Victorian Boy || l.s. ✔︎

CHAPTER XIV

"Vices are sometimes only virtues carried to excess!" 

―Charles Dickens

Standing outside of Harry's bedchamber were Frederick and Roy.

"What are you two doing here?"

"We're kidnapping you," said Roy as he threw the Duke over his shoulder.

"Stop it! No! Put me down!"

"This is what you wear to bed?" Frederick held up the frilly sleeve of Harry's nightshirt.

"What do you wear?" Harry hissed, trying to break free.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"How does one take it off?" Roy asked curiously, slipping a hand beneath the folds of white fabric.

"One doesn't!"

He was carried down the darkened corridor and staircase to the drawing room. Candlelight and smoke seeped from the crack beneath the door.

Harry was put down and pushed inside.

Lady Calder and a few footmen were standing around the piano sipping mulled wine, while William played them a sonata. Two drunken pageboys sat at their feet gambling with dice.

They all stopped and stared at him.

On the other side of the room, Louis was lying on the divan with his shirt open, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. He was reading a book on Latin grammar.

The moment he saw Harry he dropped the book and jumped to his feet.

Frederick swanned into the room and put an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Look, we brought you a present! He even has a bow!" the Viscount laughed, tugging at the ribbon around Harry's collar.

Louis covered his mouth trying very hard not to smile. "Duke, have they been horrible to you? You look frightfully cross."

Harry straightened the collar of his nightshirt. "I just wasn't dressed for the occasion," he huffed, attempting to recover his pride. 

"Come," Louis said. "Let me pour you a drink."

He wanted to run back to his bedchamber but feared that would only cause further embarrassment, so he stayed. 

As Louis handed him a glass of scotch, Frederick and Eleanor flipped through a stack of sheet music by the piano.

"Play Wagner next," said Frederick. "He's my favorite. I saw Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg in Munich four times and I'm seeing Siegfried in Bayreuth in the spring."

Eleanor flopped down on the divan. Her dark hair was loose and fell down her back like unspooled silk. "I adore his operas but my father says it's just noise."

"My mother thinks George Macfarren is a good composer. I sympathize."

William stared blankly at the sheet music and shuffled though the curling pages. His hands shook with frustration and they fell to the floor.

"I can't read it, your lordship." His face reddened. "I only play by ear."

"Dash it!" Frederick pouted. "I was really looking forward to hearing some Wagner tonight."

Harry rose from the divan and stepped over to the bench in his bare feet. He sat beside William and arranged the sheet music on the rack. Though Harry was out of his element in nearly every way at this soiree, the one place no one could touch him was at the piano.