“Is what generates income and enables him to live here, yes, yes. But worse, he even asked about what was remaining of Mother’s portion,” said Ollie, with the air of a man who had been sitting on a secret for too long with no one to talk about it to.
Archie stared for a moment. “He isn’t going to maintainMother?!”
That seemed insanity. She was their mother, for gods’ sake! Just because the title of Duke would pass to Charlie didn’t mean that she would no longer have a place in their house. Archie could almost forgive Charlie for not wanting to keephim, but their mother? The thought was unforgivable.
“So as you can imagine, Father is making sure everything is clear and settled in case anything happens to him,” said Ollie dryly.
Archie sipped the remains of his beer, now slightly warm in the stuffy taphouse. He lifted his glass and indicated it with a nod. “Was this a set-up from Father?”
“You mean if he left early so we could discuss it by ourselves? I assume so, though he didn’t request it of me. I don’t want Estelle to worry, since she’ll be the most secured once she’s married, but I’ll give her a short version tomorrow if I catch her.”
“He’s gone too far,” murmured Archie, still shaking his head not only at Charlie’s audacity, but the stupidity involved in doing all of this in front of men who had worked for Father for decades.
“Another?” asked Ollie, hoisting his empty glass. Archie gestured at his own, still half-full. “Then I shall be back anon. It’s been too long since I’ve been out somewhere no one knew who I was.”
As he slid up to the bar for a new pint, Archie’s eye was suddenly caught by the taproom door opening. Damaris. Or more specifically, Damian, Earl of Lymond. He was dressed differently, in a common man’s white shirt, brown waistcoat and coarse trousers, though his clean face and pristinely set curls would tell anyone looking closely enough that he wasn’t a laborer.
What are you doing here?asked Archie, but there was no reply. Damian made eye contact with him across the room, and winked. He looked good. Handsome, yes, but more importantly, convincingly solid. There was no strange haze at the end of his fingertips, and he moved when people bumped into his shoulder walking past in the narrow space.
Archie tried to glance and indicate at Ollie with his eyes, sinking back into his seat as Damian ignored him and sauntered up to the bar next to his brother. The taproom was the usual kind of organized chaos, where the barkeep kept a mental list on who arrived at his bar first and handled them deftly in order. Which meant Ollie got his pint first, nodded at Damian as he squeezed past, then frowned as soon as he got back to their table.
“We should leave.”
“What? You only just got a drink,” said Archie.
“That man who just came in.” Ollie ducked his head in close, which was the only reason he missed the look of alarm on Archie’s face, and lowered his voice. “He’s dangerous.”
“What!” said Archie, and didn’t even have to feign his astonishment. “How do you know that? Who is he?”
“I’ll explain later,” murmured Ollie, voice barely audible. “Let’s get out of here.”
Which was exactly when Damian walked up to them. Archie frantically looked between the two of them, not sure who he was meant to be warning about whom. Ollie jerked, hard enough his new pint of beer sloshed across the table.
“Evening, Russex,” said Damian cheerfully. His accent, Archie noted, had become more like Prince Ixthan’s, instead of the low burr that he sounded like in Archie’s head. “Fancy seeing you in a place like this.”
“Your Grace,” said Archie, dipping his head. “Have you met my brother, Oliver? Ollie, this is Damian. Earl of Lymond.” He stressed the title to Ollie, who was bristling like a tomcat.
“Pleasure to meet you. Archie has mentioned you before, I gather you usually spend your time up north?” said Damian as pleasant and proper as could be, holding his hand out to shake.
Ollie dipped his fingers in barely enough to be considered hand contact and nodded stiffly, which was so uncharacteristic of him that Archie half-expected Damian to take offense. Any real nobleman would have.
“Yes, just coming down to take care of business.” Ollie did not offer anything else, nor give any indication he wanted to continue the conversation. “Archie, we should head back to regroup with Father. Your Grace, if you’ll excuse us.”
Ollie near-manhandled Archie out of the door, leaving behind his full drink. Archie knew enough not to make a scene, so merely snagged his coat from the back of the chair and stumbled out into the night. The chill hit them all at once, a full slap of wind in the face and Archie shivered as he hastily pulled his coat on.
“Ollie, what was that!” Archie demanded, glancing through the window back at Damian.
“You know that man?” Ollie hustled the both of them down the street, darting looks behind him as if Damian might be following them.
“The Earl of Lymond? Yes, I met him at a party recently,” said Archie, careful with what information to give away so soon. “He seemed very pleasant. What’s wrong?”
“He’s possessed,” said Ollie, his voice low. “I felt the demonic energy as soon as he entered the room.”
Archie stared. Of all the things he thought Ollie would say, that wasn’t it. There was some small age gap between them so they hadn’t been close as children, but he’d had no idea that Ollie had ever shown any aptitude for magic or demons. Luckily, his gawking expression must have passed for astonishment because Ollie didn’t pick up anything strange about his reaction. “Possessed? How can you possibly tell?”
“You remember the time when I once thought I was headed for the temples?” asked Ollie.
“You backed out of the initiation ceremony after meeting Marianne,” said Archie. He had memories of Ollie attending the Allegreian temple every day for years. Ollie had even brought him and Estelle along when he could convince them, that period when they were between governesses and had no tutoring. It wasn’t uncommon for younger sons of nobility to decide to dedicate their lives to one of the temples if there was no formal place in the household for them, and Ollie had been getting ready to dedicate his life to the Allegreian Order the moment he reached manhood. That was, right up until the moment he had met his now-wife and rescinded all of it.
