Lord Hilary Exeter

Socialite and Dabbler




Lord Hilary really has no idea where the bloody hell he is. One moment, he was on a train to Glasgow with a couple of bottles of Moët. The next, he was… well, he presumes he got off too early, then got chucked off another train in the middle of nowhere and then he seems to recall a taxi. What the hell is this place? At least it has a bar. Small mercies.

Although he think of himself as a dilettante, he is, in reality, an unfocused brat. As the third eldest in his family, there were no particular expectations on his shoulders. Hence, believing his family name will see him through, he is content to drift between bars, women and card games.

Nevertheless, he has found time to study. Admittedly, he mainly studied so that you could argue with his brothers. When Marmaduke went into medicine, he was damned if he would let him Marmy beat him. He trained for a year, then dropped out, thereby gaining enough ammunition to shoot his brother’s arguments down. In a similar way, he learned about architecture to argue with Peregrine. No, hang on, archaeology, that was it. Damned confusing.

When his younger brother became a priest, he took a different tack: with no desire to master theological arguments, he read every blasphemous tract he could find. Although he does not win arguments with Jack, he stalls those disputes by annoying him beyond belief.

All things considered, there is little to his life other than his family name. And since the sun is over the yardarm, it is time for a drink.

Lord Hilary Exeter

The Final Revelation Dreadnought