5"The Gentleman of York" is a period romantic drama set in the mid-Victorian period of England (1859). I do apologize in advance for the inconsistency in Tense. I normally write in Present, but for some reason I wrote this in Past…because I hate myself, apparently.
Chapter 1
"Listen Cam, she's a bit strange, yeah, but she's our Lady. Ya know what I mean? You just have to bear wiff 'er." Jonathan spoke the truth to me more times than I could count. He was always looking out for me, even when I didn't ask. And this night was no different. We had the weekend off from her Ladyship's estate, so we went back to Jon's house for dinner. His wife Angela was semi-happy to see me. She's still upset over the "roses" incident a few weeks ago wherein I made her roses look better than they have in the years past. I think she might have forgiven me, however, when I offered to wash the dishes for her tonight.
"I know what you mean, Jon. She's just so...well I don't want to say she's odd because that's mean," I said. I had only been working at the Sheridan estate for six months. So far, her Ladyship has become more and more of a mystery to me...and I had to admit, I loved mysteries.
Jon let out a hearty laugh. No doubt he had heard the same musings from others who have worked for her Ladyship before. "It's not mean. She is a bit of an odd duck, but she'll take care o' you for the rest of your life so long as you work at the estate."
"You should listen to him, Cameron. Lady Sheridan is a gracious and upstanding lady," Angela added. She came and sat next to her husband on the couch by the fireplace. I sunk in my chair and turned my eyes to watch the flames flicker beside me. She was right. They were both right. I just couldn't seem to satiate my curiosity over the Lady of the house we worked at. As much as I enjoyed being a footman, I wished I could pick her brain. She's so educated, as a woman of her breeding should be. But she's...I don't know. There's more to education and good breeding where she's concerned. For one, she treated her staff as old friends, although most of them were at this point. I wondered if I would ever fall into that category after a few years of service.
"She never talks about her late husband..." I trailed off, never moving my gaze from the hearth.
Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Jon and Angie exchange a look. "It's best to leave that alone, boy. If she doesn't wanna talk about his Lordship, she doesn't 'alf to," Jon said.
"It's getting late, lad. Are you staying here tonight?" Angie asked.
"May I?"
Jon laughed as he rose from the couch with a few cracks of his joints. "Just like old times, eh?"
I rolled my eyes. "Except this time, I'm just staying for tonight."
Angie thanked the good Lord for that, and she helped me get a place settled for me to sleep. In the past, I had slept on this couch one too many times between jobs here in Lincolnshire. But I couldn't go all the way back home and let my mother know I was a disappointment yet again. I was forever thankful for the Barrows. I know I was a bother, but now that I'm steadily employed, I tried to return their kindness every chance I got.
"Don't worry about putting the fire out tonight." Angie handed me another blanket, warning of the incoming colder weather. I promised to stay bundled as she gave me a peck on the head. "Don't be long," she told Jonathan with a gentle touch on her way out of the living room.
"I won't, Love. Got everythin' ya need?"
I smiled at my best friend, clutching the woven blanket Angie left with me. "I think so."
Jon nodded but I could tell there was something else on his mind. His brows were scrunched together in deep thought as he stroked his greying beard. "Listen, Cam. I don't want this to sound bad, but I think you shouldn't go pokin' about in her Ladyship's business. Sure, we're all friends with 'er in a way, but we're still under 'er. We work for 'er, ya know? Just..." Jonathan sighed deeply. I scanned his features, trying to understand what he was warning me against. He turned his sunken brown eyes to me, and all at once I understood what he meant. Don't get too close, Cameron. It's dangerous to try to understand the ways of the upper class. Don't push your luck.
"I know, Jon. If anyone knows his place in this world, it's me."
"That's not what I...never mind. Good night, friend. I'll see you in the morning, unless you disappear before breakfast like you do." I chuckled at his comment as he left the room to join his wife. I liked to disappear sometimes, but only because I enjoyed seeing the sunrise over Sheridan Lake. Being alone in nature was my only consolation for working as a servant. As I settled in for the night, my mind raced with the conversation we had about her Ladyship. I suppose you could say I had an innocent fascination with her whimsical personality. The way she talked to the servants, the way she stayed holed-up in her study all hours of the day and night. The way she would occasionally come home from a trip to Lincoln and go on a drinking binge but never explain why. Most people were easy for me to understand. There has been nary a person I couldn't figure out with a first glance, or a conversation or two. People were one of the easiest things in this life for me to understand. Yet, Lady Sheridan forever escaped me. I wished more than anything to be a fly on the wall of her study, listening to her speak or read or play her piano. I wanted to know the inner workings of her heart as well as my own...
Stop, Cam. Just go to sleep.
But I couldn't. All I could think about was how I couldn't wait to go back to work the day after tomorrow just to get the chance to interact with her Ladyship once more. All I wanted was to figure her out for myself, so this inappropriate curiosity within me could be quelled.
Six months later...
"No, this is the cloth for polishing the silver. How many times do I have to tell you, Oliver?" I barked. Oliver was a sweet young man with so much heart to please his superiors but today was not the day for screwing up.
"Of course, Mr. Collins. I'll re-polish them immediately," he said, scurrying away.
I groaned and rubbed my temples. We had so much work to do before her Ladyship's return from her meeting with Mr. Radcliff. She'd been dreading it, and in turn, I was dreading it for her. Her Ladyship hated Mr. Radcliff and his whole manner of being, so I couldn't imagine she'd enjoying talking business with him. Honestly, I don't understand why she doesn't replace him as her financial advisor for the estate. Her husband hired that yahoo anyway. The last thing I wanted upon her Ladyship's return was seeing the house in disarray.
As first footman, I wanted to make sure the house was up to Monsieur Fermon and her Ladyship's standards. Even if it wasn't exactly my job, the estate was run on a small staff, so we had to take up duties that were not our own from time to time. It seemed that I ended up taking duties not my own more often than not. But if it meant her Ladyship had less to worry about, then I'd take on the duties of every laundry maid and grounds-keep on the estate.
"Oh good, Cameron, I'm glad I caught you. Her Ladyship will be home any minute now, will you greet her at the door?" Monsieur Fermon stood in the doorway to the supply room. A stately looking man with grey hair and bold blue eyes, our chief of staff Monsieur Fermon had worked for her Ladyship longer than anyone else. There wasn't much he didn't know about her and yet was her greatest confidence—in the sense that he never told me anything about her. His fuzzy mustache wiggled under his nose as he sniffed the air.
"What is that? Pine tar?"
"Oh, yes sir. I was cleaning something earlier, forgive the smell. I know it's strong."
He shook his head and waved me off. "Never mind that, her Ladyship! Go!"
I bowed my head and ran out the door. Hopping as many stairs at a time as I could, I reached the main floor in no time. I briskly walked towards the front door of the estate, passing her Ladyship's maid, Layla. "Wait, Layla!"
The young maid whipped around so fast she almost spilled the mending she was carrying. "Yes Mr. Collins?"
"Will you make sure to prepare her Ladyship's house shoes in her study? She'll want those," I said. Layla nodded her head and ran towards the upstairs to retrieve her Ladyship's slippers. I smiled and straightened my tailcoat before approaching the doors. My timing was perfect as usual, as her Ladyship's carriage had just pulled into the driveway past the gate. I straightened my posture before offering a little wave to the driver, Mr. Smith. He winked at me as he always does, and I approached the carriage. Before I could open the door, it swung out and almost hit me square in the chest.
"Oh, Cameron! I'm so sorry, dear. Did I hit you?"
Her crystalline eyes shone as glass in the sun's rays as she reached for my chest. I pulled back and offered my hand for her to take on her departure. "Your Ladyship, I'm supposed to open the door for you, remember?"
Lady Sheridan's laugh warmed every fiber of my being. Her chocolate hair swayed to the shudder of her shoulders, and the smile lines on her face deepened ever so slightly as she looked down at me from the carriage. If I were a painter, I could not reach into the depths of my imagination and conceive the vision of a more beautiful woman than her Ladyship. Age had not dealt her a hand of fate; it had in fact bowed to her grace and warmth. If I didn't know for a fact that she was almost fifty years of age, I would suspect someone was lying out of jealousy.
"Thank you," she giggled. My hand gripped hers tighter with every step she took from the carriage to the ground. "Never fear, I made it."
Her red lips stretched into a teasing smile at me, and I averted my eyes to avoid embarrassment from the no doubt idiotic look on my face. I released her hand as quickly as I could before I began to linger too long.
"How was your meeting with Mr. Radcliff?" I asked, walking beside her.
"Ugh," she groaned, removing her gloves and hat. "I can't stand that oafish man. He talks to me as if I wasn't Lady Sheridan before I married Percy. It's my title, you know."
"I know, your Ladyship," I said with a smirk. I jumped ahead of her and pushed the doors open wide for her. I always struggled to keep up with her pace as she whipped from here to there as if she were a racehorse. She barely gave me time to collect her outer clothes before she scurried off to her study, meeting Layla on the way out. They exchanged a few words about dress for dinner before turning on her heels and disappearing into her study. Layla and I exchanged a look as if a hurricane had just blown through the manner. Little Layla, half my size and still rosy cheeked, took her Ladyship's clothes from my arms and pointed towards the study with her head.
"Better get in there with your magic tea before her Ladyship explodes," Layla said. I rolled my eyes as she departed, and I made my way towards the study.
I turned the corner into the doorway of her Ladyship's study to see her fully reclined by the hearth—she wasted no time in getting comfortable. She barely looked up to know that I had entered the room. I prepped her tea ahead of time and left it to cool on her desk, which is where I thought she would sit. I had to control a laugh as I saw her little maroon slippers propped up next to the fire I made earlier. Her hands gripped her waist, no doubt wishing to come out of her corset. I would've suggested to her to go upstairs and change, but she looked far too comfortable in her reading chair to move. I sighed and pushed my thoughts away as I brought her tea tray down to her level. Her crystal blue eyes looked up at me and a soft smile pulled at her lips. I wished I could capture that smile on a camera, although I know she would never allow it.
"Oh good, you made me tea. I thought I smelled it when I walked in...and something else. Pine?"
A nervous laugh escaped me. "I'm sorry, my Lady. I was cleaning with Pine Tar earlier. I had hoped the smell would've worn off by now." She waved it off and took a teacup, adding more sugar cubes and milk than I ever would.
"Don't worry, I don't mind. You always seem to smell of pine most of the time anyway."
I reeled back and trained my eyes elsewhere. Why does she say things like that so casually? I wish she wouldn't. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I hastened back to her desk with the tray. I placed it down and gripped the sides of the tray, trying to calm my heart rate. My breathing quickened slightly, but I was able to bring peace to my racing mind before returning to her Ladyship's side.
"Will there be anything else, my Lady?" I silently begged her to not look my way in fear of still being red in the face. Thankfully for me, her Ladyship's face was fixed on the fire in front of her. Her red lips pressed against the teacup as she took a sip. Her expression said she was savoring it, and somehow that made my heart pound once again.
"No, I think I'll be fine until dinner. Thank you, Cameron. Attentive as always." Her voice carried a shiver down my spine, and for the life of me, I couldn't convince my feet to move out of her study...out of her presence. Behavior unbecoming of a first footman, no doubt. But I wanted to be in her atmosphere for just a moment more. I wanted to feel the warmth of her sun for a heartbeat longer.
"As you wish, my Lady," I was barely able to whisper before I left the study. I promptly closed the door behind me and made a turn towards the stairs. I needed to go to my room for a moment before anyone else saw me redder than a Scott. I bounded more steps than I should to the servants' quarters and as I reached my room, I slung the door open then slammed it closed behind me. With my back pressed against the door, I slowly sank to the floor. I unfastened my coat and propped my head in my hands. I could feel the warmth of my face through my gloves, and I begged my body to calm down.
It was just a passing comment, Cam. Get a hold of yourself! She made comments like that to everyone due to her observant nature, it wasn't as if they were only ever directed at me. I couldn't help but think about how disappointed Jon would be if he saw me in such a state over short conversation. Luckily for me, I'd hardly been able to go outside to talk to the head groundskeeper since I was promoted. The last thing I needed was a lecture about familiarity with the upper class. I know my place. I know this is just some passing infatuation. But I can't stop...I can't stop thinking about her.
"Ugh!" I took my gloves off and threw them across the room. I knew running my fingers through my hair would mean having to recomb it and plaster it down again, but I had to do something with my hands. And imagining they were her hands combing through my black waves didn't help. Imagining her never helped.
"You're thirty-one years old, Cameron. You're not a stupid teenager..."
But my own words of condemnation meant nothing in the face of those crystalline eyes, soft brown curls, or rose-stained lips. I couldn't reconcile myself to ignore her mysterious nature or give up on the pursuit of knowing her. My father would have come down from Heaven himself to whip me if he knew the sorts of thoughts I had about her Ladyship. Dear Lord, if my sister ever found out, she would never let me hear the end of it. But no one would find out, even if keeping this inappropriate attraction a secret meant my death, or worse, my leaving High Tower and the Sheridan estate.
I leaned my head back against the door to my room and let out a long sigh. I breathed in deeply a few times to slow my heart and mind down long enough to return downstairs to help with dinner prep. The warmth of her Ladyship's hand in mine still lingered, perhaps it persisted by my own imagination. My damned imagination would soon be the death of me, I knew that for sure. But what I didn't know for sure was how much longer I could take being so near her and keep my heart to myself.
"I'm fucked."