A Start
She had been looking at him for a while. It was hard to put her finger on exactly when she started viewing him as a man, rather than as her father's valet. If she was being honest with herself, she had never really viewed him as just her father's valet. She had always been intrigued by him; by his strength, his courage, and his mild manners. He had a wonderful sense of humour; he could take even comments about his limp in his stride. That was the other thing, Sybil mused as she brushed out her hair in the mirror; he wasn't bitter about the fact that he limped, and he never complained that he needed to use a cane when he walked for too long. He looked at her too; she had seen it, sometimes, when she passed him in the halls and in the servants quarters when she helped Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore. He didn't stare; it was more like he was watching to see what she did next, as if he was surprised by her actions and words. Sybil sighed – she wanted so badly to get to know him as a man, but how could she do it without risking his position? There was a knock at the door, followed by a long pause, and Sybil felt her pulse quicken. Anna always let herself in as soon as she knocked, and Carson never came up to her room. Could it be?
"Come in?" She called.
The door opened, and there he stood; a white tray balanced on his left arm. She glanced at it: soup, bread and butter, and a small bunch of lavender from the garden. He stood on the threshold, teetering cautiously.
"I heard you were unwell, my Lady." He murmured, careful not to speak too loudly while her family slept. "Anna has been running back and forth between your sisters, so I offered to bring you up a tray – Mrs Patmore was worried about you not eating enough. "She's skinny as a rake, that poor lamb" were her words."
"And the flowers?" Sybil asked, slowly approaching him.
"They were my idea, I must admit." Was he blushing? "I thought they might serve to cheer you up. I hope I haven't overstepped the mark…"
"Not at all, Mr Bates, I appreciate them."
Sybil was at the door now, and as she took the tray her arm brushed his.
"Thank you, Mr Bates. I really do appreciate you doing this for me. And please, don't listen to Mrs Patmore; I eat very well and she knows it."
He chuckled, smiling at her.
"Oh, I know. But she never loses a chance to lament how small you three are."
They looked at each other for a while, the silence stretching comfortably between them.
"I should go now. " Bates murmured. "I hope you feel better soon."
"Thank you, I will."
Acting without thinking, Sybil kissed him on the cheek as her turned to leave.
"Goodnight, John."
He nodded, and she saw his cheek lift in a smile as he turned away.
"Goodnight, Sybil."
He left, closing the door quietly, and Sybil fell onto her bed. 'Well,' she thought 'it was a start.'