The butler turned quickly, in part to hide his look of relief. He was fairly certain he had found something juicy on the master should things turn south, and he wanted to rifle through some more to make certain.

Zechariah, meanwhile, was not relieved to be summoned. He was beginning to wonder if someone a little less... mustached? might make a better butler for him.

Purely merit-based ponderings, of course.

The butler made himself scarce once Zechariah was in eye-contact range of the workman.

“Is there a problem?” he asked immediately with a sour look... then squinted.

Was this the workman? He thought he would be uglier older.