The Hunt for Jack the Ripper (The Phantomhive Diaries #1)

45. Baldroy Gibbons

Baldroy peered through the panes of the parlour's bay window, his gaze fixed on Madam Red's departing carriage disappearing into the darkness of the night. He understood all too well that she would not depart until she was certain that the young master was out of harm's way. With Ciel safely tucked into his bed, she left strict instructions that only soup should pass his lips this evening. Though she reprimanded Baldroy and Sebastian for their negligence, she chose to let the matter rest, if only for Ciel's peace of mind.

"If this happens again, I will take him home with me," she warned them.

Baldroy was all too aware of the gravity of such threats. His past with his late wife, Johanna, had taught him that lesson well. Each passing day only served as a painful reminder of his lost love and the son he cherished. The weight of his regrets hung heavy upon his weary shoulders, a burden he could never shake.

"You're supposed to protect our son. If you allow your father to strike at him again, I'll have to leave. And I'm taking Bardy with me."

Baldroy released a heavy sigh, indulging in a few more draws from the cigarette nestled between his fingers. His moment of respite was abruptly interrupted as Sebastian deftly seized the cigarette from his grasp.

"Bard," he said. "How many times do I need to tell you not to smoke around the house? Much less inside the house."

Baldroy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Sebastian asked. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning up the mess in the hallway?"

"Yeah, um, sorry. I'll get to it soon," Baldroy said. "I'm just watching the madame leave."

Sebastian nodded, understanding. "Thankfully, we were able to handle the situation accordingly," he said as he tossed Baldroy's cigarette into the fireplace.

Baldroy could only watch as the carriage disappeared into the woods. "...What if everything went wrong? What if you hadn't reached the young master in time?"

"But I did."

"And if you hadn't?" he asked. "What if he died? What would you have told the madame?"

"...If I can't protect the young master from harm's way, then what kind of butler would I be?"

Baldroy sneered in disdain. He was well aware that Sebastian would utter such arrogant words. Sebastian always boasted about being an exceptional butler. It seemed that the butler held all the solutions to every problem. However, he never responded to Baldroy's inquiries.

"A jobless one," Baldroy commented as a snarky remark. "If something like this happened to the young master again."

"And it won't."

"How can you be so certain of that?"

"Because my duties are to protect and serve the young master," Sebastian said. "And if my job requires me to fulfill such requests, I am inclined to obey without question. So, trust me when I say that I will make sure that the young master is protected at all costs."

Baldroy eventually turned to face Sebastian. "Sebastian, one of these days, you're going to have the scare of a lifetime and you won't be as confident as you are now."

Sebastian lapsed into a brooding silence, causing Baldroy to wonder if he had indeed struck a nerve. The inscrutable butler's emotions were a mystery, leaving Baldroy to ponder whether he had managed to provoke the wrath of this formidable figure. The memory of the one time he had truly angered Sebastian by spitting on his shoes lingered in Baldroy's mind, earning a punch to the face as a response, a painful reminder of the consequences of his impulsive actions. Despite the risks, there were moments when Baldroy secretly longed to once again witness Sebastian's anger, if only to unravel the enigma that lay beneath the butler's composed facade.

However, Sebastian refrained from such actions, and he did not retort to Baldroy's audacity in questioning him.

"Finish cleaning the mess and return to the kitchen afterward," he said in a rather calm but stern tone. "Then it's off to bed." He was treating Baldroy like a child. "I'll take care of the young master."

Baldroy rolled his eyes. "As you always do." He strode by Sebastian, only to halt abruptly at the entrance to the parlour. It was impossible for him to depart from Sebastian's presence without imparting his opinions on the dire circumstances that had befallen them today. "You know, Sebastian, maybe you should try putting yourself in other people's shoes. Rachel Phantomhive was the madame's sister, right?"

"You are correct. Is there a point to be made, Bard?"

"If she lost her sister, imagine how she felt about almost losing her only nephew. From my experience, I know exactly how that feels."

Sebastian nodded. "...I'll keep that in mind."

"Goodnight, Sebastian."

"Goodnight, Bard."

And so, Baldroy resumed his duties. The window had already been secured with planks of wood to ward off the chilling gusts of wind. The remaining repairs would be completed by morning. He then made his way back to the kitchen to tidy up. He meticulously cleaned the windows, the kitchen table, the counter, the stove, and even swept and mopped the wooden floor. Baldroy ensured that all the meat, bread, and vegetables were neatly arranged, well aware of Sebastian's tendency to inspect everything afterwards to make sure it was done properly. He even double-checked to make sure the oven was turned off. The last time, it had inexplicably turned on, leaving behind a dreadful stench of burning flesh. With everything in order, he extinguished the oil lamps that illuminated the kitchen and retired to the servants' quarters for some much-needed rest.

As Baldroy made his way back to his chamber, he reclined upon his bed and released a heavy sigh. The day had been arduous and far from agreeable.

As he bent over to his bedside table, he unlatched the drawer and retrieved a weathered photograph. His eyes welled with tears as he gazed upon it. The image depicted a stunning indigenous woman with flowing ebony locks and a hand-knit wrap draped over her shoulders, alongside a young lad with inky curls clad in a pristine shirt and somber trousers. His beloved Johanna and their son, Baldroy Jr.

"I hope you and Little Bardy are doing well up there," Baldroy sniffled. "I miss you both."

With the photograph tightly clutched against his heart, Baldroy released a soft whimper.