The Gentleman's Code

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 1852

He 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 she found his brother as boring as he probably found her in return. However, engaging in conversations to the ones closest to you was- for better or worse- part of the table manners they all had to conform to. "I haven't gotten the chance to talk to Sir Charles about his trip to...Where was he again? " Lord Tennyson was asking, addressing the lady sitting next to him. The woman was almost his parents' age, and almost as rich as they were. Lady Oleanna was- in fact- one of the richest women in entre London, so naturally, this was among the reasons why his mother had to send her an invitation to the dinner, regardless of the fact he knew the two women couldn't stand each other. Another unwritten rule that had to be followed.

"Oh, dear me, Tennyson. How very kind of you to ask." Oleanna smiled. Callum tried not to roll his eyes. His Father- the Dear Lord Tennyson had one sole reason to inquire after the Sir in question- trade deals. After the British settled in the province they were now discussing in China, every second lord, baron, merchant, or trader- overall everyone who now belonged to the upper-class society couldn't wait to lay their hands on the riches, waiting for them there. "He is still sailing, somewhere near Canton. " she explained, "He brought me this beautiful necklace as a gift the last time he came back to our summer house in Germany. "

The women gasped, each of them wanted to check the pretty, greenstone adorning the Lady's silver necklace.

Callum would categorize the jewel as excessive, but men weren't supposed to have a say in those matters. At all. "Great, " his father called the servant standing nearby for more wine and added, "He still trades there, as far as I am informed, correct? "

And while women did not discuss business, let alone over dinner tables, everyone present knew Lady Oleanna was not just any woman.

She had been the one with the money, her husband - with a title. A great match, considering the current times. "You are very well informed." Oleanna said, "But I would suggest, in order not to bore all those charming young ladies here with talks of the hardships of the trade to discuss matters later in the library?"

"Very considerate of you. Well, I suggest we do as advised."

That was all his father said. Callum knew Tennyson might have won another partner, or not- that depended on how well he could persuade the woman to cooperate since Charles had refused all connections to his father's trade years ago.

He glanced at his mother, then. Lady Charlotte came from a very old English family of royals.

Marrying his father had been another appropriate match at the time; money sought and found money.

Callum was almost sure they had never loved each other, but so far they had respected the deal. In public, at least. His eyes traveled up to the clock on the wall- it was now nearing ten and he was very much hoping all that parade of fake smiles would end soon, so he could go spend the rest of the night in another company. Which meant- very far from the Hither end of Portland Place, where the wealthy circles gathered. Callum could find what he was looking for only somewhere in London's East End. "You don't seem to be enjoying your meal, Lord Callum." The quiet, gentle voice coming from his left said. "Is the dessert not per your taste?"

He still couldn't understand why young women chased him so relentlessly, but he had learned to quickly get rid of them.

The young lord leaned very close to her, perfectly aware of how inappropriate the move was, and purred in his most silky voice. "And how would such a fine lady know what my tastes are?"

He looked up and pinned her with his cold blue eyes.

Color immediately blossomed on her snow-white cheeks and she quickly looked down at her small gloved hands, neatly folded in her lap. Callum leaned back again and saw his brother looking at him, sharp critique in his eyes. The Lord only lifted his glass as a salute in Liam's direction. He finished his wine and asked the servant to remove the untouched plate in front of him. The night was just beginning - soon - and he had no intention of spending it in the same company he'd had so far. At exactly ten he excused himself and apologized for not being able to join the others in the library for more brandy and talks about trade. Liam would have to manage the rest of the evening by himself.

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 not only in entire London and England but as things with the family's trade were going- they were soon to be among the wealthiest royals in the world.

Also - the Fernsby's were one of the most influential families in Europe. Oliver had to be punctual and meet His Lordship at exactly 10 am and he never allowed himself to be late. Besides, he couldn't afford it considering who the man he was meeting was.

Oliver left the keys in the lounge, and as he didn't know almost anyone in the big house- he headed out in the cold September morning. Oliver had one more thing to do before going to the big mansion in the richest part of the city- say goodbye to his sister. Emma lived in a boarding house as well, like many unmarried women.

The woman who owned the place, however, accepted even women who'd lost their husbands and had no one to provide for them. Oliver had met them only once years ago, but they all seemed to be a peculiar group of inhabitants.

He was soon knocking on the small house's door. The maid who welcomed Oliver in instructed him to wait for his sister in the parlor. Emma showed up shortly. "Oliver!"

She hugged him tightly and he bent down, so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad to see you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I didn't really get the chance to send a note."

"I can count the times I've seen you for the past five years on the fingers of my left hand." The smile on her face stilled when another thought passed her mind "Has something happened? "

"No, nothing's happened. "

"You look tired, have you been eating well?"

Oliver knew he was still twice bigger than most men, but had to admit that not sleeping was probably showing on his face. "Everything's all right. I just came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? But you just came back to London." Emma complained. "I can't say I even know where you were."

"Just working with another lord." He smiled, trying to sound reassuring. "Are you really going there? I received your letter last month, but I couldn't believe it."

"I am, yes. I am Lord Tennyson's new valet. "

Emma clasped her hands. She had always been one of the most beautiful women among her peers.

Oliver was sure had she been born in a noble family, she'd be the queen of many hearts and numerous men would want to have her as a wife.

If only.

He shook the thought away when his sister said.

"I want to know how everything is. Please, write more often from now on."

"I will. "

He noticed her dress wasn't much newer than his old coat was and said

"I will send you a new dress with the money from my first salary."

"No, Oliver. You've been supporting us enough so far. "

"I don't see why I shouldn't continue doing so. "

"No, you have your life now. Don't look back on us and this life that you're leaving behind."

"I'm not leaving behind anything, just..." he began, but his sister said quickly. "My dear brother. " Emma said, "I'm no lady of noble origin and this is why I allow myself to interrupt you to say- embrace your new life there."

"I am not going to forget about you, you know that very well."

"No, listen to me. You went through enough."

"Don't start with this Emma. Things are different now, you know that."

"I do. Yet, you're the only one I have after our parents' death and I want you to be happy. "

"Everything's been going well, I assure you. "

She looked at him, still not trusting him, and said

"Take more care of yourself, it's all I ask of you. I have the household now and the lady I'm tending to has been very caring. I'm only saying it's time for you to start your life. Promise me."

He exhaled and reminded himself any arguing with Emma was futile. "All right. I promise you."

"Promised. "

"But you can't stop me from doing what I can from you. "

"You never relent, do you?"

"Never."

She laughed and shook his head

"Come here. "

They embraced each other one last time. "I will miss you, " she said and he wrapped his big hands around his sister's slim figure tighter. He was again reminded of how much weight she'd lost.

"And I will miss you, Emma. "

Oliver knew her life wasn't as easy as she tried to persuade him to think it was, but she'd always been that way.

They said their goodbyes, Oliver's heart tight with the knowledge he didn't know when the next time he could meet her would be. Oliver went out on the street and headed for the market.

It was getting late and the streets were already buzzing with the sound of men and women, selling their goods and numerous animals, walking between people. Horses and old, moldy carriages were moving around and he waved for one. Oliver shared the address with the coachman and the man laughed. "Don't screw with me, boy. What would you do there? "

"I need to get to the manor as soon as possible. "

The coachman shook his head. "I ain't getting in trouble for you, boy. "

"I will pay you. "

"Aye, but I'm telling ya, I can't take you there. They'll hang me for just being near the property. "

Oliver dug his pockets and took out a handful of coins.

He knew no one from the poorer parts would risk it unless offered a very good sum of money. Oliver's last coins, for that matter, but nothing could be done. The man picked one with his dirty hand and bit at it.

He had a few teeth missing and Oliver wondered what the man was checking for, anyway. After his close evaluation, the man said. "Right. Hop on. But I can't drive much up. I'll leave you near and you walk from there."

Oliver smiled and got on.

*****

He checked his pocket watch - 30 minutes to ten. Perfect.

He crossed the long walk from where the man left him and he was now crossing the front gate of Lord Tennyson's mansion. The big Victorian gardens were bright green, with beautiful flowers blooming, even though they weren't supposed to be at that time of the year.

Oliver didn't know anything about gardening, but he could recognize many of the plants didn't belong to the European continent at all.

He didn't even want to count how many people were necessary to maintain the garden, let alone the rest of the house. The gardeners were nowhere to be seen, of course- as it was probably the time for visits in His Lordship's study and guests should never see any of the personnel. He was starting to get anxious he may, in fact, not make it on time, as only the front garden would take minutes to cross. The place was enormous. The manor was like five houses put together into one. Oliver counted three stories and more than twenty French windows and balconies. He couldn't imagine what the back yard would be like. He took a deep breath, did his best to straighten his suit, and said almost aloud. "In the name of the Queen, don't mess this up, Oliver. "