It had taken quite an effort on his part, but Regulus had convinced his mother to busy herself with visits and general socialite duties during the day so that he could open the home to tea with his cousin. Just the two of them. Mostly. His father was still upstairs, wilting in his bed, and Kreacher was there to help prepare and would remain at-the-ready to serve the tea. But to have his mother there as well--she'd really only ruin the entire event. So, in the sweetest voice he could muster, Regulus politely and delicately suggested she go elsewhere so that he could spend one-on-one time with his beloved cousin, reminding her that they would only be discussing the trivial matters of children (as Walburga still saw them as such).
When she had finally left, he went into action, fumbling through his orders at Kreacher. The house elf had a far better grasp of how to prepare for an afternoon tea, but he politely pretended to listen to Regulus' jumbled instructions as he set up the table with fine teacups and saucers, tiny silver spoons and delicate plates for the biscuits and sandwiches arranged atop a beautiful three-tier tray. It really was a masterpiece, even Regulus had to admit it, and he found himself wondering how a cantankerous old elf could manage to hobble about as he did and still set a table with such finesse and elegance.
After he had deemed the display worthy, Regulus realized he hadn't changed yet and ran to his room to fix that immediately. He threw himself together in his usual outlandish and hoity-toity attire and returned back downstairs to wait, most impatiently, for the arrival of his cousin. This meant much pacing, re-arranging, grumbling and twiddling of thumbs on his part.