Francis has a writing table. It’s covered in half-written letters and screwed up bits of paper and piles of addresses for various front lines, because he mainly writes to his brothers. He does exchange notes with his ‘friends’ in his social circle, but they’re run round by servants so he doesn’t need addresses for those.
His table in the library is covered in books and notebooks and papers, chalk, inkpens and ink, as that’s where he works on spells (he’s banned from doing magic in his room, after almost blowing it up by throwing scrap paper he’d scribbled on in the fireplace and the fire expanded. A lot. Fortunately he managed to counter it before anything other than the floorboards and mantle were singed).
The servants once tried to clean the library table, they stopped when one of them lost their eyebrows.