"Here, my Lord, I peeled and pitted them myself." Edmonde set down a silver decorated platter down on the left side of Jude's desk. He looked up briefly to spot grapes with their skin missing and their tops missing, and their insides were stuffed with cheese instead of the seeds Jude had come to hate.
"Thank you." He took the small two pronged fork and stabbed one, quickly putting it in his mouth as he pulled another document towards him.
"While you're here, do you have any word back from the landscapers I employed?" Edmonde tilted his head to the side, eyes closing as if he was remembering.
Finally, he shook his head. "Apologies, my Lord, but they refuse to listen to my instruction, claiming that you would never let a lowly servant have creative freedom over his precious garden."
Jude sighed, similarly shaking his head. "I trust you not to throw out the flowers already in the garden, that's all I ask."
Edmonde nodded. But it would still be a problem, Jude waved him off, "Don't worry, I'll come out there today and have a chat with them, clear the air.
Edmonde smiled, "Thank you my Lord." Jude hummed, "It's only natural that I would make sure everyone knew who exactly I put in charge as my right hand."
He took another grape, and offered it up to the fox eyed butler, "Grape?"
_-_
The young Lady Myrna trying her hardest these days to find an excuse to yell at the young Lord wasn't an uncommon sight to see in the Harper Manor.
Of course, when they were suddenly accosted by what new head butler Edmonde had said to be an unwelcome guest, well..then it became burdensome.
More for the attending ladies rather than anyone else, because despite Lady Myrna's unladylike attitude, she had never gone so far as to throw things or assault the staff.
Unlike Lord Harper, who had done so until recently two weeks ago, but the less said about his newly fixed attitude, the better.
They couldn't all help but sweat nervously as they attended Young Lord's Cely's brother in the foyer, serving him what he claimed to be 'weak tea' and 'commoner snacks'.
Most of the drink and food on hand was often ordered by Edmonde these days, you couldn't find anything of 'higher quality' in the house since the Lord of the Manor's purge of all things considered too 'high maintenance' or 'cost more money than they were worth'.
So instead of high quality sweet bread topped with frosting, or delicate macarons, they were instead forced to serve candied flowers or seasonal fruit like grapes and apples, and tea was of the loose leaf variety, known more for its fragrance than its caffeine.
They didn't quite get how to 'properly' serve it, Edmonde being the only one who can strain it just right and make the tea taste more than it smells, and the stubborn man banned them from adding sugar or milk to it to make it more palatable.
So yes, the servants were all on edge, hoping the Lord would just march here himself and deal with the frankly, audacious, flirty, and loud young man.
His obvious talk of being star crossed lovers with the young Lord was embarrassing, and slightly appalling, especially since most of them knew the young Lord since he was a small teen.
That boy was incredibly adverse to any romantic advances, so most were hoping the young Lord would make a big deal out of the Lord Cely's younger brother being here so he'd leave in a hurry.
But when the young Lord marched in the foyer with Edmonde on his heels, he'd simply moodily asked what 'Elias' was doing in his home without an invitation. Quite calmly, despite the young Lord's regular attitude, by his standards.
"I missed my Mother's flowers, and your Father always gave our family an open invitation to visit them whenever we pleased." It was then that the young Lord's face darkened. A shiver of fear skittered up the attending servant's spine.
It was well known the young Lord and any mention of his late Father or his wife were not welcomed in his presence, but instead of throwing and breaking things in response, he simply scoffed, and turned back around.
"Do as you please, just don't bother me, I have work to do, unlike some people."
With that, he swiftly left them to their own devices once again, his overcoat billowing out behind him with the dramatic flair they had often seen on his late Mother, the first wife of the previous Lord Harper.
There was a small silence before Elias grinned, "Great! Show me my wonderful love's hunting gear. The annual spring hunt is coming up and I don't want him to be left without any good gear."
_-_
The issue with Elias, he concluded, was that he was just an attention whore. When he wasn't helping Lord Cely himself with their manor and business, he would spend the weekends trying his level best to pester him, unknowing or uncaring that he himself did not get weekends off.
Jude sighed, and let his quill roll to the side as he laid his head on his desk, despairing as he heard that annoying laugh right out his study window.
"Do you want me to send him away, my Lord?" He turned to give Edmonde a pout. "I wish, alas, we'd never hear the end of it from Lord Cely. He doesn't want me to talk to his brother, but heaven forbid I reject him either."
He rolled his eyes as he remembered that particular letter being set on his desk after he'd sent a missive asking him to keep his brother on a leash, in the politest way possible.
"Speaking of letters, my Lord…" He sighed long sufferingly, and closed his eyes. "If it's from Lord Arderne, burn it, if it's from Lord Simon, just put it with the rest."
The letter was set by his nose. "It's neither, it's from Vaughan, inviting you to be a part of his hunting party, for the annual spring hunt."
He opened his eyes in curiosity, and though he had to cross his eyes a bit to see, he did in fact, recognise the deer on the family crest of the Vaughans, imprinted into the wax seal.
Then he scrunched his nose. "Why in the Queen's name would he invite me, after we made a scene at his ball?"
He was half hoping it would discourage others from ever inviting the Harpers to any social gathering again, unfortunately this invitation just proved that the Universe pointed to him and said 'Fuck Jude specifically'.
"The Prince has rumored to have rejected Lord Vaughan's invitation in favor of pairing up with Lord Cely this year."
Ah, so he was the last person picked, when both the leaders were choosing teams.
He groaned, it figured. It really did.
"Do I have to go?" It was more of a whine you'd hear from a teenager, than what was supposed to be a half respected Lord of a Manor.
"If you want to keep good ties with the most powerful Noble aside from the Prince, the Cely's and the Burton's, then yes."
He peaked an eye open again, "What about the Darcy's?" Edmonde winced a bit, a rare crack in his composure, aside when Jude wasn't purposefully trying to ruffle his feathers.
"Your younger sister's Mother had one of the Patriarch's bastards put to death, when she was a branched Cely, unfortunately, the Darcy's still remember."
His step mother was a Cely? What?
"Branch Cely?" Edmonde raised an eyebrow, "The Macy's, my Lord? Named after Madame Macelyn Cely?"
Jude made a show of rubbing his eyes. "Ah..I remember. I'm sorry, Jude, the pests and the paperwork combined together have been getting to me."
Unbeknownst to him, Edmonde glanced down at his wrists, which had been covered by leather bands, when he didn't wear long sleeved shirts, for dignity's sake.
"Maybe it's best you rest then, My Lord."
A chance to nap without justifying himself? He'll take it!
"Perhaps you're right. Please wake me up before dinner, at least."
He tried his best not to run to his bed as fast as he could.
_-_
Unfortunately, when he was woken up, right before dinner may he add, Elias was still invading his home.
The man wouldn't be so annoying if he knew how to shut up every once in a while, but alas, all he did was talk and talk.
Raving on about the garden, about how poor they must be if they couldn't even afford to keep sugar biscuits on hand for company, which he was guessing meant cookies.
Sue him, he'd lived and died in twenty first century America, where fresh fruit was miles more expensive than a simple box of chocolate cookies, by his standards, half of the nobility was broke if they turned their nose up at an obvious luxury.
He'd hummed then, and while he waited on Edmonde to steep his tea (The fragrance was a strong jasmine, almost too strong) he'd tried his best to converse with Elias at Edmonde's side eye and slight tilt of his head.
He started off his begrudning sentence to the ponce with a sigh, "If you come back during the summer…we'll have better snacks, like watermelon with vanilla flavored yogurt."
He was about to comment again on icecream as well, but Elias' horrified look cut him off, paired with his hand clutching his chest, he looked like a granny clutching her pearls.
"Watermelon…that's even cheaper than cheese and grapes! What are you spending all your money on to not even afford the pleasant light flavor of lemon possé? Or the sweet buttermilk frosting covered cakes?!"
He took a sip of his tea to clear his throat, before he inevitably spewed vitriol at the spoiled little boy sitting across the table from him.
Myrna herself was for once, silent. She delicately picked at her pickled green beans, taking a few moments in between to eat bits of her seasoned quail.
He envied her, at that moment.
But as soon as he set his tea cup down, he winced a bit at the sudden tingling burn that accompanied the tea going down his throat.
He lightly clutched at his jugular, trying his best to breathe through it. A concerned, "My Lord?" from Edmonde made him turn, which of course made him cough.
Specks of blood flicked out, dotting the fine white tablecloth. Edmonde paled, which he never thought possible with how fair his skin was, and he hurriedly grabbed him.
"Doctor! Maid, get a doctor, and you! Check the teas, the food, and summon the cooks!" He was pulled from his chair and Edmonde jerked him around, trying to get him out of the room as quickly as possible.
Another servant came up, lightly sweating, "Sir, does he need some milk?" Edmonde knocked it out of their hands.
"Guards!" He no longer understood what was going on, his vision going blurry, as it got harder and harder to breathe, the lighting burning now turning into fire.
He blacked out, wondering if this is how he died for real this time.