London, 1852
The man sitting opposite William put the heavy tumbler on the table.
The expensive piece of furniture was conveniently placed next to the richly decorated sofa his companion was almost lying in.
He was dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit which most likely cost William's pay for the entire year.
Double, even.
Judging by his speech, he was someone from the upper classes, yet the nobleman’s behavior didn't match his noble origin in the least.
He'd untied his black cravat, spoke of books idly, and didn't seem to be interested in the game they were playing at all.
The man hadn't introduced himself when they'd met earlier and he hadn't been accompanied by a servant or another nobleman.
William was sure the place they were at wasn't even the man's main house.
This was more like an apartment where the nobleman invited his private guests; it was likely he didn't keep a regular household, as they were just the two of them and he hadn't seen a maid around.
William knew some men from the upper classes had the habit of privately renting a place, where they could invite whomever they pleased, far and free from the class norms their noble origin required them to comply with.
"Cigarette? " The nobleman offered and took one out from an intricately crafted box.
William saw letters he couldn't recognize written on it and assumed it had probably been imported from God knew where.
"Uhh no, thank you." He looked back at the cards he was holding and tried to find a way to feign indifference to what he was seeing.
And that was he had zero winning cards. William had no idea how that was possible.
"More whisky, then?"
A slow smile spread on the nobleman's handsome face.
This person was enough of a distraction as it was, he didn't need to try and talk to William right now.
His bright red hair made his cold blue eyes even more outstanding and attractive. And intimidating at the same time.
William was painfully aware he was being observed and that alone was enough to make him feel nervous.
"No, no. Thank you." He stuttered.
"Ah, I see there isn't much you want, then. Besides winning the money on the table, that is."
The gentleman gestured at the four cards on the table with the pile of money and a few jewels next to it. He leaned forward then and said lazily
"I know you don't have anything besides those two sevens and from what I've counted so far, those are your strongest ones." He took a sip from his glass and folded his own cards.
"How...?" William's hands began visibly shaking.
"You seem tense. This is only a game, after all?" the question hung in the air and the man leaned back again.
"I... this was my last money. If I lose them..."
The blue eyes lingered on William's face, then the man said
"Then, perhaps, we could settle the...this inconvenience in a different way. Because you very well know you can't just run away."
He had the upper hand and he knew it. More - he seemed to be taking pleasure in it.
"I... what other way?"
The red-haired nobleman smiled, this time it was almost viciously.
August 1852He hated all of this. Absolutely any part of it in its entirety.He mostly dreaded the fact he had to sit through another of his mother's richly organized dinners now.At the same time, Callum was glad he wasn't the one expected to stay until its very end. He didn't even want to imagine how terrible that would be.He glanced at Liam- his older brother- who was talking to a sweet, petite blonde girl; her purple dress was covered in frills and ribbons as per the latest fashion.Callum's gaze lingered over the lace of her corset for a few moments longer than appropriate before his eyes moved up to the ivory clock on the wall.The time was showing 9:14.Good.Callum reminded himself not to check the time so obviously often and looked away, searching for a place to put his eyes on.The young lady sitting opposite him was still smiling politely, although Callum knew
Oliver was standing in the middle of the small, shabby room in East London.This had been his home for the past few months and he had to admit he might actually miss the place.It was the attic of an old house, governed by Lady Eleanore. The owner had initially refused to accept bachelors, such as he was at an age, perfect for a young man to start thinking of getting into a more serious contract with a lady.But when he'd offered a handsome sum of money, Lady Eleanore had agreed to have him.The morning sun rays made the dust dance in the small room, but Oliver knew rain was coming. The weather changed so fast in London at that time of the year.He didn't have much, except for a few books and a few pairs of suits which he gathered in an old leather suitcase.Oliver wasn't sure if he'd need any of them, though, as he was going to have a uniform for his new job.He was going to be a valet in one of the richest families
He was instructed to use the servants' entrance, which was to the side. An old man in an impeccable black suit with the traditional white shirt and a white bow tie greeted him.He was most likely the manager of the Household Servants."Pleased to meet you, Sir. I'm Oliver Abram- Lord Tennyson's new valet." He outstretched his hand, but the man didn't return the greeting.Oliver took his hand back and the other man seized him up and down."You must have a very good recommendation to be hired for work in the household, especially dressed like that. "Oliver knew that even though he was wearing his best clothes, they were of much lower quality than the ones even the cleaning staff wore.The butler didn't wait for Oliver's response and said"This way, and try not to ask too many questions. Lord Tennyson hates them
Callum had the worst hangover he'd had in a while.And that said a lot, considering he had a pretty solid experience with port and whisky.He looked around the dark room and saw his clothes from last night all over the floor.Callum had no memory of how he'd gotten back to the mansion, but at least he was in his nightgown.He got dressed. By himself. He'd had a valet only once years ago and never allowed a servant to help him get dressed from then on.Callum was just finishing the tying of his black cravat.It was in very strong contrast with his white shirt, but when he added the black coat he decided it wasn't shockingly bad or dark enough.There was a knock on the door as he was trying to put his hair in order. It had overgrown a bit and he knew how inappropriate that was, so decided to just leave it the way it was."Yes?" he called. It was Thomas.
The next day something similar happened and Oliver was beginning to worry he might never actually do any work. He was occasionally helping the maids or the men in the yard, but that was pretty much all he did.He was given the black uniform of the valet, but he found himself rarely wearing it while he was outside with the man-servants.Something that got him the constant disapproving eyes of the butler.That, Oliver was really trying not to poke Thomas's eyes with his constant idleness and obvious not involvement in the way Callum's clothing or appearance were tended.He just didn't see the Lord anywhere.The maids were saying he was often gone for more than even one night, so Oliver could only guess where he went. After all, the old Lord had warned him about his master himself.On the third day, Oliver got up, looked for the Lord, but he was informed that Callum had already gone out, so he headed for Tennyson's study.
“How has the manor been treating you, Mr. Abram?”Tennyson said. He was keeping himself quite level, although it seemed like it was forced and something wasn’t quite right. It most likely wasn’t, since Oliver had been called here, and he was definitely one of the numerous things the Minister had to deal with. And of course, Oliver’s never failing sixth sense was a good way to judge the situation.“I am getting used to everything. Thank you. ““Do you have everything you need?”“I do, yes. As I’ve mentioned, everyone’s been very helpful. ““Indeed, they all are.“Except for you, Oliver almost heard it behind the Lord’s look.Tennyson crossed his arms.“I’ll be direct, because I am quite occupied as it is. I don’t see you doing what you’ve been hired for. “Oliver wanted to protest, or try
He was walking outside in the sunny garden. An orange-yellow cat was lazily sleeping by a nicely cut bush and the furry ball registered his presence by only moving an ear.Oliver searched his pockets for a cigarette, although he wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to light one here.He didn’t see anyone around, so he decided it was safe enough and he could afford it.Oliver was just taking a cigarette out when he heard someone come. And he always heard when someone was coming his way.He turned and saw it was the girl he'd meet the other day- Della. She was carrying something in her hands, coming his way.The girl glanced at the cigarette in his hand and Oliver said"Sorry, I just...""Oh, no, please, don’t mind me. "He put the roll back in his pocket, hoping he won’t crash it and h
"And then the prince stabbed the big monster!" The child exclaimed, full of wonder and Jenny laughed."Percy, you are the monster my nephew's talking about? ""You ain't funny, Jenny. "Percy made a face at her and she pretended she didn’t see it and ignored him. Oliver hadn’t told anyone he’d seen them in the study, but he’d spent the day with Percy and the kid again, so he’d hinted they should probably be more careful. He’d saved the details around the fact he wasn’t the only one who had seen them that day.Obviously, the Lord didn’t care in any way for any of this, but Oliver suspected Thomas wouldn’t be so indifferent if he found out. And if the butler didn’t like something, that meant trouble for all of them.Oliver got up and said "Thank you for the dinner, Adelia. I'll be heading up. "