The Earl's Kitten

Chapter XLI { Unedited }

January 22nd 1888, 16:50 PM

Once the bags were unpacked and I had rested for a small while, we left the house once more - Jackson insisted upon my experiencing some of the sights of Bath while light still lingered. For the most part, everything looked the same - yellow stone here, yellow stone there, and-

"Stop the carriage!"

My Butler knocked on the roof and the carriage came to a halt. Inquisitively, he watched as I stared in awe out of the window at the building to my right.

"Is that a Cathedral, Jackson?"
"No, My Lady. That is Bath Abbey." Smiling rather fondly, Jackson also looked out of the carriage window with me. "It has stood here since sixteen-sixteen, although it recently undertook some structural repair to the ceilings, from what I gathered while I was here repairing the house."

"It's... certainly very peculiar, isn't it?" I couldn't help but look up at the spires and arched windows, admiring how they were all uniform - just like the rest of the city.

"Indeed, Rose. If you would like it, we could have a closer look later this evening."
"I would like that, thank you Jackson."

The carriage continued on once Jackson rapped his knuckles against the roof, rolling along the cobbled streets with relative ease - after all, there was no other traffic around at this time of day on a Sunday. From inside, we could see the Theatre Royal, the Pulteney Bridge, and the outside of the Assembly Rooms as we drove back towards out our holiday home at the end of the evening.

January 22nd 1888, 21:30 PM

"Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That would be wonderful, Jackson." With a groan, I flopped down onto one of the arm chairs in in room, allowing a sigh to escape my lips as I warmed my toes by the fireplace. "Have the servants retired to bed?"

"They have indeed, M'Lady. It has been a long day for us all." Quietly, I snorted and moved my gaze over to my butler who was putting tea leaves into the pot.

"I thought you didn't sleep?"

"You are correct, I don't sleep. That does not mean that I have not struggled to resist strangling those four idiots you call servants." I glanced over my shoulder, watching the way Jackson hunched his shoulders and drew his eyebrows together. I hummed softly, returning my gaze to the flames a few feet in front of me.

"It would appear to me that they are more capable servants than Lord Phantomhive's - at least Isabelle and Loretta don't blow up the kitchen nearly every day. I am lead to believe that Bardroy, despite being the... chef, has a penchant for his flame thrower."

For a long few moments, all that could be heard was the crackle of the hearth.

"It would appear so. Still, both you and I know that I am far more capa-"
"And we also agreed that none of the servants are to know you were inhuman, nor are they to know of our contract. Besides, in the eyes of the gentry, it wouldn't do to run a manor with only one servant, as perfect as you may be."

"Very well, Rose." Carefully, Jackson handed me the cup of tea he had just poured.

January 22nd 1888, 23:45 PM

A quarter hour before the clock struck midnight, I opened the door to Rose's room with a click and shut it softly behind me. Without making a sound, I made my way over to the wardrobe and plucked out her dressing gown and slippers - tonight was a cold night, I had no doubt that she wouldn't appreciate going to see the Abbey in only her night dress.