The Lord's Nephew Pays a Visit

"Samuels, what day is it today?" Inquired the Lord in a bored tone, barely glancing up from his tea and newspaper.

"Tuesday, sir," replied Dominic from his position on the floor, continuing to polish the Lord's shoes.

"Tuesday?" The Lord sounded suddenly very much alarmed. "But that means..."

"I'M HERE!!!!" Sounded the excruciatingly chipper and wholly unwelcome voice of the Lord's nephew from the manor's front hall.

Sir Andrew, the fop, had arrived.

With a groan, the Lord hauled himself to his feet and strode out of his study onto the second floor landing, with Dominic trailing at a deferential distance. The Lord peered down at his nephew and rather failed to suppress a shudder of horror at the riot of colors and patterns the lad was sporting. Sir Andrew, oblivious to his favorite uncle's disapproval, sang up in a breathy tenor voice "Oh hello Uncle! It's so lovely to see you again! Thank you so much for inviting me here!"

In fact, the Lord had done no such thing. Sir Andrew's bimonthly visits were not prompted by the Lord's hospitality as much as the Lady Rose's grim fascination with him, coupled with the Lord's concern for his sister - Andrew's mother's -  mental health when confined with the lad over extended periods of time.

The Lord grunted, then mustered the manners to respond. "Hello, lad. It's ERHURHUM to see you. Samuels will provide you some refreshments, should you desire them."

He immediately regretted this this offer when his nephew replied "Oh that's awfully kind of you, Uncle. I'm so hungry, I could eat a penis!"  

The Lord's face began to turn increasingly alarming shades of purple, until Dominic began to worry that Mrs Matthews had finally been successful in her lifelong quest to turn a person into jam. He also worried that perhaps he should intervene before Sir Andrew said something that would literally send his uncle into cardiac arrest. He did not worry that Sir Andrew might notice his uncle's silence and take offense at it. He wasn't even sure if Sir Andrew was capable of negative emotions.

Fortunately, the moment was saved when Sir Andrew noticed the Lady Rose poking her head out of a darkened corner and staring unblinkingly at him. His smile widened until every tooth in his mouth was visible, and then cried "Oh hello Auntie Rose! How are you today?"

The Lady hissed and retreated several steps into the shadows, clawing the air as she went. Sir Andrew laughed and clapped his hands in delight.  

Over the next several days, the Manor settled back into its routine, adjusting to the presence of Sir Andrew almost, though not entirely, as easily as it had to the sudden appearance of a crashed steam engine in the dining room several weeks earlier.

Sir Andrew spent his days blissfully floating from room to room, cheerfully getting underfoot and trying the patience of everyone he came across. Lauretta was particularly vexed by his presence after her initial attempts at flirting with the lad were rebuffed, as he blithely informed her that he preferred his girls with a heftier stock of facial hair.

The Lady occupied herself by surreptitiously following her nephew around as he fopped about, muttering darkly and taking notes in a leather-bound book.  When she observed him removing a large, hairy spider from the blood-drenched web it had woven over his pillow, whirling it about and singing an unfamiliar and sickeningly uplifting song, before depositing the creature safely on a tree branch outside his window, the Lady's body was wracked with spasms and she let out a horrific death knell.

When Sir Andrew then sweetly thanked his aunt for the 'lovely harmonization to his song', and she began frothing at the mouth, the Lord decided that it was time to send his nephew home.  He popped the youth into a carriage, was thanked for a splendid visit six or seven hundred times, kissed on the mouth, and bid adieu before he sent the lad on his merry way. When the carriage was out of sight, the Lord breathed a sigh of relief and briefly considered moving far away before his nephew could return, though he quickly dismissed the idea. It would be too much of a hassle, he determined, and though he would never admit it, he was truly quite fond of the boy.