading  into  one  or  two  moments  of  embarrassment  to  be  gleefully  traded  around  the  ton,    then  it  would  be  a  non-affair.    as  it  is,    he  would  offer  you  a    how  do  you  do?    he  would  ask  you  how  your  kids  have  been.    he  will  make  it  seem  as  if  he  is  interested  in  you,    your  life,    your  hopes,    your  dreams,    your  fears    —    worst  of  all,    he  might  even  become  your  friend,    offering  you  a  shoulder  to  cry  on,    honeyed  words  of  advice,    a  strong  hand  to  push  you  where  you  have  always  needed  to  go.

do  not  be  fooled:    there  is  no  room  for  friendship  in  the  baron  dormer’s  soul.

consider,    too,    his  gregariousness.    he’s  no  fool.    he  knows  the  things  being  whispered  about  him.    he  knows  that  you  have  been  talked  to  death  about  his  loss  of  fortune,    his  predilection  for  the  gambling  table,    the  death  of  his  wife,    his  back-alley  dealings,    his  magnetism  for  scandals,    his  propensity  for  being  pitied.    he  knows  all  these    —    and  yet,    when  he  talks  to  you,    doubtless  knowing  what  it  is  he  knows,    it  is  as  if  all  is  forgotten.    he  must  have  known  you  exchanged  whispers  about  him  with  miss  tyrwhitt-prufrock  in  almacks  assembly  hall,    but  see  him  come  to  you  now.    see  him  offer  you  his  smile,    his  companionship,    his  easy  humour,    his  amiability.    he  must  have  heard,    hadn’t  he?    —    but  then  again,    perhaps,    maybe  not,    for  how  else  could  he  still  show  his  face  to  the  ton?

he  will  offer  you  a  smile.    he  will  ask  you  how  you’ve  been.    he  will  ask  about  your  children  at  home,    your  hunting  grounds  in  the  country,    your  latest  troubles  in  trying  to  marry  off  your  eldest.    he  will  have  you  talking  so  much  about  yourself  that  you  will  feel  yourself  rude,    being    so  self-absorbed,    and  so  you  will  ask  him  about  himself.    he  will  smile.    he  always  smiles.    he  will  talk  to  you  about  his  journey  to  greece,    where  he  talks  about  how,    in  years  and  centuries  past,    maenads  will  dance  themselves  into  a  frenzy.    communed  with  the  divine.    have  you  ever  felt  that?    he  will  ask.    have  you  ever  felt  the  divine  touch  your  soul?    i  am  not  talking  here  of  religion.    here,    he  will  laugh  a  charming  kind  of  laugh.    you  must  steel  yourself  against  his  laugh.    you  must  steel  yourself  against  him.    i  am  talking  of  something  more,    something  better,    something  purer—

there  is  something,    you  are  beginning  to  realise,    about  the  way  he  talks.

later    —    much  later,    perhaps  days,    perhaps  weeks    —    he  will  come  up  to  you  again.    he  will  tell  you  how  business  seems  to  be  booming.    you  try  to  remember:    he  did  say  something,    didn’t  he,    about  his  antiquaries  business?    he  will  laugh  when  you  remind  him  of  this,    and  you  laugh  along,    even  though  you  don’t  know  why.    he  just  has  that  way  about  him.    you  extend  him  condolences  for  his  loss    —    something  that  you,    in  your  predilection  for  smutty  rumours,    have  completely  forgotten    —    and  you  almost  see  his  façade  crumble.    yet  he  will  pull  himself  together.    he  will  thank  you  for  your  thoughtfulness.

you  will  realise,    then  and  there,    that  he  has  been  putting  up  a  front.

fool  that  you  are,    you  do  not  know  that  this  is  yet  another.

the  rumours  are  aplenty,    but  perhaps  none  moreso  whispered  than  this:    the  right  honourable  lord  dormer  must  be  pitied,    for  all  that  he  has  suffered.

A  DEEPER  LOOK.

mad,   bad,   and  dangerous  to  know:   blond-haired  byron  serving  machievallian  realness  while  even  having  the  raging  philhellenism.  does  not,    however,    use  it  to  die  a  needless  martyr’s  death  in  greece  but  does  use  it  to  buy  and  sell  antiquaries  he  could  reliably  prove  (  or  forge  )  the  provenance  of.    for  even  more  lord  byron  plagiarism  fodder:  also  writes  poetry    —    though,    alas,    he  publishes under a pseudonym.

is  quite  a  good  chess  player,   and  went  to  schönbrunn  palace  during  his  grand  tour  of  europe  to  battle  with  the  mechanical  turk.  soundly  lost.   rues  the  war  on  europe  simply  bc  it  barred  him  from  a  rematch  and  now  supposedly  the  owner’s  shuttered  the  whole  thing  down.

absolutely  shits  where  he  eats:   has  zero  (0)  qualms  enjoying  his  own  wares.   sometimes  brings  it  with  him  in  social  function  and  offers  freebies  to  anyone  discerning  enough  to  ask   —   provided,   of  course,   that  it’s  only  to  prove  what  the  other’s  been  missing  out  on.

WANTED  CONNECTIONS.

people  whom  he’s  owed  gambling  debts  to  which  have  now  been  paid  off  and  heaven  knows  they’re  suspicious  about  the  source  of  the  money  they  received  as  payment  but.    how  does  one  exactly  go  about  returning  crime-tainted  money?

people  he’s  probably  done  the  tactic  on  in  the  snapshot  above.    i  dare  say  this  goes  for  most  of  the  members  of  the  ton,    but  he  basically  just  uses  the  whole  season  to  scope  out  customers  for  his  other  business.

bosom  buddies  from  oxford  and  eton,    whom  he  doubtless  still  keeps  up  with  because  he  has  mentally  never  grown  past  being  a  teenager  with  no  responsibilities.    on  a  more  serious  note:   quite  probably  his  first  love  also  falls  here.    whether  or  not  it  was  requited  is  utp  and  i’m  not  averse  to  this  person  being,    like.    his  green  light  or  whatever.

[thebritspaper]

The Brits Paper, February 1815.

Para pembaca tersayang,

Minggu ini, Penulis akan memberikan beberapa informasi yang sangat hangat, juga beberapa fun fact mengenai society kita.

Berita pertama, sudah tak lagi hangat seperti pelukan mantan, dibuka dengan pengumuman mengenai The Incomparable Gallant dan Diamond dalam Welcoming Party yang digelar di Briton's Hall, Lady KP (yi***) dan Lord MA (SUN***K***). Seperti yang kita ketahui,The Incomparable Gallant dan Diamond dipilih melalui beberapa kriteria, yang mana salah satunya adalah mereka yang paling tanggap mengumpulkan misi biodata, dan tentu saja paling kreatif dan cantik. Mewakili rasa penasaran para Nobbyovolents yang tampak meragukan kecekatan mereka, Penulis pun ikut bertanya-tanya, kira-kira joki mana yang mereka gunakan, ya?

Selanjutnya, berita menggemparkan pertama datang dari seorang Lord berinisial JR (@in***) yang diketahui bahwa ayahandanya telah bangkit dari kubur! Beliau mengatakan ayahandnya sudah meninggal menjadi ubi, namun bangkit kembali untuk menemani dia di kehidupan yang keras ini. Bagaimana ini bisa terjadi? Apakah beliau menggunakan kekuatan sihir?

Isu selanjutnya yang lebih mengejutkan, seorang Marquess ternama berinisial AG (@yeu****), ingin mengambil harta dari seorang Lady! Beliau meminta hadiah ulang tahun, di sisi lain seseorang yang sebenarnya sedang berulang tahun adalah Lady tersebut... Perbuatan yang sangat sangat tidak mencerminkan seorang Marquess.. ckckck..

Berikut kami menghubungi orang yang pernah satu klub pargoy dengannya.

Sebelum beralih ke berita yang lebih hot, penulis ini akan menyelipkan suatu fakta unik, apakah kalian sudah siap? Pada tahun 1815, fakta menarik kali ini adalah Almack’s Assembly Room—yang kini resmi berubah nama menjadi Briton's Social Club—berada pada puncak pengaruh sosialnya. Almack's adalah salah satu klub sosial paling eksklusif di London, di mana hanya masyarakat cremé de la cremé yang dapat menghadiri pesta mingguan ini. Tiket masuknya hanya melalui voucher, diberikan oleh sekelompok Lady Patroness, menjadikannya simbol status sosial yang didambakan. Diundang ke Almack's berarti kamu benar-benar telah memasuki masyarakat kelas atas Regency.

Kabar terpanas terakhir datang dari gossip yang beredar dari mulut ke mulut. Seperti yang kita ketahui bahwa di society yang sempit ini, informasi sekecil apapun akan sangat cepat menyebar dan diketahui orang seluruh masyarakat di dalam lingkungan bangsawan ini. Kabar terbaru diketahui dari Lord berinisal TK (@Mut***), seorang Viscount. Beliau menyebarkan berita bahwa saat mengikuti game event tempo hari, Lady tidak dianjurkan mengikuti kegiatan tersebut karena permainan tersebut merupakan permainan “LUCKY LUCKY”. Tak disangka, di umur yang masih belia, beliau sudah harus mengeluarkan jokes dewasa—bapak-bapak demi mendapatkan dua buah reaksi emoji tertawa. Begini tanggapan Lesti mengenai kejadian ini.

Para pembaca tersayang,

Penulis mendapati bahwa saya pribadi saat ini sangat bersemangat untuk membagikan kabar-kabar terpanas dan termewah sepanjang masa. Sepertinya assembly yang telah dilaksanakan tempo hari akan membawa banyak sekali berita paling ditunggu oleh para pembaca. Tanpa perlu khawatir, Penulis akan kembali dengan berbagai fakta dan kabar terhangat selanjutnya di awal bulan Mei.

Dengan pena yang dapat mendengar semua hal,

Miss Chatterley.

[lucyofedinburgh]

A Tuesday evening in early April, 1800 After supper, before dinner Almack’s Assembly Rooms

As the third quadrille began, Lucy found herself without a partner -- and without feeling in her toes. She made her way gratefully off the dance floor, giving the line of gentlemen a cursory scan for her husband, but found Sebastian to be absent. The punch chased away her worry, and she felt a pang of it, then. Lucy acquired a cup.

Meandering around the edge of the room, she spied him down a long hallway, admiring something mounted to the wall. A smile, secretive and bemused, twisted her rosy lips. Lucy did not follow. The numbness had spread to her smallest toes.

It was an ungainly dance, led by a hapless fop with a mis-cast sense of rhythm. Already, she could feel Lady Jersey’s disdain rising at the ordeal, two mulberry spots of flame high in her cheeks. Lucy’s amusement only continued, sallying through the standing crowd to gain a better view.

She paused next to a gentlemen, also watching. A cursory glance at his profile lent no familiarity. Had she been different -- perhaps more demure, perhaps brunette, perhaps English -- she may have kept her thoughts to herself. But Lucy had never been any of those things, and Sebastian was looking at art.

Inclining her head toward the man, Lucy lowered her voice.

“Goodness. They let just anyone in here, don’t they?”

@thomasyardley​​

[triviareads]

What is Almack?

Referring to this ask

Almack's generally refers to a set of assembly rooms in London that was upper class, mixed-sex, and public (as opposed to private homes where people gave events), that held balls and events and whatnot. The patronesses of Almack's came from the highest levels of aristocracy (Lady Cowper- later Lady Palmerson, Lady Jersey, and even foreign aristocrats like the Countess de Lieven were among the Lady Patronesses), and they were notoriously exclusive with their invitations. You pretty much had to be a member of the aristocracy and they were known for excluding anyone just because they disliked them or they didn't adhere to the "right manners". So Almack's was more exclusive and catered to the highest levels of society as opposed to court which was actually less selective with who was presented. Besides, Court and the queen (the real Queen Charlotte) weren't the most up to date with the times and they were regarded as kinda fusty. Basically, if you were of a certain class as a debutante, it was a done deal that you could be presented at court, but your parents were desperately trying to procure you a voucher to Almack's because that was the symbol of true societal acceptance.

Almack's is mentioned in the Bridgerton books (I think Simon mentions it once), and I think they might have set a scene in "Almack's" in the tv show. It would also make sense that a voucher to Almack's would be a given for the Bridgerton family, though less so for families like the Sheffields and whatnot.

[hermajesty-charlotte]

13 July 1799 Almacks Assembly Rooms, The Ballroom

Separate from the dining room, the ballroom is usually reserved for its preliminary purpose: dancing. But today, it has been transformed into a room befitting a queen. Specifically, this queen.

Charlotte adjourned the luncheon a few minutes before the rest, leading her trailing court away from the trays of petit-fours and to a room dazzled in soft petal pink and rich blue. Converting the musicians’ podium into a pedestal for the Queen and her court, she sits resplendent on a large chair, pillars topped with pink roses springing up like little trees in the summer. 

The courtiers behind her are flush with chatter, whispers and secrets spreading like brushfire. Every so often, one bends to entice Queen Charlotte in their merriment, and she laughed. It is at that moment that a name is announced, and a couple steps forward.

---

See this post to reply to this starter!

[ladywinsomes]

Late July // Afternoon // Almack’s // open starter

Lydia smoothed her dress nervously as she made her way to the table in the corner of the assembly room. A draft hit her suddenly, nearly knocking her off her trembling feet. It had been nearly a year since Lydia last graced the halls of the expansive club. A year since she had sat with the other Patronesses, gawking and gossiping about the young ladies of the Ton. 

If she were to be honest, Lydia is not quite sure how or why she became a Patroness. It had started as innocently as being given a voucher by Countess Beesley the morning after her engagement to Heathcliff was announced. She remembers the way her Mama beamed and squeezed her wrist during the short visit. Before Lydia knew it, she was spending nearly every day with the Patronesses, in some way or another. Whether it be a simple ice at Gunter’s or a promenade by the Serpentine. 

Two years into her marriage to Heathcliff, Lydia found herself elected a Patroness. The honor was far too genuine than anything she had felt since being presented her betrothal ring, so of course she accepted. Sure, deep down in the depths of her soul, she felt like a fraud. Yes, she deserved this, it’s what she’d worked for since turning 15. However, the sparkle faded with each season. The other Patronesses became haughtier and all mooned over their blossoming families, and all Lydia could do was sit and listen to them recount the daily milestones of their babes. Every time one learned to scoot across the floor or said their first word, Lydia’s heart ached for the child that she knew wasn’t coming. 

So now, as she sat in her old haunt, sipping her tea and perusing a novel, Lydia felt so completely isolated. She looked up at the sound of voices coming from the door. Lady Sefton and Lady Grimes were shuffling in a young debutante whom she did not recognize. The young lady had a fine face and was dressed beautifully. As they made their way closer to Lydia’s table, she made eye contact and smiled brightly. Without even a glance in her direction, the two elder ladies swept past her and to a table clear on the other side of the room. 

The pain that came was nothing like Lydia had expected. She thought these women were her friends. She felt the tears prick at her eyes, and a shaky sigh escaped her chest. 

[francesackerley]

Early Afternoon || Early April 1800 || Almack’s Assembly Rooms

It was a hazard of stately marble institutions like Almack’s that voices were prone to carry. To the gossiping eavesdropper this unintended consequence of architecture was a treat, but there were times when it posed a disadvantage. 

If, for example, one had been allotted a voucher on provisional terms following a sizable donation to the charity of a patroness’s choosing, they might not appreciate having the eyes and ears of every lady in proximity drawn to them by the shrieking of a mad woman. 

“How have you managed tickets?!”

A humiliated flush warmed Frances’s cheeks, but her voice was all ice as she coolly replied, “Lady Danby, a pleasure to see you as always.” Her arm, looped through Cordelia’s, tugged the lady closer as she encouraged herself to stand tall. “I have long held a voucher for Almack’s, my mother as well. Duchess Andilet has been so fortunate as to say the same, and now her daughter–”

It didn’t seem possible, but Lady Danby’s voice grew louder as she obstinately talked over Frances. The hall provided unnecessary acoustics, she was nearly shouting now. “Could it be for the best that my ticket was misplaced– and it was misplaced.” Lady Danby darted a bug-eyed look in the direction of the doorman. “Better to endure being wronged in this most distressing way than be forced into the company of adventuresses and– and nobodies!” She gesticulated wildly, first at Frances and then toward Cordelia, nearly knocking off the hat of a lady nearby in the process. 

@ladycordelialouise​

[beckylower]

Assembly Rooms: Party Time

Assembly Rooms: Party Time

If you’ve ever had to arrange a venue for a large celebration of some kind, you know the difficulty in finding a place the offers space to accommodate a large number of guests, a dance floor, and also elegance. In Georgian England most towns of any size had dedicated rooms for that purpose. They called them assembly rooms. These places play a familiar and treasured role in historical romance,…

[timetravelbypen]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan Additional Tags: Historical, Regency, the Doctor changes outfits to be historically accurate, Yaz: Disaster Gay, the Doctor: tired and sad and licks rocks, No Spoilers, oh no she's hot, Soft!!!, thasmin Summary:

Yaz and the Doctor go to a dance at Almack's Assembly Rooms in 1813, and Yaz convinces the Doctor to go all in on the historical costuming for a change.

[alj4890]

None But You

Request from @pixieferry for (Thomas x Amanda) in a Regency Era Romance.

A/N This was originally meant as a one shot but my mind decided to stretch it out and @pixieferry was very encouraging toward my madness. This story takes place in London around 1819. I'm not sure how many parts this mini series will have yet or who will appear, but here we go 😉

Our Main Characters: Lord Thomas Hunt, Viscount Kirkwood of Kirkwood Manor in Norfolk. Lady Amanda Bridgerton, heiress to Snowfield Abbey in Doncaster. 

@graceful-popcorn @krsnlove @alleksa16 @hopelessromantic1352 @pixieferry

Masterlist

Chapter 1

"Now then. We must go directly to a modiste as soon as possible. If you are to have a proper season amongst the ton then the right wardrobe has to be purchased." Lady Lucinda Bridgerton explained to her niece.

"Yes ma'am." The young lady softly responded. She gazed out at the fashionable homes in London's Mayfair. Amanda Bridgerton tried not to dwell on the reasons for having to attend a London Season. It would do nothing but cause the tears she had yet to shed to fall from her eyes.

Her sweet, widowed aunt was all she had left for family. Her parents death three years earlier had revealed that their estate was near ruin. Her father had been the Earl of Snowfield. He had been a compassionate landowner that had made certain the families that farmed his lands and tended the sheep herds were taken care of during destitute times.

His wife had been of the same mindset and had trained their daughter to be a benevolent lady of the manor. When they died, her Uncle Nicholas and his wife, Lucinda, came to live at Snowfield Abbey. The new earl tried to continue his elder brother's mission but soon found that the coffers were nearly depleted.

He worked himself to death to try to recoup their losses and keep Snowfield and his family well taken care of. Now it was up to Amanda to make things right. The estate was beginning to thrive again yet there was a need that only a well established fortune could provide. The land alone would garner many a proposal from a titled gentleman. Her only wish was that she could marry for love. If not love, then perhaps she could have friendship with her husband.

"Here we are, dearest." Lady Lucinda stepped out of the carriage before a freshly painted building. They walked in and were immediately greeted by a whisper thin lady who spoke with a questionable French accent. Amanda lips curved in humor as she suspected the woman who asked to be called Marie, was really a Mary. She gestured dramatically while pretending to struggle to find the English words to describe Amanda's figure.

The young lady grimaced. There was no chance she would ever be considered a diamond among the upper class. She was the exact opposite of being deemed the ton's incomparable. Instead of a willowy, blonde angel with blue eyes; Amanda was cursed with her father's dark hair and eyes along with her great grandmother's voluptuous figure. She was much too tall for a lady, or at least that was what some of the shorter gentlemen had been heard to whisper at the local assemblies.

Her aunt and the seamstresses debated over silks, velvets, and muslins. It was soon discovered that pastels made Amanda's skin appear sickly. Jewel tones brought out her peach tinted cheeks and made her dark hazel eyes sparkle. She was set on a stool and measured, poked, and remeasured.

After many hours of this particular torture, they were at last released. As they stepped outside, Amanda gazed longingly toward a shop with windows filled with books across the street. "Aunt Lucy? May we go in there before we return home?"

Lady Lucinda chuckled and linked her arm with Amanda's. "We might as well. I fear that we will not find any of Lady Radcliff's novels in the library of our town home."

They entered the shop and both sighed in contentment. They took a deep breath of the leather bound air and spilt up to see what could be discovered to tickle their fancy. Her aunt chose the poetry section while Amanda went toward the back of the store where an attendant told her the novels were located.

She noticed a gentleman searching through the books on an upper shelf. He glanced at her and nodded politely. She returned his nod with a pleasant smile before squeezing past. Her attention was captured by the number of different novels avaiable. After running her fingers along a shelf, she picked up one and flipped through the pages. She stopped at the last chapter and began to read.

The gentleman she had passed watched her curiously. He frowned when he noticed her quickly reading the end of the story before choosing another to only do the same. When she started to repeat the process with a third book, he could remain silent no longer.

"See here, miss. You are ruining each story you pick up!" His deep voice was gruff with irritation. "Why are you only reading the final chapters?"

Amanda narrowed her eyes at his nerve and tone of voice. "For a very simple reason, sir. I prefer certain types of endings in stories. The only way to ensure such is to read the last chapter of books that have been recommended to me."

"Can you not simply read what is recommended without spoiling it for yourself?" He persisted. "Dash it all! People spend months to years creating such for someone to enjoy. They do not do so to be judged solely by the final chapter!"

Amanda bristled at his losing his temper with her. "Did you write this?"

He glanced at the title of the book she thrust at him and his frown grew fierce. "I did not."

Her chin lifted in defiance. "Then you, sir, have no right to be offended." She presented her back to him and set the book she was holding back in its proper place. She could feel those dark eyes of his on her and finally turned around in a huff.

Their wills clashed silently, each glaring darkly at the other. If he had not angered her, she would have thought him handsome. He was tall (a blessing in itself) with dark brown eyes and hair. The indentations in his cheeks hinted at dimples being present if he were ever caught smiling. His clothing was finely made and molded over a figure not given to the idol laziness that plagued many gentlemen in society. What a pity he should be possessed with such a sour disposition.

She began to feel guilty for her loss of temper. The good manners and kindness instilled by her upbringing forced her to utter an unwilling apology. "Forgive me. I should not have been rude to you. I'm afraid my patience was sorely tested earlier at the dressmaker’s." 

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. His own chagrin flickered in the dark depths of his eyes and the easing of his lips. "I believe I am the one at fault here. I should not have chastised you over such an action."

Amanda smiled warmly at him, knowing that he was not one to apologize easily if his strangled words were any indication.

He found his own lips turn up some at her friendliness and held his hand out. "My apology would be more heartfelt if I had the name of the lady I am giving it to."

She placed her hand in his. "Lady Amanda Bridgerton."

He bowed over her hand. "Lady Bridgerton. A pleasure." He released her hand when a servant approached.

"M'lord, you asked to be reminded of the time."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Walters." He turned back to Amanda and started to take his leave. He paused and reached over her shoulder. She softly gasped at nearly being pinned between his chest and the bookcase He glanced down when he heard her indrawn breath and placed a book in her hands. "Do not read the final chapter until you finish the ones before it." His lips finally curved into a smile. "Perhaps one day we will meet again and you can tell me what you think of it."

She looked down at the title, Persuasion. She let out a laugh. "Well played, sir. You chose a title that not only reveals your intentions toward my reading habits but also one that leaves a mystery to its plot."

He took her hand and brushed a kiss to her knuckles. "Promise me you will read it properly."

She shook her head in admonishment while her glowing smile ruined the effect. "Very well, though it would be nice to know to whom I am giving my word."

"Thomas Hunt, Viscount Kirkwood." He bowed and began to leave. He looked over his shoulder and spoke once more. "I look forward to hearing your opinions, my lady." Once he was gone, she hugged the book to her chest and searched for her aunt.

"Aunt Lucy! Did you see the gentleman who left a few moments ago?"

"I did indeed. Well done, my dear! I have heard of Lord Hunt. He is not one to remain in conversation with ladies longer than manners demand." Lucinda took the book from her niece. "You will have to read this now. He will be at many of the functions you will attend." She took her selection and Amanda's to the clerk and paid for them.

Amanda felt a warm fluttering in her stomach at the thought of speaking to him again. Once they were returned to their home in Mayfair and had eaten dinner, she escaped upstairs and quickly changed into her nightgown. She climbed into bed and began to read about Ms. Anne Elliot and her rather unfortunate romance with Captian Wentworth.

A few nights later, she and her aunt walked into Almack's. It was a warm evening and Amanda sighed at having to gain permission from the grande dames to waltz at the balls that were to begin next week. So many ladies, a few years younger than herself, were standing with painfully young men that had most likely been bullied into dancing attendance on their sister's friends.

Lady Jersey, one of the patronesses of Almack's, was in conservation with Lucinda and was looking over at Amanda in a critical fashion. She nodded in respect to the older woman and received a nod of approval. She only needed one to give their permission. Amanda wondered how she was to do so if no man approached her.

While lost in thought, murmurings reached a fevered pitch in the room behind her.

"Can you believe he came?"

"He never attends opening night at Almack's! My cousin Matthew swears the man avoids these type of functions and matchmaking mothers."

"He is so handsome. Mamma is going to have Howard invite him to our home for dinner one evening."

Amanda ignored the dramatic whispers of what had to be about another shy young man and moved closer to the open doors leading to the outside courtyard. She longed for a breeze to blow through the stifling room. She closed her eyes in pleasure when a cool wiff of air touched her overly warm skin.

"Falling asleep? I can't say I blame you. Finding buried treasure under the floorboards is more likely than finding a person to converse intelligently amongst this crowd."

Her eyes snapped open at the deep voice near her ear. Her lips parted in surprise. "Lord Hunt!"

He gave a quick nod. "Lady Bridgerton, we meet again." He noticed some ladies coming to join their conversation. "Good heavens, they are like a plague of locusts." He took her hand and placed it in the bend of his arm. "Introduce me to your aunt." He quickly walked off with her and stopped before her Lucinda and Lady Jersey.

"Thomas!" Lady Jersey gasped. "You're here?"

He lifted an eyebrow before looking down at himself. "So it seems." He took Lucinda's hand and bowed. "Lady Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Once she was over her surprise, she smiled at him. "And you, m'lord. My niece has spoken highly of you after your book recommendation."

His lips curved. "Lady Amanda is too kind." He turned his gaze back to her after studying Amanda for a heated moment. "May I have your permission to dance with her?" His mocking smile landed on the patroness. "And yours of course Lady Jersey?"

Once permission was given in a stuttered manner, Thomas led her in a waltz. He smiled softly as he looked down at her. "What do you think of the novel so far?"

"Anne and Fredrick's relationship is quite heartbreaking. To be parted so cruelly only to meet again with such coldness..." She shook her head when words failed her. "I find myself in amazement that she refused Charles once Fredrick left."

His brow furrowed. "You think she should have married Charles though she loved another?" Perhaps Amanda was not the type of lady he thought she was.

"Not at all! Just that, I am in amazement she was not tempted to do so to escape her ridiculous father and sister. The Musgroves are by far superior to the Elliots." Her smile grew when he laughed.

"I admit that I myself would be tempted to do so now that you reminded me what Anne has had to endure remaining with those two." As they continued to converse, he realized he was chuckling more than he ever had while dancing. She easily held his attention like she had at the bookshop. Once the dance ended, he led her back to her aunt.

He placed his hand over Amanda's as he offered to escort them both to the opera on Thursday evening. "My box has an unparrelled view of the stage."

Lucinda glanced at Amanda's surprised smile and nodded her consent. "Thank you, Lord Hunt. We look forward to it."

Thomas took his leave when he noticed the more determined mothers approaching with their simpering daughters. He kissed Amanda's gloved hand and reminded her to not read the ending to Persuasion yet.

The next day, she curled up with the book and had just come to the part where Anne overheard Captain Wentworth share that she had changed so much he would not have known her when the butler came in with a calling card. She saw the name and frowned. Who was the Earl of Comery? "Do show him in Hudson. And please inform Lady Lucinda of our visitor."

A short, stocky young man walked in with a bouquet of flowers. "Lady Bridgerton?"

Amanda stood up and noticed that she was a couple of inches taller than him. He bowed over her hand and flourished the bouquet before her. "It is a pleasure to meet the heiress of Snowfield Abbey."

Her smile of welcome dimmed. "Thank you, my lord." She motioned for him to sit down and set the flowers in a vase. He began to extoll the beauty of Snowfield and it's many fruitful acres of land. Amanda listened with half her attention. Of the two of them, she believed she knew her own home better. During a pause, she asked him about his estate.

"I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with Comery. Is it South of here?"

He nodded, pleased at her interest. "Southeast actually. It is in Kent."

Lucinda walked into the drawing room with a small package. She greeted the Earl then turned to Amanda. "Dearest, this was just delivered."

Amanda took it and noticed there was no return address or name of who sent it. She opened the box and lifted a beautiful seashell out. "How lovely!" She exclaimed. She took the scrap of paper with it and read the elegant script. Perhaps Capt. Wentworth found a seashell such as this during his travels and gifted it to a certain lady.

Lucinda peeked over her shoulder and smiled at the hinted sentiment. "Do we know who sent it?" She asked for Lord Comery's benefit.

"It is unsigned." Amanda said softly. She set it back in the box and turned her attention back to the earl. After a dull tea with him, he finally left once her aunt urged him to leave before the rain began to fall.

"Lady Bridgerton, there is not a cloud in the sky." He argued with a smile.

"That does not mean it is impossible. The pain in my ankle signals that a deluge will occur within the hour. I insist you leave and get to your next destination quickly." He was no match for her arguments and subtle nudges out the door. He left with a spoken desire to see them soon.

Lucinda was not about to promise such. "I am certain our paths will cross during the social season." Once Hudson shut the door, she hmphed. "Thank heavens you will not be reduced to marrying a man like that."

Amanda chuckled. "Aunt Lucy, I am afraid you are the only one to believe I will end up having a number of suitors. We both know I need to marry a man with a fortune if we are to keep Snowfield and our tenants in the lifestyle they are accustomed to."

"Yes, but there is bound to be a man out there that can be not only well heeled but also of a more pleasing temperament."

"I know Lord Comery lacked stimulating conversation, yet he seemed to be a pleasant sort of man." Amanda argued half heartedly.

Lucy snorted. "He complimented your inheritance more so than you." Her green eyes flashed with angry determination. "I would rather we be forced into a small cottage somewhere than to see you married to such a man."

Amanda rose from her chair and hugged her. "You are a darling and I love you, but I am going to do my best to make certain you and Snowfield are taken care of."

Lucy gently patted her cheek. "You are a stubborn creature." She stood and smoothed the wrinkles in her dress. "Come. Let us go for a walk and see who we meet along the way."

"Walk? Outside? Were you not predicting a deluge approaching?" She teased.

Lucy suppressed her mirth for a moment before bursting into laughter. "I need to remember which ankle is the more intelligent of the two for future escapes."

"I would go with the right one." Amanda suggested between giggles. "That way you can stress how correct it is."

"Minx." Lucy chided.

[chierafied]

Evening at Almack’s

I’ve been on a regency romance kick lately and my hand slipped.

For the ton – the very top of British society – it was just another Wednesday dinner and ball at the Almack’s. Furthermore, since it was almost June and the London season was nearing its end, the famed Assembly Rooms weren’t quite as busy as they probably had been earlier in the year.

Miss Lily Evans did not care about any of those things, because for her, the evening was full of excitement.

She had struck a friendship with Lady McKinnon back in April and thanks to the Countess’ efforts and the kind judgement of the Patronesses of Almack’s, Lily had been allowed to attend tonight as the Countess’ guest.

Lily had been looking forward to tonight so much she’d even written to Severus about it. They had been fast friends as children, but growing up the distinction between their classes had become apparent and in recent years their paths had mostly separated.

The last time they had met, they had actually got into quite a row. Lily had made up her mind then to limit their acquaintance, but in her enthusiasm about going to Almack’s she’d reached out to him.

He’d promised her a dance.

Lily smoothed down her gown, then picked up her fan. It was difficult to simply stand still when it felt like her every nerve was vibrating.

Fanning herself, Lily let her gaze sweep across the ballroom. She’d carefully schooled her face to show polite interest. Excited as she was, she’d be mortified if she did something as garish as gawk.

Even if that was the Duke of Wellington just there to her left.

The first dance began and Lily stayed in her spot, watching the elegant elite move through the steps of the Scottish reel. The second dance went by, then the third, without any sign of Severus.

Lady McKinnon had, of course, kept her good company and made some introductions – even to such a distinguished gentleman as the heir to the Duke of Peverell.

For the fourth dance, however, Lily had been left alone as Lord Peverell had been dragged off by his friends and Lady McKinnon had been swept to the dance floor by her husband.

Although it was enjoyable to simply observe the ton in their natural habitat, a dance had been promised to Lily and she did not succumb quietly into the role of a wallflower. Thus, she set out to find Severus in the crowd.

To her chagrin, she found him on the other side of the ballroom, in the company of Lords Malfoy and Rosier, neither of whom Lily much cared for.

She hesitated there for a moment, the unexpected presence of the two high lords serving as a deterrent for approaching Severus as she’d intended.

And hovering as she was, still undecided, she came to overhear the three gentlemen’s conversation.

“Look at that,” Lord Malfoy said to his companions, his lips curling in distaste. “I fear our patronesses of Almack’s are growing very lax these days. That recent scandal was enough to have Black’s own family disown him, yet they haven’t revoked his voucher?”

Rosier shrugged. “Certainly Black will not inherit the title of his father the Duke, but I hear that dotty uncle of his, Earl Milford, has taken the disgraced sod under his wing. And the patronesses of Almack's are only women; I suspect they are soft at heart and may even find all that duelling heroic.”

“No, I’m of the opinion that Almack’s standards are lowered. I have heard that a certain young woman of my acquaintance is in attendance tonight,” Severus said.

Lily stood a little straighter, even as a shiver ran down her spine. She took an unconscious step closer to the three men.

“A young woman of your acquaintance?” Rosier repeated, voicing his interest. “Do tell, Snape.”

“She is no one who would interest you, Lord Rosier,” Severus said. “A clergyman’s daughter.”

Something hard and heavy lodged itself in Lily’s throat.

“A clergyman’s daughter?” Malfoy sneered. “What is someone of such low standing doing here, among the ton? And pray tell, Snape, how you ever came to be acquainted with a clergyman’s daughter?”

There was a low hum now in Lily’s ears – but it was not loud enough to mask Severus’ reply.

“She used to visit us with her mother – her mother had been a governess for my mother. I believe she’s here today on Countess McKinnon’s invitation. How else would someone of such low standing come to be at Almack’s?”

After that cutting remark, Severus glanced away.

His gaze met Lily’s and his eyes widened, his face grew a shade paler.

Lily stared right back at him, letting the anger seething inside of her show.

“Well, the McKinnons are famed for their charity,” Malfoy said dismissively.

Lily had heard enough. She could feel the tears starting to burn in the corners of her eyes, born equal part of rage as they were of humiliation. Holding her head high, she sent one last glare into Severus’ direction before sweeping past the three loathsome lords as regally as she could.

Of course, that was not the end of it.

Lily had returned to her earlier spot by the wall and waved away the friendly concern of Lady McKinnon, who had sensed the change in Lily’s mood. Lily had reassured her that she was fine and urged her to go enjoy another dance with the Earl.

She had enjoyed her solitude for all of four minutes before Snape made his appearance.

“Miss Evans,” he spoke in low tones, hovering by her elbow.

Lily looked away and did her best to ignore him, but Snape wasn’t deterred.

“You must forgive me for what I said earlier. You know I couldn’t speak truly in the company of the Duke and the Marquess.”

Lily’s attention snapped to Snape, her voice as cold as ice when she replied. “Must I indeed? Because I do believe you did speak the truth. Tell me, are you apologising for what you said, or that I happened to overhear those words?”

His silence was more telling than any answer he may have voiced.

Furious, Lily turned and began to walk away.

She didn’t get very far before she was halted by Snape’s hand grasping her elbow.

“Lily, please, I –”

She was not going to listen to another word from him.

“Unhand me. Now.”

He did not.

“You must allow me to apologise. I was crass and I truly am sorry –”

Snape’s desperate pleas were interrupted again, but this time by a pleasantly deep voice.

“Pardon me for the interruption,” Lord Peverell cut in smoothly, “but I was wondering if you would do the honour of accompanying me in the next dance, Miss Evans.”

Snape had the audacity to bristle at that. “Run along, Potter,” he spat. “Miss Evans has already promised to dance with me.”

Lily’s eyes flashed. “That is true, I did promise. And while I do hate to break my word, that promise was made before the insults you have delivered tonight.”

She looked up into Lord Peverell’s hazel eyes. “My lord, it would be my pleasure to dance with you next.”

Before Snape had any chance to offer further protests, Lily yanked her elbow out of his grip and placed her hand on Lord Peverell’s arm.

He smiled at her and boldly covered her hand with his own before he led her away.

[societehq]

two wanted connections have been added to the main!

[MARK STANLEY] HENRY CAVENDISH is searching for their BENEFICIARY, they should look like SEBASTIAN DE SOUZA, LUKE THOMPSON, GREG CHILLIN, LUKE PASQUALINO, JOE ALWYN, LORENZO RICHELMY, LUKE YOUNGBLOOD, SANTIAGO CABRERA, DEV PATEL OR UTP and be UTP. You DO NOT need to contact them before applying. contact details: @devcnshire. + Henry has always been a lover of art and even dabbles in painting himself, in more recent years this love has manifested into patronage and he has begun supporting an artist. This would include commissioning pieces from them as well as introducing them to others who might buy their work. Their relationship could be more of a working one or perhaps the two of them have developed a friendship, either way Henry’s support is constant and he wishes to see them succeed. 

[EBONÉE NOEL] MARIANNE SEYMOUR is searching for their FELLOW PATRONESSES, they should look like LUCY LIU, GUGU MBATHA-RAW, CAITRIONA BALFE, GEMMA CHAN, ROSAMUND PIKE, JOANNE WHALLEY, MICHELLE YEOH or UTP and be UTP. You DO NOT need to contact them before applying. contact details: @marchioncss. + Marianne will be enjoying her first season as one of the patronesses of the Almack’s Assembly Rooms - the place to be in the season. These women are responsible for not only organising balls but managing the guest list too. They could fill a variety of roll in Marianne’s life, from mentor to friend or even just acquaintance.

[ao3feed-doctorwho]

An Assembly Such As This

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bKiePl

by timetravelbypen

Yaz and the Doctor go to a dance at Almack's Assembly Rooms in 1813, and Yaz convinces the Doctor to go all in on the historical costuming for a change.

Words: 2681, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan

Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan

Additional Tags: Historical, Regency, the Doctor changes outfits to be historically accurate, Yaz: Disaster Gay, the Doctor: tired and sad and licks rocks, No Spoilers, oh no she's hot, Soft!!!, thasmin

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bKiePl

[victoriabondblog]

London Townhouse, the Mews

London Mews, June 2017

As any proper Regency lady or gentleman would tell you, the quintessential London home of the upper classes was the townhouse. Each home, attached at both sides to its neighbors, were as unique as its owners. Built in central London, these exclusive dwellings provided easy access to many beautiful city parks, as well as being within walking distance of shopping and all the iconic Regency areas such as Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Gunther’s Tea House, and the famous Almack’s assembly rooms.

As London grew and townhouses sprang up to house the rich and beautiful, the need for stables also grew because the only way to get around in London was by foot or by horse (either horseback or carriage). The plentiful cabs were good enough for the working class, but the elite preferred using their private conveyance. The rich who could afford horses needed a place to keep their animals, tack, carriages, as well as drivers, grooms, and stable workers. But space was limited.  

Mews houses with garage doors where once horses and carriages dwelled

The solution was simple; build stables behind each townhouse with a road that leads to it. In London, these stables were known as mews. The mews were (and still are) tucked behind grand mansion-style townhouses in London’s most exclusive neighborhoods.

Mews cobbled lane

A mews had many advantages. It kept the horses and staff nearby when the lord or lady of the house needed them, although it took considerable time to hitch the team to the carriage. Having the mews around back kept the sounds and smells of the animals away from the house’s residents and guests. The cobbled lane kept the area clean and provided good drainage of waste. 

Opposite the mews and cobbled lane is another row of stables behind another row of townhouses facing the next street. Often one end of this is yet another mews, or sometimes a pub, so it makes a sort of courtyard. Reportedly, many London mews had a tunnel under the garden connecting with the ground floor or basement of the house. This would have provided an easy way for servants to access the stable without disturbing their employers.

Entrance to a London mews

From what I have been able to determine, the term mews mews means both the London stables and the lane that leads to them. This cobbled back street, a narrow lane not much bigger than a bike lane, leads to the stables. Most of these lanes are named after the street nearby with the word mews tacked on. For example, Colville Road has the nearby Colville Mews. 

The only stables that are called mews are those in London attached to the back of a London townhouse. Anywhere else, and associated with any other type of dwelling, the term stables is used. 

Anciently, the mews is where the royals housed their falcons. Falcons, like most birds, moult or mew (from the French verb ‘muer’), which became the name of the place where they lived and therefore did this moulting or mewing. The word mews, oddly, is singular. Anyway, later they moved the falcons out and moved in the horses. The name mews stuck, despite the change in resident animals.

Horse names are still found on some doors that lead to today’s mews houses

Horses lived on the ground floor of the mews. Many of the doors had the names of the horses who lived there. Some still do. A larger area provided room for the carriages and tack. The first floor (up one level) provided rustic accommodations for the driver and ostlers (groom or stablemen a.k.a. stable lads). Above this floor, many London homes had other floors where their house servants’ quarters were located. Some London townhouses also had gardens, but since I didn’t see any set up this way, I’m not certain exactly how they were laid out.

Lovely London mews homes

Today, most mews houses are beautifully restored homes which open onto a safe, quiet, cobbled lane with virtually no traffic. It has become a coveted, and therefore expensive, place to live partly because they have what are now garages, which are difficult to come by in London. And mews houses and neighborhoods really are so lovely now that one can hardly believe their humble beginnings. I found a lot more photos on this blog called A Lady in London showing today’s exclusive London mews home and a few other photos here on Mother Lindas blog. 

Sources:

Most of my sources are my years of study, as well as what I observed and learned during my trip to London. However, I also refereed to this sources: http://www.lurotbrand.co.uk/mews-gems/what-is-a-mews

      Related Posts:

London Townhouses, the Servants’ Entrance

The London Season

COACHES, CARRIAGES, AND OTHER CONVEYANCES:

London Bridge is Falling Down, but not anymore

Riding Sidesaddle in Regency England

London Townhouse, the Mews published first on http://donnahatch.blogspot.com/

[carolwbond]

London Townhouse, the Mews

London Mews, June 2017

As any proper Regency lady or gentleman would tell you, the quintessential London home of the upper classes was the townhouse. Each home, attached at both sides to its neighbors, were as unique as its owners. Built in central London, these exclusive dwellings provided easy access to many beautiful city parks, as well as being within walking distance of shopping and all the iconic Regency areas such as Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Gunther’s Tea House, and the famous Almack’s assembly rooms.

As London grew and townhouses sprang up to house the rich and beautiful, the need for stables also grew because the only way to get around in London was by foot or by horse (either horseback or carriage). The plentiful cabs were good enough for the working class, but the elite preferred using their private conveyance. The rich who could afford horses needed a place to keep their animals, tack, carriages, as well as drivers, grooms, and stable workers. But space was limited.  

Mews houses with garage doors where once horses and carriages dwelled

The solution was simple; build stables behind each townhouse with a road that leads to it. In London, these stables were known as mews. The mews were (and still are) tucked behind grand mansion-style townhouses in London’s most exclusive neighborhoods.

Mews cobbled lane

A mews had many advantages. It kept the horses and staff nearby when the lord or lady of the house needed them, although it took considerable time to hitch the team to the carriage. Having the mews around back kept the sounds and smells of the animals away from the house’s residents and guests. The cobbled lane kept the area clean and provided good drainage of waste. 

Opposite the mews and cobbled lane is another row of stables behind another row of townhouses facing the next street. Often one end of this is yet another mews, or sometimes a pub, so it makes a sort of courtyard. Reportedly, many London mews had a tunnel under the garden connecting with the ground floor or basement of the house. This would have provided an easy way for servants to access the stable without disturbing their employers.

Entrance to a London mews

From what I have been able to determine, the term mews mews means both the London stables and the lane that leads to them. This cobbled back street, a narrow lane not much bigger than a bike lane, leads to the stables. Most of these lanes are named after the street nearby with the word mews tacked on. For example, Colville Road has the nearby Colville Mews. 

The only stables that are called mews are those in London attached to the back of a London townhouse. Anywhere else, and associated with any other type of dwelling, the term stables is used. 

Anciently, the mews is where the royals housed their falcons. Falcons, like most birds, moult or mew (from the French verb ‘muer’), which became the name of the place where they lived and therefore did this moulting or mewing. The word mews, oddly, is singular. Anyway, later they moved the falcons out and moved in the horses. The name mews stuck, despite the change in resident animals.

Horse names are still found on some doors that lead to today’s mews houses

Horses lived on the ground floor of the mews. Many of the doors had the names of the horses who lived there. Some still do. A larger area provided room for the carriages and tack. The first floor (up one level) provided rustic accommodations for the driver and ostlers (groom or stablemen a.k.a. stable lads). Above this floor, many London homes had other floors where their house servants’ quarters were located. Some London townhouses also had gardens, but since I didn’t see any set up this way, I’m not certain exactly how they were laid out.

Lovely London mews homes

Today, most mews houses are beautifully restored homes which open onto a safe, quiet, cobbled lane with virtually no traffic. It has become a coveted, and therefore expensive, place to live partly because they have what are now garages, which are difficult to come by in London. And mews houses and neighborhoods really are so lovely now that one can hardly believe their humble beginnings. I found a lot more photos on this blog called A Lady in London showing today’s exclusive London mews home and a few other photos here on Mother Lindas blog. 

Sources:

Most of my sources are my years of study, as well as what I observed and learned during my trip to London. However, I also refereed to this sources: http://www.lurotbrand.co.uk/mews-gems/what-is-a-mews

      Related Posts:

London Townhouses, the Servants’ Entrance

The London Season

COACHES, CARRIAGES, AND OTHER CONVEYANCES:

London Bridge is Falling Down, but not anymore

Riding Sidesaddle in Regency England

London Townhouse, the Mews published first on http://donnahatchnovels.tumblr.com