The League of Meddling Butlers https://amzn.to/3UKfVF7
It all started quite innocently, as most preposterous schemes do.
Six highly placed butlers who’d come to know one another over the years began to think, quite rightly, that they could benefit from trading tips. All those secrets to running an elevated household which had been close-held were now to be shared with a half-dozen select and elite colleagues.
Mr. Harkinson, Mr. Wilburn, Mr. Penny, Mr. Rennington, Mr. Browning, and Mr. Feldstaffer emanated from estates over the length and breadth of England and might never have encountered one another. Fortunately, they all managed their London houses from the genial environs of Grosvenor Square. They had found it the simplest thing in the world to stroll along the paths of the square of an afternoon to take the air and trade in knowledge.
Over time, they rented obscure rooms in Cheapside and began to meet regularly, every Thursday afternoon during the season. Once having an actual headquarters, they’d instantly seen that they needed to name the thing and began calling themselves The League. Then, they had discreet gold bands made, inscribed on the inside with their motto, Cum Virtute, Latin for With Valor.
The butlers kept it all between themselves, as they felt exclusivity and confidentiality was their right. As well, being in a secret society was always a bit thrilling.
The butlers of The League grew very comfortable in their secret society and found their ideas about how to manage their various families’ arrangements somehow expanding into how to manage the families themselves. They had started small. Could one steer his duke toward light German wines in the hotter months? Could another push his earl to rebuild the estate’s kennels further from the house? Could yet another press his mistress to take her pert lady’s maid in hand?
Finding success in these areas naturally led to thinking other thoughts. They all could not fail to notice that the families they served had children. They had been with those children since the day they came into the world. Those children were growing year by year. Those children would marry, which could be a rather fraught roll of the dice. They were fond of those children and now their very futures hung in the balance!
Should not The League step in? Should they not bring their knowledge and experience to bear? Should they not hint, suggest, push, and press in what they deemed a suitable direction? Did they not have information regarding every eligible gentleman and lady in London through their vast networks of servants and webs of connections?
It began to feel as if they would be remiss in their duty if they did not take the matter in hand.
And so they did, with predictably ridiculous results.
It all started quite innocently, as most preposterous schemes do.
Six highly placed butlers who’d come to know one another over the years began to think, quite rightly, that they could benefit from trading tips. All those secrets to running an elevated household which had been close-held were now to be shared with a half-dozen select and elite colleagues.
Mr. Harkinson, Mr. Wilburn, Mr. Penny, Mr. Rennington, Mr. Browning, and Mr. Feldstaffer emanated from estates over the length and breadth of England and might never have encountered one another. Fortunately, they all managed their London houses from the genial environs of Grosvenor Square. They had found it the simplest thing in the world to stroll along the paths of the square of an afternoon to take the air and trade in knowledge.
Over time, they rented obscure rooms in Cheapside and began to meet regularly, every Thursday afternoon during the season. Once having an actual headquarters, they’d instantly seen that they needed to name the thing and began calling themselves The League. Then, they had discreet gold bands made, inscribed on the inside with their motto, Cum Virtute, Latin for With Valor.
The butlers kept it all between themselves, as they felt exclusivity and confidentiality was their right. As well, being in a secret society was always a bit thrilling.
The butlers of The League grew very comfortable in their secret society and found their ideas about how to manage their various families’ arrangements somehow expanding into how to manage the families themselves. They had started small. Could one steer his duke toward light German wines in the hotter months? Could another push his earl to rebuild the estate’s kennels further from the house? Could yet another press his mistress to take her pert lady’s maid in hand?
Finding success in these areas naturally led to thinking other thoughts. They all could not fail to notice that the families they served had children. They had been with those children since the day they came into the world. Those children were growing year by year. Those children would marry, which could be a rather fraught roll of the dice. They were fond of those children and now their very futures hung in the balance!
Should not The League step in? Should they not bring their knowledge and experience to bear? Should they not hint, suggest, push, and press in what they deemed a suitable direction? Did they not have information regarding every eligible gentleman and lady in London through their vast networks of servants and webs of connections?
It began to feel as if they would be remiss in their duty if they did not take the matter in hand.
And so they did, with predictably ridiculous results.