And I Am Happy (4 page)

Mrs. Douglass was American, Will reminded
himself. It was possible she thought his gentleman very democratic
and could not help but admire him for it. Soon she would take him
to the theatre and do things to him in a secluded balcony that Will
had been dying to do. After that they would get married and the
lady with her knowing eyes would want no part of Will in her
house.

His master liked to jest about Will’s
tendency to take his plays and operas to heart but Will knew he was
right about how this melodrama would end. Mrs. Douglass had guessed
Will’s feelings. She might feel sorry for him but if she was any
kind of woman she’d want Will gone from her new home.

Where Will went after this wouldn’t matter.
Another master, perhaps, until he truly was too old, and then he
would find work for gentlemen of the merchant class who would not
know Will’s skills as a valet were lacking. He would never see his
master again unless he glimpsed him in the street or snuck in to
watch him in the House.

Will was deep in the throes of his future
heartache when he realized that the ladies were taking their leave.
He dashed back to the kitchen and came back out as they emerged
from the study. Charlie was following them out, moving much slower
than he had that morning.

Will frowned after him in worry but would not
sting his gentleman’s pride in front of his American widow by
inquiring about his strength. Charlie’s sister Melisande had his
attention in any event. She was asking about another autowagon, one
not designed for breakneck speeds like the current one that Miss
Ann had “borrowed” from her brother since he never drove it.

“My brother looked well today,” Miss Ann
spoke entirely too close to Will’s ear, making him twitch and twist
to glare at her before he remembered himself. Miss Ann was giving
him the same look she had given him earlier, the significant one
that confused him. It was most likely more concern for her brother.
They had had those sorts of talks before.

“He was out late but slept well and took no
pain powders this morning,” Will informed her, only to grow even
more puzzled when she waved that information away.

“I know you try to serve him as best you can,
William,” Miss Ann responded, her face trying to telegraph
something significant. Miss Ann had never been subtle but Will felt
the blush flare hot along his cheeks and down his neck. Her meaning
was only too clear now. He bent his head.

“I have never had so good a gentleman,” he
whispered honestly, and was forced to admit the truth, “He’s far
too good for the likes of me.” They both knew it. Even if Miss Ann
did not know Will’s exact reputation, she knew Will was not of her
brother’s class and had none of his finer feelings. Will did not
think of his fellow man when he had only one to protect. He was a
selfish, greedy sort, who wanted his gentleman all to himself and
would do things other men would consider debased and unmasculine if
Charlie asked him to. Will was not fit for him but he would still
take him any way that he could.

He glanced back at Mrs. Douglass, whose head
was angled down to listen to Miss Katherine, but whose gaze
sparkled mischievously up at his master. Then he looked at Miss
Ann. “I will be happy when he is happy,” Will told her, abjectly
miserable and aware that it was all over his face. “Excuse me,
miss,” he added, and hurried into the kitchen where no one would
follow.

~~~

The rest of the day was quieter, intensely
so, even for an already quiet house. Will suspected his master had
taken the telephone off the cradle once again but did not comment.
He kept to the kitchens. His gentleman had decided against going
out for his supper which left Will to provide for him. As he dashed
out to the market before giving up and ordering trays delivered
from Charlie’s favorite supper club, Will could not help but think
that Miss Ann would expect him to see her brother fed and fed
well.

His gentleman looked up from his
correspondence when Will brought the tray to his desk but only to
push the tray toward Will and stare pointedly until Will had no
choice but to sit and share the meal with him. It was a gesture his
master had made before. Will usually took it as a sign that he was
not looking his best and his master was concerned for his health,
but tonight it made him hide a smile as he devoured roast beef and
potatoes. If he had ordered more food in expectation of this
moment, and if that was evident in the portions on offer, that was
between him and his clever master.

Will spent more time on the meal than Charlie
did. He thought his master too absorbed in his work to eat until
Charlie finally shoved away a stack of letters with a tired sigh
and glanced at him.

“You had much to do in the kitchen today?” It
was Will’s imagination that made his gentleman sound so
wistful.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your work.” It
was good work his gentleman did. Will often listened from the
gallery and read the reports in the papers. But most of his
master’s speeches he knew by heart from evenings like this one. His
master often read to him, rehearsing speeches long before anyone
else heard them and asking Will’s opinion.

“And earlier?” Charlie interrupted Will’s
thoughts. “I have never seen you leave a room so fast.” He was no
longer eating. Will had his full attention. Will tried to show him
a blank face but smart man that his master was, he raised an
eyebrow that said he did not believe the act for a moment. “I have
found Mrs. Douglass friendly but,” there his master paused to give
Will a careful frown, “but you did not think so?”

“I did not say that.” Will studied the desk,
the floor, the remnants of dinner. “She is,” he had to firm his
voice to seem convincing, “she is a charming lady, sir,” he paused
again, then shrugged, “for an American.”

Charlie gave him a stern look that quickened
Will’s heartbeat. It also did nothing to hide the crinkles of at
the corners of his master’s eyes. “I see you couldn’t resist one
little dig,” he remarked.

Will sat up. “I am spiteful creature who
ought to be punished, sir,” he tossed back in a much warmer tone
that he had intended to use. The hint of a smile froze on his
master’s face before his master looked down again.

“You have a different view of people than I
do, Will. Often better than anything I could find in any monograph
on human nature.” His gentleman didn’t seem to notice the sound
that slipped from Will’s throat, which was for the best, as Will
thought it close to a desperate whimper. His master did not just
say such things. He believed them. “More than that, I… I care
deeply about your opinion, your impression of today. You did not
seem happy and I wondered… I wondered….” The champion of the
working class stuttered into silence. He was not looking up to see
the expression on Will’s face. It was the only thing Will was
grateful for.

Will could only think that he was being told
that his opinion mattered more to his master than that of any other
and that his master wanted his opinion on the woman who had finally
caught his eye. “Your sisters are obviously fond of Mrs. Douglass.”
It was a very diplomatic answer. Will had learned something of
politics from all those speeches.

“My sisters,” Charlie repeated, with an
unexpected roll of his eyes. But he tapped the table with his
fingers, gears shifting quietly at the motion, then put his other
hand flat on the desk. “My sisters are meddling,” he announced with
a cough. “I believe they think I am unhappy.”

“Matchmaking?” Will’s lips parted on a
hopeful breath. “But you seemed,”
eager for her attention,
pleased to see her
, “you laughed with her.” He didn’t mean to
make it a complaint.

For a moment his master’s gaze was too sharp
on him then Charlie turned his attention to the work awaiting him,
though he did not touch it. “My sisters think, correctly, that left
on my own, I give my heart away foolishly.”

“Did you once?” Will knew he shouldn’t
ask.

Charlie’s eyes came back to him for a moment.
“Yes.” His smile was mocking yet the harsh feeling was directed at
himself. “Before….” He trailed off and did not say
before the
war
, or,
before the torpedo
.

“Is that why you bought your commission?”
Will scowled at the unknown breaker of hearts and then at his
master for being a young fool in love who had risked his life over
an ended affair.

“You are reading too much into it.” His
gentleman must have been able to see the anger in Will’s
expression. When he spoke again he must have meant his words to be
placating. “It’s more common than poetic. I convinced myself
someone had feelings for me. He did not. He made that more than
clear. It happens everyday.” He was a touch too clipped, his tone
flat. The wound remained despite his next words. “I am not a
character in an opera.”

“Don’t do it again.” Will was agitated enough
to push himself to his feet but immediately fell back into his
chair to rub at his arms. He softened his voice to a plea and
forced away all thoughts of a heartless man destroying his master’s
young hopes. “Even if you are hurt, sir, don’t do that or anything
like that again.”

It gave him no joy to learn of his master’s
taste for men in those circumstances. Will reached for him then
quickly stretched toward the telephone instead, replacing the
receiver.

His master was utterly still. “I did not mean
to upset you.” He paused to take a deep breath then shook his head.
“I was younger and stupid. In any event,” he took another long
breath, “no matter, my sisters will ensure that I am never alone.
They hired you, didn’t they?”

They had, though they couldn’t have known the
feelings Will would develop. Will had been merely one in a series
of valets to them. They had probably only hoped that he would cope
better than the others, or at least be better suited to their
brother’s temperament.

“A decision they probably regret,” Will
started to jest but Charlie cut him off before he could attempt a
laugh.

“If they have anything to say to you, tell
me,” he ordered, scowling so sternly that Will felt a moment’s pity
for Miss Ann. His gentleman would deny being so fearsome if asked
but at times like that Will could see him as a soldier. His heart
almost could not take it.

“Certainly, sir,” Will lied, then continued
as smoothly as he could considering his racing heart. He stood up
to clear the dishes before something else occurred to him and he
stopped with the tray in his hands. “Are you, sir? Unhappy?” he
clarified, then wondered at his master’s brief hesitation.

“I am perfectly happy, Will, thank you.” The
smile was warm, but Will lingered, not entirely reassured.

“I can come back, sir, when this is taken
care of. If you have need of me.” There was no hesitation in him
though he might wish there were. But if he was quick, his master’s
answering smile was quicker. Will could not restrain a delighted
sigh or the saucy dip of his head. “Then I am yours tonight,
sir.”

It was the swift parting of his master’s lips
that brought his own words to his horrified attention. Will winked
to make his last comment a jest then hurried from the room.

~~~

Only this gentleman could make Will feel like
an eager boy again. He saw to the dishes and the rest of the house,
dimming the gaslights and turning down his master’s bed in a rush
but then stopped to stare at his reflection and sigh over his
sweaty palms and flushed cheeks, the pink in his nose. Will had
spent many an evening in his master’s study listening to speeches
or passages from books. A book Will could not sit through when
reading alone was far easier to listen to when read in his master’s
voice.

He dashed from the bedroom and returned to
the study just as the pen that had been in his master’s hand
bounced off the wall and landed on the floor. For a moment there
was only silence and his master’s harsh breathing and then Will
swept in and knelt down to pick up the pen. He took his time
looking for stray drops of ink that might stain and giving his
gentleman time to compose himself. When he found no evidence of
spilled ink he stood up.

Charlie’s mouth was a tight line. He was
trembling but he put his hands on the desk and pushed himself to
his feet. It took a clear effort and Will frowned. When Will had
first started his position, Charlie had used different prosthetics
and been in more pain. He had used his left hand for most things
before the war and still had difficulties using his right. Small
acts had been difficult to perform and filled him with frustration.
His master was too controlled to allow anyone to see his temper but
Will had seen the aftermath, books shoved from his desk, glasses
that had slipped from his grip smashed on the floor. Afterward
Charlie would be withdrawn, embarrassed, more for losing control of
himself than for any failure to hold a pen or button a shirt. Will
suspected there had been more of these moments that Charlie had
hidden from him, moments where his frustration got the better of
him. He had certainly hidden them from his sisters.

“Tired, sir?” Will asked and moved over to
the desk to lay down the pen. The late night and the visit today
had had more of an effect on his gentleman than Will had thought.
It was not easy for a man to pretend all was well when all was not
well. It was no wonder the pen slipped from his master’s tired
hand.

“Damn it,” Charlie swore quietly but took the
pen in his hand again and held it firmly. His hand was still
trembling. Will would have noticed that sooner if he hadn’t been so
distracted by Mrs. Douglass and her possible place in his master’s
heart. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I suppose I
am
tired.”

Charlie put the pen very carefully back down
and closed his eyes. After a few moments his shoulders dropped. It
was a heavy burden, and Will did not mean the weight of the steel
arm and leg, though he had held them and knew their weight. There
was so much that his master did not share, not with Will, not with
anyone, so much that had to be pried from him, and even then he
would pretend that he wasn’t in any pain unless it was
undeniable.