Beloved of Science

[animerider223]

This answer satisfied Emma's curiousity for now, helping with the food. Being for one person it was oftly well set. The roast in the middle, not far down the table from the end where the plate was. The silver ware were nicer than any Emma had ever seen. The two rolls steamed in a small bowl and the mash potatoes and gravy smelled delicious. The wine was brought out and poured, red liquid delicately gracing the smooth glass. Finished setting the table they vacated the room, the girls sitting by the fire place, one with something to sew, whispering about some rumor. Emma waited by the door, eager to meet her benefactor.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Ms. Weatherbee knocked on his study door. "Master Burton, your lunch is served," she called, using the informal name she'd gained permission to use only through many years of familiarity.

"Come in," came a short reply.

She peeked in and smiled at him. "Would you like to take your meal in the dining room today? The new maid's arrived and it would be good for you to put in an appearance."

Burton mulled this over in a vaguely grumpy, teenagerly way. "...I suppose I should," he begrudged.

Ms. Weatherbee came in, and when she saw him she waved at his outfit, rumpled from sitting for so long and in need of some mending. Tsking, she took a fresh overcoat down from a coat rack. "Put something on over that; it wouldn't hurt to make a good impression." He stood and extended his arms for her to help put on the overcoat. Slipping it on over his shoulders, he attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of his vest. Ms. Weatherbee took the bottom of the vest and gave it a tug downwards. "Good enough. Oh your hair- Never mind, good enough." Frowning and patting the full mop of hair on his head, he followed her downstairs.

When they arrived at the dining room, Burton took his usual spot at the head of the table and draped a cloth napkin on his lap as James appeared to serve up the food. "Thank you James," Burton mumbled, and vaguely wondered where this new maid was supposed to be. He didn't think of it too hard as he began eating.

[animerider223]

Emma grew increasingly nervous. She wasn't sure how to greet your new boss, the only one she had had she had known from childhood. She could hear that he had sat down and was eating. She wrung her hands, till finally Ms. Weatherbee took over.

"Well, come on then." Ms. Weatherbee encouraged her through the door. Emma followed, standing stiffly and quietly, spotting the master of the house at the end of the table, filling the spot that had been vacant. He had a tall figure, with thin but defined shoulders. His hair was not neatly combed, nor where his clothes pressed and lacked a crisp air. He looked up at them, Emma felt as if a cold breeze had swept into the room and sent chills up her spine. "Here is the new maid, Miss Emma Crick." Ms. Weatherbee did the introductions. Emma nodded her head in greeting, feeling embarassed.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton froze in the middle of cutting his meat. He stared up at her through a fringe of bangs that had fallen forward as he tended to his meal. Silent, he regarded the newcomer suspiciously. She was just a sapling- thin and meek-looking and a girl. He had been expecting someone older to fill Mrs. McCreevey's place- not for any reason in particular, just that Mrs. McCreevey had been older. And here was a little mouse of a thing, hands folded in front of her and practically shivering.

"Miss Crick," he repeated, more to himself than the maids. He glanced down distractedly at his plate again- he thought he saw something move- (probably just seeing things again) and then looked back up at them, blinking, as if suddenly remembering that it was expected in polite society to respond to people who talked to you. "Oh. Miss- well. Welcome," he managed awkwardly.

[animerider223]

"Thank you." She answered, finding her voice and projecting it with false confidence. "This place is quite amiable." She informed him, trying to think of something to say. Ms. Weatherbee left the room and Emma realized she was alone with Mr. DeTamble. She glanced back at the kitchen door behind her. She faced him again, summoning her courage. She did not say anything, she figured that would be out of place for her station.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

He didn't respond to her sentiment. Burton was resigning himself to the fact that his meal would have to wait. He couldn't eat with people watching him. He continued to sit silently a moment, fork and knife still in hands, and attempted to avoid eye contact with Emma. "Mmm....Has Ms. Weatherbee informed you of your duties here?" he asked, pretending to be interested in the patterns in the wood grain of the dark-stained oak table.

[animerider223]

"Yes. But I fear that I shall get lost in this house." She answered. She watched him, noting his behavior. She felt as if he was uninterested, looking down at the table and avoiding looking at her. She was confused by this attitude, didn't he want to know who was working for him? "I'm sorry, I have interrupted your meal." She told him, ever so slightly heading back for the door without turning her back to him. "It was lovely to make your acquaintance." She turned to leave.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton looked up. "Oh-" Like a skittish rabbit, he mused, mildly irritated. He straightened up. "Miss," he called, voice crisper and sounding more like someone of his position ought to. "I haven't dismissed you yet."

[animerider223]

Emma stopped and turned around, face set, trying to keep from blushing with embarassed irritation. She stood quietly, waiting now.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

"Have you ever been a maid before?" he asked, going back to cutting his meat.

[animerider223]

"No. Before coming here I was a teacher at Cross Academy, mainly teaching art." She told him, carefully approaching the end of the table.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

He nodded and ran through a list of things he would need to inform her of. New staff were a hassle to break in. "Has Ms. Weatherbee designated which areas of the house are off-limits?" he asked Emma. Best to make sure.

[animerider223]

"Yes." She answered. She didn't understand why there were areas off limit, but she would comply. Seemed rather suspicious though.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

He nodded again, drinking some more wine. "I'm in my private quarters from about 11 am until 6 pm. Any time wherein you are free to go about your duties in my bedchamber and study. I trust Ms. Weatherbee has shown you what needs to be done in the remaining areas of the manor."

[animerider223]

"Yes, although she was a bit vague. But I believe I will get along soon." She wondered what he would be doing in his private quarters for such a long period.