Chapter Text
“Joey, you’ve been invited to dine with Mister Crawford.”
He blinked. “Do we know Mister Crawford?” He asked.
“Everybody knows Mister Crawford,” his mother answered, looking over her letters. “You were introduced a few years ago at his card evening.”
“Oh, that Mister Crawford.” He nodded. “Dinner?” Mr Crawford rarely held dinner parties.
“Dinner and cards,” she agreed. “I’ll make sure your new suit is pressed. I’m sure we can make your waistcoat work again.”
When he got back to his room, Eliza was giggling again. “The Footman came again.”
“Oh.” He looked away, feeling his face heat. He just quietly held out a hand, and Eliza pressed another letter into it with a giggle.
He could barely wait until she was out of the room before he was breaking the plain wax seal and unfolding the page desperately. From within the folded pages, a violet tumbled into his hand. Surprised, he picked it up, a smile overcoming his face.
So that was why he had been invited to dine with Mr Crawford. It was all Mr Kaiba’s arrangement. Smiling, he tucked the violet into his pocketbook, and the letter went under the window seat along with the first.
Until Monday then, and he wasn’t sure Mr Kaiba would leave his thoughts for more than five minutes the rest of the week.
~*~
Mr Crawford’s dinner was a merry crush. Filled with young people with their escorts, more of an evening party than a dinner. Their host even hinted they may have some dancing later.
Joseph found his friend Mr Diesel Kane, and stood with him in the corner. He searched above the heads for the tall figure of Mr Kaiba. He had promised to be here.
Eventually he found him. He was in an opposite corner with Mr Crawford, and surrounded by a number of young people being introduced.
“Don’t tell me you’re buying into that whole farce, Joey,” Mr Kane said.
“Hm?” He asked.
“Mr Kaiba’s upward climb,” Kane continued. “Seems he’s being introduced to every eligible person in the city. Bachelor or bachelorette.”
Joseph kept quiet. He knew it was unfashionable to show a preference equal, but he himself was the same.
And even if Mr Kaiba was… eligible. Joseph had letters. But he would wait.
They were eventually led to the dining room. He found himself all the way down the other end of the table, and could barely eat for the anticipation in his stomach.
They separated — gentlemen for port, ladies to the drawing room. Jou excused himself from both and found a small balcony to refresh himself.
The cold night air brought doubt. Mr Kaiba had made no signs, no overtures. It was as if he wasn’t even looking for him there.
Forlorn, he took his pocketbook from his jacket and removed the dried violet bloom. Turning it over in his fingers. The scent had faded, but the colour was preserved.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned his head. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted Mr Kaiba through the balcony doors, haloed in candlelight.
The gentleman stepped out, and a hesitant smile crossed his face. He looked to the violet bloom in Joseph’s hand — and silently removed his handkerchief to unfold. Within was another bloom, the one Joseph himself had picked in the park.
Joseph beamed back. How could he have doubted?
“We haven’t been introduced,” Mr Kaiba said softly.
He blushed and offered his bare hand forward. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Mr Kaiba clasped his hand, and Joseph felt a spark travel from the brush of their skin. He bit his lip and lowered his face. Overcome.
“What do you play?” Mr Kaiba asked, his voice low and husky.
Dazed, Joseph could only murmur in confusion.
“At cards,” he continued. “What will you sit down to tonight?”
“Vingt-et-un,” he answered, his voice at a whisper.
“I will try to join you.” He lowered Joseph’s hand and tucked away his violet bloom. “I must get back before they notice my absence.”
He could only nod and watch the other gentleman walk away.