He looks uncomfortable. "I think if I gave you the young lady's name I might lose the right to admit to being upset. Yes, well," he answers, thoroughly annoyed with Lucius, which catalyzes a lower eyelid into doing something of a jig, "I hardly expected an outright apology, but if he'd given the slightest indication of its having been a slip rather than a decision that he had the right to make and that I was being childish to object to, it would have felt like less of a trap." Feeling the ghost of that strangling feeling crawling back in on him, he tugs at his collar and controls his breathing. Nice and slow. Chamomile's not enough and he's off valerian, which needs time to build a level, so he has to breathe properly and count.
"I don't know how Lucius has managed so far without an elf, but I do know that Dobbs would never forgive me if I even tried to deliver one of his fellows into Malfoy hands. Other than that, no. I could ask Black, I suppose, but although he's not malicious I don't know that he'd think much better of Winky than Kreacher, if she once started mourning Bartemius aloud." He frowns thoughtfully. "What about a... a day program? A few hours a day serving a household, if she's sober the preceding day, perhaps as a transition to being placed with a family once she's fit for it again?"