The monthly bachelor gathering at the Grand Clubhouse was a long-standing tradition in the city, one that had been observed for generations among the gentlemen of good families.
Every month, on the last Saturday, men of standing... whether married or unmarried, young or older... would come together in the elegant halls of the clubhouse. They drank fine wines and spirits, shared stories from their lives, discussed business or politics, and enjoyed card games or billiards. It was a place where alliances were formed, news was exchanged, and reputations were carefully maintained. Entry required a formal invitation and a name that carried weight in society; no one without both would be admitted past the doors.
The servants in the great houses often spoke of these evenings with excitement, describing them as the highlight of the social calendar for any man fortunate enough to attend.
Noel had been looking forward to this day since his father handed him the invitation. He had barely slept the night before, his mind racing with thoughts of what the evening might bring.
In his spacious chamber, he stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining his appearance from every angle. He turned slowly, first to one side, then the other, smoothing down the fabric of his coat and checking for any imperfections.
"Is this too much?" he asked aloud, though mostly to himself.
His outfit was carefully chosen: a well-tailored coat in deep midnight blue, made from fine wool that fit snugly at the waist and fell straight to his hips. Underneath, a white shirt with a high collar, fastened with small pearl buttons that gleamed softly. His cravat was charcoal grey with thin silver threads running through it, tied in a neat knot that sat just right at his throat. The trousers were dark and perfectly pressed, ending at polished black boots.
His hair had been washed that morning and combed back, though a few soft curls at the ends refused to stay in place and fell forward around his face.
The young maid who had helped him dress stood a few steps behind, her hands folded in front of her apron.
"You look very handsome, Young Master," she said with a genuine smile. "Quite elegant, if I may say so."
Noel smiled back at her reflection. "Elegant is what I was aiming for. Safe and proper."
He reached up to adjust his cuffs once more, then tugged lightly at the cravat.
"And not... odd in any way?" he added, his voice a bit lower.
The maid shook her head quickly. "Not at all, sir. Just a bit more polished than your usual attire. You'll stand out nicely."
"That's the idea," Noel replied with a small nod. "I wish to be noticeable, but not in a way that causes talk."
The maid hesitated, unsure what to say next, so she simply busied herself straightening a fold in the curtain. Everything about him caused talk.
Noel checked the mirror again. Satisfied at last, he let out a long breath and rested his hands on the edge of the dressing table.
"This is really happening," he said quietly. "A proper evening with other gentlemen. Conversations and introductions with new people. Maybe even someone interesting, with decent manners and..."
He trailed off, a hopeful look crossing his face.
The maid cleared her throat politely. "Your brothers are waiting downstairs, Young Master. They've been ready for a while."
Noel straightened up immediately. "Already? I didn't realise it was so late."
"They sent word up a few minutes ago," she said.
He nodded, took one final glance in the mirror, and headed for the door. "All right. I'm ready."
As he walked down the wide corridor toward the stairs, his steps felt lighter than usual. This was more than just an evening out—it was his first real chance to step into society on his own terms, away from the usual family constraints. Excitement bubbled up inside him, making his heart beat a little faster.
Outside the mansion, the air was cool, typical for late autumn. The family carriage stood waiting in the drive, its black lacquer gleaming, pulled by two matched horses. The butler was there, standing straight with his hands behind his back.
Rowan was also waiting nearby, dressed in his usual dark uniform: black coat with silver buttons, white gloves folded neatly at his belt. His posture was perfect, his face calm and expressionless as always.
Noel didn't see him right away, too focused on the carriage. But Rowan saw Noel immediately.
He had watched Noel prepare for outings many times, but this was different. The deep blue coat suited him perfectly, making his eyes appear brighter and his build more mature. He looked less like the impulsive youngest brother and more like a young man ready to take his place among others.
Rowan kept his expression neutral, but he felt a slight tightness in his chest.
"There you are," Noel said brightly when he finally noticed Rowan. "Ready to escort us?"
The butler bowed slightly. "Young Master Noel, you look most appropriate for the occasion."
Noel felt his cheeks warm. "Thank you. I hope I won't bring any disgrace to the family name."
The butler gave a small, knowing smile. "I'm sure you won't. But your father asked me to remind you: stay close to your brothers and return home with Rowan. No wandering off alone."
Noel sighed but nodded. "I'll do my best to follow instructions."
Rowan's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked briefly to the butler at those words.
Noel turned to Rowan and gave him a light pat on the arm. "You'll be coming along, as usual?"
Rowan bowed his head. "Yes, Young Master."
The carriage ride was about thirty minutes through the city streets. Noel climbed in first and took a seat by the window, careful not to crease his coat. Rowan followed and sat across from him, facing backwards, his gaze fixed on the passing buildings.
Noel's two brothers were already inside. Alaric, the eldest, sat straight and imposing, his broad shoulders filling the space. His dark hair was combed neatly, and his charcoal coat gave him an air of authority. His eyes, sharp and assessing, rested on Noel as he entered.
Next to him was Lucien, more relaxed, leaning back with one arm along the seat. His auburn hair was a bit untidy, and his expression held its usual hint of amusement.
"Good evening," Noel said politely as he settled in. "I hope you're both in good health."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You actually agreed to travel with us?"
Lucien chuckled. "You had the same surprised look yesterday when Noel greeted me properly."
Alaric turned to Noel. "This is unusual. You've avoided riding with us for years."
Noel kept his hands folded in his lap. "Father insisted. And I've decided it's time to behave better."
Lucien laughed outright. "A good child now? That's a change."
Alaric remained serious, watching Noel closely, as if trying to spot the reason behind the shift.
Noel glanced across at Rowan and gave him a quick, playful wink.
Rowan stiffened for a moment, then quickly looked out the window, his face unchanging.
The rest of the ride passed in relative quiet, broken only by the sound of the wheels on the road and occasional comments from Lucien about people they passed.
When the carriage pulled up to the Grand Clubhouse, Noel stepped out and paused on the steps, taking in the sight.
The building was impressive: tall columns at the entrance, wide steps leading up to heavy doors, and light spilling out from the windows. Already, other carriages were arriving, and well-dressed men were making their way inside.
Noel looked around at them all. "There are certainly a lot of fine-looking gentlemen here tonight."
Lucien stepped out behind him and smirked. "Interested in men now, are you?"
Noel paused, realising his mistake. In this setting, such a comment could be taken the wrong way.
He recovered quickly. "I meant in the sense of good tailoring and proper bearing. Nothing more."
Alaric took hold of Noel's elbow firmly. "Stay close. No drifting off."
"Of course," Noel agreed.
They handed over their invitations at the door and were given silk bands to wear around their wrists as identification. Then they entered the main hall.
The space was grand: high ceilings with chandeliers casting warm light, walls lined with rich panelling, and groups of men standing or seated on plush chairs and sofas. Servants moved quietly with trays of drinks. Conversation filled the air... followed by laughter, deep voices discussing the latest news, the occasional clink of glasses. In one corner, a small orchestra played soft music.
Noel looked around, trying not to appear too eager, but he couldn't hide his interest. This was exactly the kind of place he had imagined.
They made their way to a private lounge reserved for the Hartwell family, where a servant immediately approached to offer drinks. Noel accepted a glass of sherry and thanked the man politely.
Rowan stood a short distance away, watching the room but keeping an eye on Noel in particular. He noticed the way Noel smiled at the servant and felt a slight frown form.
Alaric checked his pocket watch. "The main events will start soon. Stay out of any card games or arguments."
"I won't get involved in anything troublesome," Noel promised.
Neither brother looked entirely convinced.
A few minutes later, the host for the evening appeared on a raised platform at one end of the hall. He was tall, with fair hair and a confident manner, dressed in an elegant evening coat.
He raised his glass and called for attention. "Gentlemen, a warm welcome to this month's gathering."
The room quieted, and men turned toward him. Applause followed his brief words of welcome.
With that, the evening officially began.