The plan needed to orient and enact the party was composed of a long list of supplies and tasks to be accomplished in a rather tight amount of time. The kitchen inventory had to be checked and rechecked, the deliveries done in time, the produce and ingredients had to pass a thorough examination and have a certain degree of quality and the storing space cleared, cleaned and rearranged to fit all. It was just slightly different from the usual. Some special ingredients, larger quantities. Some bought and others requested from the surrounding fields. And some spices delivered from the townhouse to where the Indian duo had been successful booted out to once more.
Neglecting a duty was not the way of a great man the boyo said…
The invitations were the first piece that needed to be completed and forwarded and as there were some social aspects involved Mouser decided to consult an expert and then discuss the list of possible candidates with the boyo and Sebastian. As it happened fitting the requirements there were a lot of dandies, dilettantes, fashionables and Druitt. The last one would not be invited. Not even if her life depended on it. Well… maybe then but still Mouser felt that they would have to be very, very, very, very, very, Very, VERY desperate for such an event to occur. And to aggravate the supervision of the last odd job and because nothing was mentioned of it on the letter the Trancy household was not invited. It was a fancy form of low blow. Also it kept the trap open. If they wanted to continue the threats all they had to do was contact.
Charlotte had suggested, right on top of the list, Grimsby Keane and Irene Diaz as the cultural representation of England, giving their widespread fame and ability to sell out performances. Also Keane was known for his fashionable ways and modern views on theatre. And a pretty woman at a party, especially an opera singer, was always the right touch of slightly scandalous that every soirée needed. There was a third suggestion, made by Sebastian, more of a request to track him down and send an invitation. And seeing the man's social position he would have no reason to decline. A writer. Apparently the boyo still kept the 1887 Magazine the story had been first published in along with last summer's first book edition. Although it was not her first choice of reading entertainment Mouser had found herself immersed in the tale. It was an intricate and interesting piece of murder and mystery. The way the young man was talked about and presented himself also helped with the gathering's notion of the blooming society that was England. The other guests, apart from the imposed pair by the Monarch, were handpicked carefully according to the assignment demands and objectives referenced in the letter. If one read carefully between the lines. Businessmen and investors to impress the German man with the Industrial side of Great Britain.
After that was done they just had to wait for the confirmations. And do a bit of investigation on each of the guests. One could never be too careful.
But who would miss the chance?
From food, storage, and guests the list went on and on about the little things needed to clean, decorate and make the household worthy of the guest's eyes. It was a simple matter of extending the usual routine to the guestrooms and an increase in the laundry loads. And using Finny for lifting beds, rugs and any piece of furniture out of the way. Sebastian finessed the last details on any of the cleaning endeavours.
Pluto would be shooed away soon enough, relegated to the edges of the estate with strict patrolling orders. The pooch had developed a taste for those and Mouser suspected he had been munching away the occasional intruders with glee. The main house had suffered no direct attack in a while now. It could be argued how effective the dog was seeing it hadn't been of any use when the circus had attacked but, according to Finny, they had been hiding the pooch from Lady Elizabeth.
Mouser checked the chore list for the day and sighed, standing, stretching, organizing the latest paperwork to deliver downstairs. There was nothing for her to do at the moment because it was impossible to actually accomplish anything before the last deliveries were made. The household would be calm and just doing the usual routine for the next two days. Then it would be back to the preparation whirlwind.
They had the confirmations.
The menu was planned, the wines chosen and the rooms prepared and chosen both where guests were allowed and where they would be strictly forbidden.
According to the clock and schedule Sebastian should be in the butler room, balancing the household ledgers and creating a separate one for the party. The thief left the study making little noise, walking down the bright hallways. Well… as bright as they were going to get judging by the stormy looks of the outside world.
"Sebastian?" The knock was swift and short, rather unnecessary, the answer small and sharp, the door opening into a neat room occupied only by the demon sitting behind a desk, scribbling and counting. He barely looked up, determined to get as much work out of the way as possible. She slinked in, closing the door, locking it impishly, before walking towards the desk, placing the volumes she carried down.
"Place these on the shelves." Sebastian asked, pushing a couple of black bound books with dates inscribed on the spines. Mouser picked them up, tuning her back on him, looking for their appropriate place.
"Everything seems to be in order and moving along smoothly. For once." Mouser mentioned, hopping to slide the first volume into place. Fast-paced scribbling was occurring behind her, stopping suddenly, changing to the sound of pages being flipped, almost too quickly for any reading to be occurring.
"Yes. Soon enough all that will be needed is a swift education of the other servants on how to behave towards the guests." Sebastian stated, placing the new documents down. It was as if all evidence of his presence had vanished. Well all but his actual presence, a constant pressure in the edges of her senses.
"I used to like it when nobles threw parties." Mouser placed another book onto its place, one black tipped fingers sliding down the spine, accompanied by a wistful smile. "Perfect time to infiltrate and rob them in-between the hustle and bustle of the preparation and event. Just dress as a maid or page boy and you are overlooked." Another book was slid into its gap. "Or you can make as much noise as you want upstairs and no one will check." Actually servants were instructed to notice who was making the noise and report but to otherwise allow such occurrences to unfold.
"Then some defences need to be enhanced, just in case." Sebastian said, the chair hissing against floor and carpet.
"The reports have arrived. Lau was quite thorough. In any case if either of you feel there is a need to consult further with the Undertaker I have cleared a day." Mouser stopped with a sigh when his hands slid over her waist as the last of the ledgers was placed onto the shelf, the demon leaning against her, nipping her neck before his lips brushed a warm path to her ear, deft fingers undoing the buttons of her waistcoat, slipping it down, allowing it to fall to the floor and crumple, gloveless hands slipping under the shirt, beneath the undershirt, dragging it free from the pants, pulling her back against him, tasting the tang of tobacco, lemongrass and sugarcane. She reached up, digging her fingers through his hair, pulling the head down until the angle was just right.
A kiss stained by huger, the edges sharp by a fraying control and pressing need, the sinuous movements behind her makings his hands move sneakily on the skin just above, just beneath the edges of the trousers. Mouser allowed a small whimper to escape as she strained to not let go of the kiss, tiptoeing.
"I locked the door." She murmured softly when his hands snaked around her waist, lifting her without effort, carrying her towards the desk, placing the thief on the smooth top, making quick work of the shirt's buttons. The thief smiled, hiding a shiver of cold beneath the heath of his touch, the feverish desire that grew so easily. She beckoned him closer in acceptance, starting to return the favour, shoving his coat and waistcoat away before focusing on the buttons of the impeccably pressed dress shirt, following the revealed flesh with her lips, downwards, parting the fabric as she moved along, her fingers slipping further down, to the fabric's edge, returning the teasing torture that had made her belly flutter and senses flare.
Deftly the thief hopped down the desk and reversed their positions, sinking further down his torso, oven the tight stomach, nipping his hipbone as her nails played with the trousers' button and edge, playfully threatening to just tear it away. Sebastian grimaced, keeping control, focusing not only on the pleasure his little demoness could bring but also on not outright destroying the desk he was balanced against and not breaking her explorations by dragging her upwards and resuming the kiss, tearing away the remainder articles of cloth that stood in his way.
Mouser popped the first button open, pulling the trouser slightly down, ready to move on to the newly revealed area when one of the bells chimed. Both groaned and looked up, towards the neatly labelled board.
Kitchen.
The thief sank to her knees, sitting down, bringing her forehead in a frustrated nudge against Sebastian's leg.
The demon hissed and pulled her upright once more, once again against the desk, relishing on the surprised squeak she produced before falling backwards over the paperwork, arching by instinct, seeking him as he pulled her trousers out of the way, tangling them in the boots, the long and tortuous caress that followed having her in a purring fit, blushing, also trying to abstain from leaving claw marks on the wooden surface.
"Not now." Sebastian growled. Mouser mustered enough wit to chuckle and answer.
"Are you not being neglectful of you butler duties?" Sebastian's hand sneaked under her bloomers, ripping them away from her flesh, leaving gathers, stockings and belt untouched. She looked suddenly down, eyes widened. Sebastian smirked, nibbling a path from the neck that strained to keep eye contact to the stomach that twitched in answer, along with a blissful moan as his hand found her core, already searing hot and moist.
"I will consider this a success on your abilities as a corruptor." He whispered against her skin before ignoring the new chiming from the kitchen, claiming what he had been desiring.
Surprisingly nothing but their clothes had been knocked around. Mouser fidgeted for a bit, having forgotten the feeling and rules of how one wore pants without underwear, smoking quietly, mind kept in a nice haze, sitting on the chair, breathing hard in the aftermath. Sebastian was giving a show of putting his clothes back on as straight as they had been before. She was not going to make an effort of it until the thief reached their room. Hence the bundle of fabric at her feet and the current state of semi-nakedness. If one could consider undershirt and pants nude.
The demon approached, caressing her hair that had only had become slightly skewed amongst the activities, picking up something from one of the drawers.
"I have a request." He started in a much more composed tone. The fingers that were sneaking around her shoulders and neck were not though. It had been a nice interlude but he was still not fully… well… Mouser smiled. He gave her a small box wrapped in brown paper. "For the duration of the party I will need you to wear this at all times under the clothes." Mouser nodded, standing.
"I'll go see what caught fire this time. After, you know." She stated, still smiling despite the grave undertone he had given the request, as the demon straightened the reports she had delivered, the attention back on the upcoming social gathering. The mention of the torn and crumpled clothes dragged a smirk out of him though.