Ronald Knox Black Butler Novels & Stories

They knock on the door twice and it opens wide before a man who looks like he is in his mid forties, comes into their view. "Good morning, Mr. Taylor! This is my daughter, Itzel! You could not meet her yesterday, right?" Mrs. Singh rants on. "And Itzel, this is Tyberius Taylor! Our new butler here." She introduces him to her. But Itzel keeps her scrutinizing gaze on that poor man who keeps on shifting on his feet while gulping visibly.

Blake explained. This news calmed Robert, and he settled back into his chair. “I need to know, do you have any connections with the cultivating society? The butler was a practitioner with my run-in with the Shuler family’s second Eric.” Blake said. “Sam Nantes? He is a practitioner?” Seeing his grandfather’s face, he could tell this was his first hearing about the butler’s identity.

“Butler Gold…” Clifford turned his head to look at the middle-aged man, feeling a little excited and agitated! Butler Gold, or Hubert Gold, was the head of the Gold family's housekeepers. He was responsible for all matters in the Gold household and had served Jameson Gold for 30 years! Disregarding the fact that he held the title of a butler, he was the most respected person in Jameson’s eyes. His status in the Gold family was solidly above the rest!

"Sarah, why don't you go say ur byes byes and pick up your belongings. Don't let us delay this fine gentleman. No?" Sarah nodded in response, leaving them behind. A few minutes passed, yet Sarah was yet to come out "Sorry to ask, who are you to the Ragon family?" Linda asked, trying to break the awkward silence. "A Butler." James replied. Linda was surprised. A Butler wasn't really important nowadays, but yet the fact that a Butler was sent to pick Sarah up meant two things. Either Sarah wasn't of much importance to them, or the Butler was some kind of high post within the Ragon family.

IVY POV We drove in silence for a while, the hum of the Mercedes the only sound. My hands gripped my bag in my lap, my mind spinning a million miles an hour. Finally, the man broke the silence. “I’m Walter… Butler, bodyguard to Ronan Hale,” he said, giving me a small smile. “You can call me Walt.” I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. “Okay… Walt.” “You seem tense,” he said, his voice calm, almost gentle. “I understand. Thank you for doing