The Clockmaker's Shadow | ONC 2021 | LGBT

5. Reset

(Author's Note: this chapter is dedicated to my new friend - met through this year's ONC - LEfuller whose story, The New Age, makes you wonder if immortality is all it's cracked up to be!)

There were some marvellous devices in that shop, thought Rik, as he left, having spent a good quarter of an hour browsing. Maybe, once he found work and a more stable place to stay, he could think about buying one of them. A small clock for the mantelpiece, perhaps, or one of those clever toys.

Considering he was now in familiar territory, Rik decided to continue onward to see what had become of the duke's residence, where he had lived and worked for several months in the last world. Who knew, perhaps if it were still standing, he could apply for work there again. It was as good a place as any to make a start.

Somewhat to his disappointment, although there was a large building on the block, it was not the same. Instead of an impressive stone building, with a pitched roof sloping away from the street and an elegant turret at one corner, there was a black and white timber framed house with soaring gables.

The wall protecting the property from the street was just below head height and when he peered over the top, he could see a narrow forecourt, paved with stone. A short flight of steps led up to an imposing wooden door. Quite different. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained, he told himself.

He twisted the iron handle on the garden door and went in. Moments later he was standing on the top step. A long chain with a pear-shaped weight on the end hung down beside the door frame and Rik gave it a hearty tug. Bells chimed faintly within the house, and moments later, the door opened.

"Yes, sir? Can I help you?" asked the elderly man in black.

Not the butler Rik had known before.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Rik said politely. "But I was told this was the residence of Duke Hammond?" Well, it had been, and this was the simplest way he could think of to discover the current state of affairs.

The butler frowned and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I fear you have been misinformed. Viscount Harlow is the present owner."

"Perhaps I misheard," Rik improvised. "I don't suppose the Viscount has need of a secretary?" he added hopefully.

"A secretary?" repeated the butler, looking even more confused.

Maybe he had the word wrong, thought Rik. Sometimes the difference between worlds was as subtle as a shift in language. "An assistant. Someone to help him with correspondence and tasks connected with his business."

"Oh, I don't think so..." The butler shook his head again, then paused. He studied Rik thoughtfully for a moment. "Though perhaps I had better enquire. You may come inside and wait in the hall. I shan't be long."

Trying not to get his hopes up too much, Rik followed the butler inside and stood waiting, as the servant disappeared upstairs.

True to his word, the butler reappeared after a few minutes, followed by a darkly handsome man of perhaps forty, with an air of authority in every step. Rik swallowed. This was not the finicky, white-haired scholar he had known before. This was a virile man in the prime of life. The Viscount paused for a moment on the bottom stair, studying Rik through hooded eyes.

Rik stared back, taking in the elegant cut of his clothes. The woollen breeches outlined muscular legs and his white linen shirt frothed with lace at the cuffs. Black hair flopped down over his high forehead, and his eyes, which were fixed on Rik, were the colour of the sky at dusk. They seemed to look right through him.

"I'm Harlow."

"Rik Sandro, sir," Rik offered, wondering uneasily whether he was expected to bow.

The Viscount left the staircase and came toward Rik, a quizzical expression on his face. "So, I hear you are seeking to enter my employment?"

"Y-yes, sir," stuttered Rik, who was having second thoughts. This man, he feared, would not be one to tolerate deception.

"And what would you do? What are your talents?"

"Sir, in my wor- er, work, I am called a secretary. I have a neat hand and can copy out correspondence. I can also deal with routine business matters on your behalf and that sort of thing. My last employer was a scholar and I was able to help him with his research-"

"But I am not a scholar," interrupted the Viscount. "I can't see that I would have need of your services."

"Though surely you have business correspondence? Appointments to keep? I could help you with that. Also," Rik rushed on, now suddenly keen to get the job, "I am young and fit, I can run errands. I'm sure there are other tasks you could set me."

A smile curved the Viscount's thin lips and his eyes gleamed. "I'm sure that there are." He paused for a moment, considering.

"Why are you no longer with the scholar?"

Rik plastered an appropriately somber expression on his face, secretly pleased that he'd been given the perfect opportunity to explain why he had no references. "He was an old man, sir. I'm afraid he caught the ague and passed away quite quickly."

The Viscount twitched an eyebrow.

Damn, thought Rik. That had been too glib. He was just resigning himself to be turned away when he heard,

"Shall we say a week's trial? That should give me enough time to see if I can find enough for you to do."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," spluttered Rik. He had no idea why the Viscount had suddenly decided in his favour but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Martin will find you a room here. I assume you are able to start immediately?"

"Yes, thank you, sir. I just need to collect my belongings and pay my account at the inn."

"Of course. Settle your affairs first and return. You can join me for dinner."

~~~

As soon as the door had closed behind Rik, Martin turned to the Viscount.

"Are you sure about this, sir? The young man doesn't seem to have any credentials whatsoever... "

"Oh I know, he's an adventurer if ever I saw one," the Viscount said cheerfully. "I think he'll work out fine, but make sure the house is locked up tight tonight, won't you? Just in case?"

"Of course, sir, I always do!" Martin replied stiffly. "I only hope you know what you're doing!"

The Viscount smiled.