He wrapped his arms around himself, and he could almost imagine it was like being hugged from behind, until exhaustion overtook him.
Archie didn't remember falling asleep, only that it must have happened at some point, for he woke with an ache in his neck and his arm numb from where he had lain on it. He vaguely remembered half-waking in fits and starts, once when his parents got home, another time when he had tried to roll over and met the back of the couch, and yet a third when some servant had come in the morn and started to see him there. He felt rested not at all.
"Dearest, you look awful. Have you looked at yourself this morning?" asked his mother as he picked at the breakfast a maid had left him on a tray. She was already dressed for visiting. Today was Tuesday, which meant she had her ladies' painting group at Lady Girnham's. She pawed at her bag and withdrew her hand mirror, frowning when Archie flinched at the sight of it. No shadows.
Archie glanced at himself only cursively before handing the mirror back to her, lest the demon, Damaris, whatever his name was, came for him again. No doubt she meant his pale skin and dark eyes. "I had some strange dreams last night."
"That's what happens when you fall asleeping reading fanciful novels," said his mother with a tut, but she still straightened his collar before she left.
When left to his own devices again, Archie finally summoned enough courage to enter his room. There was no sign of anything unusual, demonic or… otherwise. The maids had come in to clean so the bed was freshly made, the blanket he'd thrown over the mirror replaced neatly on the bed. He was almostdisappointed. If there had been some lingering sign, some stain or rumple, at least he could have reassured himself that last night had really happened and he'd done the right thing. He glanced furtively into the mirror and once again, nothing was there.
Archie fetched a new outfit for the day. He didn't dare turn his back on the mirror, but he also didn't want to accidentally look at himself undressed in it, so he changed with speed. It wasn't until he was on his way out that he saw — or, he thought he saw — a flicker of something in the mirror. He fled and forced the door closed behind him before he could look back to check.
Since there was no way Archie was going to spend all day at the palace today, he might as well do something useful. Crothby’s, his usual gentlemen’s club, would be a good distraction from the oddities of the last day. It was also where he was most likely to find Jeremy, so he could wrangle himself that invite to the opera, and if he wasn’t there, he could leave a message for him.
Their carriage was already out, one of the manservants told him, so Archie hailed a public carriage from outside the palace gates instead. The dark wood along with the leather interior made the window dark, but his reflection didn't show anything but himself. The journey was almost half done by the time Archie realized he had spent the whole time alternating between studying at his reflection to see if it moved and studiously avoiding it altogether. He should have walked. The sight of any windows or mirrors were going to set his nerves on edge for a while.
Archie just needed to survive until the club. Being surrounded by other people would keep the demon from trying anything, surely. He was so tense that every bump in the road jarred straight up his spine, and he was distracted to the point where he missed a question that the horse driver asked him.
"Sir? Sir, just to let you know that it's busy down towards the market square today so I'll be going around."
"What? Oh, yes. Yes, that's fine," said Archie in a daze. Perhaps the demon wasn't a succubus at all, perhaps he actually fed off human paranoia, for Archie was surely a bountiful meal for that right now. It was already starting to give him a headache.
The driver finally stopped the horses in front of Crothby’s and Archie alighted, awkwardly unpeeling his body from where he had ossified into the seat. He came down here just often enough that the doorman recognized him on sight, but Archie slowed to talk to him anyway. It took effort to unfurl the hunched curve of his spine and pretend to look as though he didn’t feel half-dead. “Morning, Benson. Do you know if Althsbury has come by recently?”
“Morning, milord. You’re in luck, Lord Althsbury arrived about an hour ago. He expressed interest in the new cue tables we’ve just had put in the Milton drawing room.” Benson bowed, ushering Archie in. That was pleasantly unexpected – this was an early hour for people to be here, and Archie had resigned himself to wait around for a couple of hours before calling it quits.
“Thanking you.” Archie left his hat and coat with Benson and made his way in. The crowd at Crothby's tended younger, which suited Archie well, primarily made up of minor nobility and younger sons, which gave it more casual air. It also meant he was less likely to bump into Charlie, who had started frequenting Linkton's more recently, no doubt for its reputation of hosting the more important nobility.
The club was located on the end of a rowhouse, with several residences knocked together to form the club’s many rooms. It was a popular space for daytime social activities, with quiet rooms dedicated for reading or business and more social rooms for games or conversation. Archie wound his way towards theback of the house where the Milton drawing room was located, murmuring easy greetings to any of the regulars he recognized, bypassing the cards room and the cigar room. The familiarity of it, the plush patterned carpet soft under his feet and the gentle smell of vanilla and cigars, helped put Archie at ease.
The new additions were a good repurposing of the largest drawing room of the house. Previously it had housed the library, often used for poetry readings in the day and a gentle music in the evenings, but now it also housed four cue tables down one end, bringing a little liveliness to the air. It was completed by floor to ceiling arched windows that invited in the morning sunshine, and long mirrors at either end to make the room seem even bigger. He grimaced at the mirrors, but none of them seemed to house any shadows.
Jeremy of Althsbury was bent over a cue table as Archie walked in, ass in the air and on his tiptoes as he clacked his cue forward. Too bad the man was entirely only interested in women and happily married. Archie had tried, once, in their youth, to sound out if Jeremy might be interested in a brief dalliance behind his stables and had been told by a confused Jeremy that that wasn’t how riding worked, bless him. Archie watched him miss his shot, and clapped slowly as he walked forward.
“What – Archie, you dog! It’s been an age!” Jeremy looked up, his freckled face breaking into a grin. “How have you been?”
“Same as always,” said Archie, moving forward to receive the friendly grasp Jeremy clapped on his arm, and returning it in kind. “Benson said you arrived an hour ago, don’t tell me you’re keeping country hours now?”
“Only time of day I have free right now. Excuse me a moment.” Jeremy broke off as his partner signaled his turn again. “Archie, have you met Williem? He’s Sophia’s cousin on the Morthcoombe side, just moved down last month.”
“I haven’t. A pleasure,” said Archie, extending a hand.
“This is Archibald, his father’s Earl of Russex. We shared a fencing tutor for four disastrous years,” explained Jeremy. They’d paired off well together – Jeremy considered too short to do well and Archie with a general lack of disposition for anything remotely athletic, and Jeremy’s good-naturedness had made the lessons less grueling than they might have been otherwise.
“Will, please.” Williem enveloped Archie’s hand with a meaty paw and strong grip despite his youth. Now Archie knew, the family resemblance to Jeremy’s wife was obvious in the round face and ruddy cheeks, though he was presumably almost ten years younger than Sophia.
“Likewise, call me Archie. Please don’t let me interrupt your game.” Archie retreated to a couch that faced their table as he made himself some tea.
“You aren’t going to give it a shot? If you place your watch on the other table, fellows will know you’re looking for a game and take you up,” said Jeremy, chalking his cue up as he eyed the balls on the table speculatively.
“You know I’ve terrible aim, I’d rather not make a fool of myself. I actually only came to find you. Have you made plans to see the new Trimbini yet? It opens next Thursday,” said Archie. He silently bet to himself that Jeremy was going to miss his shot again.
“I confess, I don’t keep up with what’s on in town anymore,” said Jeremy as he missed. “Bother. Your turn, Will. Put me out of my misery. I only did all that gallivanting around town in the first place to make sure I was seen out and about in society but now Soph and I are sorted, there’s no need for that. Do you want use of the box?”
“No, more the company. Mother’s run out of friends with daughters she can throw at me so now I have to find my own,” said Archie lightly. There was a pang in Archie’s chest. The casual way Jeremy had spoken just now, that was where Archiewanted to be in life. To have his prospects settled and not have to turn up at every event in the city to make sure people still knew he was available. Sophia was a nice girl too, sensible and well-matched for Jeremy, and both of them seemed relieved not to be doing the rounds anymore. Archie just didn’t want the inevitable wife that had to come along with getting to that stage.
It was remarkably easy falling back into the rhythm of conversation with Jeremy, even though it had been months since he’d last seen him. Jeremy snorted. “I don’t miss that. Tell you what, I’ll see if Soph’s up for it and if she’ll invite some of her friends. Williem, you too, how about it?”
