When Keeley had finished breakfast, he succumbed to a short nap. Upon awakening, he finally got out of bed and readied himself to meet the Earl. He didn’t realize until he slipped out from under the sheets that he had been undressed during the night. He blushed as he realized the Earl himself must have stripped him and then berated himself for the reaction. Why should he be so self-conscious around the man? It was true they had shared a very intimate exchange the night before, but that didn’t mean Keeley needed to feel weak-kneed when he thought of him. After all, he had to remember why he had come here in the first place. He had important negotiations to see through once all this supernatural business had been laid to rest.
Checking his figure in the large standing mirror—an elaborately decorated piece that must have been worth a small fortune—Keeley adjusted his waistcoat and firmed his resolve. If he was going to speak with authority, he couldn’t let himself be intimidated by the odd events of the previous evening or his opulent surroundings.
No matter how much he coached himself, however, the young man felt his pulse quicken at the sight of Faolan lounging in a spacious, velvet-draped sofa within his study. The fire was blazing in the small hearth, keeping the day’s grey, damp chill from slipping inside the inviting room.
“Your Lordship,” the young man said with a slight bow, forgetting his promise to address the man informally. Glancing up, he suddenly realized they were not alone. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
“Not at all. This is a good friend of mine, Larkin Kane,” Faolan said, standing and introducing him to the other man, who remained sitting lazily in his plush chair, looking at the boy with a smile that Keeley thought was a little too friendly.
“Larkin, this is Keeley Finnegan.”
“A pleasure, sir,” the dark-haired boy said with polite formality.
“I’ve been curious to meet you all day, Mr. Finnegan.”
Something in the blonde man’s tone made Keeley feel self-conscious. The man had a knowing glint in his eye and Keeley wondered if he knew what had happened between him and the Earl the previous evening. He certainly hoped not.
“I’m sorry if I caused you to wait overly long, I’m afraid I have imposed upon the Earl’s hospitality too much today,” Keeley replied, unsure of exactly what to say. The rules of etiquette didn’t really cover such odd situations.
“No need to apologize. I’m sure Faolan was more than happy to lend a hand.” Larkin’s grin was wicked, making the young man before him fidget uncomfortably. Keeley was now almost certain Larkin knew what had occurred and was toying with him.
“Larkin, behave yourself,” Faolan said, shooting his friend a look of warning before turning his attentions back to Keeley. “Won’t you sit? We’ve much to discuss and already the day is getting on.”
Nodding, Keeley surveyed the room for an open seat, but the only place available was the small space next to the Earl on the velvet sofa. Larkin had to hold back a chuckle as the boy sat down, squeezing himself into the cushions awkwardly so that his body didn’t touch Faolan’s.
“Shall we summon Rian for our little meeting?”
Faolan nodded and rang for the boy with the long bell rope hanging against one wall.
“Meeting?” Keeley asked quietly.
“Yes. This concerns him too,” Faolan replied.
Keeley wasn’t sure why there needed to be so many other people involved in this affair. As uneasy as it made him though, he didn’t think it was his place to gainsay the Earl.
Plucking up his courage, Keeley asked, “Your Lordship, there were other matters that I wished to discuss with you besides the incident that occurred last night. Will there be time to speak with you privately after this is matter is settled?”
“I told you, Keeley, please call me Faolan.”
The boy was flustered and a bit annoyed that the entire reason for his visit was constantly being put on hold. “Yes, Faolan, what I mean is—“
The Earl placed a warm hand over his. “That matter concerns my friends as well. Don’t worry,” Faolan continued when Keeley’s face fell into a look of frustration, “everything will be clear soon.”
To Keeley’s relief, Rian soon arrived, carrying a silver tray of tea and biscuits.
“Rian, you really do anticipate my every need, thank you,” Faolan told his servant as the young man set the tray down on the low table before him.
“I see Mr. Finnegan is feeling better now, I’m glad to see you up and about, sir.”
Keeley simply nodded quietly, caught off guard once again at the unexpected ‘sir.’
“Take a seat Rian, we were just about to discuss the events of yesterday evening and discuss how Keeley might fit into our unique mystical society.”
The dark-haired boy found this last phrase cryptic. And unsettling.
Faolan turned to him, “Keeley, would you mind repeating what you remember about the man you saw last night.”
“Well, he was all in black, with dark hair and eyes as well, and after I followed him, I sort of lost myself in some kind of trance. All I recall after a while was that it was no longer a man I was following, but a bright red butterfly.”
Not liking being put on the spot, Keeley made his reiteration as short and concise as possible.
“Ah, I see,” Larkin said, though Keeley couldn’t imagine how this brief description could illuminate anything. Before the blonde man could explain himself, however, he saw that Rian had settled himself on the arm of his chair and the man cocked an eyebrow up at him.
“Rian, love, your head is higher than mine.”
“Oh, how presumptuous of me!” the servant replied, immediately kneeling on the floor at the other man’s feet.
Keeley watched this exchange with rising anger and his stubborn temper flared. “Is it because Rian is a servant, or maybe because he’s a Catholic, that you force him to be so subservient? Or are you just so vain that you have to subjugate everyone of lesser rank in front of others?”
Faolan’s laugh startled him and Keeley turned red when he realized how incredibly rude he had been, even if he had meant what he said.
“I told you he had a strong will!” the Earl said, glancing at the two other men.
“What do you think, Rian?” Larkin asked, smiling down affectionately at the young man and tucking a finger beneath the servant’s chin to tilt his head back, “Do I treat you unfairly?”
To his surprise, Keeley saw Rian’s eyes sparkle mischievously and he gave a soft laugh as he answered, “Only when you tease me.”
Keeley was dumbfounded and felt an odd heat drift into his body as he watched the two men gazing at each other.
“You see,” Faolan said quietly in his ear, “subjugation is merely a part of Larkin and Rian’s relationship. It has less to do with politics and more to do with pleasure.”
Wide-eyed and hoping he had somehow heard him wrong, Keeley made a silent vow to keep his mouth shut the next time he presumed to know what was going on in the Earl’s household.
“Now,” Faolan said louder, “perhaps we can return to the matter at hand?” The redheaded man turned to Keeley once more. “Yesterday Larkin put a ward around the house to protect all the guests from any spirits or apparitions during All Hallows Eve; however, if one was invited, it was allowed entrance.”
“Invited?” Keeley asked, dubiously.
“Yes,” Larkin answered, “You see the ‘man in black,’ as you called him, was actually a guest here last night.”
“A guest? I thought he was some sort of ghost…”
“Not exactly.”
“Keeley, you see soul-spirits, isn’t that right?” Faolan interjected, as if he was asking whether or not he wanted honey with his tea. The boy gaped at him.
“H-how did—?”
“What do they look like to you?” the Earl pressed, ignoring the boy’s shock.
Still too rattled to ask how on earth Faolan knew this information, Keeley replied, “They look like small white butterflies, floating on the air.”
“Those are mortal souls, but the souls from the Faerie realm take on a different hue—red.”
“Then, that man, he was a spirit from the Faerie world?” Keeley found this difficult to believe, although so many inexplicable events had happened since he stepped foot in the Earl’s house that he didn’t know why this should come as a surprise.
“Yes, he is known as Far Dorocha, ‘The Dark Man,’” Faolan explained.
An icy shiver ran up Keeley’s spine at the mention of this name. “He’s the one who is said to hunt mortals down to drag them off to the land of Faerie, is he not?”
Such dreadful rumors about Far Dorocha were often whispered at the fireside during dark and stormy nights; Keeley had only half-believed them and he never imagined he would ever come face-to-face with such a being.
Faolan smiled at Keeley description, “He’s more subtle than rumor makes him out to be. He often persuades people to follow him, as he did with you, rather than kidnapping them on dark roads.”
“He was your guest?” Keeley asked, spreading his hands before him. He was astonished more and more with each passing moment at the strange and powerful Earl Faolan.
Larkin interjected, “Don’t try to pry open Faolan’s secrets about his ties to the Faerie realm. I’ve been at it for years, and he’s as tight-lipped as ever.”
“My friend, you are far too dramatic,” Faolan retorted before turning back to Keeley.
“I happen to have some acquaintances who reside within the Faerie land. Most people don’t even have the talent to see them, so inviting them usually causes little harm. You, however, did see him and you must have sparked Far Dorocha’s interest. It is very unlike him to try to seduce one of my guests—and not very polite at that. I shall have to speak with him.”
Keeley blushed deeply at the use of the term ‘seduce’ and thought the Earl far guiltier of this particular sin than the Dark Man, but he kept this thought to himself.
“Is that all that is necessary? You simply have to talk with him and he won’t come after me again?”
There was the briefest of pauses before Faolan replied, and it unnerved Keeley that the man would hesitate on this crucial point.
“It should be enough, but I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to speak with him, which means you could be in danger until then. And that brings us to our larger discussion.”
“And what would that be, exactly?” Keeley asked, looking at the redheaded man shrewdly. He would not leave without discussing the issue of the Catholic tenants, no matter what other plans Faolan had.
“Ah, here it comes,” Larkin whispered in Rian’s ear as he let his fingers slip through the boy’s unruly brunette locks.
Ignoring his friend, the Earl focused his attention on Keeley. “When I had Rian slip you an invitation for the masquerade, I did want to talk to you about how I could aid the Catholic workers, which I’m sure you had anticipated. I confess though, that I had other reasons for calling you here as well.”
“If you don’t mind, Earl Faolan, could you please come to the point?” The dark-haired boy was growing increasingly impatient and feeling slightly used at this point in the proceedings.
Faolan smiled indulgently, “As you wish. Keeley, I wanted to bring you here to work for me.” The boy was about to ask why, but Faolan raised a hand to stop him. “Asking questions will only hinder my explanation. My offer is twofold. First, by keeping you here, you can be a direct link between your fellow compatriots and myself, which will make it that much easier for me to lend my aid. Secondly, you have a talent, Keeley—a spiritual talent if you will—and I think you could be very useful to me on that account. Also, if you like, you now have a third reason for coming to live and work here. It will provide protection from Far Dorocha or any other spiritual pursuers.” “Why should my ‘spiritual talents’ be of any value to you?”
Faolan smiled like a cat eying a canary. “Because all of us you see here are part of a little organization we like to call The Society of the Scarlet Butterfly.”
Keeley scoffed, “Sounds like a ladies’ sewing circle.”
This elicited a snort of laughter from Larkin, but the Earl remained unmoved. Keeley began to feel uncomfortable under his stare, the nearness of their bodies troubling as Faolan focused all his attention on him.
“It might sound unusual, but then again, we are all rather unusual people.”
“Do you mind telling me what this ‘Society’ is about?”
“Sometimes I wonder that myself,” Larkin piped up, smiling over his tea.
Faolan sent him a scathing look in return.
“You already know now what the ‘scarlet butterfly’ refers to. The organization itself simply deals with various disturbances in the spiritual and supernatural realm, circumstances that those without such insight as ourselves are helpless against.”
“Such as?” Keeley asked, still skeptical of the Earl’s motives.
“Maladies or injuries caused by vengeful spirits, possessions, etc.” Faolan’s eyes surveyed the dark-haired boy intently, the green depths sparkling with hidden knowledge. “I think you have had some of your own experiences along those lines. Am I right?”
Keeley’s eyes widened, wondering again how the Earl seemed to know so much about him.
“Perhaps,” he muttered.
The boy remained silent for a few moments and Faolan allowed the time to let his offer sink in before asking, “So, what do you say? Are you willing to join us here?”
“But you haven’t mentioned what my work would be yet.”
“All I would ask is your participation in the Society.”
This surprised Keeley, and he shifted in his seat uneasily, his eyes flickering over to Rian. Somehow it felt wrong for Faolan to offer him a place in his household and not demand the same amount of work as he did from his other servants.
“I would want to pull my own weight. I’m not asking for any favors.”
“I am not offering any.”
The Earl was not oblivious to the boy’s glances in Rian’s direction. “I would expect a lot from you in regards to the Society. If you’re worried that you would not be working as hard as others in my service, you needn’t be. Each person in my household works according to their ability and talent. Rian, for instance, is an excellent valet and footman, but he does not have the talents that the rest of us possess. And as for Larkin, well, he is a friend.” Faolan eyed the blonde man, “and a free-loader.” Keeley looked over at the two men, curious as to the details of their involvement in the Society. “Would it be ill-mannered of me to ask what service Larkin provides the Society then?”
“Not at all,” Larkin replied, “though it is difficult to describe to others. You could say I am an aura-reader.”
“Aura-reader?” Keeley said shaking his head.
“I can see the energy around people. Around all living things in fact, and determine if something is amiss.”
“I see,” though he wasn’t sure he did.
“Any other questions or have you made your decision?” Faolan asked, leaning in slightly towards Keeley and making the boy feel as if he was using his charms to influence his choice.
The dark-haired boy had to admit that it was an enticing proposition. Anything was better than slaving in the fields, though he felt a pang of guilt that he would be leaving behind the family that had so generously taken him in. But the Earl would certainly pay more than that stingy overseer did and Keeley could always share it with them. The only real problem he had with the arrangement was that the details of his work were extremely vague, and he wasn’t sure he would be safe living under the same roof as the Earl and his unique household. The thought of being around the attractive redhead all the time was both exciting and terrifying all at once.
“Alright,” he answered finally. “I accept your offer.”
A slow smile spread over the Earl’s lips as he heard these words. It was as if he had received news that was long-expected, but in which he took secret delight.
“I am glad to hear it. I will send for your things in the morning, and Rian will arrange your room for you.” The man stood and began giving his servant instructions.
“Wait! I didn’t say I was starting this second!”
The redheaded Earl turned to him, “Is there a problem?”
Faolan’s nonchalance and presumption irritated him. “I have to go back and explain all this to my friends and settle matters with my current landlord. You can’t expect me to just drop everything! I need at least a month to arrange it all!”
“That will not suffice. Far Dorocha is still after you now. You need my protection. You can return by coach in the coming weeks and let anyone who might be concerned know of your change in residence. I don’t see the need for you to put yourself in danger just to settle a few matters that I can easily take care of for you.”
“But I don’t want you taking care of them!” Keeley yelled, his ire rising. “The people who took me in after my family died deserve more consideration than that! I will need to speak with them about all this, I don’t want them hearing it secondhand!”
With an exasperated sigh, Faolan replied, “Fine, I will give you some time to handle matters personally, but not more than a week, Keeley.”
“But—”
“No excuses!” the Earl retorted firmly. “You are under my employment now, and although I am not beneath compromise, I will not have you putting yourself in needless danger. If Far Dorocha is after you, others might be as well.”
Walking over to the boy, Faolan placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, speaking to him in a softer tone. “Trust me. I have an intuition about these sorts of things, and the sooner you are under my roof, the better.”
“Very well,” Keeley replied bitterly.
“At the end of this week I will send a carriage for you, so be ready. Also, do not, by any means, venture out alone at night while you are away. Do you understand?”
The boy pursed his lips in frustration, but held back his biting retort, saying instead, “Yes, I understand.”
“Good. I’ll arrange for a coach back to your current residence first thing in the morning.”
“What? Why can’t I go home now?”
Faolan shot him a look of warning. “I just told you that you are not to travel at night when it is unnecessary and the day is already growing dark.”
Although Keeley looked on the verge of saying something scathing, he held his tongue and exited the study without further discussion, stomping back to his room.
“Quite the firecracker, that one. Have fun breaking him in,” Larkin said with a smile, obviously enjoying the confrontation.
The Earl sat down with a heavy sigh and leaned back into the plush, velvet sofa. Keeley was even more bull-headed than he had anticipated.
When Keeley returned to the room he was staying in, he slammed the door shut behind him and cursed under his breath. A fine mess he had gotten himself into. How was he ever going to tolerate living with that man—or working for him, for that matter? What was equally as troublesome to the boy was the fact that he had forgotten to ask about the Earl’s ‘talent.’ Faolan was the most mysterious man of the bunch, and Keeley had failed to gain any knowledge about him.
His stomach growled and he realized he had not taken advantage of the proffered biscuits in the study. He had no idea how long it would be until dinner, or if he would even feel like attending after the way he had left the Earl. To ignore his hunger, he tried to nap on the bed, but had to settle for lying there, brooding in silence.
The day wore on and finally he heard a knock at the door.
“Mr. Finnegan, sir, dinner is ready. Shall I show you to the dining room?”
Biting his lip, Keeley weighed the consequences of refusing to attend against his growing hunger. His characteristic stubbornness won out.
“Thank you, but I won’t be attending.”
“Very well, sir.”
The boy turned over and watched the door shut behind Rian, surprised that the servant made no attempt to persuade him to come to dinner. He almost wished he had.
A few minutes later, he heard the door reopen and the familiar sound of platters jingling on a silver tray. So Rian had brought the food to him, so much the better. But when Keeley looked toward the door, he did not see the servant carrying the tray, but Faolan himself.