Ward of the White Worm

“Who are they, to think it would be such an honor?”

The old clock’s incessant ticking was the only other sound inside the room. The desk’s occupant held a pen in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. A letter remained open, the snobbishly elegant writing still perfectly clear, and his spectacles sat beside it reflecting the glint of the sunlight that draped over his chair and back like an unwanted heavy blanket.

He covered his eyes as if it would be enough to stifle the annoyance in his breast. This had apparently been the fifth letter the Greenes had sent, the other four he had asked Motzy to ensure were ‘lost’ in some way. He took some pleasure in knowing that they had used shilling post and had lost fifteen shilling. If he were pettier, such as the Hartwrights would be, he might even feel offended by the choice of such cheap postage.

But he did need to respond. Mail being ‘lost’ once or twice can be passed off as unlucky strokes of fate, but pushing onto five would suggest serious disdain on his part that would be horrifically disagreeable to be public about.

So with perhaps a more sluggish hand did Theodore begin to write his response. He wrote it as he wrote most of his letters. Short and curt. There was no need to have extra flourishing within it.

He gave a date and a time, then folded the letter in half, then folded it again, stamping it with his seal. Holding the letter he then briefly wondered if Mrs Greene would painstakingly peel off the wax seal to save it in her collection of mementos that she regularly displays to visitors. It struck him it was very possible he might end up having to look at the collection and see all of his seals and perhaps even his letters piled up within.

He laughed dryly at the thought as he set his finished letter back down to meet eyes staring down at him. They were cold and black, exhausted but with the slight curl that comes from hearing a really good joke.

“And how would you deal with this?” He spoke aloud, “you who would tell me it’s such a petty thing even as you yourself would make me stand in your place.”

The portrait of a pale woman did not answer of course, it remained still as any other portrait with only the slight hidden mirth in its eyes making it stand out. He often wondered why he kept it in his drawing room, hanging so close to his desk, but he had no answer. He never had an answer to the question whenever he asked it of himself.

Theodore stood up and held the letter in hand and he left the room, carefully closing the door behind him and going swiftly down the hall. He had time, sixteen days at the very least, until the dinner at the Greene’s house (which had been named the Cherryhouse, not because of it being near cherries or made of cherrywood but because Mrs Greene had declared any landed gentleman’s house must simply have a name). In that time, he needed to civilize and acclimate Olivia. A flurry of thoughts came to him about the necessity of teaching proper manners, finding a governess, getting more well fitted clothes for the trip back to the City, he certainly would not leave Olivia by herself! What of Motzy? She was elderly but insisted herself hardy yet, Theodore worried she might slip down the stairs or otherwise hurt herself. Perhaps he could invite Motzy's son and his family to spend the winter at House Graef? They could keep an eye on Motzy. But Motzy's son was also a man who took nothing for free, there would be an argument of rent.

“Mister Burke?” He called out as he reached a flight of stairs that took him down to the ground level of the house.

“Yes, sir?” Mister Burke came from a side room, his typically dusty clothes now even more filthy with coal dust that had blackened his hands, greyed his sleeves, and left smear marks on his face.

“Goodness, what have you been doing?” Theodore asked, watching as the other man hastily tried cleaning his hands off by rubbing them on his coat.

“Ah, well, sir, see, we are getting the brewhouse ready as you asked us, but then we realized we got nothing to heat anything with in there! Robert suggested I go ask the kitchen for some fuel. So I went to find Mrs Holder and ask if we could have some coal from the kitchen ladies.”

“You could have asked Miss Goddard directly yourself, Mister Burke,” Theodore suggested.

“N-I… it would have been terribly rude of me to just go into their kitchen and demand coal! They need that to cook with, sir,” Mister Burke shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like bothering people, sir. I don’t like bothering them at all.”

“You would not have been bothering them,” Theodore sighed and lightly shook his head. Burke was a wonderful steward despite his oddities but Theodore felt he could benefit from a healthy dose of confidence and self-assertion. There had not been less than a few times he had found Burke shyly waiting for someone to come let him inside during a storm, despite the man having the keys to most doors in the grand house, and feebly saying he just ‘did not want to bother anyone to see who was coming in’.”Have you seen Motzy and Olli?”

Mister Burke nodded, “yes! I had spoken with them earlier, sir. Motzy is taking Miss Olli into our section of the garden for a walk.”

“A walk?” Theodore felt it was a little early still for a walk, but he trusted Motzy’s judgment on this and knew if something went wrong she would be the first to fetch the apothecary. He looked down and remembered his letter, “ah, Mister Burke?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I have a letter here I need send to the Redtree Inn but-” he glanced down at Mister Burke’s dirty hands and instead elected to leave it on a small round mahogany table on which a glass vase stood with its proud little bronze flower sculpture within.. “You can take it later after you’ve finished helping Robert, but please make sure it gets to Redtree before noon tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes! Of course sir!” Mister Burke nodded. “Are you going outside now, sir?”

“Yes, I want to go see Motzy and Olli,” Theodore replied with a nod.

“...She looks much better than when I found her that night,” Mister Burke muttered thoughtfully, almost to himself but not entirely. “Yes, that reminds me. I saw a tree near the nursery window. Was that a Neighbor?” He shivered. “Should we put out more milk tonight? Or maybe the jam biscuits?”

“The Neighbor was just checking on our new arrival,” Theodore said assuringly, giving Burke a gentle smile. “They’re curious. I am sure they will not say no to a plate of jam biscuits however.”