Eleanora was having significant difficulties. It took an hour to get to Phantomhive, and that was if one rode in a carriage. She couldn't afford a cab every night, so she always had to leave Mrs. Standfield early and walk the two hours, in the dark, to Phantomhive, and then walk another two hours, in the dark, back to the Standfields. She wasn't getting enough time to sleep.
Then there was the fact that the Earl had decided to throw another big ball, despite the fact that the last one he had resulted in him almost getting murdered. And as the other servants were more of a hazard than a help, that meant that Eleanora was really necessary. She worked all night at Phantomhive, helping to prepare for this ball.
And then Mrs. Standfield, upon hearing that the Earl of Phantomhive was having a party, also decided to have one. So that meant that every day she was working full-time at the Standfields, polishing silver, cleaning the house, looking up recipes to use for the big day.
Her days and her nights were absolutely occupied. All her thoughts went into these two parties:
"Buy the chicken, polish the banisters, wash the floors, look up spices, go to the tailor's, do the laundry, iron the tablecloths…"
And then there was all of her regular duties as a maid. Make meals, take care of masters and mistresses, always be polite and don't fall asleep on the job.
The butler was coolly ignorant of her. Eleanora didn't know what he did at night, because he didn't seem to sleep, but whenever she entered Phantomhive every night, there would be a list of things for her to do on the kitchen table. She vaguely wondered if he was still unhappy about the whole dog-thing. It wasn't her fault; she hadn't been the one to suggest the dog. She didn't know that he hated dogs that much! But it didn't matter; she had far more pressing matters to attend to than whether or not the damned butler liked her or not.
She was getting very, very tired. Before, she had managed to catch some sleep at mealtimes or have a half-hour to spare in the very early mornings, but with the parties fast approaching their deadlines, there wasn't even enough time for that. Mrs. Standfield seemed to have forgotten that servants needed to eat and got angry whenever she saw them sneaking a bit of bread. The lists on the kitchen table grew longer and longer every night.
In the daytime, the Phantomhive servants were preoccupied with keeping the manor up and running with normal work: making meals, washing laundry, the usual. They were all doing as best as they could because Sebastian had not been happy these past couple of weeks. Sebastian, meanwhile, was assisting with the ball. He discussed invitations with the young Master and a couple of times tried to teach him how to dance, a practice which he very quickly gave up. He gave almost no thought to Eleanora because they never saw each other. During the nights he would be sent out to investigate the murders of nobles. The young Master was especially concerned about the information that the reapers had inadvertently given them: all of the dead nobles were missing their souls.
Whenever he did think about her, Sebastian thought that the whole thing was terribly convenient. Leave a list of things he hadn't been able to do on the kitchen table; come back in the morning; everything would be done! It was like that fairy-tale story about the naked perverts who would break into a house and do everything in the night…Or it went something like that; he wasn't much familiar with human stories.
One night he came home earlier than usual and began wandering around the manor, thinking if there was something he had to do. He absentmindedly peeked into the ballroom as he passed, paused, and then entered.
Eleanora was lying on the floor in a dead faint.
"Wonderful," he thought. "Just right when we need it."
He kneeled down next to her and wondered what to do when women fainted. He had read somewhere that fainting was usually due to too-tight corsets, and the best thing to do was to loosen them. But then again, Eleanora probably wouldn't be appreciative of him tearing her dress and fiddling with her undergarments.
He had heard of smelling salts, but he didn't know where they were and didn't want to find them. Then there was pouring cold water and slapping the cheeks. He didn't want to make the floor all wet, so he decided to do the cheek thing.
"Miss Black," he said, gently slapping on her cheeks. "Miss Black. Wake up. You've fainted. Wake up, Miss Black."
Eleanora groaned; her eyes fluttered open and then closed again.
"Miss Black," he said in a firmer voice. He began hitting her a bit harder. "Miss Black, wake up."
She groaned again and her lips began to move. He bent down to hear better:
"Choose the fine wine, clean the windows, repair the dresses, dust the china, buy new crystal glasses, beat the carpets…"
He had never told Eleanora to beat the carpets or repair the dresses. Where was she getting that from? Probably from that middle-class family. Figures that they would also want to throw a party.
He began patting her cheeks again.
"Miss Black—Miss Black—Miss Black—Miss Black—Wake up!"
Eleanora's eyes blearily opened. She slowly looked around and then focused on Sebastian's face.
"What…?" she murmured.
"You've fainted," Sebastian said. "Get up."
She stood up with Sebastian's assistance. She had to lean against him for a time, breathing hard.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked her.
"Fine…" she sighed.
"Loosen your corset," he told her and then left.
She had been able to finish the jobs and had started the long, weary trek back to London. Sebastian called the Standfields in the middle of the day to ask if she had gotten home alright.
They said that she had and then he hung up. There, he had done his duty. She was fine. She had probably just fallen asleep. There was no cause for alarm. She would be just fine.