Her Butler: Sinful

:: Chapter Two ::

~Sebastian's POV~

I carried my delicate young mistress to her bed chamber and drew back the thick blankets. She didn't stir as I gently lay her down, nor when I removed her shoes or unpinned her silken navy tinged raven hair. Humans were such fragile things. I removed one of my white gloves and lightly traced my finger over her rose petal soft lips before brushing aside the dribble of blood at the corner. Something stirred within me as I thought back to how she called out my name at Vanel's manor. My young mistress didn't often display her weaknesses or insecurities, not even in my presence, she was stubborn.

Ciel began to toss and turn in her sleep. "no." She mumbled swatting at some invisible force.

"Milady?"

"Sebastian, save me." She whimpered.

"Milady?" I tried again a little louder as I leaned over her and reached down to gently rouse her from her haunting dream.

Her piercing sapphire eye snapped open and her hand shot out and gripped my wrist before I could reach her. "Don't touch me." Her voice shook and I saw tears welling in her brilliant visible eye.

"Shall I make you some tea, milady?"

Her sapphire orb narrowed into a glare and her other hand lashed out at me, in a flash, backhanding me across the cheek. "Address me properly, Sebastian." She snapped.

I held back a chuckle; she'd probably injured her hand more so than my face, "Very well, young master; would you like some tea?"

She released my wrist and I watched, amused, as she struggled for composure, "Please."

"As you wish, young master." I bowed out of the room and made my way to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

The gardener, cook, and housemaid were cluttered around the small wooden kitchen table staring intently at the Deep-Dish Apple Raisin Pie I'd prepared earlier for the young mistress and her guests.

"Dammit, Sebastian! Does 'clean it up' mean we can eat it or not? I have to know!" The cook, Bardroy, a somewhat scruffy male, with a cockney British accent jumped from his seat dramatically.

"Is this what you three have been doing all this time?" I sighed as I retrieved the young mistress's favorite tea set from the china cabinet. It was a traditional porcelain set, hand painted with an almost oriental pattern in black, grey and whisper pink, a gift from an old informant of the previous head of the house, a strange man by the name of Undertaker.

"How was we s'pos'd to know that?" Bardroy grumbled as he and the gardener searched for cutlery. "Oy, where's all the forks and knives?"

"Are they gone?" I pondered casually as I fixed the young mistress' favorite blend of tea, "I guess we'll have to order more."

"Thas the second set this month." Mey-Rin the dreadfully far sighted maid noted in her harsh accent.

I placed the tea set and a saucer of steamed milk on the tea cart. This blend would help the young mistress sleep. I wheeled the cart to her room and knocked politely, "Young master, I've brought your tea." I nudged the door open and chuckled as I spotted the young mistress sprawled across her bed with half the buttons of her overcoat askew. It appeared my helpless mistress had attempted to undress herself and gave up in frustration. "Like a helpless kitten." I mused as I swiftly removed her overcoat.