The Earl's Keeper

Thirty-Six: Quarantine

Mia bumped into Leo trying to sneak a whole jug of milk from the kitchen. He spilt some over the lip of the vessel and almost slipped on the puddle. There was a series of high pitched yelps as he let out a shout of surprise, balanced, and hastily put down the large container.

"Lord alive, Gerty would have taken my soul for that piece!" It was her favourite pottery item by far.

"Indeed. What stakes are so high you risked such a daring act, might I ask?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice and that yelp sounded again.

What is that?

"Hush now." He patted his chest pocket, drawing her eyes there. A tiny head poked its way over the material and two tiny paws pulled the pocket down.

"The runt!"

Leo groaned, trying to poke its head back inside, tenderly. It refused and bobbed right back up, tiny tongue sticking out. "I call him Little Foot."

"Ahh, that's so sweet!" She gave him a knowing look. "But Andrew and Will assumed the mother abandoned it somewhere, or it got lost wandering and died. They should have known better. You ought to know better than to try and steal milk from the kitchen, Leo." She didn't care of course, but the boy looked so uncomfortable it was cruelly entertaining to tease him so.

To his credit, he looked mighty embarrassed to have been caught red handed, especially by the countess.

"I did try to milk the cows first. Nearly got kicked in the face for it. But..." he sheepishly looked away. "Udders feel a bit phalic for my taste."

Mia tried. She really did. For all of about three seconds she maintained her decorum - until she couldn't. She erupted into a fit of uproarious laughter that lasted minutes. When she finally got ahold of herself, she said: "you are foul, Leo! Phalic?!" As she wiped tears at the corner of her eyes. It was so lewd it was hilarious.

Leo groaned. "Oh, promise you won't tell the Earl. Please my lady, he thinks me soft and weak anyway. This will be the icing on the cake!"

Mia grinned wickedly. "It will be our little secret."

"And Little Foot?"

She handed him the jug of milk and a glass from the cabinet. With a wink and a flurry of skirts, the countess disappeared from the kitchen.

George stood unnoticed and watching this entire encounter. So it was he that saw the young man blush furiously to his roots, utter something entirely incomprehensible to the ears, and dash away out the back door with the glass of milk.

He has a crush! He concluded delightfully. Poor, sweet naive fool. Well he's only gone and set himself up to break his dumb little heart. Can't believe that's all it took. Must teach the lad to wisen up.

Even though no one was currently in the kitchen, he took a cursory glance around before darting out to grab a slice of pie. Gerty had left it to cool on the wide oak table with the milk to accompany. He often stole away through the servant tunnels in the walls at night for some sneaky late night snacks. If Gerty ever heard him enter so brazenly through the main doors, he always left hungrier and with a good bollocking to send him on his merry way. She loathed snacking before bed. Said it was a bad habit that helped her gain all her weight or some nonsense.

He shovelled gloriously buttery and flaky pastry into his mouth. The sweet tang of berries spread over his tongue and lingered with the aftertaste of...mint? Nice.

Nancy chose that moment to walk in on the young lord. His cheeks were bulging with pie and he looked rather like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter. She let out a snorting giggle. George froze, midway to cleaning off his fingers. His eyes slid to the left and landed on the maidservant.