"You deaf too, now?" Fletcher muttered. He shook his head, growing more and more serious by the second. He thought of Zoey, and the number of times he'd had to fight off her suitors when she clearly wasn't old enough for them. But she'd been eleven, and Neish wasn't so young. She was grown enough, as Theo had reminded him long ago. And he could no more scare off every boy interested in her than he could control the weather. The tension in his shoulders eased. "Well. He tries anything, you know where to find me," he relented, sounding a bit resigned to the idea that he wouldn't in fact be out brawling with some young upstart anytime soon. With one final shake of the head, he turned back to make his coffee.

"Hmm?" The young woman sounded as she brushed past him gracefully to grab a spoon. Aneisha continued to hum and spin through the kitchen, flitting from one spot to the next in a kind of giddy absent-mindedness that gave Theo pause.

Was this what he looked like since accepting not only his love for Fletcher but also being confessed to by the same man? Was he so obvious that anyone with eyes could see he was in love? And as Fletcher had asked...who WAS the boy that had the scullery maid who was a hair width away from bursting into song at any moment.

He felt exhausted already from the possibilities but was far from above using the current uncertainty and curiosity as an excuse to look for treats.

"You hear that?" Fletch interjected. "She called me young." He ignored Kenna's knife as he always did. The day she actually used it on him was the day he ate his boots for breakfast. He did, however, turn and deliver Aneisha a suspicious little look that quickly settled into something a bit more dangerous. "Who's the boy, Neish?" he asked.

Kenna eyed Fletcher with deep suspicion and pointed her knife warningly at him. "I'll be havin' none of ye mischief today, Young Jack. I got baking' ta do and her Ladyship changed the Yule party menu again af'r I jus' placed me order wit' da butcher. I now have to figure out how to turn a suckling pig inta a goose—eh! None of those sad eyes Mister Theodore. I'll make it work. I always do."

Theo grimaced all the same giving Fletcher a displeased look over his mother's inconsiderate nature when Aneisha popped in from outside looking decidedly rosy-cheeked and bright eyed.

"Good afternoon, Teddy, Jack, Miss Kenna~" she chirped with an obvious bounce in her step. She flitted about the room, humming softly as she went about her chores and grinning such a cheerful grin that even Theodore watched her in surprise. 

"Oh, you wound me, sir," Fletch said as they stepped out of the room. "'Course I can steal a fucking mug." He allowed Theo to lead the way and assumed his usual stiff posture, hands behind his back and expression stoic. He'd both wanted and not wanted the nobleman to join him. He couldn't get enough of the man's company, it was true. The only time he'd ever say no to it was if he'd been put so out of sorts by the day's events that he needed his space. But it was going to be a harder crawl back out of the depths he'd let himself succumb to, that was for damned sure. 

As they stepped into the kitchen, he circled back around towards the kettle and got it started. "Afternoon," he greeted Kenna with what he hoped was his winningest smile.

His eyes lit up at the mention of Aya but Theo wisely kept from commenting too much and risking upsetting Fletcher over his late husband's dog. "Come along then. I'll nick some sugar cubes for the horses too. I'm sure they're going just as stir crazy as we are without all the trips to town. If you're sky maybe you can abscond with one of Kenna's mugs and some coffee too keep warm outside too?"

Fletcher's eyebrows raised, his left peeking above the eyepatch. He shoved his hands in his pockets and graced Theo with a lengthy stare. "Yes you do, you little shit," he muttered at last. "You're welcome to join if you like. Could go see the dog, I suppose, or walk the perimeter. ...Anything but this," he added with a soft laugh.

"We already know how good you are at getting me flat on my back, yes. I still have much in the way of balance and footwork to go. I can only imagine my horror and your amusement should I ever end up on a ship at sea. You can just peel me off the floor when we make port."

He got to his feet and made to brush imaginary dust and wrinkles out of his clothes. "Would you like to walk alone or is the company welcome? I don't wish to...irritate, you further."

"Yeah, we'll see who's laughing about it later," Fletch shot back with an indignant jut of the chin. "But, no...cold's a good idea. And you know it's bad if I've said it. No bollocks left to use if they freeze off, right?" He sighed, shook his head, and rose gingerly to his feet. "This is madness," he muttered, more to himself than to Theo, though he did glance over at the man as he said it, expression a strange mingling of exasperation and lovesickness. "Absolute madness. You, er, want to come with? Or stay here?"

"Is it too cold for a walk? I'd suggest sparring but I think that would make things worse," he giggled. "But if you need to excuse yourself I understand. I can go back to reading until dinner."