"Oh," she commented looking the man up and down before pouting slightly. "Does this mean I'll see less of you Jack? I always feel safest when you're on duty."

Theo adopted a fake smile to keep from rolling his eyes. "Mr. Daw will be doubling with Mr. Truckett until he learns the routines and comings and goings here. After the ball, the Baron wants to ensure our utmost safety, my dear. Trust you are in good hands.

"Now then, have you eaten? I had Mr. Truckett check on it for us but it seems to be taking a moment. Mr. Daw if you'd be so kind as to escort me to check on it?"

"Oh surely you can have Mr. Trucker escort you dearest? Uh it's just I have something to discuss with Mr. Daw."

"I'm afraid it's the Baron's orders that I be accompanied at all times," Theo said easily, determined to not break his promise and to keep Fletcher from being caught alone with her. "And Mr. Truckett is still not familiar with everything here. You don't mind do you?"

"...no of course not," she replied faking a tight smile that turned to a sneer the moment his back was turned on her.

He nodded to Fletcher to follow him as he made a hasty retreat from the room. Theo did not immediately head to the kitchen however and instead walked down the hall to where one of the house's washrooms were. He looked around to see if anyone was around and then suddenly yanked Fletcher into a closet.

The moment the door closed he embraced him warmly and closely. "Good morning, my heart," he whispered against the man's ear. 

Fletcher shot Theo a scathing look. "Bollocks," he muttered, but that was the end of his protest. Instead he watched the two perform their strange, stiff dance of make-believe affection, careful to hold his disinterested expression steady. Already, though, that smugness rose in him again. He's mine, he thought as he indulged in a memory or two of the night prior. He thought of the ball, too, and how he'd been so rotten with envy at what he'd seen. And now... He's really mine.

He snapped back to the present as Edwina sighted the bait and now watched her with keen interest. Your moment to shine, Sparkles, Fletch thought. Sure enough, Neal rose to his feet, hands clasped behind his back, the picture of a gentleman. "Neal Truckett, Miss. I'm a bodyguard to Master Theodore. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Fletch begrudgingly admired the way he said it: with just enough of a note of warmth to hook the girl while passing it all off as professional. Theo could hear none of it, of course, but Fletch knew the sound of a flirt working his magic. Maybe he'd chosen well after all, in spite of the many risks. 

"Just hired him on," he added gruffly, still playing his part and more than happy to throw a measure of his disregard for her into his tone. "You'll be seeing him around on shift, I expect, as we fit Mr. Truckett into the mix."

"If there's anything I can do to make your time here more pleasant you need only voice it and I'll see what I can do. Mr. Daw can attest to that given he is unused to our seasonably colder weather and requires more and more blankets at night."

Theo smiled fondly at the men and had opened his mouth to say more when in bounced his fiance. "Oh Theodore darling I'm so sorry I'm late—look at you!" Edwina exclaimed as the nobleman stood to greet her. They exchanged cheek kisses as she fawned excessively over his appearance.

"Oh and who might this be? Jack I know, but I don't think we've met sir?"

Neal glanced uncertainly between Theo and Fletch, to which Fletcher simply raised an expectant eyebrow. The man acted and pretended every night of his life. Surely a little boring noble speak wasn't that confusing. Or maybe there was less blood to the man's brain sitting up as opposed to laying on his back. 

"I did," Neal replied carefully. "It is. It's very quiet here," he added. "It's not at all what I'm accustomed to. I'm sure I'll adjust in time."

He blushed deeper at the praise, his features softening some. "Thank you. A shame then I don't look better out of it," he added quickly with a little smirk, knowing Fletcher didn't have time to reply back.

Theo smiled at Neal's entrance as if welcoming an old friend. "You find my days are indeed very much filled with a great deal of hustle and wait. My bride-to-be is the far more social one. I have no idea how she manages it, she is truly a marvel. Did you sleep well Mr. Truckett? Is your housing to your liking?"

"'Course not, Master Archer, sir. Perish the thought."

"Yeah, but you like it," he signed with a smug tilt of the head. The look quickly went sheepish as he continued. "Red looks good on you. So does pink. Can't blame a man, can you?"

Footsteps echoed down the hall and he straightened up faster than a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, crossing his legs a little tighter as he did. "Someone's coming," he warned before throwing one arm over the back of the chaise, looking pointedly away from Theo, and feigning another nail inspection. When he glanced ever-so-casually up at the door, he was somewhat relieved to see that it was just Neal.

"Food's already done?" Fletch grunted. "Must be a record."

"Oh, no. I just prefer it up here," Neal replied with that same catlike air. He made a show of taking a turn about the room, hands behind his back as he inspected every curio. Fletch wondered if he was casing the joint, the way he considered things that seemed at surface level to be more valuable. Yet another issue to keep an eye on with the man, he decided. At last, Neal sauntered back around and lowered himself gracefully into a chair near Fletcher's corner. "I suppose we wait," he said, and settled in to watch the door.

"Suppose we do," Fletch replied.

His eyes widened some and his cheeks flushed. Theo had to look away first and lost this round. Fletcher had called him a tart right in broad daylight where anyone could hear. Anyone that is who knew it was Theo being referenced.

"How pragmatic of you, Mr. Daw. It's good to see you settling in here. See that you don't get too comfortable so that security lapses."

"You're the absolute worst...bastard man."

Fletcher wheezed out a cocky little chuckle. He'd sorely missed their banter. Now that they both knew what the other wanted, it seemed to have taken on a pointed air, like little arrows fired while no one else was the wiser, and each one that struck was an affirmation of what they now were. He brushed off Theo's empty threat. "Well, I'm sure my regular tart will miss me," he sighed, making a show of picking at his nails, "but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for poor Tiff and his poor family."

He crossed one leg over the other, eye flicking to the door and back again. He wondered if it would be easier to act distant with others in the room. "N' it's never a problem, sir. Matter of fact, I hope we see more of her. Really help her get acquainted with the staff. She ought to feel comfortable, you know."

Theo hissed softly and turned as red as his outfit. "The whole house need not know what I get up to by candlelight," he whispered. "You leave my innocent books out of this lest you find yourself with all night shifts. I'm sure Tiff would adore more evenings at home with his loving wife and family."

He took his usual seat at the piano but sat with his back to it. "As long as she desires. This is to be her future home after all. Will that be a problem?"

"Mm. Yeah. Well. That's what happens when you stay up late filling your head with pirate bollocks. Sounds like a real page turner, that one." Self-satisfied with his own cleverness, Fletch wandered lazily to his usual chaise in the corner and flopped down to lounge against the armrest. He checked the open door before taking one selfish moment to drink in the sight of the man. "I'm sure she'll like what she sees, sir," he replied with a twitch of an eyebrow. "How long is she sticking around today?"