01-07-2020, 05:53 AM
Gardener? Well, it was a good enough profession, wasn't it? Jules rasied a skeptical eyebrow, though he had nothing to be skeptical about, truly. Didn't he? A simple gardener come to have his footwear fixed up, nothing unusual about that. Trudging through some rich fellow's fancy grounds day in, day out was bound to leave a pair of shoes wanting a bit of attention. And yet, as reasonable an answer as it was, Jules couldn't help but take a small sip of hot tea, pursing his lips to blow in manner seemingly too delicate for a man with a body made thick and hardened by decades of labor.
"A gardener?" Asa replied, dark eyes twinkling. Jules could already feel the tension in his gut begin to grow.
"Oy, me, I don't do much but help out my dear old brother, you understand," the younger brother laughed, offering Jules's guest his appropriately sugared tea. "Still finding my place in the world, searching out that definition of mine, you see. But you, Mr Ireland, you've found a nice profession beautifying a blessed man's shrubbery collection, have you? Very impressive, indeed."
Impressive was certainly an interesting choice of words, Jules thought. He cleared his throat, hoping to interrupt Asa's runaway conversational train, but such subtleties were lost on the younger Everett.
"You work for one of the lovely families on the coast?" Asa pried. Surely anyone with the means to afford a gardener was just well off enough to invite Asa's attention. He'd been planning on paying a visit to at least one of those oustentatious seaside manors soon enough, but if he could make a friend on the inside? Well, all the better.
The older Everett's ears pricked up. As unfond he was of his brother's prying, he had to admit curiosity ate at him with a voracious appetite.
"You've been working as a gardener long, Mr Ireland?" Jules added on. Despite the odd attire and cane, the stranger didn't appear to be all that aged, perhaps not any older than Asa.
"I'm sure once my lovely brother has finished spiffin' up those shoes of yours, he'd be happy to see some of your work," Asa added. "Few sights more lovely than a nicely trimmed rose bush."
"A gardener?" Asa replied, dark eyes twinkling. Jules could already feel the tension in his gut begin to grow.
"Oy, me, I don't do much but help out my dear old brother, you understand," the younger brother laughed, offering Jules's guest his appropriately sugared tea. "Still finding my place in the world, searching out that definition of mine, you see. But you, Mr Ireland, you've found a nice profession beautifying a blessed man's shrubbery collection, have you? Very impressive, indeed."
Impressive was certainly an interesting choice of words, Jules thought. He cleared his throat, hoping to interrupt Asa's runaway conversational train, but such subtleties were lost on the younger Everett.
"You work for one of the lovely families on the coast?" Asa pried. Surely anyone with the means to afford a gardener was just well off enough to invite Asa's attention. He'd been planning on paying a visit to at least one of those oustentatious seaside manors soon enough, but if he could make a friend on the inside? Well, all the better.
The older Everett's ears pricked up. As unfond he was of his brother's prying, he had to admit curiosity ate at him with a voracious appetite.
"You've been working as a gardener long, Mr Ireland?" Jules added on. Despite the odd attire and cane, the stranger didn't appear to be all that aged, perhaps not any older than Asa.
"I'm sure once my lovely brother has finished spiffin' up those shoes of yours, he'd be happy to see some of your work," Asa added. "Few sights more lovely than a nicely trimmed rose bush."
