Cradling my master lured him into deep, seductive sleep. I wanted him to forget that damned question. It forced me to admit to a truth that had upended aspects of me I had once considered immutable.

I wished him to work out some conclusion on his own, consider that I was holding myself back so as not to hurt him. My restraint was presented as a personal need and I hoped the young master interpreted this as my will to keep myself composed in my comely form.

With holiday past, everyone settled into their usual routines, myself included. Anyone else would not have perceived any change in my condition, but I felt it as a weight in the pit of my stomach, a nervousness that crept through my limbs and a fog that rose in my mind. Acting in the capacity of a butler was not a strain for me and yet I felt it took more focus and increased determination to accomplish the tasks that I had once considered effortless.

After the events in my quarters, Ciel appeared to flourish with a new sense of purpose. It was an uncharacteristic eagerness and he plunged into work with increased determination and vigour. Typically it took great effort for him to rise in the morning and start the day, but this time he was urgent to carry on his work that he had set aside for the holiday. He practiced his violin after having not set foot in the music room for weeks. The melodies that floated down the hall into the foyer were just as spry and eager as he was.

Having received an extensive report from Mr. Hameldon, he spent an entire Thursday poring over account statements, inventory reports, and comparing these with his own record books. I wheeled the tea trolley into his study that late afternoon: lemon tarts with sugar glaze, and a pomegranate rooibos tea with brandy.

"There must be something of real interest in that report if you have managed to stay immersed in your accounts, young master." Mr. Hameldon's report was a stack of papers on the desk, records dating back to the previous quarter.

"And I'm sick of looking at numbers right now." He uttered a "thank you" as I set the tea and tart on the corner of the desk. "But yes, I found something that concerns me."

"Oh?"

"Yes, please sit, Sebastian, so I do not have to look up while I am talking to you." He gestured to the chair across his desk as he sipped from his tea cup. I obliged, gracious that my master wished to have my company despite his pressing work load. "I do not believe Mr. Hameldon is aware of the severity of the situation in Le Havre."

"Is this preferable?"

"At the moment, yes, because right now I need him to concern himself with the factory and nothing else. Along with these reports, he also informed me of inadequate machinery, failing ventilation as well as workers telling him of injuries due to poor work conditions. Mr. Hameldon has not found any incident reports from the past six months, nor have work conditions been improved or repaired.

"What I find most concerning about this situation is that what Mr. Hameldon has described to me, I have on record that Mr. Martel assured me these potential hazards were taken care of last fall, third quarter. I have receipts from him. There is even a record of it, in the nominal accounts.

"While this expense was noted in this account, I see no mention of it anywhere else. So I must ask the question, where did that money go if not to repairs that were never made?"

I cradled my chin, observing the boy's irritation. "That is a strange discovery, young master. But if there is a discrepancy in the accounts, how did you not know of this sooner?"

"At the end of the third quarter, all the books were balanced, but I found an inconsistency. There was an additional credit added to the factory account to make it appear as though profits from the holiday season reimbursed the expense of the repairs to the factory. But this is not consistent with sales reports."

I nodded my head. "So you're suggesting the credit to the factory came from some other source than what you were told."

"Yes." He set down his tea cup and leaned forward. "I think Martel has been embezzling money from my factory. And he's been very smart to cover his tracks. If he had the resources to keep me in the dark about it, it must be something worth hiding."

"Would you like me to make short work of the matter, young master?"

Ciel stared at me for a moment and then picked up his tea cup again. "I considered it, but I think I'd prefer you to stay here and not make a mess of things. I don't want Mr. Hameldon to suspect foul play. I can't let him know just severe this situation is. I want him to continue working under the assumption that Mr. Martel is just an idiot that doesn't know how to manage a factory, and I don't need you to run in and cause a scene."

"I can be discreet if you need me to be," I crooned.

He cut me a scathing look. "Whenever have you been discreet, Sebastian? You were hardly discreet in Dublin. I'm still having trouble with that factory because of the massive work turnover that occurred because of you. You scared the majority of my work force out of that factory because of your antics, and left someone else to clean it up."

I grinned. "Yes, but it was effective. You told me to find your money and do whatever it takes. That is precisely what I did."

"I just don't need the headache." He took a bite of his tart that muffled his words as he changed the subject. "Speaking of which, I need you to read this and tell me if it is rubbish." He handed me a letter written with his finest penmanship. He reserved his most careful writing for only a few persons.

2nd April 1891

My dear Lizzie,

I still feel terrible guilt for the events of the previous weekend. It has opened my eyes to problems I have been ignoring for some time and I concluded that not only do I hurt myself by not addressing them, I hurt others as well. This is intolerable, for you should never have to be a victim to my burdens. On the other hand, I do not want to deceive you, and say that a life with me will be bright and happy and easy, because if that is what you want, I am doomed to forever disappoint you. If you are willing to take me as I am, then I must do my best to be a most noble husband for you.

On a lighter note, I have plans to visit Le Havre in a few weeks. It is pleasant this time of year and while I will be mostly preoccupied with business matters, I reasoned why not make something of a holiday of it, before the season starts and we will be stuck in London. I think we are both in need of time away from our respective estates and I would appreciate the pleasure of your company. If you inform your father that you have an interest in my factory, I am sure he would have no objections to allowing you and Paula to journey with me.

Also, I have packaged you this gift that I had intended to give you some time ago. I am embarrassed to admit that it slipped my mind, with work stresses and deadlines. I hope this becomes a new favourite for you, and perhaps you will consider wearing it to the ball, or perhaps you will find any occasion to wear it. I hope you have been practicing our song for the event. I have just started practicing, but I am confident that I will have a good handle on the piece in a month's time of diligent practice.

My warmest regards,

Ciel

I set the letter on the desk while making little effort to stifle a chuckle. Ciel folded his arms. "Well?"

"Oh my lord, what an awful letter."

"Yes, by all means, tell me how you really feel!" A firm gesticulation accented his sarcastic remark. He sighed and took another sip of tea. "Well, what is wrong with it?"

"Do you honestly believe that this letter holds your 'warmest regards?' The tone of this letter seems rather tepid to me."

"Well, at least I'm being honest."

"Do you assume that honesty and tact are mutually exclusive?" I picked up the letter once more. "Do not tell her that life with you will be miserable. Is that really necessary? You say you are willing to be a most 'noble husband,' whatever you mean by that I can not be sure, yet warning her of a life of misery sounds as though you are attempting to push her away. This is all after you apologize for your hurtful actions last week."

I looked up from the letter to see him turned away from me, shoulders hunched and wearing the most adorable pout. I asked, "So... when were you going to tell me about this trip to Le Havre?"

"Well, I'm telling you now, I suppose."

"Ah. Be that as it may, it is a sweet sentiment to invite her along. Even if your purpose for visiting is business, you do not need to imply that takes priority over her. And what made you remember the perfume?"

"Yesterday, when I was playing the violin." He shifted in his seat as he caught my amused expression. "More tea, please."

I obliged, moving to his side of the desk. "I suggest you tell her you would go to any length to appease her, that having her accompany you to Le Havre will make an unbearable business trip a delightful getaway... and that the gift is something you thought on a whim. Goodness, do not tell the young lady you forgot to give her a present."

Ciel drummed his fingers on the desk in irritation at my lecture. "Sebastian, I've resigned to the reality of my relationship with Lizzie. She will grow to realize this as a terrible mistake and resent me for everything. Better it to be honest now than to pile on more lies, which is what you are suggesting."

"I am not suggesting you lie, young master. Just sweeten your words."

"Yes, and you would be an expert on the subject." He held the cup just to his lips, suspended with thought. "She doesn't deserve me, you know. She would be better matched with someone who will give her the kind of love she's seeking. I can give her luxurious gifts and beautiful places... and tepid emotions."

"Young master, please do not tell me this still weighs heavy on you."

"No. I think I just feel a little sad for her, is all." I was baffled by Ciel's last comment. He must have seen my brow furrow and added, "Of course you wouldn't understand."

"Perhaps you care to illuminate?"

He rose from his chair to face me on the other side of the desk. He leaned against the arm rests of the chair, face close to mine. "It would be one thing if I were some heartless bastard who was incapable of giving a damn for anyone. Sometimes I wish I could be that person. Then I could look her in the eye and say I cannot return her affections because I feel nothing for no one and she would not take it personally.

"But the truth is that while I care for her, there will never be a passion between me and her. I tried, but I cannot supply her that. But you very well know it is not because I am incapable of producing that emotion." I responded to his breath on my face by pushing back into my seat, wanting to shy away from his immobilizing gaze.

The strangest aspect to this situation was I sensed no malicious intent from him. Ciel had no desire to maintain a cruel control over me and yet in the five years of our bond his will had never been stronger and my power never more subjugated. His command on me was not borne from a place of authority and power, but from some hidden origin that I lacked the faculties to overthrow.

The rumbling nervousness returned in the pit of my stomach once more, the same sensation I felt when his fingers feathered down my sides as he fell to dreamless sleep in my grasp that other evening. Did he sense my defencelessness? Was it captured in my features and was that what prompted him to take hold of my chin?

A thought was whispered in my back of my mind, All my passion is reserved for you. My everything... His touch was scalding and despite the ache in my arms I gripped his tweed jacket to meet stinging lips that could deliver sweet words like poison. His command was an internal chant, Yes, yes, take it, it's yours...

I thought back to how not so long ago my intention was to corrupt. How depraved must a soul be to desire this despicable coition? Now that this was actual, Ciel compelled by his own thirst for me, I realized my intention was fulfilled, and that all that was left was my own burning need. I just needed him, and it hurt. Fulfilling his command to take him, including this force I could not begin to comprehend, could only result in my debilitation. It was maddening.

"Sebastian... it has been a challenge to focus on my work when I cannot stop thinking about you," he whispered in my ear. I knew that I had occupied his thoughts, for the tingling in my hand had been relentless. "So come to my quarters tonight."

My voice quivered, "Yes, my lord."

He caressed my cheek, pulling the fringe from my face. "It's not an order. It's an invitation."

"Then I will be there all the same." I motioned to him to permit me to stand and he backed away. Before I could take a step, tight arms embraced me, and he buryied his face in my coat. As he pressed into my thigh, he sighed into the fabric of my shirt and I felt something inside me wither.

I so wanted to cradle his head to my chest, but instead heard myself saying, "Young master... there is work to be done."

"Right." He backed away, tugging at his jacket. In a flurry he rushed to his seat, arranging papers in a mock attempt to bring organization to the day's work. He knocked a stack of reports into line and proclaimed, "We have business in the city tomorrow: preparations to make for our trip, a visit to the bank. Check to see my passport is still valid. Also, check for whatever supplies we need for the pantry. You can place whatever orders necessary." He pulled his letter to him. "I have to rewrite this letter, and it will need to be posted tomorrow. If it's done in London, she'll receive it that much sooner." He pulled fresh stationary from the desk and bent over it with ink pen. "I am finished with my tea."

I took this as a sign of dismissal. He would rather send me away than have me insist I leave. I placed empty china on the trolley and wheeled it to the door. Because the scratching of pen on paper had ceased, I knew he had lifted his head to watch me depart. The longer I stood at the closed exit the more acute his gaze felt.

The scratching continued. "Sebastian, please leave my study if you have such pressing work."

Mey-Rin popped her spectacled head through the door as I was taking inventory of the pantry. She had been determined to corner me with questions about the young master so in response I had piled the work load on her over the past few days. Her questioning was not out of concern for him, but rather concern for her curiosity over speculative events that Monday.

Her speculations would be accurate.

"I trust your work is complete." I did not look up from my clipboard, but dreaded that she had finally trapped me and I had no solid excuse to vacate the pantry.

"Yes, sir, the linens are folded, the windows of the east wing were cleaned today, Finnian offered to beat out the rugs in the front parlour, and I just finished cleaning and putting away today's serve ware." She leaned against the doorpost. "It's almost nine o' clock and you're still hard at work Sebastian."

"We have a trip into the city tomorrow, and I must place an order for supplies."

She studied me under the gaze of those wide glasses. "Seems like work that could be done earlier in the day." She wore that knowing smirk. "But I know the young master can be a handful sometimes." She giggled before continuing, "Can he be a mouthful as well?"

I set my clipboard on a shelf and turned to face her. She took a step back at my penetrating gaze. "Are you actively trying to irritate me?"

"Is it working?"

"The only thing I find irritating about your comments is the lack of respect you hold for your master."

"Oh Sebastian, that's not true at all!" Her arms wrapped around my waist and in boots she raised herself to whisper in my ear. "So I saw you carry the young master back to his quarters late the other night, and he didn't take dinner at all. I wonder… what did you do to him that made him so tired?"

Recalling the event, it was late in the night when I finally decided to carry the master back to his own quarters. He was so heavy in my grasp… I had never considered the weight of him, for carrying him had always been an effortless task. If she had seen us, it must have been a curious display. Not only did I trudge across the manor in bare feet, but also he was wrapped in my sheet for I did not care to wake him just to dress him.

What unsettled me most was I now knew Mey-Rin was continuing to spy. In addition, I had not even sensed her presence. She was a skilled scout, but it would have mattered little if my abilities of perception had been sharply focused.

Containing my fury was proving difficult as I clutched her shoulders. "He had a panic attack, Mey-Rin."

"But he is in better spirits now, and I wonder why that is?"

"Because the young master is resilient and no one can fault him for having a lapse in fortitude."

Her lips were on my neck. "Big fancy words… I could have a lapse in fortitude myself, and maybe you'll take me to your bed as well.

"A lapse in decorum is more like it." I pushed her from me. She was flustered from this shove and adjusted her glasses.

"That wasn't an issue before. Why are you being so mean, Sebastian?" Her eyes pleaded behind those scratched spectacles. "I know you did something to that boy, because no one has a break down like that and gets up the next day like nothing even happened. He's not trotting around like a spoiled little prince anymore. He's..."

"Carrying on the responsibilities of an Earl... as he should?"

"Oh it's more than that. I know that change when I see it, he looked right at me yesterday in the parlour and I saw it in his face. That kid was buggered. And I want details."

My eyebrows rose at the demand. "Oh? And you think I would give them freely?"

"So you did do it!"

Pinning her against the wall, my arm braced against her shoulders, both her wrists clasped in my other hand. "I see what you are trying for, so let me make myself perfectly clear. I will not take you again. We had our one-time tryst, and I told you, do not expect anything more than that. Were you expecting this to be regular, in exchange for your silence?"

She whispered. "I could tell."

"You are not innocent in this situation. You were caught spying. You responded to my advances. Also, I do not think you understand that you conceived that night, and I saved you from the shame of carrying that evidence." She looked down to hide her trembling lip. My voice softened. "I have spared you from any ill consequence that could have arisen from the whole thing. Keep your secret."

"Do you have no interest in me at all?" Her eyes sparkled from the tears about to fall. "You only did it to keep me in line, nothing more, huh?"

"Perhaps I need to say it one more time. My allegiance is to my master and no other."

She pushed against my hold on her. "But did you feel nothing for me? You enjoyed it, and you don't want another taste of it?"

What was I to say to that? She was enjoyable, the softness of a woman, and I was not the sort to turn down any opportunity for sex. But I could not crave her. A simple touch from her would not send me to a frenzy. She could not fill me with ravishment and leave me hungry for more.

I so could have taken him in the study during high tea. I could have laid him over that desk, ruck up the accounts and reports under his writhing back, ink blotched from his sweat and he would taste of lemon and turpitude. That pathetic letter could have been used to sop up the mess.

My face must have betrayed my thoughts. "You're thinking about him right now. Oh my God, Sebastian. Are you... blushing?" My grip on Mey-Rin loosened as I covered my face. "Admit it! You weren't looking at me with your face going all red like that." There was a heat in my ears, on the bridge of my nose, and it felt humiliating to be so exposed.

She laughed at me, a blatant jibe at my own pride and I could not stop the caustic words that issued from my grimace. "Alright Mey-Rin, yes, I was thinking about the young master. That evening he indeed gave himself to me… and I will have him again. I could taste of him a thousand times and not tire of it. Do you understand? I care not to have you again."

She crossed her arms. "Honestly? I could throw myself at you and you still wouldn't have me? Yet the very thought of young master leaves you with a reaction I had to work to get from you. Tell me, what does that scrawny little shit give you that's so much better than what I have given?"

The back of my hand collided with her face, glasses knocked to the stone floor. It was uncertain whether she cried out from the blow or the shock that I was so bold to strike her. I wanted to scream, how dare you, you insufferable twat, rip her to pieces and use her in ways she would have never considered. My vision turned red as Mey-Rin cowered, holding her swelling cheek.

"Learn to respect the young master." I uttered with even tone. "And I will not privilege you with the answer to that question."

Ciel's beckon rang through me like the soft clamour of a bell.

"Sebastian I'm sorry-" Mey-Rin scrambled to reach me, but I had already travelled the length of the kitchen.

"I am finished with this conversation. Do not make it worse for yourself."

Feeling the call of my master eased my frustration, and so I decided that supply count would have to wait until the early hours. An uppity maid would not be in the pantry to bother me, I reasoned, and I would have opportunity to complete my work if she were sulking in her own quarters.

Stalking up to the master's room with too much eagerness, I recalled how at one point I was so controlled with him, how my intentions were to incite some reaction in him, rather than rollick about for the sake of it. It was safe to say that I, like him, was beyond caring about control or domination.

I did not bother to knock. The room was alight with candles, warm from their flames and redolent of paraffin. Standing candelabras lined a path to the bed, where he laid stroking himself, coverlet thrown back to the foot of the bed. There was such a romantic reverence to the scene, that I should be kneel prone before some exquisite offering, but instead I began to disrobe, depositing my effects over a couch.

To see my hunger thrilled him, for he wriggled under his own touch, candlelight flickering eerie shadows over his oiled skin. The effect gave him such an ephemeral quality, penumbra wavering with the dance of light, where parts of him faded to the shadow only to spring to shining reality the next instant.

Placing my hands on him was my means to determine that he was indeed still corporeal, that this not some wretched illusion. He was so slick, oil and sweat, the room sultry. His hands pomaded over my shoulders, and I felt I was being dressed for some exalted occasion. I climbed over him, a palm reaching underneath his legs splayed before me to feel him dilated.

"Yes, I am so ready for you," Ciel groaned into my mouth as I confirmed it, fingers being pulled into an anointed orifice. How I desired to explore further, "But first, oh—" he pulled away from the intrusion, "I want to play a game with you."

"What sort of game?" He continued to trail his hands down my sides.

Candlelight glinted in mischievous eyes. "The sort that involves candle wax."

"Oh, you desire that treatment this evening?"

"No, actually, I desire to give that treatment to you."