I tried to hide my pleasure at seeing Jimmy unexpectedly enter my bedroom. I cringed inwardly as I wondered what the handsome young footman would do if he could read my thoughts. If he could know how often my dreams and fantasies revolved around him. But I had spent an entire year distancing myself from Jimmy as much as possible, as difficult as it was, and I had no intention of letting down my guard now.
"What are you doing here?" I asked in a would-be casual voice.
"I just wanted to make sure there wasn't too much harm done," Jimmy answered, and I felt my heart flutter. When you've been starved for attention all your life, even a common courtesy can make you feel like you're on top of the world. Jimmy hadn't spoken a direct word to me in a year, beyond "Excuse me, Mr. Barrow," and "Would you pass the butter." Now he was in my room and asking after my well-being, and I was momentarily tongue-tied before reminding myself to play it cool.
"There was enough harm done," I answered, trying to keep the pride out of my voice. I hadn't won the fight – not that a two on one attack is a fair fight at all – but I'd saved Jimmy from harm. In his inebriated condition, he'd probably have fared even worse than I had. It made me very glad I hadn't ignored my impulse to follow the young blond footman I couldn't stop thinking about.
"You were brave, Mr. Barrow… very brave," Jimmy said at last, and the words made me want to embrace him. But I knew better, even if my injuries hadn't been confining me to my bed. His words were music to my ears and I could only shake my head, brushing off Jimmy's praise. I didn't trust myself to speak so I waited.
"I feel badly…I shouldn't have run off." Jimmy looked very young and innocent just then, and I felt a surge of tender protectiveness toward him. Not that he was delicate, but he'd seen less of the world than I had. I wanted to shield him from pain, something that no person had ever done for me.
"No, you should have," I answered, shifting in bed to try to get more comfortable and getting a painful reminder of the damage the two young blokes had done. "Otherwise, what was I bloody doing it for?"
Another pause followed, and again, I didn't dare to speak, for fear that my tender feelings would make themselves known. And I had vowed never to remind Jimmy of the night that had disgusted him so badly.
"Were you following me?" Jimmy asked then, and my stomach tightened. How could I answer? I couldn't tell him that I wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth, so I thought fast. I had honestly been worried that the young footman might get into trouble after placing the bet in the tug of war that had paid off for him so handsomely. So I told the truth…the half truth, anyway.
"I had to keep an eye out," I said. "I could see you'd had a bit to drink, and so… Yes. Yes, I did follow you."
Would my answer satisfy him? Or did he suspect it was only half the truth?
"Why?" Jimmy asked simply, and I inwardly groaned. He had seen my actions for what they were – a lover's chivalry.
"You know why," I muttered, hating to confirm his suspicions that after all this time, I still found myself hopelessly drawn to him.
I thought he would turn and run right then and there, and was surprised when Jimmy pulled a chair closer to my bed.
"I can never give you what you want," he said after another awkward pause, and I wished I could sink through the bed and disappear. Instead, a bolt of desire went through my stomach to my groin, just to hear Jimmy voicing aloud his acknowledgement of all I desired.
What I want is you, on any terms, I thought. I want you in my arms right this minute. I want to stroke your hair and be by your side always, so neither one of us has to be alone ever again. I want to hear you moan my name. My head spun and I jolted myself back to reality. Jimmy was a ladies' man – I knew that. My fantasies would never come true. But maybe, just maybe, I had given myself the chance to start over. I chose my words very carefully.
"I understand that, I – I do," I breathed, afraid to look up. I forced myself to look into the blue eyes that made me weak kneed. "And I don't ask for it. But I'd like it if we could be friends."
I held my breath, afraid again that Jimmy would turn and run, never to speak to me. I couldn't bear that – the loneliness and rejection would kill me. But he didn't. To my utter joy and relief, a tentative smile lit up his face.
"Right you are, Mr. Barrow," he said, and I could have cried. "If that's all, I think I can manage that."
"Thank you, Jimmy," I said with fervor. "Thank you." I didn't trust myself to say more, not without bursting into tears. Before I made a fool of myself, I had to lighten the atmosphere. I picked up the newspaper I had cast aside when Jimmy first entered my room and handed it to him.
"Make yourself useful and read the paper," I grinned, and Jimmy took the paper with another smile and began to read. I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, because the intimacy of Jimmy sitting by my bed, reading in his warm and soothing voice, had me in a state of bliss. All too soon, he stood to leave.
."Mr. Carson will be sending up a search party for me before long!" he said, and I wondered how the head butler hadn't already tracked down his waylaid footman.
"I shouldn't have kept you," I offered. "But I do thank you, Jimmy."
"It's me that should be thanking you, Mr. Barrow," he replied, and something in his eyes struck me. "I owe you."
I knew better than to read any kind of double meaning into such an innocuous statement. But it still thrilled me. I dared to hope that at the very least, it meant that Jimmy meant to make good on his promise to be my friend.
"I'll come back up tomorrow morning to see how you're getting on," Jimmy blurted suddenly, red-faced and avoiding my eyes. And before I could answer, he had fled the room.
I sank back into the pillows, taking all that had happened in such a short span of time. Jimmy no longer hated me. We were friends. He had sat by my bed and read to me. My cup overfloweth, I thought, a quote from the Psalms my mother used to read to me. I liked the Psalms.
But then I was reminded of another memory involving my mother and the bible. I could see her now, red-faced and shouting, as she spat in my face, "Leviticus 20:13: "If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestableact; they shall surely be put to death. Their blood guiltiness is upon them."
The spell was broken. My cloud of euphoria over my newfound friendship burst as quickly as it had formed. We were friends, yes. But Jimmy believed the way my parents did. He believed I was an abomination. And every time I looked at my new friend, I would be reminded of all I could never have.
Reverently, I picked up the newspaper Jimmy had held in his hands and kissed it before laying it aside. Then I turned off my bedside lamp, pulled the covers over my head, and cried myself to sleep, as I had done so many, many times before.