The Beauty of Coincidence | manxman | (Historical Fiction)

V - Handoff

Wednesday

03 April 1820

Meeting Lord Victor's father the day before was an event I do not think I will ever forget. His name was Norman Ramsey and immediately, from a single glance, that man discovered my deepest of secrets. Though I did not give an assured confirmation that he was correct in his assumption, my silence, I am sure, was enough for him to know he was correct. He threatened me to remain gentle around his son, around Lord Victor, and in doing so also threatened to take my life if ever I did bring displeasure upon his son.

Truthfully, I cannot imagine showing an ill-mannered version of myself to him. So far, Lord Victor has proved far too affectionate to deserve such harsh treatment. To further explain his good-natured person, the Lord asked that I pick flowers for him before I departed from his estate. Since he is bound to a wheelchair and cannot walk amongst his own garden, I gladly obliged.

From his garden I picked crocus, daffodils, tulips, puschkinia, geraniums, petunias, and dahlias. I only knew the names of these species for Lord Victor's knowledge of flowers. It seems they are his favorites, and thus his father had the impressive garden filled with them. Still, it is a surprise for me to learn Norman Ramsey commissioned the Upton Estate to be built just for his son, as if he was prepared to send his eldest son away to live alone. With servants, yes, but alone nonetheless. My sympathies are with Lord Victor, and I do not wish for him to feel as alone as he does at this moment. However, I have been consumed by my work, therefore driven away from my own desire to see him again. Four days, four days I will be like a ghost to him, but as a man who must work to provide, I must also stay away until my current tasks are complete.

Lord Victor Ramsey, I apologize.

✦      ✦       ✦

Sunflower mane

Light blue gaze

Your aches are clear

As clear as day

The distance feels sour

Be patient, sunflower

For day breaks shine

Will bring our next encounter

✦      ✦       ✦

Reynold rested his quill inside the small tin of ink and looked over his journal entries. It was one of many. He had some journals that dated back to 1803 when he was ten years old and had just begun writing. Back then, his father thought his desire to engross himself in schooling was a waste of time. As a carpenter, all he needed to know was how to measure. To do that, he didn't need books or to know the sciences of the world, advanced maths, anything of that sort.

According to his father, a life spent in school was a life wasted. Still, it was a wonder why the man allowed his son to attend when beseeched.

After putting everything away and tucking his journal in the drawer of the desk, Reynold sat there a moment longer. There was a cup of coffee set before him that Evie had brought in a moment ago, and when he brought the heat of it to his lips, he blew against the dark liquid before taking a swig. For the life of him, he couldn't stop thinking about Lord Victor, mostly because of the emotions that'd surfaced the night before. Knowing he'd be leaving the lonely lord by himself for some time made him feel rather guilty. But, as a working man, he hadn't a choice.