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[Patiently awaiting your orders, swaying slightly.]

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<333! Wickham! *le sigh*

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[Standing at attention, his eyes flicker briefly to Wickham's before he nods his head, blinking a little deliberately, colour rising in his cheeks.] Yes, fine, sir.

[Luckily for Thomas, the rules of etiquette state that, when answering his superiors, he's to say as little as possible so as not to waste their valuable time, and thus avoiding any awkward conversations.]

He is wonderful.

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[A rather wicked smiled crossed his face, he could see the colour, he could see how carefully he is holding him self. He smirked before saying in a low, soothing voice] At ease. No need to be so very formal with me.

Especially when you're clearly not fine. Fine would not even begin to cover how you are, you're positively flushed. [He grinned his tone had made that sound very much like he was about to tell Thomas he was "Better than fine, he's Fantastic" or "Stunning" but with a quick change to flushed]

Are you ill?

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No, sir, I'm not ill. [Which isn't to say there isn't *something* wrong with him.]

[But Thomas doesn't relax his stance, shifting only to better find his center of gravity, his white-gloved hands clenched firmly behind his back.] His Lordship has instructed that I act as your valet during your stay, sir. If there's anything you need...

[And if there isn't, Thomas can only hope he'll have mercy on him and send him away.]

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[Wickham smiled leaning closer, invading Thomas' personal space] Have you been drinking my dear fellow?

Or is it a man in uniform that makes you flush so?

[He chuckled continuing as if he hadn't just asked what he had he continued] My Valet, excellent. In which case If you could help with my uniform that would be appreciated. The button's can be quiet a fiddle.

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[It's a testament to Thomas' stoicism that he barely bats an eyelid, standing as rigidly as possible. Of course, it does nothing to hide the flush spreading from his face to turn his ears and the back of his neck a bright shade of red. He stutters slightly, clearing his suddenly dry throat.] N-no, sir. Nothing of the sort.

[Thomas' eyes flicker down to look at the said buttons, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he sets his jaw, nodding his head firmly.] As you wish, sir.

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[He smiled watching Thomas, he did so enjoy playing with him] Shame [He offered with a sigh, not specifying to what he thought was a shame] Perhaps I should have asked for the other young man. Perhaps he would have been more, receiving.

[He grinned letting his fingers absently, briefly brush against Thomas' jaw] Are you sure you are well? You seem tense.

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[He doesn't flinch away as he probably should, just resumes his careful and precise undoing of the buttons on Wickham's jacket with a wholly unnecessary amount of focus.] It's up to you, of course, sir. I can have William sent for, if you'd prefer.

[He swallows thickly at the question, briefly catching Wickham's eye.] Perfectly well, thank you, sir.

[Though, from this distance, Wickham can probably smell the alcohol on Thomas' breath.]

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[He grinned, still invading Thomas' personal space far more than needed] You seemed more fun, [A deep sigh] if only you were willing to share whatever it was you were drinking.

Perhaps I should take a leaf from Shakespeare's Juliet book, see if there is a single drop left to steal from upon your lip.

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I... [Thomas meets his eyes steadfastly, his own eyes wide -- with panic? It isn't clear -- but he keeps his hands pressed to Wickham's chest, loosely holding on to the buttons of his coat.] I... wouldn't advise it, sir.

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[Wickham lays the tone of disappointment heavy onto his voice] Such a shame, you do have beautiful lips. But, if you advise against. Who am I to disagree with such a Gentleman.

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[Swallowing thickly, Thomas wordlessly moves behind him and helps to slip his arms from the sleeves of the coat before draping it across his arm, awaiting further instructions.] Will that be all, sir?

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I believe that is all you're willing to give...... I shall prepare for bed. If you could bring me two glasses....

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[He bows his head, excusing himself.] Right away, sir.

[But he doesn't to fetch the glasses as quickly as he could, having to stumble to a halt halfway down the corridor, bracing one hand against the wall while he rubs the over his flushed face. Ugh, if ever there was a time he could do with more to drink, this would be it.]

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[Wickham chuckled watching him leave as he finished undressing so that he was wearing only a loosely tied robe wondering if it would get a rise from the footman]