Chapter 2

With a fresh replacement uniform on that didn't hint of expiring milk, Claude's insides have calmed from their catatonic state in the kitchen. As a butler of his word, he does clean not only his attire but the nasty mess that caused his change of clothes.

Claude traverses the long stretches of corridors and doorways to the expansive gardens outdoors. He allows himself a secret smile at his concocting plan. Play with his prey, waltz with the beat of reciprocation as he tests Permelia.

The warm sun touches all those in its path as Claude emerges from the darkened interior of the mansion. His grin drains from his face as he must play his part. He grimaces slightly. The humidity is a tad much for his tastes, but weather is weather. He can turn gold into midnight blue, but the natural elements is admittedly out of his capacity to alter.

"Claude!" In the distance where the rows of blooming gardenias line a wide section of the plot, Hannah waves him over. Permelia is kneeled near her at some shrubbery, digging away.

He starts to approach them, releasing a pent-up shiver of expectation at delight to come. When he arrives at their spot, he is himself again. They greet him.

Permelia wears frustration in the form of a deep frown as she digs in the dirt. Claude raises an inquiring eyebrow at her. Gardening tools surround the ground around her. Barely a quarter of a single row of flowers is planted. Four rows more and the bed is done. Claude can't understand the problem. This is an hour's work, maximum.

"Does the heat distress you, Claude?" Hannah asks him, who stands a watchful distance behind her keep. "Please return inside if you are uncomfortable."

"Well, this heat is a bitch." The grumble comes from Permelia. She looks worn and already has a visible gloss of sweat on her face. Her hair has been tied back. She has a long way to completion. At her crawling rate, Permelia won't be done for at least two, possibly three hours.

"No foul language, Permelia. How would Master Alois react if he heard you?" Hannah's chastise is clear.

"He's too busy stuffing his face full of those new jelly treats and whatnot we got in to listen," Permelia grumbles, uncouth and not at all ladylike.

"Today his treat is cake," Claude can't help but correct her, seeing as he served Alois.

Permelia shakes her head to ward off their talking. "Fine, sorry. I'm not in the best mood when I'm too hot and have 60 million dirt slots to fill in only one hour. I'll never finish!"

Hannah hangs her head in sympathy as she tells Permelia, "I'm sorry to impose the gardening to you. I still need to adjust to my other eye and I'm afraid lining up flowers proves more difficult than I initially thought. I can bring you whatever materials you need. I will send word to the master of your need for more time to complete this planting. He will understand. Don't worry."

Permelia glances at Hannah, at the fresh bandage covering her once flawless face. Fear flashes in Permelia's eyes before she blinks and busies herself in the dirt again.

As the older woman placates the younger one, Claude studies them in interest; Hannah, guilty over inconveniencing Permelia, and Permelia as she struggles to plant pot after pot of gardenias in the hot weather.

Then understanding clicks in his brain. Of course Permelia will have difficulty expediting everything in an hour. Claude is comparing times to demonic standards when Permelia certainly is not.

Well, Claude takes his chance. "Shall I assist you?"

The two ladies' shocked heads swivel towards him, especially Hannah. Claude likens her expression as one when he has been asked to do cartwheels for a circus show. Voluntarily. He ignores Hannah's stare.

"It's all right. We'll be fine." Hannah replies for them. Defensively.

Claude undoes the buttons on his tailcoat and removes the stifling thing. Permelia has her full attention on him when he does so. "I insist. Permelia should have help for labor such as this."

"Won't you get dirty?" Permelia skeptically raises her eyebrows at seeing the pristine white of his collared shirt.

"What is laundry for, hmm?" Claude speaks rhetorically, catching himself by surprise. He is not one for aimless chatter. Claude picks up a trowel and passes it to Permelia, brushing lightly against her arm to hand it over. "This moves the dirt around easier."

"T-thank you." Permelia accepts his advice.

"Do you require something to drink? You may get thirsty staying out in the sun for so long." Claude is brimming with helpful tips.

Permelia nods in agreement. "Sounds good. I forgot to bring some out."

Permelia continues to plant seeds. Claude sees Hannah approach them with an unsettled look, clearly picking him out of the two to interrogate as she glares at him and not Permelia. He wonders what has bothered her so.

Author's note: Chapter 3 awaits...