Chapter Text
Pat looked up at the beautiful red-brick facade. Mid-17th century he had been told on his first visit.
Button House appeared far less gloomy in the sunlight. The first time he had been here, almost two weeks ago, it had been drizzling. Dark clouds overhead had threatened a proper downpour. The perfect mood for a horror film. There had been a real sense that there could be a ghost around every corner. It had made Pat uncertain whether this could be a place to work and live at.
He still wasn't sure. Now that the sun was shining down on him though, Button House, at least, appeared less threatening. The white-framed windows looking down on him almost seemed less like gaping, empty eyes and more like, well, normal windows. And the ivy climbing up the facade looked less dead. Lush almost.
With one last glance at the house, Pat breathed in some courage and walked over to the front door. The gravel of the driveway crunched underneath his feet.
Before Pat could remember the location of the doorbell, the double doors opened to reveal Lady Button. Owner of the Button House Estate. And his new boss. Her dog Dante, a small, fluffy thing, immediately began circling Pat's legs.
Lady Button waved him inside without a word. But Pat was almost sure he could detect approval in her stony expression. Almost.
"Hello Lady Button," he greeted her cheerfully, entering the small dark foyer. He made a show of wiping his shoes on the large doormat that covered about two square metres of the entryway. It was probably there for a reason.
Dante gave a little yap, his tongue lolling out. Looked like Pat had passed his approval again. Or maybe the little tyke actually remembered him from last time.
"I appreciate your punctuality, Patrick," Lady Button commented in lieu of a greeting.
"I made sure to be here in time for the grand tour. Been looking forward to it." He did not mention that he had sat in his car in the visitors' car park for over an hour before their agreed meeting time. Punctuality was important but he had wanted to make absolutely sure that nothing short of an alien abduction could have stopped him from arriving to Button House and his new job on time. Not that he believed in alien abductions by the way.
Lady Button had offered to give Pat a proper tour of the manor. When he had visited Button House for his job interview, he had only really seen the common room that was now visible through the doorway to his left and the library with the attached office where the meeting had taken place. The photos of the rest of the house he had been found online looked very promising though.
The Lady herself was a bit of a formidable character. She was wearing a long grey dress, her greyish blonde hair pulled into an elaborate but strict hair style. During Pat's interview her face had been set in a permanent pout and at the time he had worried, entirely unwarranted since he was here now, that she did not think him a suitable applicant for the job. She was settling into a similar expression now, so maybe it was just the way her face rested.
"As you know," Lady Button began without much further ado, gesturing for him to follow her down a narrow hallway on his right, "Button House used to be entirely residential. We only opened to the public at the beginning of this year. There are still quite a few construction projects planned to improve the visitors' experience and make changes to the private areas for the current tenants. All of my employees are currently residing here, so you are in good company."
One of the benefits of working at Button House had been the option to rent a room and a shared en suite bathroom for a small reduction of his wages. With the current housing market being the way it was, it had seemed the ideal solution. Pat had, until now, been staying at a cheap Bed-and-Breakfast back in Reading. With this new job relocating him over an hour away, he would be able to take his time finding a suitable flat nearby.
Lady Button motioned to a set of wooden steps to her left as they passed by them. "These stairs date back to Tudor times. We include them in our tours for their historical value but otherwise the visitors will mostly use the main staircase in the West Wing. The door on the right leads down to the basement. Most of us don't see the need to go down there. Who knows what sorts of hideous creatures are hiding in the shadows." She visibly shuddered, then continued walking down the hall.
Pat's gaze lingered on the basement door for a second before following her. It was unlikely he would ever need to go down there anyway.
"These rooms on the right are used as storage rooms for the café. It just opened last month. We are still working on expanding our menu. We are mostly offering cakes and drinks at the moment. But Mary, our cook, is eager to include some lunch options soon."
Pat smiled at the memory of the chocolate cake he had enjoyed after his interview. He told Lady Button how he had gone for a second slice as she led him into one of the rooms off the hallway, Dante following right on their heels. She hummed, clearly pleased by his positive review.
"This is the private kitchen for all the residents. There is a shelf in the pantry with your name on it." She gestured to a door in the corner. "There is also a reserved space for you in one of the refrigerators. Kitchen wares are shared by all. I believe I do not have to tell you to clean up after yourself."
Pat decided to see the last part as a compliment to his perceived character and not as a threat. "No, ma'am."
"Good."
Lady Button proceeded to show him the café and the ground floor rooms that were part of the public tours. They featured different living and sleeping quarters throughout the centuries. Original furniture included. Henry VIII had once dined at the manor during his reign and there was an elaborate dining room set-up with all the food (its plastic equivalents rather) he had apparently consumed during his stay. Including a big roast swan.
"In your first two weeks you will be accompanying our other two guides on their tours to give you the chance to simply observe. One of them will then follow along on your own first few tours in case there are any questions. Have you had a chance to take a look at the digital booklet I e-mailed you?"
Pat nodded eagerly. "Yes, worked through it twice already." All 120 pages. Printed out, highlighted and page-marked. Lady Button gave him an approving look. "So much to learn," he continued. "I've never worked as a tour guide before. Makes me a bit nervous trying to remember it all."
"You won't have to include everything in your tour, of course," Lady Button told him. "Most people do not have the attention span. Simply stick to the main facts. That usually does it for most of them."
Had Lady Button actually just insulted the visitors? He sure as hell wasn't going to point that out to her. Just tried to be happy with the fact that he would not be required to memorise the 120-page book down to its last word.
They climbed up the aforementioned Tudor stairs. Dante comically struggled to climb up the high steps but refused to be carried when Lady Button sighed dramatically and bent down to pick him up. He had whined equally as dramatically until she had set him down again with an offended huff. Lady Button pointed out the construction taking place in the East wing of the first floor. A leaky roof had apparently done some damage to some of the rooms. "Hopefully we will be able to include them on the tour at some point. Or maybe turn them into more event rooms. We are, as of yet, undecided."
Next was a large room with dark red wallpaper and ornamental sofas. "We are now entering the ballroom. Our plan is to host wedding receptions here by the end of the year and our staff meetings take place here every Wednesday morning. The residents are allowed to use this room during closing hours. You will find most of them in the television room however."
Lady Button quickly led him down a short hallway and showed him the small room which only held hazardously filled shelves with worn paperbacks, a lumpy old couch and a decent-sized flat screen television perched on top of a chest of drawers. Since it was not open to the public, she had clearly not prioritised decorating in here.
Pat followed Lady Button back to the ballroom, past a grand staircase and through a locked door marked 'Staff only' into another hallway. "This is where most of the private sleeping quarters are located. There are two more bedrooms downstairs, including my own." She opened the door to one of the rooms and stepped inside. "This is one of the two rooms still unoccupied. They share a bathroom between them." She pointed to the door on the left. " You require a furnished room, correct?"
Pat nodded. "Yeah, don't have much in terms of furniture at the moment." He thought of the dingy room he had resided in until this very morning and let his eyes roam over the four-poster bed and the dresser next to it. There was also a cosy-looking armchair in the corner next to the window. "This'll do nicely."
"The other bedroom is next door. You can choose which one you would like. There are no more additions currently planned."
There was a more pressing matter at hand for Pat though. Something he had forgotten to mention when Lady Button had first offered him to reside in one of the rooms.
"Lady Button." The woman in question turned to face him from where she had been watching Dante sniff the floor boards. "I've got a son. Daley. He's five." Pat readjusted his glasses. A habit whenever he was especially nervous. "Would it be alright if he came to stay here sometimes? On the weekends? I was thinking of getting a pull-out couch maybe. My wi- well, ex-wife..." He had never thought that would be a term he would have to use to describe his own life, "and I agreed it would be best to let him stay in Reading for school and friends. But I get to have him every second weekend and some parts of the school holidays and I know it's not ideal and I will be looking for a fla-"
"Of course."
"Oh. Really?" Really?
"Yes, of course. Family is always welcome." And there definitely was some warmth in Lady Button's eyes. Pat was pretty sure about that.
"Oh thank you, Lady B." Pat noticed her frown and quickly corrected, "I mean Button. That is much appreciated. I promise he is a good lad and won't be any trouble."
"I'm sure he won't be." She moved towards the door. "Shall we finish up the tour? And then I'll get some of the others to help you with your belongings."
Pat followed after her. Lady Button proceeded to show him the downstairs library that he had seen before. He was free to borrow any book anytime, she told him. As long as he was careful and treated it with utmost care. Pat was more the cheap paperback kind of guy, so the books in the telly room were probably more his vibe.
They then entered the large common room he had seen from the entrance.
"And this is the drawing room. Along with the ballroom and the library this is the only part of the West wing open to the public."
Pat looked around as Lady Button spoke. Fancy sofas and armchairs that looked mighty uncomfortable with fancy, even more uncomfortable-looking cushions. The amount of frill probably did nothing for one's back if one were to lean against them. Which probably wasn't something one was supposed to do anyway. The fireplace looked nice though. A large dog bed sat right in front of it.
Just then Pat heard the front door out in the foyer creak open. Dante's ears immediately perked up at the sound. He must have identified the person entering by the single step they managed to take into the house before the dog started barking excitedly and sped towards the front door, little claws scratching against the stone tiles.
"Good day to you, Dante," the person, male by the sound of it, and very public school, greeted the animal before closing the door to reveal a man with wind-swept greying hair. He was wearing a dark green fleece jacket and tan cargo trousers. He carefully kneeled down to pet the dog. Pat heard his creaking knee joints from across the room.
"Oh, Captain!" Lady Button took a step or two towards the lobby to see the newcomer better. "Patrick is here."
There was a pointed silence from the foyer.
Okay. That was rude, right?
Lady Button released a long-suffering sigh that reminded Pat of his own mother before she addressed the man once more. "Would you mind getting Montague ready for me? I'd quite like to take advantage of the weather." She turned to Pat. "Montague is my best horse. We have a stable towards the back of the property."
Pat could only nod and smile. Apparently he now lived with people who owned their own horses and stable.
"Yes, no problem, Fan-" The man still squatting in the hallway with Dante briefly flicked his gaze towards them. "Lady Button." He then visibly braced himself before standing up again with a resounding crunch of his knees. Pat winced in sympathy.
Lady Button nodded. "Thank you, Captain. Shall we say in half an hour?"
The Captain, now standing as straight and stiff as a member of the King's Guard, focused on Lady B. and Pat suddenly realised that he had seen the man before. He had silently glowered at Pat from a corner of the office for the entire duration of Pat's interview with Lady Button. His hair had been neatly combed and forced into submission by, what Pat had assumed, an entire jar of Brylcreem. He had also been wearing suit trousers, a dress shirt and a tie. They had not exchanged a single word.
"I can drive you down there if you'd like," the man now said. It was hard to tell with his moustache but he might have been smiling. There was definitely a twinkle in his eyes. Maybe it was not the same bloke after all. The man from two weeks ago had not seemed the smiling type. He also did not give the impression of recognising Pat at all.
"Ah, no thank you." Lady Button clasped her hands together. "I detest that vehicle of yours. I'll be taking the car."
The man shrugged and then looked down at the dog that was excitedly weaving around his legs. "Come along, Dante. I'll be taking a detour through the kitchen." He turned and walked in the other direction, Dante doing his best to trip him up on the way.
Lady Button took two more steps as if to follow but then simply hollered after them: "No more than one, Captain!"
Pat could just make out the responding "Fanny, yes, Fanny!"
Lady Button tutted. "Well, he does like his treats." She turned her focus back to Pat who adjusted his glasses awkwardly.
"The dog or ...?" He trailed off for lack of a proper name.
"Both." Lady Button shook her head. "The Captain takes care of the gardens and grounds of the estate. He knows his manners but he does not like to use them." Her disapproval was palpable.
She gestured at the room. "The drawing room may also be used for after-hour activities. As long as it is always left in its original state." She pointedly looked at him as if to dare him to move a chair even an inch from its current position or smush one of the fancy pillows with his bottom.
"Feel free to explore the rest of the property at your own leisure," Lady Button went on. "One of the others might be willing to accompany you." Pat was sure that Brylcreem guy would definitely be up for that. He simply smiled in response.
Lady Button almost smiled back. "Will you be needing help carrying your possessions inside? I can get some of the others to help."
"Oh, that would be much appreciated. Ta muchly!"
By the time Pat drove his trusty and packed-to-the-roof Volkswagen up to the front door of Button House (Lady Button had insisted on saving them the long trips down to the visitor's car park where he had originally parked), there were five other employees waiting for him. They stood in a neat row behind Lady Button, like little soldiers. Thomas and Humphrey introduced themselves as the other two tour guides. Robin was the caretaker of Button House, Mary the cook and baker mentioned before by Lady B. and Kitty worked as a waitress in the café.
Lady Button then excused herself. She had a horse to ride after all. And they were left to sort Pat's possessions into his new home by themselves.
With all the helping hands it only took a few trips each before all of Pat's belongings were piled up in his new room. All the ones he had managed to fit into his car anyway. There were a few more things he would move here from his house, well, his ex-wife's house now, when he picked up Daley for a visit next time.
Mary left after that, declaring that she would be preparing 'the doughs'. Whatever that meant.
"You're coming to Pizza Night, right?" Humphrey asked Pat as they made up the bed with his brand new, freshly washed sheets.
"Pizza Night?" Pat had definitely registered the capital letters.
"Yeah, we all bring stuff for pizza, drink beer and have a grand old time. We start around six." Humphrey struggled to find his way around the fitted sheet and Pat quickly grabbed onto it to help. Those things were always putting up a fight.
Pizza Night sounded lovely. Might be a good way to get to know everyone a little better before his first day of work tomorrow. "Count me in."
The others cheered.
As Pat and Humphrey fought the sheet into submission (they had to pull it off again and rotate it by ninety degrees to make it fit properly), Thomas started a rant about Pat's supposedly deplorable taste in literature when the man opened the box that held his meagre collection of books. He became so animated that his dark brown curls bounced up and down with the movement. Thomas himself was an author in his free time apparently. He unpacked and placed the books on the dresser anyway so Pat did not mind his tirade too much. Maybe he could get a bookshelf when he went out to IKEA for the pull-out couch for Daley. And maybe a plant or two to liven things up.
Kitty and Robin meanwhile argued over how to organise Pat's socks into one of the drawers.
"We should organise them by the colours of the rainbow," Kitty proposed as they contemplated the contents of the suitcase in front of them. Pat only belatedly remembered that his pants were in that same suitcase.
"Can't remember colours of rainbow," Robin declared grumpily, folding his arms across his broad chest. His wild hair looked like he had been playing with an outlet when Lady Button had called him over.
"Oh, it's very easy. A friend told me a clever way to remember," Kitty reassured him. "You make a sentence with the same first letters. So it's 'Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain'. So that's red, orange, yellow," she paused for a second or two, "grey, blue, indigo, v..." She trailed off.
"Very light blue," Robin offered enthusiastically, pointing at her.
"Yes!" Kitty clapped her hands excitedly. "A rainbow."
Pat turned to Humphrey who simply pulled an amused face. "Don't ask."
"Oh no." Robin and Kitty stared forlornly at the suitcase when they realised that Pat's socks were mostly beige, with some green and yellow ones mixed in.
Pat glanced out of the window as he moved away from his newly made bed. He had a lovely view of the gardens which were in full bloom at this time of year. Most of the space was simply covered with lush, green grass but he could also see a meadow with wildflowers and the orderly beds of a vegetable garden. There was a rose garden towards the back of the house that he had read about but it was not visible from this angle. Pat was sure he would enjoy his explorations of the grounds.
Just as he started to drift away from the window, Pat saw movements from the corner of his eye. The grey-haired groundsman from earlier leisurely walked into view, a long walking stick in his hand as if he was on a hike. Dante the dog, carrying a shorter stick in his snout, followed the man faithfully. They came to a stop near the wildflowers. The Captain seemed to be happy just watching nature for a bit but Dante had other ideas. The dog laid the stick on the ground and stared up at his companion expectantly. The Captain must have noticed because he bent down, picked up the stick and threw it to his left. Dante sped after it immediately.
"Have you met him yet?" Thomas had come to stand beside Pat at the window and peered outside.
"Not officially. No." Pat adjusted his glasses. "He was there during my interview with Lady Button but he never said a word." Their encounter earlier didn't count, did it?
Dante had retrieved the stick and the Captain threw it in the opposite direction.
"Oh, he still does that?" Humphrey joined them. "Did he glare really intensely?"
"Yeah." Pat huffed out a laugh. "I would have been nervous enough without him there. Lady Button was intense enough."
Humphrey shook his head, half amused. "I'd hoped Lady B had forbidden him from attending interviews with potential employees. Puts most of them off, I imagine."
Pat could definitely see that happening. It had put him off a bit.
"Humphrey once thought he was going to murder us all in a mass shooting," Thomas declared gleefully. "Very American."
"What?" Pat turned to Humphrey. "What made you think that?"
Humphrey put up his hands in defence. "Saw him walking around with a shotgun." Then he shrugged nonchalantly. "Turns out he had to shoot a pigeon that the neighbour's dog had got to."
They all hummed in harmonised sympathy. It wasn't quite clear to Pat whether it was for the pigeon or the man who had to put the poor thing out of its misery.
"So," Pat spoke up after a moment of quiet communal contemplation, "do you all call him 'The Captain'? Or is that a thing between him and Lady Button?"
Thomas sighed dramatically. "He never introduced himself to any of us, so we just go with what we've been given by context."
That sounded a bit weird. Was that weird? He had tried to not let the Captain's dismissive behaviour from earlier get to him.
"Well, at least it's nothing personal," Pat mumbled.
Pizza Night was always a bit of an event at Button House.
At some point a few months ago, when it had only been Robin, Humphrey and Mary, the tradition had silently established itself without much ado. Kitty and Thomas had immediately joined in when they had moved in only a week apart from each other. They now met in the kitchen every Tuesday evening to roll out Mary's pizza dough and choose their toppings before catching up with each other (not that any of them ever really went anywhere to report back anything exciting) while the pizza baked in the ovens. Button House was closed to the public on Mondays and Tuesdays and most of its employees would have these two days as their weekend. Therefore, Pizza Night was a last celebration of freedom before the start of another work week.
Humphrey lazily sipped on his beer as he watched Robin and Mary argue over the combination of kiwi and ham as toppings. Weirder choices have been made in the past. The pineapple-on-pizza debate at Button House had quickly evolved into a challenge to find the most outrageous but actually delicious pizza topping. Robin and Mary were the most dedicated contestants in this competition. Humphrey was almost sure that they were both in fact arguing in favour of the kiwi-ham combination. They were too busy throwing little pieces of fruit around the kitchen to listen to each other.
"Hello!" Humphrey turned when he heard a cheerful voice behind him. Pat was standing in the doorway, awkwardly pulling on his beige shorts as he observed the scene taking place in the room. His big cuddly jumper, large aviator glasses and bushy moustache made him look like such a dad. Humphrey was surprised Pat hadn't pulled up with five kids in tow. And a mini-van. He did have one though. A kid. Humphrey had helped arrange Pat's picture frames around the room. Pat had not shut up about his son for about an hour afterwards.
"Ah! New guy!" Robin waved the man over to the table. "You tell Mary kiwiwi good on pizza."
Pat gingerly stepped into the kitchen, visibly looking for clues as to how to proceed.
Mary inadvertently came to his aid. " That's what I says. Kiwis be always goods. Especiallys with hams."
That started a whole new argument about who had not been listening to whom. Pat slowly made his way to Humphrey's side. He had obviously concluded that they were both the only sane minds in the room and had to create an alliance against the madness unfolding in front of them. More kiwi pieces went flying.
"Want a beer?" Humphrey got up to walk to the fridge and pull out a can off his personal shelf. He held it up for the other man to see.
"Oh, thank you." Pat smiled gratefully. Then he looked at the pile of ingredients on the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anything. I haven't had time to run to the shops."
Humphrey slunk back to the table, opening the beer and handing it over. "That's alright. You have the new guy bonus. You'll be getting away with anything for a while."
Just then Kitty and Thomas entered the room. The latter, realising that he now had a proper audience, immediately adopted a dramatic pose and began a lyrical monologue about whatever topic he was feeling especially tender about today. Humphrey had quickly mastered the art of tuning him out. Thomas was an alright bloke but his poetry was simply exhausting.
Lady Button, shadowed by Dante, joined them only moments later.
They had originally only invited her out of sheer politeness once they had realised that Pizza Night was evolving into a regular thing. It would have been rude to exclude the other residents of the house. None of them had really expected Lady Button to actually attend. She always gave the air of a stuffy and strict lady that would prefer not to deal with the peasants. Her judgemental facial expressions were the stuff of legends.
But, as it turned out, she seemed quite happy to mingle with her employees. She only raised a stern eyebrow at their jokes and wrinkled her nose in disdain whenever someone used improper grammar. Other than that, she appeared to enjoy being part of the group. More reserved than the others but not shy to make conversation.
They all eventually found a seat around the large kitchen table and most of them (Robin and Mary were still too busy arguing but they had at least stopped throwing fruit when Lady Button had entered the room) grabbed hold of a cutting board and a knife to prepare the pizza toppings. Dante weaved between their chairs in the hopes of falling debris.
Lady Button leaned forward a bit to be able to speak to Pat. "Has the Captain spoken with you?"
Pat looked up from the onion he was cutting and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The Captain? No, he didn't. Haven't really seen him since I arrived. Did he need something?"
Humphrey knew Lady Button well enough to see the flicker of an emotion cross her face but not well enough to tell which one it was. She pulled her shoulders back a bit before she answered. "I told him to get you a parking badge for the residents' car park. I'll remind him again in the morning."
"Isn't he joining us?" Pat moved to take a casual sip from his beer. The can stopped mid-way to his mouth when he realised that an awkward silence had fallen over their little group. It was an innocent enough question. All the other residents of Button House were here after all.
Humphrey decided to save their evening, hoping that the others would simply play along and not start another argument. "The Captain's not really one for pizza." Pat's face formed into an expression of confusion. Apparently he too had never met anyone who turned down pizza."And he's the only one who works on Tuesdays, so he's usually tired."
These were not excuses the Captain himself had come up with. Humphrey and the others had repeatedly invited him to their social events and every single time he had simply told them "No, thank you". Even Kitty had gotten the message eventually and stopped bothering to ask.
Pat frowned down at his onion for a bit. Luckily everyone else was quickly distracted by Thomas who had a sudden cheese-inspired poem to present to the group.
There came a point in the evening when Humphrey could no longer deny the fact that he had downed three cans of beer. He heaved a sigh, thinking of the long trek up the stairs to the closest toilet and excused himself.
Once business was taken care of, Humphrey trotted back down the creaking Tudor stairs. Even after living in this place for months, the noises the house made still gave him the creeps. He always made sure to turn all the available lights on once it got dark outside. He wanted to see the ghosts before they scared him to death.
Just as Humphrey reached the hallway that would lead him back to the kitchen, he heard the front door open. He tiptoed closer to the foyer to make sure that the person entering the house was in fact the one person who was likely to enter the house at this time of night. And not a burglar prepared to rob the expensive but also very uncomfortable furniture.
Humphrey silently watched the figure in question as they wiped their boots on the doormat, a long wooden stick held in their right hand. He couldn't make out any identifying features due to the hood of a rain jacket covering everything important. It was clearly raining outside, the dark coat was covered in a glistening sheen of moisture visible even in the gloomy darkness of the entryway. Not everyone was afraid of ghosts, it seemed.
The person finally revealed himself to be indeed the Captain when he pulled the hood back to expose his dark silver hair.
Humphrey cleared his throat to let the other man know that he was not alone. The Captain jumped back, meeting the closed front door with a bang and a curse.
"What the bally hell are you playing at?" The Captain straightened into his familiar military posture, the stick brandished in front of him like a weapon once he had recovered from the shock. He glared down the hallway.
Humphrey stepped forward to make sure he would be seen. "Sorry, it's just me." Not that the Captain would be comforted by that fact. Indeed, the man seemed to want to morph into the door he had just bumped into.
"Sorry," Humphrey said again when it became clear that the other man had nothing to say. "There's some pizza left if you want some." He pointed towards the kitchen behind him. Humphrey had never actually seen the Captain in the kitchen, so maybe he didn't know where it was? Which, of course, he did. He must know. The Captain had lived here longer than any of them. Maybe including Lady B. "And we're gonna do cake for Pat in a minute," Humphrey went on when no response filled his pause. "I helped Mary bake this morning. As a welcome gift, you know? You could join us if you'd like. It's chocolate cake. Just for a few minutes if you're tired."
Why did he even mention all this? He knew what the response was going to be. It was always the same. But he had asked anyway. Because he liked to think of himself as a decent human being. And it was common courtesy to invite your housemate to a social event everyone else was partaking in. Even if that housemate usually behaved like a bit of a prick and never showed any kind of interest in these sorts of activities or any of them as individuals.
A few seconds passed.
"No, thank you."
Humphrey could not quite make out the Captain's facial features, especially once the man bent down and proceeded to pull off his muddy Wellington boots. Which was as clear a dismissal as a "Fuck off" would have been.
"Feel free to join us if you change your mind," Humphrey grumbled out, far less polite than the rest of his part in this conversation had been. With one last glance towards the man on the doormat, Humphrey turned and walked back to the kitchen, just about resisting to call the Captain a twat under his breath.
None of them knew what the bloke's problem was. Robin, shortly followed by Humphrey because his brother had been lovely enough to mention Humphrey's history degree to Lady B, had been the first to get hired at Button House. The Captain had already been stomping his way across the grounds by then. In the beginning, Humphrey had suspected him to simply be impossibly shy. But any effort to give the man an opportunity to connect with the rest of them had been shot down immediately. By now, Humphrey was ready to reach the conclusion that the Captain was just an arrogant arsehole.
"Prick," Humphrey mumbled just as he reached the kitchen. He should stop thinking about their resident prat. There was cake waiting after all.