Theodore let out a gruffly sigh as he watched Madame work at brewing him a cup of his usual herbal tea. He tried to focus more on her wavering hands clutching the ceramic saucer instead of on the fact that a certain someone who he'd expected to be attending to him was indeed absent. Not even a whiff of her was felt. Like she'd burrowed herself in a corner at the mansion.

His thoughts were distracted by the crushing sound of ceramics to the floor. Shattered to pieces were the cup that once held his tea and a trembling woman bent on her knees in quick motion picking up the pieces while rendering apologies his way.

"You seem stressed out, Madame, you should've left things to the younger ones,"

"No I'm okay, I just—just got distracted."

"Seems like it and the fact that you're jittery. Have you been taking your meds?" He offered her his sincerest expression, knowing fully well she'd suffered from Parkinson's in the past. It was probably growing more obvious as she aged.

"I'm fine Master, there's absolutely nothing to worry about_"

"Not from what I've seen for myself lately, I'm not threatening to retire you, barely reminding you to take proper care of yourself because if you don't, it inadvertently affects the running of the mansion. And I can't have that."

She let go of her breath and stood with the broken piece wrapped in a white cloth.

"Will I get to drink that?" He questioned when she stood there moping at him. His words ignited a rush of awareness in Madame who scampered to set the kettle on fire, but before she left the dining room, Theodore stopped her with his next question.

"I haven't heard or seen Ms. Author, she was supposed to serve me,"

Madame managed a tight smile as she swirled to come face to face with him. "Yes, she's been occupied with taking care of the baby and some other stuff. I bet she needs more of that for herself," she chipped in, desperately hoping he'd end there. But he didn't.

"Why? Why would you say that? Is she ill?"

"Oh not physically, there are other measures that could tag one unhealthy."

"She ignored my requests to see her last night, today as well," he sucked in air between his teeth. "Might it be this illness of hers that's kept her from responding?"

"Master," Madame began, hoping to set things straight before it went awry. She tugged on the last hope that her favorite cousin would once heed her warnings as she spoke. "Maybe you should let her be," She came closer with an empty teacup, saucer rattling under the rims of the cup. "As much as she's a distraction, she isn't the best, not like Lady Hobart. Jema... is unstable,"

Theodore stood, face blank like a fresh page. "Where's she?"

"Master_"

"Where is she?" He repeated, this time more sternly.

"Her quarters, but I wouldn't advise you_"

"Thanks for the advice, Madame. I'll leave you to clear this up."
She watched him shove his large form into his thick suave jacket, making him look more like the commander he was. Underneath the black suit, he wore well ironed blue sleeves with navy blue tie that could only be purchased in the kind of stores he and few other men frequented when on trips. Theodore wasn't much of a trendy look guy, but he wore what fit him and what fit him was elegance in its finest.

With frustration Jema tore the inked leaf from the book spread open on her mattress whilst she lounged around carefully orchestrating a better request to her boss. Well, after Madame had intercepted the previous one and Theodore reminding her of it, she'd stayed awake to reform and refurbish the list while highlighting the need to return to Hartwood as soon as possible to finally put an end to Jacob's misery.

She needed to bury him, to let him rest. But it wouldn't deter her quest for Justice on his behalf, she only felt troubled that his repeated appearances in her dream meant he needed closure. One more thing she hadn't thought of before now irked her.

It was Sister Mary-Anthony, Jacob's supposed step sister or relative. In whatever way they'd known each other, Jema had written to her severally after her last visit detailing her intentions to have Jacob buried right there in the monastery but there was no response from the Nun. It wasn't right to conduct a burial without her approval as well and Jema was only being courteous to her late husband's only relative. Her silence was deafening, more threatening than anything. Jema grew desperate for some answers which she never got from the Nun anyways.

She stared at the blank sheet and at her stuffed travel bag by the foot of the bed and wondered if the master would take lightly to her request. A soft knock came on the door as her thoughts drifted, Jema without caring to put on her robe flew to the door, as if she'd been expecting someone and stood frozen at the uncanny encounter.

"Sir," she breathed with wide eyes. Certainly the last person she'd expect and at such an odd hour. Her senses piqued as soon as his eyes darkened with ravishing desire, strolling carefully through her lightly cladded body. "Umm, excuse me," she rushed inside for her coat and managed to shrug it on before spinning around to find an intimidatingly dark Theo admiring the withins of her room.

She felt exposed, unguarded and unsure why.

"Are you planning on running off again like before?" He raised a brow.

Barely registering his words. "Huh?"

"The travel bag, and the littering of papers like you're writing your goodbyes. I hope it's not as I suspect."

"Oh, no!" Jema gushed and held her chest as understanding finally came. "Those are... well not entirely wrong. Actually I meant to have a word with you about some adjustments,"

"Adjustments?"

"Yeah, I would have handed them to you as a list but..." she gestured to the littering of papers. "No matter how I tried to phrase it, I still sounded selfish."

"Perhaps we should speak in my..." he waited, watching as if he was waiting for her to fill in the blank. "My office," his starkly scrutinizing eyes roamed her room once again before heading out, Jema contemplated putting on something more proper but decided against it altogether.

"Why have you ignored my summons Ms. Author?" His sudden switch to formalities had Jema stopping at the door to his office. He'd swung it wide open before turning to throw her off with his cold demeanor. "Perhaps you've forgotten who pays you and who's roof you live under." He clipped, steadily pinning her with his hard gaze.

"Uh... I'm sorry sir, I had a bad day."

"Yes?..."
And when no further words followed suit, he waltzed into his large home office like some soldier marching for battle.

She entered and waited while he shuffled through the room, tipping, ruffling and brushing at every material like he'd lost some relevant thing. "I apologize for my inaction, I didn't mean it in a disrespectful way. I only had_"

"—Perhaps a night spent in my bedroom had given you the image that I am to be taken for granted Ms. Author?" He scoffed and muttered to himself. "If you could call it that, scampering off like a charged dog,"

"I apologize for that too..." she whispered.

"Might do better to explain why," With one hand on the desk supporting his form, he gestured with the other. "I'm a concise man who reads the room anywhere I find myself and I understand you wanted as much as I did, so tell me why I had to be embarrassed by your ineptitude?!" He barked, veins popping on his temples.

"It wasn't meant to happen that way I promise, I was just embarrassed,"

"By me?!" He seethed.

"No... not by you. I wouldn't be, I miscalculated that's all."

"For God'sake woman, don't patronize me! I can hold my own." His frustration was already at its peak, he shoved repeatedly at his styled locks.

Jema couldn't help it anymore, the pressure from him could down any form of embarrassment she thought she'd felt. "I was on my period," the walls of the room seemed to thin as quietness took over. "I only realized it half way down and I regretted leading you on like that. I'm sorry,"

"Puta," Theodore exclaimed gently, his tense muscle relaxed and the dreadful darkness around him simmered down. "Go change your clothes, we have somewhere to go to," he nodded at her, waiting as she took in his words and acted on it by slowly exiting the room leaving him all alone to gather his thoughts.