Dearest Mr Baines,
You will be glad to hear that I have finally found employment in a Grand Estate that goes by the name of Pemberly. It consists of 50-acres, a 46-roomed manor house plus a servant's quarter, not to mention a small zoo-like collection of animals, courtesy of the Bennett kids. It sounds like precisely a place in need of some goodly Butler-ing. My pay is good, two weeks of leave per year and I get a tricorne hat, as part of my uniform.
Yours,
Ned Darcy
Dear Ned,
I don't know what they teach you in Land Economy, but you write like an estate agent trying to sell a haystack to a gullible couple. I was hoping for better after two years at my academy. Butlers are discreet. They do not gloat.
Yours,
Mr Baines
In the following days, Ned had signed a contract, was given several uniform fittings at Ede and Ravenscrofts (tricorne hat included), and was also thoughtfully supplied a map of the estate and manor by the estate manager, a Mr. Cashflow.
On his last day of freedom, Ned donned on a grey Fedora hat and decided a visit to his old Director of Studies was in order. Professor Limpwig had a habit of writing in the Cambridge Tab under the pseudonym of Maggie Hatcher about the success of his past protégés, in hopes of promoting Land Economy and provoking students to change tripos.
Ned walked through the glutted market square, which was full of people brandishing DSLRs. No wonder the city council spent most of its budget repairing the buildings from photo-bleaching. He quickly flitted past them, employing his butler-flexibility skill and triumphantly emerged from Rose Crescent unscathed. From there, it was a short walk to his old college, which was right opposite Heffers. Unfortunately, the front of Trinity was also crowded.
By some unexplained law, around half of these DSLR-wielding enthusiasts would be some sort of breakaway group from the lot in Market Square. They were a lot more aggressive, however, and were energetically haggling the porters for reduced entry fee (though one or two of them will instead be busy chronicling this on their cameras).
"…But my sister will be studying here in October!" Ned heard a voice, a light lilting feminine kind that earth's gravitational pull had less effect on. It floated over the cacophony.
"I'm sorry Miss, no tourists allowed to visit student accommodations. College regulations" Ned recognized the Head Porter's voice even before he saw the Bowler Hat of Authority.
"What if I paid you a hundred quid?" That light lilting voice hedged. Ned tried to slip through the crowd; the Head Porter could be insanely scary when provoked.
"No Miss…It is not done. Porters do not take monetary bribes." There was a pause. "Blueberry cheesecakes are acceptable, however."
The reply stopped Ned in the middle of his Butler-flexibility technique. It probably left him looking like an acrobat suddenly dipped in liquid nitrogen. That woman, whoever it was, had just successfully bribed the Head Porter.
That woman turned out to be a very pretty blonde, hair all curly and yellow like a suntanned daffodil. She wore glasses, but that didn't conceal her sparkling green eyes as much as frame them, like a fine painting. Currently, she was unleashing a devastating smile at the Head Porter.
"Oh thank you! I always knew the Porters of St John's were always better than Trinitarian ones. Like they always say, 'I'd rather be at St John's than Oxford?' Right?"
Uh oh, Darcy noticed the Head Porter's slightly indulgent smile becoming downright dangerous. Silly woman, didn't she realize of the rivalry between the two colleges? And to mistaken one for another…that was practically a death sentence.
Deciding to honour the age-old tradition of men rescuing beautiful damsels in danger, Ned slipped across, and gathered an armful of squirming Woman.
"There you are, Sister dear!" He put on a jolly tone, "You ran away without taking your medication! You know that people often think you a lunatic without those frog pills"
With alarming speed, Ned whisked her away, the head porter shouting "Hey! Edward Darcy! Come back here, you young scamp!" amidst the whirlwind of DSLRs frenetically capturing the moment, for fifteen likes on facebook.
St John's college wasn't too far away, so Ned deposited her there.
"St John's College" He pointed at the green and yellow sign tacked onto the fence. The woman, instead of hurling insults about frog pills that Ned was half-expecting to dodge, beamed up at him. He felt his insides slightly liquefying. He mentally willed his Butler training to kick in so that his face remained impassive.
"Thank you! You know, saving my neck and all." The woman made a slicing motion across her neck. "That was some quick thinking there. I'm really here to help my sister out though. You see, she is rather…particular about rooms. Mum wants the new butler to do it, but he doesn't start till tomorrow and I don't really want a stranger to sort it out for her."
"Let's see whether I can help you out?" Ned asked, eager to spend more time with her. "I used to study here myself. Trinity, I'm afraid."
"Aha! That explains why that Porter guy knew your name!"
"Yes. I also applied to be a Porter with them."
"Man, if you were one, I bet there'll be even more tourists flocking over to your college!"
"It has been somewhat hinted at me during the interview. In anycase, I am going to be a butler."
"Woo. You! A Butler?" The woman laughed, sun glinting off the frames of her glasses. "Well, I think you'll turn out to be a spiffing one." She said, after lowering her glasses and mock-surveyed him like a prize horse.
"Rescuing silly maidens. Tick. Being perpetually helpful. Tick. Able to quickly mask your true personality. Tick. But please, no need to do the latter around me."
Ned flashed her a smile, exactly the way Mr Baines had instructed them not to do so. Pooh, Mr Baines! He needn't be a butler till 8 am next morning.
"Sorry Miss. Butler training and all."
"Oh, stop that! I'm April. April Bennett."
April Bennett held out her hand. Ned took it, while the inner cogwheels of his mind turned, raising alarm.
"Would you happen to be related, by any chance, to a Mrs. Squigella Bennett?"
April was looking oddly at him. "Yes, I think I might've spent eight and a half months in her womb."
Ned looked at her despairingly. What would Mr Baines say? Hitting on your future employer's daughter was bad form. It was almost like gardeners hitting on the bonsai trees they look after.
"Edward?" April prompted, expecting a response. "Ned" he corrected her. He paused. "No, no. Darcy."
"Oooh! Darcy sounds so romantic! Like Mr. Darcy, in Mum's favourite book!"
"Well" Ned replied grimly. "You mustn't romanticize my name. I'm going to be your butler."
A/N: Hi there all of you who have got this far! It's my first time writing a fan fiction, although I've been reading forever. I hope you'll have as much fun reading it, as I have writing it. Now, some things of note -
Cambridge Tab: An actual, student-run tabloid newspaper. It is notorious for several articles, including a spoof about Nick Griffin (BNP head) getting kicked out.
Porter: A bit like an all-jobs security man. He doesn't handle student's baggages at the start of term, though. He can be a student's close confidante, or a student's bane. Usually male, and sport bowler hats, in some colleges.
Trinity vs John's: The University of Cambridge is divided into 30-something colleges. A college is a bit like a dorm where you spend your student life in. Out of the lot, Trinity and John's is probably the most famous, and the most loaded. They also happen to have somewhat of a rivalry, which I will be exploiting. Which leads to the banter 'I'd rather be at oxford than st. john's', which, April gets wrong. The two colleges are situated right next to each other.
Oxford vs Cambridge: In the US you get Ivy league rivalry. In the UK you get Oxbridge rivalry. Cantabs often refer to Oxford as 'The Other Place', whilst Oxford has a more unflattering name for Cambridge (some variant of Scum-bag Cambridge).
Lastly, thank you for all of those who have dropped a review! Suggestions welcomed! You guys are awesome possums. :)