Although Archie had been distracted by the whole conversation about soup and taste, of all things, he could more or less guess what had happened. The Assembly of the Lords met four times a year to discuss all matters of legislation that had recently been approved by the lesser Assembly of the Judges. Father held two seats in the Assembly of Lords for the two territories he held, the first as Duke of Russex and the second as Viscount of Bandembry, but each person was still only considered one vote. As his heir, Charlie honorarily had use of the Viscount title to also sit in the Assembly and he would have added an additional vote on any matters father wished to support or dismiss. He’d either forgotten about the Assembly or, more likely, couldn’t be bothered to go.
“He’s getting worse,” sighed father, removing his eyeglasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. That wasunlike him; although it was usually obvious to the siblings what their father’s opinion of things were, he generally avoided open disapproval of Charlie. Archie made a noise that could be considered assent.
“I could go in his place,” said Archie eventually. It wasn’t as if he had any plans for this afternoon, after all.
“You?” Father looked up at him for the first time.
“The Viscount of Bandembry seat is officially Charlie’s, but you can swear me in to represent Russex ‘in your absence’.”
“And I represent myself as Bandembry? How devious,” said his father, his brows raised. It was not a solution many could have stomached, to have Archie as the stand-in for the higher ranking seat, but he seemed delighted. Archie dared a tentative smile. “You know, this might improve the state of things for you to get you some exposure in court.”
Archie’s momentary happiness soured instantly. “I am trying, father.”
“Your mother worries. As do I. Charles’ inclinations have shown him to be… short-sighted.” His father paused. There it was again, that reluctance to be open about Charlie’s shortcomings. “But we hope that you will be able to find some niche for yourself, in the way that Oliver has.”
Ollie sounded happy enough in the occasional letters he sent, but to Archie, nothing sounded more soul-destroying than retiring to the countryside to organize farming and villages and whatever else Ollie took such diligent satisfaction in. Still, heunderstood the principle of it, and so he nodded. That seemed to appease his father for now.
“Good. Now, if you are to tag along with me, I must outline the principle discussion points and we haven’t much time.”
Archie had never seen inside the Assembly Hall before. Nestled away next to the throne room, it was long and rectangular, with tiered seating that ran lengthways along the room so that each person would have a full view of the open speaking space in the middle. The Assembly of Lords sat by rank, with seats assigned to dukes in the front row, then marquesses and earls in the second row, and finally viscounts and barons in the third.
Archie’s father took a seat at the back of the room with great relish; as the room filled up, more and more people entered and looked askance to see him there. “I’m Bandembry today, my boy there is Russex,” he said more than once with no little amusement as Archie tried not to look as out of place seated at the front of the room as he felt.
Next to him on either side and opposite were other dukes – his father’s friends and peers. Even without any interest in politics, Archie knew who they all were: here, the Royal Treasurer; there, the General Commander of the army; and so on. Unsurprising, given Archie had grown up around them, knowing them as his friends’ parents or even grandparents. He felt very much like a child allowed at the high table for the first time.
Apart from one man. Settling into a seat in the back row diagonally opposite Archie’s father. The only other person in the room even close to Archie’s age, perhaps a few years older. He had dark brown hair, loosely curled and artfully swept to one side, full lips and a strong chin. His skin was slightly tan, as if he had wintered abroad somewhere more sunny, and his Welcian-cut shortcoat showed off his broad shoulders.
As if he could hear Archie’s thoughts, the stranger turned and caught his eye, just in time to catch Archie staring. Immediately Archie flicked his eyes away, fixing his eyes determinedly on some non-existent detail on the wall. He could feel the heat manifesting in his ears, the red no doubt betraying his embarrassment. If the floor were to open and swallow him whole, he would have let it without a second thought.
His reaction had been reasonable, Archie argued with himself. Archie obviously knew who all of the baron and viscount titles belonged to, and he had never seen this man before. It was a completely normal, reasonable reaction to seeing a new face turn up at the Assembly. A dozen of his father’s peers had commented on his unusual seating arrangement, after all.
The Chair stood, one of his father’s old hunting friends, and Archie tried to look interested in the proceedings. He was, in a way. Not in the actual politics of it, the movements of trade and army and money all went over his head a little, but in the interaction of it all. He watched as esteemed lords harrumphed over sly remarks made by other lords, or the way someone might bring up a point just to further contention. He himself offered no contribution, knowing that he would sound stupid if he tried, but threw in his vote on the hastily prepared points his father had outlined. It would have been easier if his father had sat infront so Archie could simply see whether he had raised his hand or not, so he hoped his memory held.
Through it all, as Archie moved his gaze from noble to noble, he got the distinct sense that the man opposite was looking at him. And yet, every time he flicked his gaze over, he appeared to be paying attention to the discussion. In fact, he was the one who caughtArchiestaring at him. A raise of the eyebrows accompanied a quizzical smile. Or at least, that’s how Archie chose to interpret the bemused look he was given; he averted his gaze again and resolved not to look at the man again.
The Assembly took up most of the afternoon, and even Archie’s good intentions had wilted by the time they were done. However, judging by the way the votes went, his father would be pleased on most of the points that had been approved to be presented to the king.
“It might suit us all if I brought you next time instead of Charles,” said Duke Russex in high spirits as they walked back to their quarters. Archie wasn’t naive; he understood that his father appreciated his willingness to agree more than anything else. When he did bother to turn up, Charlie presumably voted however he liked.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to. I suspect that for Charlie, the notion that I took his rightful place will mean more than not wanting to attend,” said Archie ruefully.
Father gave him a look that betrayed his surprise. “How very astute of you, my boy.”
They were almost to their quarters now. If Archie didn’t bring it up now, he would lose the chance to. “Father, who was the man opposite me? The one near my age.”
“Opposite? Who was sat there, let’s see. Do you mean Earl Lymond?”
Archie had never heard of this earl before, neither the man nor the place. Which was odd. Even if he were not involved in politics, Archie still knew who they all were socially. “Is he new to court?”
“Certainly not, he has sat the Assembly for the last three years. You must have met him, he was at one of your mother’s dos.”
“Remind me of his given name?”
“Damian, I believe.”
“Oh, yes. I think I do remember somewhat,” said Archie, outright lying. He bit the inside of his cheek. No, he had definitely not met Earl Lymond before, he would have remembered a man who looked like… that.
Thick hair, large hands, full lips. Thighs. Deft wrist.
