That Butler, Cooking
A/N: I thought I would write a one-shot about Sebastian's and Ciel's early days together, and I thought I would make it about the difficulties Sebastian had in learning about human food. enjoy!
It was the second night of my service to my latest master, Earl Ciel Phantomhive. The first full day of my service had run smoothly, more or less; I had rebuilt the manor, located Tanaka, and served and protected the master while he settled into this new phase of his life. I'd noticed that he was a rather quiet child during the day and the only time I noticed him losing his equanimity was when Madame Red burst into the sitting room, insisting on seeing him. While she visited, I did not leave the master's side, as he'd requested. He would never admit it to me, anyone else, or to himself, but he felt safer when I was around. Even though he would be the first to deny it, he still felt fragile and unsettled due to his lately-escaped captivity, and he drew comfort from having his protector at his side.
I saw him to bed with a cup of tea that Tanaka promised would help him rest and once he'd fallen asleep, I indulged myself for a few minutes by watching him sleep. When his body was relaxed in sleep and when his eyes closed and his breathing evened, he looked quite enticing. He was enticing, tempting, and supremely captivating. It was rare that a human's physical body reflected his or her soul, but Ciel Phantomhive's soul showed in every inch of his mortal body. Even though he was surrounded by darkness, his soul remained pure and unsullied. Such a combination was impossible to resist.
I could not stay by his side all night, however. The meals that day had exposed a difficulty that I had not considered when I'd agreed to be his butler. I had never had to procure, prepare, or serve human food before, and now it was something I was to be doing every day! It didn't end with my having to know how to heat something and put it on a plate, either. I had to know about nebulous human things like flavors, tastes, proper combinations, preferences, cuisines…Food was food, wasn't it? Did it matter how it was prepared?
I'd learned otherwise at lunch that day. I'd managed to make the food look like the picture in the book I'd glanced through, but my master had ended up throwing the plate in my face, stating that while it looked all right, taste was a different matter. While I'd managed to salvage that situation after a second try and I'd coasted by on supper by preparing a soup from leftovers and some toasted cheese bread, the situation could not continue like this. I had to know as much as possible about preparing meals and as quickly as I could.
When dealing with humans, it often aided me to avail myself of books that they wrote and published. It gave me an insight into their thinking: what they considered important, what they considered best to do, and so on, were all topics that were written about copiously and published. There had to be some books here in the library that would tell me how to cook.
One of my tasks that I'd had to handle today was to re-stock the Phantomhive library. A call to Hatchards and to a few other bookshops and we had our library. (Even I could do nothing about books burned to ash, so we'd had to purchase new copies.) Since I'd shelved everything that evening after supper, I knew where each book had been placed. I started running over titles in my mind as I left my master's room, wondering which ones would be the most helpful…
Twenty minutes later I had my selections and I carted them off to the kitchen. I took notes on how to procure groceries, how to tell if items were fresh, what were good prices for different items, and so on. Once I'd gathered enough information on that topic, I turned to the sections of each book where they discussed how to prepare food. Some approached it on a "by method" approach, others first discussed the nutritive values of food and then stated which methods would benefit which ingredients, while others just gave a list of recipes, entitled "How to Cook Trout," "How to Cook Lobsters," etc. Over the next two hours I worked my way through "The Cook's Own Book," "Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management," "The Modern Cook," "The London Art of Cookery and Domestic Housekeeper's Complete Assistant," and Eliza Acton's "Modern Cookery." At the end of all that research, I had to wonder just what on earth these writers were talking about. They all agreed that food and its preparation were important, but none of them agreed on which methods were best! Discouraged, I stared at a recipe for something called Beef Rissoles.
Chop finely a pound of lean tender beef, and a quarter of a pound of beef suet; pound them in a marble mortar; mix with it a quarter of a pound of grated bread, a little onion, and a head of garlick bruised; season with salt and pepper; bind it with three eggs well beaten; make it up into small cakes, fry them of a light brown, then stew them in gravy for fifteen or twenty minutes.
Once again, I had to wonder just what the book was trying to tell me. I'd learned in my reading what lean and tender beef looked like, but this was my first time seeing the word "suet." What on earth was it? Something to do with beef, surely, but what? A marble mortar...did we have one of those? More to the point, what was it? Why would one want bruised garlic? Wouldn't fresh and unbruised be better? How did one make this mixture into small cakes? What shape should they be? What was the point of frying them if one was only going to stew them in gravy later?
"Sebastian?"
I spun around on my stool to stare at Mr. Tanaka. "Mr. Tanaka?"
"What are you doing up so late? It's just past one in the morning."
"Research," I said bleakly, glaring at the books in front of me as I turned back to them. "You saw what happened at lunch and the difficulties I had with supper, right?"
"Oh, yes," he agreed, remembering. "I was surprised to hear that the young master had thrown his plate at you. He'd never done such a thing before..."
"He's been through a great deal in a very short time," I reminded Tanaka. "It's only common sense to expect some less than desirable behavior."
"I suppose so," Tanaka conceded, approaching the counter where I had the books. "You're trying to read through all of these?"
"They seemed the best place to start," I muttered.
"Wait here a moment," Tanaka told me.
I didn't wait a moment but several minutes. I could hear Tanaka going up stairs, down the hall to his room, and then he was on his way back down after rummaging in a drawer. He came back to the kitchen with a triumphant smile and holding a leather-bound journal.
"A little smoky and a bit burnt on the edges, but you can still read it," he said happily, holding the book out to me. "This is the book that I inherited from the man who trained me to be a butler. His mother had been a very good cook for a duke and in this book she wrote down everything she knew. "
Interested, I took the book and examined it. The cover had not been done any favors in the fire, but Tanaka was right, the book could still be read. I opened it to the first page and began to read.
It is not possible for anyone to live without knowing how to cook. A cook can be called truly great if he or she knows how to cook well. She sounded like a sensible woman. I flipped through the book and smiled at the way it was organized. She covered how a kitchen should be organized, the most basic tools that could be used to accomplish most things, the different cooking techniques, how to avoid food spoilage and poisioning, how to cook a variety of menus for breakfast, lunch, tea, supper, how to handle special occasions and multi-course dinner parties, how to use seasonings, how to use foods economically and avoid waste…there was a wealth of information here and all of it was perfectly understandable!
"This is wonderful," I said, finishing my survey of the book. "Thank you, Mr. Tanaka!"
While I'd been busy turning pages (I'd had to turn them slowly since Tanaka believed I was a human), Mr. Tanaka had been busy with pen, ink, and paper. "You are welcome, Sebastian," he told me. "I've made up a list of recipes in that book that you should try to master first. They're ones that the young master has enjoyed in the past."
If I'd been human, I would have hugged him. Not only did I have information I could actually use, I'd been given a starting point as well. Perhaps seeing his favorite foods would encourage the young master's appetite and help him feel assured he was safe. "Thank you again! Mr. Tanaka, you've saved my life!"
He chuckled. "I've just saved your spare tailcoats from thrown plates. That's all." He wished me good night, admonished me not to stay up too late, and then headed off to his bed. For a moment after he was gone, I marveled anew at how good Tanaka was. If the master's soul was pure light, then Tanaka's was deep, soothing music. He'd been supplanted by me as butler and pushed into the largely empty role of house steward, but he held no grudge against me. Rather than a grudge, he sought to help me. Most humans would have been resentful, but he was not. I would have to make sure that I returned the good turn he'd done me. I settled down to read through my new treasure, examined the recipes on the list that Tanaka had made for me, and then I began to really work.
The next morning began as the young master had ordered. I woke him with a cup of tea, helped him dress, made the bed, and then went back downstairs to await him at the dining room table. For breakfast that morning I'd prepared several of the recipes from Tanaka's list: shirred eggs, scones, mint and walnut salad, and hot chocolate. My master stared at the spread on the table and then glanced at me.
"Where did this come from?" he asked.
"I prepared it, young master," I told him.
He looked at me again and then looked back at the table. "Will it taste all right?"
The first dish I'd produced at lunch yesterday must have been truly awful for him to have asked such a question. "I think so, young master." How could I convince him? Oh, yes! "Mr. Tanaka said everything tasted wonderful when he had his breakfast a little while ago."
It had been the right thing to say. He sat down, ready to be served, and he ate with a hearty appetite. When he took a bite of a buttered scone he actually smiled!
"Does your breakfast meet with your approval, young master?"
"It's acceptable," he said after swallowing his current mouthful. "Actually, it's delicious. Well done, Sebastian."
It was rare, very, very rare for any human master to praise me. Most masters did not have the capacity for praise of a servant, which meant that their soul would lack a sweet dimension of flavor that most demons found delectable. Since Earl Ciel Phantomhive had this capacity, then his soul would be a literal feast. My mouth watered.
"You were up too late last night," he said quietly, glancing at Tanaka, where he was tidying up the china cabinet. "Your eyes are red."
It was his subtle way of letting me know that my eyes were shining with demon light. "I shall make sure to retire a little earlier tonight, my lord."
"See that you do."
He had second helpings of everything and a third scone. The empty plate at the end of the meal was a testament to how much my cooking had improved.
"I need to talk to you about something, Sebastian," my master said as he rose from his seat. "Come to the study."
I followed him and once we were in the study he flopped into the large chair behind the desk. "Sebastian, we might have difficulties."
"Difficulties, sir?"
He nodded. "I am the master of the house and your master, but I am still a child. No matter how much I wish it otherwise, that's the truth of it. There are a large number of people out there who feel that children should not be solely under the care of servants if they no longer have parents of their own. Since I am still a child, you will have to see to my care so that no outsider will find anything to complain about. Do you understand?"
"Proper meals?" I guessed.
"Proper meals, proper sleep, a schedule to follow," he elaborated. "You'll have to wake me in the morning and see me to bed at night so that I get the rest I need. You'll have to make sure that each meal I have is nutritious and well-prepared. You'll also have to arrange for tutors so I can continue with my lessons and you'll have to keep track of my appointments and schedule so I can complete my work in a timely manner. Do you understand?"
I smiled. I'd known from the beginning that I would enjoy serving him and it was proving true. "You need me to watch after you."
"I need you to take care of me much the way a human adult would take care of a child," he corrected. "Now do you understand?"
I bowed. "Yes, my lord." Oh, I would enjoy taking care of him. Spending all that time watching after him would be wonderful...and a great deal of fun! He was unlike any master I'd ever served, so serving him would be quite diverting. I knew that children saw the world differently from the way adults did, and my master's experiences would lead him to see the world in a way quite unlike a child's, but not like an adult's, either. His unique viewpoint would be part of the motivations for the things he did and said, which meant that they would be intriguing, to say the least. I was about to ask his leave to go when something occurred to me. "Young master, I've thought of something."
I had his attention. "What is it?"
"You are my master, and I have to follow your orders," I reminded him. "What if you order me to allow you to do something that is not good for you?"
He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow. "I don't quite follow you."
I thought quickly for an example. "Say I prepare something that would be good for you, but you do not wish to eat it," I stated. "If you order me to take it away from the table, then I have to obey you."
He nodded and from the grim look on his face I could tell that I'd picked something that was not the best example. "If I do not wish to eat something, then I won't," he told me. "I hate being forced to eat things I don't like."
The vehemence in his voice surprised me. He wouldn't feel so strongly if this were just due to being made to eat his vegetables when he was younger. "Young master?" Oh, this definitely was something more than it appeared to be. He'd become pale and his shoulders were hunched. "Young master?"
"They would do that," he said, his teeth clenched.
The loathing in his voice told me that he was not speaking of his parents. "They" could only be his captors, and for him to try to throttle his emotions, the way he was trying to do now, was not good. This was a festering wound that would have to be lanced in order for healing to begin. It would be very difficult for him, but healing the wound would help him more than he knew. I would have to tread carefully with this. "They, young master? Your captors? Why would they do that?"
"I don't like thinking about why," he snapped. "The food they brought me...it always tasted funny, and then I would feel sleepy and strange...I know things happened to me when I slept after eating that food, and after a while I stopped eating. For a while they didn't bring me anything, but when they brought something at last, I refused to eat it. They let me refuse twice, but then the person who brought my food came back with two men to help him. They...they held me down and forced food down my throat." He was shaking now and all color had fled from his face. "I kept choking on it, but they wouldn't stop. The whole time they fed me like that, they kept telling me that good little boys would eat what they were given and only bad little boys were fed like this. If I continued being bad, then it would get worse..."
"And did it?" I asked quietly. This was difficult for him, yes, but it needed to happen...It amazed me that he'd been able to eat anything at all if that was what had happened to him in regards to food during his captivity. I was even more amazed that he wanted to eat anything!
"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I refused to eat again, and then they brought a doctor with them. The man stank of carbolic...they held me down and he shoved a tube into my nose and down my throat...I could feel it going all the way down to my stomach...That was how they fed me from then on. After the first feeding I wanted to tell them that I would be good and eat what I was given on my own...but I didn't..."
"And why not?" I prompted gently.
"Because I refused to be a frightened child!" he said, getting to his feet and beginning to pace. "I wasn't going to let them frighten or humiliate me into doing what they wanted!"
"And you did not," I said, affirming his conviction.
"Of course I didn't!" he growled. "What do you take me for, Sebastian? They enjoyed frightening me, they liked hurting me...I wasn't going to give them that pleasure! I was going to make them pay!"
"And you did," I said, smiling and allowing my eyes to glow. The tone of my voice made him stop and look at me. I knew just what to say. "You did, young master. Not only did you gain your revenge, you gained a powerful servant and protector, didn't you? No one will ever be able to do that to you again..."
He stood up straighter. I could see the tension draining from him and I knew that I'd said what he needed to hear. "That's right. Thank you for reminding me, Sebastian."
"No trouble at all, young master," I said. "Now, since you are the master of the house and there is no mistress as of yet, shall I ask your approval for menus and the like?"
He gave me a look, clearly annoyed. No longer struggling with emotions too large for his body to contain, but just annoyed. "You're the butler, Sebastian. That's part of your job. If you make something I don't want, I'll be sure to tell you. Now, you know what you need to do, so go do it."
I smiled and bowed once more. "Yes, my lord." I did know what to do. Such an experience with food might mean that he would have difficulties with food and eating in the future, so I would have to make sure that his mealtimes were pleasant and the food he was served was appetizing. After several such positive experiences, his fear and nervousness regarding food and having to eat things he didn't like would fade, and that would only do his health, physical and mental, good. Improved mental and physical health would be good for my master, and as his butler, naturally I wished only the best for him.
If my master was to continue with his lessons, then I would have to arrange for teachers for him. I considered the problem while I made preparations for lunch and tidied up. The pot au feu I'd made up was put into the oven to simmer into succulence while I did the necessary work into locating teachers. I called three separate agencies and arranged to have five highly recommended candidates come to the house that afternoon. I began my other work and was deep in the clerical work Tanaka had explained to me only that morning before breakfast when the tradesman's bell rang. I went to the servant's entrance and opened it to see a young man in brown tweed.
"Yes?"
"Is this the Phantomhive manor, sir?" he asked, rummaging in the messenger bag he carried.
"It is," I confirmed. "What can I do for you?"
"A message from the Funtom Company, sir." He held out a telegram. I took it and asked him to wait before taking the message to my master.
"What is it?" he asked, looking up from the book he held as I entered the study.
"A message, sir," I said, handing it to him. "From Funtom."
He took it, read it, and set it aside before taking out a pencil and paper. He jotted down a quick message and handed it to me. "We'll be having three guests for tea this afternoon, Sebastian."
Oh, dear. Tea. I hadn't learned any tea recipes yet. I would have to hurry. "Very good, sir."
I took the message down to the messenger, tipped him, and saw him on his way before hurrying to the library to read up on the appropriate education for a young man of the noble classes. It took me half an hour to locate the needed information. My young master could expect instruction in music, drawing and painting, Latin, Greek, French, and possibly another language, mathematics, geometry, algebra, penmanship, composition, grammar, elocution and rhetoric, literature, history, geography, the sciences (botany, geology, physics, chemistry, natural history, and astronomy), economics, civics, religious education (according to the book, all youngsters had to have a basic knowledge of the Bible), dancing, fencing, archery, and horseback riding, as well as whatever else he cared to study on his own. All of that would be possible for a demon to learn in very little time, perhaps a period of two months if he were diligent, but how long would it take for a human child to learn all of this? Years, most likely.
For the first time, I appreciated the magnitude of the work teachers took upon themselves. Well, now that I knew what teachers should know, I would be able to hire the appropriate ones. They began to arrive shortly after lunch and I interviewed them all, and in the end I settled on three to begin with. Madame Bright and Madame Rodkin were both well-educated ladies who would be able to handle most of the master's academics. Madame O'Ray would be his dance instructor, and a fencing and riding instructor could wait until later. Once their services were secured, I took all three of them to meet the young master. He greeted them courteously, told them he looked forward to working with them, and then I saw the ladies out. They would be coming back the following Monday to begin teaching.
"Well done, Sebastian," my master said after I returned to the study. "They'll be good teachers."
I was relieved to hear such an opinion. "Yes, sir. I think so, too."
"How are preparations for tea coming?"
Oh. Right. Tea. "Nothing to worry about, young master. May I ask who will be coming?"
"Three of Funtom's board of directors," he said. "They're coming to discuss Funtom's future since my predecessor has died. I have a strong feeling that I'll be pressured to sell out."
"Why is that, young master?"
"The entire board probably feels that I can't handle running a company at my age," he said, sounding extremely miffed. "They must think I'm a simpleton. I'm sure you and I will convince them otherwise."
I understood. "Of course, my lord. With your permission, I shall finish the tea preparations."
"On your way."
I returned to the kitchen, fighting down a sense of panic. I had only a few hours before tea, a great deal of baking to see to, and did I mention only a few hours? Dear, oh, dear. I took out Tanaka's book, turned to the section detailing teas, and began to read. All of the recipes that my master preferred did not seem too difficult, but I would have to be quick...
A few hours of intense labor and I'd managed to pull off the fastest tea anyone had ever created. I'd made scones with clotted cream and the master's preferred lemon curd, watercress and ham sandwiches, canapes, crumpets, and berry tea cakes. The last had caused me no end of difficulty since the recipe wasn't the clearest.
Nice little tea-cakes to be baked in muffin rings are made of one cup of sugar, two eggs, one and a half cups of milk, one heaping teaspoonful of baking powder, a piece of butter the size of an egg and flour sufficient to make a stiff batter. In this batter stir a pint bowl of fruit - any fresh are nice - or canned berries with the juice poured off. Serve while warm and they are a dainty addition to the tea-table. Eaten with butter.
If I ever found the author of that particular recipe, there would be a reckoning. Just as bad was the recipe for crumpets!
Mix together thoroughly while dry one quart of sifted flour, loosely measured, two heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder and a little salt; then add two tablespoonfuls of melted butter and sweet milk enough to make a thin dough. Bake quickly in muffin-rings or patty-pans.
Now, what in the name of all things on earth were patty-pans? Who on earth came up with that name? Did the author did not think about the poor readers trying to decipher his or her recipes? Fortunately, we did have muffin rings, and I was able to serve perfectly golden crumpets at tea. With Darjeeling tea, the master was perfectly happy to sit back with his predecessor's business associates and talk. I was seeing to the preparations for dinner when the bell rang. I pulled on my coat, changed my gloves, and headed back upstairs.
"Yes, young master?" I asked after knocking on the parlor door and entering.
"These gentlemen will be staying to dinner, Sebastian," he said darkly, looking furious.
If I were human, I would have begun panicking. As it was, I was rather concerned. "Very good, young master."
I hurried back to the kitchen, hurriedly revising the menu. These men would expect an exceptional dinner since they were dining at the Phantomhive manor, and I could not fall short of their expectations. After looking at Mr. Tanaka's book and double-checking the available items in the pantry, I settled on Mock Turtle Soup to begin, Veal Cutlets with Sauteed Mushrooms, Potatoes a la Duchesse, Gingered Carrots, and for dessert, a Strawberry Angel Cake with tea for the young master and wine for the gentlemen. I put the soup together and left it to simmer, began to braise the cutlets, peeled potatoes and carrots, chopped the vegetables, and put the strawberries to soak. Then it was time to sautee mushrooms, press and bake the potatoes, put the carrots in to bake, and to chop the strawberries. I finished and plated it all with five minutes to spare. I put the cloth on the table, set out the tableware, arranged a vase of fresh flowers for a centerpiece, and headed to the study to announce that dinner was ready.
"Lead the way, Sebastian," my master said, getting up from his chair. His three guests rose also and followed us to the dinner table. I'd decided to serve the dinner a la russe and doing so allowed me to hear the greater part of the conversation during the dinner.
"You must understand, Lord Phantomhive, you are far too young to handle such a large business," one of them was saying as I served the soup. "You won't be ready to handle such things until you're well in your twenties."
"I understand your concerns," my master said. "However, my father's will left the company and all its holdings to me. No executor was named to see to the business for me, so I shall see to it myself."
The three men exchanged panicked glances as I took my post behind the master's chair.
"But, Lord Phantomhive, how can you expect to handle the business when you are a child?" the second man wanted to know. "You are not able to sign legal contracts, enter business deals..."
"I can if I have a legal representative to do those things in my place," my master retorted.
All three of the men gaped at him.
"I've spoken to my father's lawyer and his solicitor." The young master smiled. "They've informed me that any man of sound mind can be appointed my legal representative for the business."
"And you have...chosen...a representative?"
"Of course," my master assured them. "Due to his long service with my family, I've chosen Tanaka to be my representative in Funtom matters. He's familiar with the business and the projects my father had in the works and he's eminently trustworthy. Any objections?"
None of them looked as if they dared to object.
"That's settled, then."
The rest of the meal was like that and there was plenty of discussion about Funtom and the latest business news. It wasn't until my master saw the men off that I had a chance to speak with my master.
"I doubt very much that they will let it go at that, young master," I said as I followed him upstairs. It was time for him to go bed and I could tell that he was tired.
"I'd be surprised if they let it go," he answered, dropping to sit on the side of his bed. "They'll probably speak to a lawyer or some such about my living alone and try to make trouble that way. Either that, or they'll try to make trouble in the business, making it so difficult that I'll give it up. They could do either of those things or both."
'I have a feeling that they've underestimated the young master," I said. I could already see him thinking deeply about the problem, and when he smiled, I knew it.
"They don't know what they've let themselves in for," he said, getting to his feet. "Come on. It's time for my bath."
We received confirmation of the young master's suspicions the next morning. An archbishop called Stillwell from London arrived the next day, saying that several people had been to see him and they were all concerned about his welfare.
"Those same people wouldn't be some of the board from Funtom, would they, your grace?" my master asked as he and the archbishop took seats in the morning room.
"They have only your best interests in mind, Earl Phantomhive," Archbishop Stillwell said.
"They have their business interests in mind," my master snapped. "What they want is to have me out of the way so they can use the business as they wish. The business plans they showed me at our last meeting would not only change Funtom past all recognition, it would bankrupt and break the company apart. Each of them would be able to walk away from the bankruptcy with their portfolios intact and I would be left with the remains of Funtom."
"My lord, these men are your father's business associates!" Archbishop said, sounding shocked. "Your father's friends! They would not do such a thing to the son of their friend!"
"They wouldn't think twice," my master corrected. "Right now, I'm standing the way of the plans for their profits. If they could get away with it, they wouldn't hesitate to remove me."
Archbishop Stillwell sighed. "My lord, I know that your recent experience has showed you the uglier side of humanity, but you must not allow it to color your perceptions of all people. If you do that, then you will have no friends, no love, or happiness in your life."
My master's eyes hardened. "So, my disappearance has been the talk of London?" he said coldly. "I've told only Tanaka about that, and of course, Sebastian knows, as does my father's lawyer and solicitor. I wonder who's been talking?"
The archbishop looked uncomfortable. "My lord, I..."
"Or it's possible that news of my captivity and my parents' deaths were shared with all of London by someone who might have known about what had happened to us," my master interrupted. "I will be quite interested in finding this person and speaking with him."
His Grace stared at my young master, his expression deeply sorrowful. "My lord, do you think that someone might have known what was going to happen to your family and did nothing to stop it?"
"What else would make sense?"
"That would be...unforgivable, my lord."
The archbishop's feelings were genuine. I knew that my master would prefer to think of the bishop as a man on a level with his captors, but the archbishop was better than that. He was genuinely concerned for my young master and tried his best to think the best of his fellow man. A somewhat naive approach to take, considering the world he lived in, but this man of religion was the genuine article. He was a good man and he knew nothing about what had happened to the Phantomhives beyond what he'd been told in London. I caught my master's eye and shook my head, conveying my knowledge.
"It doesn't matter," my master told the bishop. "Nothing I can do will undo it or bring them back or make them happy. All I can do now is live my life as best I can."
The archbishop left after another few minutes of desultory conversation and refusing all refreshments. My master sat back in his chair and sighed. "Sebastian?"
"Yes, young master?"
"I wonder who it is in London who knows about what happened to my family," he said. "I'm most interested in finding out. Aren't you?"
The tone of voice told me that his resolve had only gained strength during his conversation with the archbishop. "Quite, my lord."
"Sebastian?"
"Yes, my lord?"
"I'd like something sweet to eat with lunch."
I felt myself smile. "Yes, my lord."
Things were peaceful for a few weeks. The master had lessons with his governesses, saw to his business concerns, and I saw to my business as butler. There were a few tiny bumps in the road, but I handled them with all the aplomb of a master butler. The young master and I were still getting used to one another and I knew he was slowly coming to terms with his new life. There were times when he woke with nightmares, and other times when fear overwhelmed him and paralyzed him so that he could not move, but my presence usually reassured him. As time went by, he began having whole nights where he slept peacefully. In the mornings, he did not speak of his difficult night hours and I did not allude to them. It was not necessary. I would wake him with a cup of tea, help him dress, make his bed, and then serve his breakfast. Our routines in the morning never varied, nor did they during the rest of the day. The routine, I knew, helped reassure him that he was safe. When he felt safe, then his soul would gain quite a delicious flavor that I wanted to cultivate as much as possible.
After breakfast, the master would take a short walk and then begin his lessons with his teachers. During the day while I saw to my duties I often passed the library and the music room to check up on his progress. As his butler, it was part of my duties to make sure that the master was progressing in his studies. The master and his governesses would break for a light lunch and then they would go back to work until the middle of the afternoon. He would see them on their way and then he would work on Funtom business until tea time. After tea, he would finish up what else he had to do before dinner, and after dinner he would use the time to relax, usually by reading or strolling in the garden before heading to bed.
The letter came in the fifth week. I'd given him the mail in the afternoon and went to my office, but just as soon as I got there the bell was ringing and I could hear him calling me.
I rushed back to the study. "Yes, young master? What is it?"
"Those damned business men," he snarled, pacing. "They've managed to convince some London parish officials to check up on me. The letter says that they want to make sure that I'm being taken care of properly. Can you believe this?"
Parishes existed all over England to see to the spiritual and public welfare. Parishes would also run orphanages and homes for the elderly and family relief societies. In London, it was considered quite a feather in one's political cap to be seen engaged in public service, and it was likely that the parish where the wealthiest in London attended religious services would be the one to check up on him. They were individuals with quite a bit of power in London, so we would have to tread carefully, and he knew it. In fact, he was furious. I'd never seen him like this. He was so angry that I was certain that in another moment he would do himself some kind of harm.
"When are they coming, young master?"
"Tomorrow night," he growled. "I'm tempted to..." He stopped and glared at me. "You're a demon, so you wouldn't have human emotions, but doesn't this intrusion into my privacy mean anything to you?"
I bowed. "Yes, my lord. It means a great deal to me. The best that we can do at the moment is convince these public officials that Tanaka and I are taking excellent care of you and that there would be no reason for them to interfere further."
He stared at me. "Sebastian?"
"I am ready to meet the challenge, young master, if you are," I said. "Do you think we should offer them dinner?"
"Dinner is fine," he said shortly, dropping into his chair behind the desk. "The letter said they'll be here at five."
"I do not know much about parish officials," I confessed. "Is there anything you would suggest I serve?"
A book was thrown at me.
"You're the butler, so do your job!" he shouted. "Out!"
I thought about the problem while I made my way back to the kitchen and I felt a smile start. Oh, yes. This dinner tomorrow night would be quite interesting, indeed.
The next afternoon, it took me a mere ten minutes to put together a menu for the dinner. For this dinner I was planning a simple family-style meal rather than an opulent dinner-party menu. Seeing a simple dinner would most likely reassure the parish officials that the young master was not being over-indulged by his servants and that we were seeing to his health as best as possible. To start, we would have a mushroom and wild rice soup, sauteed chicken breasts with parsley potatoes and spinach salad. For dessert, there would be a vanilla apple cream cake with drinks.
By this point, I'd learned how to make any recipe and to improve on it, if possible. My master enjoyed his meals and I'd seen that he was especially partial to the sweets and desserts I'd made. It was interesting to see his mood improve each time he had something sweet. It was actually rather amusing to watch his face change when he ate what I produced from the kitchen. Tonight would prove no different. I got to work: cleaning and chopping vegetables, trimming the chicken, sauteeing it, cleaning the salad greens, tossing them, and, of course, making dessert.
I saw to the seating arrangements, the china, the silver, the flowers for the centerpiece, and the table linen. By four all was prepared and the master was pacing in the parlor, waiting for his unwelcome guests. He whipped around as I entered the parlor.
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, my lord. Dinner shall be ready by five-thirty and all is ready for your guests this evening."
"They have no right to poke their noses into my life," he muttered. "The most maddening thing is that I'll have to be polite, or they'll think that I need an adult to take care of me."
"I'm sure you'll do perfectly, young master." The sound of a carriage rolling up drew our attention. "It looks like they're here."
"Go let them in," my master ordered.
I did not think much of our guests. Two women and a rotund little man alighted from the carriage. Mrs. Mathis, Mrs. Carmichael, and Mr. Wallis were all officious and condescending to the young master. More than once I saw him grit his teeth, but he controlled himself and remained polite. He and I had discussed his strategy for the night, and we'd agreed that it would be best if they thought him a normal child who was still mourning the deaths of his parents but had come to terms with their deaths.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," the young master said politely. "The letter received said that you'd like to see where I'm living, so I'll show you around the manor. Please follow me."
I could hear them moving all over the house and I could hear my master informing which room was which. I'd decorated each room according the master's instructions and I was pleased to hear the ladies' compliments on the lovely "atmosphere" I'd created. I knew that pleasant and congenial surroundings often raised the spirits of humans, and good decorating could make the difference on whether someone ill recuperated or not.
"And this is the game room," my master said. I could hear him shifting the stacked board games on their shelf. "We have time for a short game before dinner. Will you play with me?"
I could hear the game going on. It was a simple board game where one advanced along the path at the whim of a numbered teetotum, and Mr. Wallis won just as I arrived to announce that dinner was ready.
The master led the way downstairs and in to dinner, inquiring politely about their trip from London. They took their seats and I served dinner while the young master and his guests talked. He was quite a good actor for his age and I could tell that he was convincing them that he was a normal boy who'd lost his parents recently.
"I do miss them," he said in response to Mrs. Carmichael's question. "But...I'm sure they wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life being sad that they're dead."
"That's a very good stand to take, young man," Mr. Wallis said.
My master grit his teeth at Mr. Wallis' tone, but he stayed silent and gave a polite smile. All went well until it came time for dessert. I served the guests their dessert, but I put none in front of the master. All he was given was a glass of milk.
"Sebastian?" he said, surprised that I'd not brought him his serving.
"You didn't remember our agreement, did you, young master?" I said chidingly. "You'll only have dessert if you eat all of your supper, and you did not eat your spinach salad."
The look he gave me was not that of a furious master but that of a child who wasn't getting his dessert. "Sebastian!"
"You made an agreement?" Mrs. Mathis said, surprised.
"Sebastian agreed to make desserts if I eat all of my supper each day," he said, sounding sulky. "Sebastian, I don't like spinach!"
"I am sticking to our agreement, young master," I insisted. "Remember, it was your idea."
All three adults stared at him.
"I know I'm still young, so I need someone to watch after me like my parents would. I hired Sebastian, explained the situation, and he's agreed to do it, no matter how upset I get with him."
All three of them looked quite impressed. My master asked me to return his salad, he ate it, and I brought out his dessert. The adults looked pleased that the our bargain had worked so well and talk turned to other topics. The rest of the evening went well, with games and talk in the parlor for a while and at nine o'clock I reminded the young master that it would soon be time for bed.
"Thank you, Sebastian," he said, turning from the building game he and the adults were playing. "I wish you could stay longer, but it is getting late."
"We've enjoyed our visit, Lord Phantomhive," Mr. Mathis said. "We look forward to seeing you again, and thank you for the pleasant evening."
"It is I who should thank all of you," my master answered.
As we saw the guests on their way, my master looked up and smiled at me. "Well done, Sebastian."
"Thank you, sir."
"I think I'd like another slice of that cake before bed."
"I'll bring you some, but on the condition that you drink a glass of milk to make up for the milk you didn't drink at dinner."
"Are you trying to start an argument?"
"Of course not, young master. However, I think it would be good for you if you did."
He looked at me and nodded. "All right. I'll drink it if it's in a cup of tea."
"It's a bargain, young master."
