A/N: This is from Thomas's perspective, and it will go back to Jimmy's next chapter. I hope it isn't too confusing! Reviews are always much appreciated, even if they're critical! Thanks for reading!
It felt strange waking up leisurely for once, but Mr. Carson had told me to take as long as I needed to recover and I wasn't about to say no – as I stretched, every part of my body seemed to hurt. There wasn't much to be done anyway, with the family not yet back from Scotland, and besides, Mr. Carson knew he owed me. Ever since he had reluctantly confided in me a few months back that Dr. Clarkson had urged him to lighten his workload for the good of his health, I had been taking on more and more responsibility as under butler.
I knew how much it had cost the older butler to admit that he wasn't as young as he once was, and I had protected Mr. Carson's pride by assuring him that practical experience was exactly what I needed.
"A far cry from the days when you'd sooner starve than lift a finger beyond what was strictly required of you, Mr. Barrow," Mr. Carson had said when he came upon me one day taking inventory of the closet of household supplies in preparation to put in an order in the village.
"Just doing my part, Mr. Carson," I had responded, and the butler had almost smiled in response. My relationship with Mr. Carson had never been friendly, but we now had a mutual respect that made our working relationship a smooth one. I knew, though, that Mr. Carson would never be able to look at me without remembering that night a year ago.
As for my relationship with Mrs. Hughes, I now secretly thought of her as the mother I wished my own had been. Although I tried to express my gratitude, the older woman will probably never know how moved I was with her compassion the night she found me at my very lowest point, sobbing alone after discovering I was to be dismissed with no reference.
Her gentle touch and soothing words were like food to a starving person. To say that she saved my life is not much of an exaggeration – I had been very seriously considering taking my own life in that dark hour.
"Mr. Barrow, it may shock you to hear that my own brother was a man like you," Mrs. Hughes had confided in me that night after I sobbed out the story I felt sure would disgust her. "Terrence and I were as close as brother and sister ever could be, and I was the only one who knew…what he was."
I was utterly speechless that Mrs. Hughes, the most dignified and reserved of women, was speaking so openly about such a topic.
"His life did not end happily, I am sad to say," Mrs. Hughes continued, wiping away tears of her own. I waited for her to elaborate, but she did not. "It's too painful to discuss," the housekeeper continued. "So Mr. Barrow, while we've never been overly friendly, I do feel for you. And you could learn a bit from Terrence. He was just as hurt and angry as you are over the way he'd been treated, but he didn't let it poison him. He was a kind, lovely person."
After that night, something in me was different. I was as hurt and angry as ever over the way the world treated men like me, but Mrs. Hughes' words had penetrated my being. I knew I'd been unfair at times, allowing that pain to spill out against people who themselves had done me no real harm. Slowly, I felt myself changing, even while I nursed my broken heart over Jimmy. Through my fog of despair, I survived by honoring Terrence's memory.
They say time heals all wounds, and I suppose there's some truth to it, but I'm not sure how true it is when every day you have to work alongside the person you're trying to forget. But after a year, I'd become grimly accustomed to the reality that Jimmy Kent would never even speak a civil word to me, let alone want anything more. All that had changed last night.
Last night I'd been beside myself with joy over my newfound friendship with Jimmy, before the reality had set in. What if I overstepped my boundaries? And did Jimmy really want to be friends, or did he merely feel a grudging sense of responsibility toward me for my act of heroism? I didn't know, and I was afraid to find out. But I didn't have long to ponder, because as I stretched and winced again, Jimmy was knocking on the door and entering the room.
He carried a breakfast tray, and in an instant I remembered that I had stripped naked during the night because of the intense heat in my attic bedroom, and Jimmy had evidently been in my dreams, considering the way my sheet tented halfway down my body. In a panic, I sat up, bunching the sheet around my groin and grappling for the blanket, which had slipped to the end of the bed as I slept. Jimmy was too busy with the tray to notice, or so I hoped. I slipped my shirt back over my head while Jimmy's back was turned so that he wouldn't read anything suggestive into my body language.
"Good morning, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy offered. "Pleasant dreams?" His eyes were wide, innocent and heavenly and that lock of hair was falling over his forehead as usual, just asking to be tenderly brushed away.
I blushed scarlet at the words. Jimmy would not appreciate an honest answer to that question, that much I knew.
"Slept like a baby," I answered instead, accepting the breakfast try with a word of thanks. "What about you?"
"All right, I guess, but you know how it is; morning came too soon. I think I hate the lack of sleep more than anything else about being in service," Jimmy said and I nodded sympathetically. An awkward silence followed and I busied myself with my tray. It was all well and good to say we were friends now, but what did we have to say each other? Should I pick up where we'd left off the last time we'd had a real conversation, that fateful night when Jimmy opened up to me about having no family and being all on his own?
"Oh, the rest of the staff are back early, by the way," Jimmy interrupted my thoughts. "Lady Mary's in hospital and they reckon the baby's coming, so they all came on the early train."
"Let Mr. Carson know I'll try to get down later to help see to dinner," I answered and Jimmy nodded.
"Don't strain yourself," he cautioned with a grin. "You're not as young as you used to be, after all."
I laughed outright at Jimmy's cheeky jab and felt the tension in the room dissolving.
"Not so very much older than you, and don't you forget it, but plenty wiser," I countered, and batted at his arm playfully as he moved closer to remove the empty tray. My touch lingered a fraction of a second too long and I inwardly cringed. I had touched Jimmy, something I had vowed never to do again. Worse yet, he'd noticed and had jumped back instinctively.
"I'm sorry," I said automatically. "I wasn't thinking, Jimmy, forgive me."
"No harm done, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy answered but his face said otherwise. The tension was back in the room and we both felt it. Once again I wanted to disappear. Hadn't I learned my lesson a year ago?
"Well, I'd best get back on duty," Jimmy said stiffly and I nodded. After he was safely down the stairs, I sighed deeply and opened a book from my bedside table. From it I withdrew the note I had read every day for the past year – the note that I knew had actually been written by Miss O'Brien as part of her master plan to trick me, but that I couldn't part with. The note that read, simply, "I love you, Mr. Barrow. –J."