Christopher strutted into the Larkins' house, a lazy smile rested on his face as a form of greetings to the maids who were squealing and smiling at him as he walked by.
"Mr Lancaster," the head butler greeted, and Christopher flinched.
"Stop popping out on people out of nowhere, James. It's creepy."
"It's Master brown, Christopher. I've been saying this for over 30 years now,"
Christopher smiled mischievously and shrugged. James was easily riled up by what he deems as inappropriate manners and address, all he deems inappropriate were all Christopher's favourite things to do.
He tucked his hands into his pockets, and reeled in satisfaction at the glare James shot at his hands; he believed that a proper gentleman should not tuck his hands into his pockets when addressing another.
