One Offs: Random Rambles of a Crazed Fool

New Servant

'Hurry now, child.'

'Yes, marm." My reply came out quietly, barely a whisper.

After lifting the heavy tray, I moved quickly to the trolly already loaded with treats for the young master. My white gloves squeezed the handle tightly as I pushed the trolley down the hall, trying to keep my footsteps light and unheard. A good servant was one who was invisible but ready when needed. That's what I strived to be. Invisible. Unnoticed. And out of trouble.

A doorman stood outside of the study where the young master would be enjoying some leisure time. His cold brown eyes gazed down his large nose, and he offered me a slight nod before opening the study door.

Normally, I would complete my tasks without looking at the masters' of the house. It was easier that way. Most of the homes I had been employed by in the past looked at me like I was such filth. Though I knew this was nothing but their way and not to take it personally, it still hurt. I was more than the contents of a chamberpot being tossed out into the morning dew.

But today, the light rustling of pages had my curious eyes gazing from the center of the teasing pile of goodies and warm tea in the trolly upward to the long figure lounging in a high winged back chair. The later morning light shone through the muted curtain causing a halo of light to surround the young man dressed in a cream colored shirt and soft gray trousers. His blond hair looked to have silver and gold spun into the very fibers of it. One of his long legs were thrown over an arm of the chair he occupied. My hands tightened their hold on the handle of the trolly as my eyes trailed up from his very shiny riding boots to the milky fingers resting on what I assumed was a very muscular thigh.

He cleared his throat as he turned the page of the book he was absorbed in. Heat of embarrassment and shame creeped over my face as I quickly adverted it downward and remembered my place. I moved the trolly to the center of the room where a low circular table was. It was littered with other books. Some of them were open. Others were laying flat on their pages like a meat fillet.

'Young master,' I address him, nervously. I clutched my hands tight together to keep the tremor from being heard in my voice. 'May I remove your materials?'

He had not acknowledged my presence the entire time I had been in the room, but those green-gray eyes slowly moved from the book to me - my breath caught. Heat flooded my face again. Quickly, I looked back down. No one. No one ever was as blessed as he. Young master was beautiful. Fair more beautiful than anything I had ever laid eyes on.

'Yes, you may.'

His response was simple and yet it was everything. It was wonderful sounding and had a deep vibration, like it came from deep within his chest, but was a bit lofty and yet teasing. I couldn't help myself now. A foreign heat was upon me now. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn. Our eyes met again. His posture still stayed relaxed, even more now that he added the second leg to hang over the chair with the first. 

I had followed the motion and watched his fingers of his free hand move up his thigh again. Strangely, he applied pressure to his trousers causing his fingers to create tracks in the fabric. Another compulsion caused me to act rash. I reached out my own gloved hand to lay flat against his thigh and smooth out the tracks. My face was on fire when I met his eyes again. I nodded slightly and backed away from him, my hand lingering on his thigh.

My back was to him now, and I clutched the hand that touched him to my chest, before quickly setting to complete my task of clearing the table and setting up tea for him.

I kept my eyes away from him. Lost in my task, I began to relax and the color of my face went back to normal. I could breathe easier. The trolley was tucked out of the way and mid-morning tea set coupled with plates of sweet treats. They were very pretty and decorated with flowered patterns. Little small details made me appreciate the wonderful talents of craftsman in the world. At the same time, it made me jealous that someone was able to do something like this and not have to scrub chamberpots.