"Who's Darla?" Lee asked, after Ivonna brought him to his new bedroom.
Even if it wasn't bigger than thirty square feet, it was clean and neat, and the black skirt on the chair indicated the previous inhabitant was a female. Sanders called her Darla.
"She was the mistress's personal maid." Ivonna said with a sigh, "A nice girl, a bit dumb, but nice."
"What happened to her?" Lee already didn't like where this was going.
"She had an accident." Ivonna said, but then stepped closer and whispered, "She fell on a bottle, face first … and with how disfigured she was … her family was … relocated."
It was obvious her words held a deeper meaning, but Lee decided to not jump to conclusions. It was kind of obvious to think someone crippled the girl, and then her family was killed to keep their mouths shut, but it could as well be only a rumor.
From what Lee understood, he didn't have much time till dinner, so he quickly washed his hands and face. Meanwhile another servant brought him clean clothes, but instead of simply passing them over, stared at Lee until the latter was completely crept out.
In the end Lee grabbed clothes, and shut the door in the man's face, but still had goosebumps while changing.
According to Sanders's instructions, Lee's duties this evening were simple. He had to serve the young mistress, while the butler would take care of Master Newman's needs. Everything seemed straight forward, and even though Lee had never waited on anyone, he was certain it was easy enough.
Currently, both he and Sanders stood in the dining hall, which, like the rest of the house, was decorated with dozens of framed paintings of ships. They were large and small, in some ships were battling large waves, in others, anchored in sunrise or sunset. Lee's quick assessment was that the artworks were fine, but nothing spectacular – at least he wouldn't bother to eye them for profit.
The table in the middle of the hall held a small bowl of steaming soup and a roasted rabbit. For a dinner of a noble family it seemed rather poor, but there were not that many family members left. One of the two, Helen Newman, arrived with two large men in tow the moment the roast was brought.
Lee had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, or rather – having a nightmare, because the lady that entered the room was nothing like the smiling and carefree girl from the few years ago.
This one had yellowish face with large, dark circles around her murky eyes, and the trembling hands indicated she either lived in a constant stress or was close friends with alcohol, or maybe both.
While his daughter was waiting, Minister Newman didn't come at all. Instead he sent over a servant instructing Sanders to bring him dinner to the study, but from what it looked like, this was the usual arrangement. The only reaction Helen had, hearing her father was not going to join, was a short snort, and afterwards she fully focused on the food in front of her.
It seemed that Kris Ironfist's assassination had forced the Sunwell's nobles to reevaluate their safety. Helen's two bodyguards were not only there for show. They quickly sampled the dishes and alcohol, and only then Lee was allowed to serve the young madam.
No one spoke, except for Lee's please, allow me, would you like some more and thank you, Mistress! And while she ate rather fast, she drank even quicker.
Helen didn't touch the soup, but cleaned up the rabbit, while emptying two bottles of a strong wine. Strangely enough she didn't look more drunk compared to when she arrived.
Everything changed when she ordered Lee to open another bottle, and he realized that there were no more left. With a nonchalant expression he checked the two cupboards next to the door that led to the kitchen, and to his relief found a few more bottles.
"Which wine would Mistress prefer?" Lee politely asked, and showed two of the bottles that looked more expensive than others.
"Give me that!" She pointed at one and made an inviting gesture, but when Lee brought it over, she grabbed the bottle, and flung it right in his face. The distance between them was so close he could only wonder how he managed to avoid it, but in an instant it became clear how Darla fell on a bottle.
"Get this crap out of my face!" Helen commanded, and stood up, slightly swaying, "Bring me MY wine! And quickly!"
Then she and the two men swiftly left, while one of her bodyguards kept looking back, not being able to believe Lee actually avoided the bottle. Fortunately, the latter did get scared for a moment and the pale face spoke a thousand words, thus his quick reaction wasn't too suspicious.
Quickly meant quickly thus Lee rushed back to the kitchen, to ask Ivonna's advice, but fortunately met Sanders there. He quickly retold the events, although omitting the part with the throw in the face, but the present people weren't too shocked.
Butler beckoned Lee to follow and brought him to a cellar that had rows and rows of wine racks stacked with bottles of different sizes.
"Listen up, Waters! No matter what – never touch here anything!" Sanders warned, "This wine belongs to Master Newman. This is what we serve our guests, but over there is what miss Helen … for fuck's sake!"
His explanation was cut short, when he saw a whole rack that for some reason was partially broken and now leaning at the wall. The problem was that all the wine bottles that were once on the rack were now broken on the floor, and at the sight butler's expression turned ugly. It was too obvious that someone did it on purpose.
"Alright! I'll deal with it!" Sanders said, "You go back."
Normally at this time he would've been in his room, sipping wine himself. But the mess brought a headache that will last for days.
"What about the wine mistress ordered?" Lee asked, "What should I bring her?"
"Damn it!" Sanders remembered the reason they came here. Then thought for a bit, pulled few coins from his pocket, and said, "Run over to 'Kurt's Den'. It's a tavern further down the street. Tell him you came from me, and ask for a bottle of cranberry-apple wine. That's the one miss Newman likes to drink. Tomorrow we'll go and stack up on more, but I need to change the lock to this place first."
Lee nodded and rushed off. While the events were slightly amusing, he never expected these kind of difficulties upon his return to Sunwell.
Clearly some servants were trying to put sticks in his wheels, even though he hadn't gotten on the bike yet, and it was annoying. He had a thought of finding out who was the culprit, but then realized he had much bigger fish to fry, thus insignificant incidents like this were better left for Sanders to deal with.
It took some time for Lee to find the right alcohol, and he could only pray Helen would not get too mad. He already thought of a plan b, but fortunately it wasn't necessary. Sanders met him in the kitchen and slightly surprised took the two bottles from Lee's hand.
To his questioning look Lee said, "Kurt is ripping you off. You can buy the same stuff across the street from him for half the price."
Lee did consider the possibility of butler running a small scheme to pocket some money using extra expensive purchases, but decided it was much more plausible that Sanders was testing him. Turns out he was overthinking things. Kurt was actually ripping Sanders off.
"That bastard!" Sanders cursed, "But why did you get two?"
"My father used to say: send an idiot after a bottle of booze, and he'll bring you only one. I'm sorry if I made a mistake, Sir!" Lee politely explained, trying to sound as sad as possible.
Of course, Lee's idea was completely different. If the lady who drank like an old sailor managed to empty another bottle and he was around without a refill, he might not evade the next flying bottle.
Now, though, she could peacefully pass out till the morning. In addition, with better performance he could score bonus points with the butler who was his current boss.
Turns out Lee couldn't imagine how much of an extra mile he had gone, and what impression his small stunt left on the experienced butler.