Chapter Text
Upon arrival at Button House Estate, it was clear to anyone of note that Stephanie Button had worked hard to turn things around. While one might be predisposed to try and keep their general dislike of the residence, (due to the nature of which Lady Fanny inherited the home) it was not uncommon for visitors to end up with a particular fondness for the house and grounds before leaving. They would then, therefore, plan to one day visit again.
Button House was a grand home based in England, Surrey. A county to the west of the country. The house itself was surrounded by a multitude of fields and won awards for being the finest house in the county on more than a few occasions: a vote which had nothing to do with Lady Fanny Button's role as head of the local committee.
As beautiful as the house was, it was also currently, and most unfortunately, subject to a most indecorous scandal.
The previous owner, Sir George Button, was last seen with an abundant amount of luggage, necessitating many a car and footman to help move. It was also rumoured that while he had his butler and groundskeeper in tow, his leave of the home was a matter of permanence and he had left his wife Stephanie to take over ownership of the grounds.
This rumour, while initially only a matter of heresy to the people of the nearby village, was in fact made a clear declaration without falsity due to a letter penned and signed by Sir George Button himself.
Lady Fanny’s legal advisor, one Mr Julian Fawcett, was very concerned with the word ‘asset.’ He was after all, technically, Sir George’s lawyer. His contract of clientele was registered to whoever owned Button House. Though it was also made clear, by the twenty five page long letter, that now the title of owner fell to Fanny herself. So Mr Fawcett now endeavoured to ensure Stephanie had the best legal protection. He promptly moved into one of the rooms in the east wing for a temporary, but unknown amount of time. His valet, a man known as Robin, came along too.
The local journalists swarmed the gates as they planned to report on the absurdity of Sir George’s departure. Suddenly the owner of Button House, and the village, was a woman. A fact that, for whatever nonsensical reason, caused an awful uproar. Lady Stephanie Button was certainly not the first female landowner in the county, but the circumstances of which she was handed the title spurred feelings of turmoil among many.
The beginning of May marked three months after the initial shock of it all. The weather turned warmer and the days were longer. It was also at this time that the endless streams of reporters finally left, moving on to the next big story.
Though it was certainly quieter at Button House, the effects of such a scandal still hung over everybody there. Stephanie was used to hosting large parties with hundreds of people, but now it seemed many chose to stay away. Fawcett reassured her that it was only for a little while, to which she quipped, “yes you said your stay would be too.”
Though in truth she was rather thankful for the man’s presence in the home. Despite his crude humour the lawyer had made her laugh more than George ever had, and she found herself less concerned with what would be considered unbecoming of a lady.
Besides Fawcett and his valet Robin, the only other people living at the large house were the two members of staff brave enough to stay under the shadow of such opprobrium. The staff who remained were cooks, Mary and Annie. Stephanie had not been surprised by this at all, for her cooks were two of the most headstrong people she knew and rivalled that of the minds in the upper class. The only other person to remain in the house was the orphan girl by the name of Jemima, whom Lady Button had fostered two years before after finding her trying to sleep on a bench on a public footpath not too far from the edge of the estate.
“At least it’s calmed down now, ey?” Julian said over breakfast one day.
“Yes, quite.” Fanny says, thanking Robin as he serves tea. She was very thankful for the lawyer's valet, for he had readily taken on the role of butler in the absence of her own. It was unlikely someone would want to work at a house that had recently suffered ill reproach, and Fanny was not yet ready to hire any new staff.
“Just in time for my niece's visit too,” she added, a smile gracing her lips as she thought about her late brother’s daughter, Lady Katherine Higham.
“She is supposed to be celebrating her birthday here isn’t she?”
“It will give me the greatest joy to see her become two-and-twenty.” [22]
“Do you think a party is plausible?” Julian asks. The scowl from the older woman compelled him to add, “I merely mean with a lack of staff.”
“Won’t everybody bring their own?” Stephanie says, “I think it rather outlandish to arrive expecting more than a banquet and games. We will utilise their valets and lady’s maids as comparable to Robin here.” She gestures to Robin who stands by the door to the room.
Julian doesn’t withstand the circumduct roll of his eye. He does manage to resist commenting on how one’s homosexual husband running off with a member of the staff is much more disreputable than one not bringing their own staff member to a dinner party.
“Do you know how many will be coming?” Julian asks, dipping some bacon into his egg yoke before bringing it to his lips.
If someone had asked Lady Button three months ago, (before George’s great escapade) she would have been planning for at least a party of ten and ninety. [100] Now, with a slight sadness, she felt her heart heavy.
To be invited to celebrations of one’s peers was usually a highlight on everyone’s social calendar. Stephanie thought it rather cruel then, that even if she were to advertise her ladyship's birthday, the event was already a victim of ignominious defeat. This was because nobody who wasn’t already close to Lady Katherine, would risk the consequences of attending a social occasion at a location fresh from the wounds of scandal.
There would not be any extra patrons to this party, and it would merely be close family and friends of dear Kitty.
Though it would be pleasant to have such a small gathering, Fanny felt culpable. The notion of a birthday party for a girl like Kitty having a guest list not that dissimilar to that of a family meeting up for a Sunday picnic, was an almost intolerable thought.
“I think in light of recent events it may be smaller than expected,” she said. It wasn’t that they hadn’t had any guests at Button House at all in the last three months, but Stephanie’s social calendar had almost entirely been stripped away. People of whom she considered her nearest and dearest friends had stopped calling, and it had been ages since she had taken a walk around the grounds with someone who wasn’t Julian Fawcett; this was because the guests who were brave enough to enter her home did not want to run the risk of being pictured outside of it.
“I know Lady Kitty will likely bring her friends Alison and Mike, and her sister Eleanor may show. Sir Humphrey Bone is attending and has written to say he looks forward to seeing myself and Katherine. Then of course there are my nephews, Patrick and James. They are both rather fond of their cousin and will definitely make an appearance.”
“Is that all?” Julian wipes his brow, “no offence your ladyship but you cannot call that a party, it’s more of a… ‘pa’.”
“Yes thank you for that rather unhelpful commentary, Julian.”
“Always here to help!”
In the week following Stephanie continued to make arrangements for what she had promised her niece would be the social event of the season. Though it was not to be as huge and grandiose as it would originally have been, she would still ensure Lady Katherine had a celebration befitting a lady of her status. It was not everyday a lady turned two and twenty [22] after all.
In the early weeks of June, the first of the guests would arrive for their stay at Button House. While the birthday itself was not until the 29th day of June, it was customary for the closest relatives to spend time together before the main event.
The 3rd of June saw the arrival of Stephanie’s youngest nephew, Lord Patrick Butcher. A stout man of nine and thirty [39] who always carried a pack of cards in case of - what he called - a ‘boredom emergency’. Though only related by Stephanie’s half sister being Pat’s grandmother, Lady Fanny still had rather a soft spot for the northern man. He was one of the most likeable landowners in Yorkshire, a real stickler for worker's rights and a true man of the people. The citizens who lived on the land Pat oversaw were very lucky indeed.
While Fanny could appreciate tradition, for she very much liked the safety of her own financial pedestal, she knew how close she had been to not having any money at all. Her father, the previous king, was a kind man who ensured she as one of his illegitimate children was looked after, but she oft thought about kings of other lands who perhaps wouldn't have been so kind to their mistress's children.
She, like Lord Patrick, cared about the people who resided in the land they oversaw. Her affection towards her half nephew Lord Patrick significantly increased from the moment he pushed his anti-homelessness campaign. Rather than try to force the homeless people in his land to be homeless elsewhere, he genuinely tried to help those in need. Unlike some of the more evil holds throughout England, Patrick (and Fanny herself) didn’t purposely build anti-homeless structures, and didn’t offer empty promises of support while stealing funding from charities that helped the homeless Lord Patrick took his duty very seriously. It wasn’t a wave of a magic wand but years of sweat and hard work that made Patrick the successful man he is today. The Butchers would spend a month in the county of Surrey, was the only time he took holiday every year, and then he would go back home and continue ensuring everyone residing on his land was thriving happily.
Today however, Patrick arrived at thirteen hundred hours with his wife Lady Carol Butcher, and their seven year old son Daley at the Button House residence as expected. With them they brought two members of staff: Patrick’s valet Barclay, and (as always at the strange request of Carol) their own butler Morris.
“Ello Lady B, how have you been?” Lord Patrick says as he greets the lady of the house. He holds her hand, shaking it gently before pulling her into a gentle embrace.
Patrick was one of the few people who got away with hugging Fanny. A fact that rang true for many people throughout the different holds of England. Many would openly hug Lord Patrick and nobody else. This was attributable to his friendly nature and his lack of threatening demeanour, he was often the first friend one would make during a new crowd and the last person to bid you goodnight as he ensured you got home safely.
“I’m fine thank you,” Fanny said, looking from Pat, to Carol and then to little Daley. “Hello young man,” she said softly to the boy before turning back to the adult company, “I trust the road fared well?”
“It most certainly did, Stephanie,” Lady Butcher said, “we had a rather pleasant stay at a hotel in Cambridge. I must tell you about the most extraordinary dinner we had there. You will be very jealous.”
Stephanie hummed, feigning a kind smile as the other women spoke. For as much as she adored Pat, she still couldn’t make sense of this marriage arrangement as it approached its year twenty. Fanny wondered if (next week when the pair were to celebrate their two decade anniversary of being wed) they were expecting something special.
Of course, her adoration for Patrick had already led her to make adequate preparations. Only a week ago she had asked her cooks Annie and Mary if they would bake a special anniversary cake to that effect, but that was strictly for the sake of Patrick because her dislike for Carol Butcher was deeply rooted.
Though this detestment was not unwarranted, for after finding Carol five years prior in the arms of another man who was not her husband it was hard to trust the other woman with Patrick’s heart again. It had been quite a shock to both Fanny who simply wanted to take an early horse ride into town, and the couple who had been caught off guard amongst the hay.
If it wasn’t for Patrick’s own reputation, and coming off as too soft to keep a lady, then perhaps Stephanie would’ve told her nephew.
Having known Carol since she married Pat when he was nine and ten [19] and Carol herself at one and twenty [21], Stephanie liked to think that this was a momentary blip in their marriage. During the moments following a rather naked man's embarrassing departure from the estate, Lady Butcher had reassured Lady Button that it was merely a moment of misguided passion and that it would not happen again. Fanny had told her quite promptly, that if she was unhappy in her marriage then the very least she could do was remain celibate and focus on the raising of her child, who at the time had only been aged 2.
Carol had hastened to explain how she hoped a child would fix what was wrong with her and Patrick, and Stephanie merely told her to go and make herself look presentable before Sir Patrick and Master Daley returned from their nature walk with Lady Katherine and Sir James. Reminding the brown haired woman that she had a duty as ladyship of the Butcher hold, and that marital problems were for those of lower class.
Stephanie of course knew how it felt to be in a loveless marriage and was by no means a hypocrite. She had planned to stick by George until the air left her lungs. If she could not find happiness in love then she could at least play the role of dutiful Lady Stephanie of Button House until she may rest in her grave. Though in the end it would appear her marriage to George would suffer a similar fate to that of the Carol Butcher issue. Nevertheless, over the last five years when they saw each other every June, Fanny had not been able to start trusting in Carol again.
The recent controversy in her own life only reiterated that Carol Butcher's stable affair was a secret worth keeping for the sake of her nephew. Fanny was now aware of the hurt it would cause to bring up events from that summer, and instead chose to continue keeping it secret. She had been hurt by George leaving and she wasn’t even in love with him, so she hated to imagine how much such a betrayal would hurt Patrick who was clearly still in love with his wife.
“Oh yes, it was marvellous!” Patrick said, adding to his wife's comment about their hotel stay. “But let's get settled first ey pet?” Pat placed his hand affectionately on his wife's upper arm.
“Yes of course,” Fanny said, “I’m afraid we are rather short staffed compared to normal.”
“Well that’s perfectly understandable dearest Stephanie,” Carol said, “I can only imagine what with George leaving, and other workers handing in their notices due to-” The words were only cut off when she realised the look she was getting from her husband.
The nobleman's eyes had widened behind his glasses, and his cheeks were red with embarrassment. He was looking at his wife as though trying to scold her word choice telepathically.
“Oh, sorry Fanny.” Carol said, “I didn’t think.”
“It’s perfectly alright,” says Fanny as she does not wish to cause a scene. Instead, she turns her attention to Robin. “Could you take the Butcher’s horse and carriage to the stable yard please?”
“Yes, my-uh-lady,” says Julian’s right hand man, making his way outside.
“Oh Barclay can help with that, can’t you Barclay?” Carol says, prompting the valet to follow Robin with a simple nod of the head. “-and Morris can take up our bags,” she continues, “pray tell what room are we staying in Stephanie?”
Lord Patrick giggles at that, “oh love, same room as always of course!”
“Yes, the west wing pink room with a double bed and Daley in the adjoining singular,” adds Fanny.
“Of course,” Carol says, “well Morris you know the way.” This prompts the man to take hold of the Butcher family’s luggage and move through to the next room, making his way to the staircase.
“Father, may I say goodbye to Bumble and Bea?” Daley interrupts from where he’s stood by the door, watching Robin and Barclay lead the beloved family horses away.
“Yes of course,” Pat says, “you stick close to Barclay now okay?”
Daley runs out of the doorway excitedly, extremely happy to be away from the boring conversation etiquette of the adults.
“Let’s head into the dining room.” Fanny says, “I fear I’ve left Mr Fawcett alone too long.”
The three of them exit the small entryway and move into a large hall. Its elegance is rather striking to anyone who had the opportunity of entering it. With its large white columns and extravagant open fireplace, the room synchronously holds a tone of both cosy and grandeur that would be befitting to that of royalty. A large patterned decorative rug had been laid out over the original stone floor, complimenting the beautiful fauteuil chairs that are seated above it. Passing the small seating area, they make their way to the dining room to which Lady Carol suddenly veers right from.
“I must powder my nose,” she says, leaving only Fanny and Patrick to greet Julian. The dining room is rather modest in comparison to the last room. To the left there is another door that leads to the yellow day room where Fanny likes to read and partake in games, and on the other side of the table is a door leading outside to the first set of gardens. The natural light that comes through the windowed door leaves the room well lit and pleasant enough for one to make conversation without the need for additional lighting.
“Julian,” Stephanie says, causing the lawyer to stand. “You remember Sir Patrick don’t you?”
“Yes, how could I forget?” Julian lets out an unsure polite laugh, for the last time he had a run in with the man it was at the party in June last year and he had been more than slightly intoxicated. A brief memory of drunkenly telling Pat he was stupid and gullible flickered through his mind followed by memories of being in a drunken and naked embrace with Lady Butcher. “Hello again, Sir Patrick.”
“Nice to see you again, Fawcett.” Patrick shakes the hand offered to him kindly and then moves to his seat. The northern man from Yorkshire certainly wasn’t the type to start drama, but then no one in their sort of company would be the sort to. He would not criticise the words of the once inebriated man, and would keep their little squabble a secret, and to that end Julian would keep his secret of having bedded the man’s wife. Patrick could never know as it would disrupt the equilibrium similar to how George's leaving had.
“Ah Mary! Perfect timing as always,” Fanny says as her head cook, playing maid, entered the room with a silver tray of food for luncheon. She was followed by her wife and co-cook Annie who had a tray of both hot and cold drinks. The silver from the trays refracted the natural sunlight beautifully, causing bright shapes to momentarily dance around the room. Much like everything else in the house, the silver trays were genuine articles as opposed to those who owned copper or nickel items that were merely silver coated. It was irrefutable to say that no matter his intention, Mr George (formerly Sir) had left Lady Button with a large fortune; an actuality the journalists had tried to use as a point
As plates of food ranging from pies and meats to simpler picky foods like crackers and bread with jam were served, Jemima entered the room. Her gown was an exquisite bespoke design made from the finest fabrics, for Fanny only wished the best for her fostered daughter. “Ah, Jemima, Daley had just made his way down to the stables with Robin if you wish to join him.”
Jemima smiled, nodding to show her agreement. The young girl of nine didn’t speak much, though Fanny had often heard her singing nursery rhymes in the comfort of solitary as the youngsters' boudoir was right next to her own. She wouldn’t force the girl into conversation, heaven knows what she had been through.
When Jemima had initially arrived two years ago at the age of seven, George, Julian and Fanny herself had done a lot of research into the girl's origins in the hopes they might reunite her with a member of her family. Unfortunately what the three of them had gleaned from their investigations was not for the faint of heart. It seemed Jemima’s family were among the many fatalities of the strange illness that took the lives of several people in the city of London and some surrounding villages. How Jemima had ended up in Stephanie’s hold was a mystery on its own, though the bruises on the girl's bare feet suggested she had walked for miles. George had allowed the girl to stay on the count of her being almost malnourished and an orphan, and while he cared about her it was Fanny who had rather doted on her. She was the daughter now, plain and simple.
The young girl curtsied as her way of saying hello to both Sir Patrick and Mr Fawcett, and gave a quick kiss to Stephanie’s cheek before leaving the room followed by Mary and Annie.
“Still no luck with her speech then?” Patrick says as the door closes.
“No,” Fanny says, “I shan’t force her either.”
Pat nods as he cuts up a piece of mutton, “it’ll either come or it won’t. It’s nice to see you and her happy either way.”
Lady Button smiles, grateful for her friendship with Patrick. She’s about to speak once more when Mary re-enters the room. She holds a small silver plate, and Fanny presumes it’s something accidentally missed from the plethora of food on the table.
“Sorrys to interrupt ma’am,” Mary says, “it’s just that's the postman ‘as called.”
It is then that Stephanie notices the small silver plate Mary is holding does not house any food, but instead has a letter placed on it and a small paper knife. A red stamp with Lady Katherine’s initials emboldened in the middle of the wax seal is displayed on the back of the envelope glueing its contents shut.
“Ah thank you Mary,” Stephanie says with a smile, taking the envelope off of the tray. “This is all the members of our party arriving today,” Lady Button says gesturing to Patrick, “so please feel free to take the rest of the afternoon off, surprise Annie with those trousers we bought her, yes?”
This sees the maid blushing suddenly, though she keeps her professional manner. “What abouts dinner your Ladyship?”
“Oh we’ll dine out tonight Miss Guppy,” she says, “thank you.”
With that Mary takes her leave promptly, off to tell her wife the good news. She loved her job as a cook, but an afternoon with Annie sounded most gratifying.
“A letter from Lady Katherine,” Fanny says to the gentleman at the table before opening up the envelope. She does this by sliding the knife through the paper so eloquently, as opposed to Patrick who would struggle and swear as he forced the knife through the paper. Mr Fawcett on the other hand would simply forgo the knife and rip the envelope open.
“Oh the birthday girl!” Pat says with a slight giggle at the mention of one of his favourite nieces, “I can’t believe it’s this time of year again already. I remember when she was…well a young girl.”
“Yes I believe she was eight when I first met her,” Julian says, “I have never known a girl to like dance so much. She used to dance a lot with my Rachel.”
“How is Rachel?” Pat asks. He hadn’t seen the Fawcett daughter for years but he knew she continued to reside in London at her father's home. “Will she be coming to Kitty’s birthday bash?”
Even as she read her letter from Kitty Fanny afforded Patrick an eye roll and a dramatic sigh, the term ‘birthday bash’ was rather improper.
Julian giggled, moving his finger across his throat in a cutting motion and sticking his tongue out.
Pat smirked at that, especially when Fanny stomped on his shoe under the table.
“Ow!”
“Don’t be so impudent then, Julian.”
Julian simply waves her off with a nonsensical noise before turning to Patrick. “No she’s not coming, unfortunately,” he says concerning Rachel, “she’s very busy you see and-”
“Oh my!” Fanny exclaims under her breath as she reads her letter.
“What is it?” Patrick asks, “is everything alright?”
“Well it seems…” Lady Button briefly examines the letters' contents once more, her eyes moving over every letter as though burning them into her retina.
Dearest Aunt Fanny,
It is with such delight that I write to you, for I am very much looking forward to seeing you again. It seems like forever since our dinner in January, and so much has happened since. In relation to your last letter I must say dearest aunt that I am not at all ashamed of you or that of Button House. Uncle George’s scandal will not add hinder to our celebrations of my party, and I do not worry what anyone might think! I have always thought of my June’s at your home as my most favourite destination and I will continue to do so. I so look forward to seeing you and everybody else again.
As I turn two and twenty and my study’s of dance soon complete, I am to rejoice in all the positives that have commenced. I believe that you too could take a lesson from this auntie, for where there is heartbreak there are wonderful new beginnings for you.
As always I will be attending Button House with my closest friend Lady Alison Cooper and Sir Mike Cooper. I thank you, as I do every year, for allowing me to bring them with me and for of course always willingly hosting a month of party. I long to be in the day room playing games, and to spend an eve in your cosy library.
At last minute I have a request from you, and although this letter may not reach you in time for you to answer properly I hope it is not an impotence on my part. During my dance study I have met many nice people, including that of Mr Anthony Havers. He too longs for the stage and study’s song and dance the same as I. Normally for the summer months I know he vacations with his sister, but his plans have not come to fruition this year and therefore I have offered for him to join me and the Coopers at Button House. I do hope it is okay I bring him with me, he is such a sweet fellow and I am sure you will like him.
I hope this letter finds you well. All my love.
Kitty Higham xxx
“Yes…” Fanny says, putting down the letter. “I do believe our dear Kitty is bringing along a potential suitor.”
“Oh that’s fantastic news!” Patrick says, “do you think I could walk her down the aisle?”
“I think you might be jumping the gun a bit there, Patrick.” Fanny frowns at him, for her nephew was sweet but got incredibly excited very quickly.
“When isn’t he?” Julian mutters as Patrick goes back to talking about weddings.
The door to the room swings open once more and Carol walks in, moving around the room to take her spot next to her husband. “What’s all this?” she says.
“Kitty is bringing a suitor,” Pat says, his expression happy as he was rather chuffed for his niece.
“Really?” Carol says, looking at Fanny and Julian.
“Well she didn’t quite say-” Lady Button’s words were lost as Julian spoke.
“Oh yeah,” it was as though the lawyer hadn’t heard Fanny speaking at all as he began his ramble. “What is she now? One and twenty, nearly two. Of course she would be bringing home a boy now.”
“What is his name, Fanny?” Patrick asks, "did she say?"
She picks up the piece of paper and glances at the bottom of the letter again, “Mr Anthony Havers.”
“What a handsome name,” Carol says, “is he of nobility?”
Fanny simply puts the letter back down on the table, thinking to herself that it was typical of Carol to first start thinking about what kind of money the boy had. That was probably the only reason she was truly with Patrick in the first place. “She didn’t write about that, though I’m sure we will have plenty of time to get to know him when he gets here.”
“When are they due to arrive?” Julian says after taking a sip from his glass of fizz.
“Tomorrow,” says Fanny, “they should be here tomorrow.”