The butler returns

She couldn’t help but burst into laughter, wiping a tear out of the corner of an emerald eye. “And I kind of want you to take one of their places. But dinner is over.” He adds, threateningly, then claps and a few girls walk in from the kitchens and start gathering the bowls and plates from the table. “Get the tarts and kneel to my side,” he asks her. “That’s your task when bringing food.” He easily lifts up the tabletop, muscles bulging underneath his clothes, then places it next to the wall. “You four may go. Take a long soak in the bath, so the muscle tension will go away. Four girls will see to your massages.” He sits back down onto his armchair and looks at Helen. “Well? What are you waiting for?” She hurriedly grabs the plate of tarts off the floor and walks over to him, kneeling down by his left side and lifts them up to her Master.

“Good girl.” He pets her head, then takes a tart and bites into it. He claps again, and Amy opens the door. “Yes, Master?”

“Get Jonathan.” He takes his time to finish his tart, savouring each bite. The butler walks in and bows. “Yes, my Lord?” The tall man takes another tart and waves his right hand dismissively. At his signal, the girl holding the plate of nuts rises and walks back into the kitchen.

“Have a seat, take a tart. Madam Smith has outdone herself today.” The butler pulls out a chair and sits down on the other side of Helen.

“Thank you, my Lord, but I’ll have to refuse. I still haven’t had supper yet.” The lord nods, and takes his time chewing the last of his tart. “What’s today’s news, Jonathan?”