Of Tea...and Things

A little more scandal in the Park with no Tea to follow

"This is getting more than a little ridiculous, not to mention convoluted," sighed his lordship to a certain Gentleman as they sat at their leisure in the second best parlor.

The First looked up from his paper and grinned, "you mean you have a hard time remembering who we work for at the moment?"

"Precisely," said Mulligan with a shake of his head, "things were so much simpler when I simply moped around this great house wondering what it all meant."

"Perhaps simpler," agreed Feldon, "but certainly more dismal."

"There is that, I suppose," grinned Mulligan ruefully, "but now I'm a triple agent and rather unsure whether I'm coming or going or have met myself in the middle!"

"At least it won't get dull," chuckled the First, glancing half-heartedly at his paper, "except when we are ordered to sit tight and be proper gentlemen, to do nothing that would give the Standards or Society even the briefest pause."

"It is a bit inconvenient taking orders from such a source," grimaced Mulligan, "but I guess there's nothing for it but to plow through."

"This is certainly one of my more unique assignments," agreed the Gentleman, "but I believe I say that with each and every one."

"I wonder what Iris and that Thing are up to," mused Mulligan, having nothing much else to do but read the paper or stare at the wall, the latter being the more productive discipline of the two; maybe he should take up needlework like the ladies seemed to find soothing, little knowing that neither had touched their particular projects in years.

"I don't think we want to know," said the Gentleman with a shudder, "how long until we have to go prepare for our evening out?"

"Another hour at least," sighed Mulligan, eager even to dress for a dull evening out, another order from that atrocious Thing! He had to repair his much damaged reputation if he was to be of the least interest or use to their dread master hereafter. But it would be poor Iris who had to take the brunt of the infamy, or was it the fiend he should be pitying?, for the lady could certainly handle herself!

"I really don't like this," protested Iris as the fiend escorted her to some undisclosed location upon a very disagreeable assignment.

"You should have thought about that before irrevocably swearing your soul to evil!" chuckled the creature maliciously, "Get used to not liking much of anything, sweetheart! Joy is not a concept with which our master is familiar, and now neither are we." She scowled at him but he only laughed the more, though there was no mirth in it, only wicked delight at her misery. "Here we are," said he, opening a little gate that opened on a footpath winding through the Park, adding as he pushed her inside, "here it began, thus also let it end!"

They ambled to the middle of the great greensward, every eye upon the most scandalous person currently to be found amongst the good Citizens of the Realm. Said she, tremulous at first, sensing every ear was open to the least of her whispers, "it was not his fault. The Lord Mulligan had no choice but to throw himself at my feet; I am a very dangerous Thing! I only come forward now because I have been discovered and am forced to release my prey, lest it be the worse for me."

There was no applauding or cheering, no uproar or excited chatter, merely a silent astonishment and disgust. Ludwig wasn't sure which would be the best course of action to salvage Mulligan's reputation: to let matters play out naturally, meaning a wedding with a murder or jilting to follow, or to have the woman come forward and declare herself a sorceress. He had decided on the latter, hoping Mulligan would look blameless in the affair, but perhaps allowing oneself to be ensorcelled was about as bad as being a sorcerer oneself, at least in the eyes of the Citizenry. Whereas murdering the chit wouldn't do much but get his lordship hanged and being jilted by such a wench would be even worse for his reputation. Better to have him be thought a witch's dupe rather than dead or betrayed.