Who: Samuel and Gabriel What: A Casual Visit Where: Miss. Lydia's When: Tuesday, 12 September 1888 Ratings/warnings: N/A
Samuel Montgomery was enjoying a leisurely late morning after a night of frivolity and pleasure. Dressed all buttoned up and collar to the chin, the incubus was looking forward on visiting a friend, a mentor. He made his way, taking his usual route from his flat that his wealthy benefactor paid for, to Miss Lydia’s.
A smile spread across his lips as Samuel recalled a particularly lovely moment from the night before. Shaking his head, he then smoothed his hair while looking in a shop window and soon arrived at his destination.
Gabriel was in his office, working on some paperwork, when his young friend was shown in by Lydia herself, who gave them both a quick nod before excusing herself.
He stood warmly, and walked over to his young friend, giving the incubus a warm pat on the back, and a hearty handshake. “Samuel, my dear,” Gabriel said, leaning over to kiss Samuel on both cheeks. “So good to see you, lad, come in, sit, please.”
Gabriel’d known the young incubus since he was a boy -- his mother and Gabriel had a tentative understanding of sorts in their rival establishments, and when Samuel had shown up to Miss Lydia’s as a young man, disgruntled and frustrated with his lot in life (and his mother), Gabriel’d taken him under his wing, and managed to land him work at Spectacular Review, where he’d flourished, and caught the eye of his current benefactor.
“May I get you a drink?” Gabriel asked, looking over at him, eyebrow raised. “You’re looking quite well,” he added, grinning. Samuel not only looked as though he’d benefitted substantially from his benefactor by way of an expensive wardrobe, but he also looked rather well fed in that satisfied sort of way a fellow demon couldn’t help but notice.
Samuel quickly said ‘Thank you’ to Miss. Lydia and nodded as he watched her leave.
“Gabriel, likewise.” The younger Incubus replied and returned the kisses and handshake in kind. Then he took a seat.
Samuel was ever-thankful to Gabriel for his generosity and mentorship. He’d probably still be struggling and scraping by if not for him. Yes, the young incubus still visited Whitechapel, but thankfully he hadn’t called it home in years.
“Yes, please,” Samuel smiled softly, blushing slightly at Gabriel’s saying he looked quite well. “Thank you, thank you. You do as well.”
“You’re too kind,” Gabriel replied, easily, getting up and pouring them each a sherry. “Tell me, how’ve you been keeping yourself then?” He asked, over his shoulder. “Your gentleman friend still treating you well?”
It wasn’t entirely unheard of -- goodness knows, there were kept mistresses all over London -- but being a kept man was a good sight rarer, and Gabriel knew it could be somewhat fraught, and an imprisonable offense should Samuel’s arrangement be discovered.
Samuel could almost see a glow about Gabriel. It was good to see his mentor well-fed. “I’ve doing the usual - some plays and enjoying my castmates company,” he smirked. “Hmm? Yes, quite well. I am to visit him tomorrow night.”
It was a dangerous city with their buttoned up and laced up tight thoughts and clothing. Samuel was doing what he needed to get by. And being kept by a rich man was one of those double-edged but lovely swords.
“Good,” Gabriel replied, nodding. To a certain extent, there was a certain mutual assurance to such arrangements -- it was in the gentleman’s best interest to keep discreet, but he was glad it was still a beneficial one for both parties, at least from the pleased look on Samuel’s face.
He passed Samuel a sherry. “And your finances?” He asked. “I do hope you’re putting some of it away.” He knew his friend liked to live large, but his arrangement with his benefactor was by no means guaranteed.
With the small handful of years the arrangements had been in place, Samuel was comfortable with it. Perhaps the money, the lush living arrangements made up for it. And yes, he was quite discreet. There were no personal entanglements beyond that of his benefactor and himself. And that was few and far between.
“Thank you,” he spoke as he took the sherry. “I am. I only spend perhaps forty percent each month. The rest is in a bank account in my name only.” Samuel knew nothing was guaranteed. But he hoped to keep relationships, friendships going - especially with other demons.
“Good lad,” Gabriel replied. “You might look into investing some -- our sort needs to think longer-term than most, and heavens knows, accruing interest is most certainly in one’s favor. I might recommend my banker, Parkinson & Co.,” he added. “I’m not certain about the minimum they would require for purposes of investment, but they are rather good at catering to unique needs. At the very least, it’d be worth making an inquiry, and you can feel free to tell them you’re acquainted with me -- it might open a few doors.”
Sipping his sherry, Samuel nodded. “I will make an inquiry then. I’m always one to make sure I’m well-prepared for a rainy day.” Then leaned back a little in his seat, letting himself relax. “How have you been faring, Gabriel? Busy? You’ve missed quite the times at the theatre.” Samuel winked.
“Oh, you know me, I’ll circle back round to the theater sooner or later,” Gabriel replied, with a laugh. While he and Caspian were no end of discreet, Samuel was a canny lad, and had no doubt picked up on their pull towards one another.
“And yes, you might say I’ve been burning the midnight oil of late -- you’ve heard, of course, of the recent incidents in your old neck of the woods,” Gabriel replied, mildly. “I’ve been keeping an eye. Your mother appears to be in her usual spirits despite the recent goings-on.”
He knew it was a touchy subject, that Samuel didn’t get along particularly well with his mother, but he figured it was good for the lad to know he was keeping an eye, and that while she was still her usual delightful self, she was safe.
“Of course,” Samuel smiled. The young Incubus was quite perceptive and Caspian was so easy to read.
“Yes, I have. Such horrible events. I happened upon one of the incidents once the constables had arrived.” Samuel spoke, his expression darkening then growing bitter at the mention of his mother. Then Samuel smiled.
“Good, thank you for being so gracious to look in on her,” he added and generously sipped his sherry.
“You let me know if you hear anything?” Gabriel asked. “And don’t fret. I’ll keep checking in on her.” Better me than you, he thought, as he downed his own glass.
Mrs Montgomery was, to put it kindly, a piece of work. But while they weren’t friendly, and, he suspected, never would be, she was one of their own, and the Demons of London looked out for one another.
After all, very few otherwise would.
“I will. I have a few friends that still live in the area. I visit them from time to time. No fretting on my part.” Samuel smiled and finished off his sherry.
“In other news, I sadly missed out on a sky party. Did you go?”
“Leah and I were there,” Gabriel replied. “The Baroness Balmoral was rather daring, with divided tartan skirts so she could climb up into the airship -- I’ve a feeling they’ll be all the fashion in a few months. She sang quite beautifully, as did Mac, and the airship itself was quite a sight. Have you ever ridden in one? Quite spacious, and if one didn’t look over the edge, one could hardly tell. The damndest thing, really.”
“I’ve been thinking about investing in airships,” he added. “That company in particular. Modern Prometheus. Their Captain Curtis was most charming, which didn’t hurt.”
“Oh? Indeed? Mmm, I did once, I think a few years ago with my benefactor. Quite a thing, yes.” Samuel replied, turning green just slightly. His first time on an airship had him a little height-sick for a good half-hour. But thankfully, his benefactor had alleviated his anxiety.
“That never hurts. Let me know how your investment seems the first few months.”
Gabriel noticed the slight look of hesitancy, and he laughed good-naturedly, reaching over to clap a friendly hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “The good news is, one doesn’t have to ride the damn things to invest in them. But they do appear to have a foothold, and the long-lived of us have to think well into the future.”
He gave Samuel’s shoulder a squeeze. “I hope you’re otherwise doing well. You look rather well-fed if I do say so myself.”
Samuel brightened, smiling to shrug off the discomfort from his only airship ride. Gently, he reached up to slide his palm over Gabriel’s knuckles. “Truly a blessing then. Perhaps next month I look into it.”
“I could say the same about you. I almost see a radiance about you. I am well. Not even a whisper of suspicion or nosy folk.” Samuel spoke, squeezing his friend’s hand in return.
“Good,” Gabriel replied, hand briefly cupping Samuel’s cheek before returning to his drink. “And yes,” he added, with a grin, “you might say I’m in clover at the moment. There’s a pair of Mer who’ve each got me wrapped around their respective little fingers, and Mercy, I adore them both to distraction. And there’s a sweet young poet, who’s all Byron and languid glances, and a dancer I find rather intense, but quite lovely. And my usual odds and ends,” he added, with a laugh.
He knew Sam could sort out one of the Mer easily enough, of course, but he also knew his secret was safe with his fellow demon.
Leaning into Gabriel’s hand, Sam smiled. “So much clover then. You must be near hibernation after such.” He laughed. “I am quite happy for you.” Secrets were well-kept between demons. And yet Sam had a few beyond his dealings that would send his mentor into a tizzy. Better not stoke that inferno.
“What can I say?” Gabriel replied with a laugh, “they have no complaints, and neither do I. I’m rather fond of each of them, for different reasons -- we’ll see how long it lasts, but right now, it’s wonderful.”