Chapter Text
“Do you love her?” Niles lifted his whiskey glass to his lips.
Lester stiffened in his seat, surprised by the curiosity. He hadn't expected that kind of questioning from his friend, much less at a vulnerable moment. He let out a miserable sigh, his eyes sad over his own cup.
“I do...”
Niles looked at him as if he had just confessed to murder. He was an admirer of effusive people, especially those who did not require palpable demonstrations. In that case, he would always admire Lester's facility for responding with total sincerity.
“Woah. What daring.” He said languidly, so causally that it vanished in the gust of oscillating air.
He did not mean to be rude. Lester knew that, he had known him for years. Niles was an honest man in magnanimous levels, and everyone recognised that as a valuable virtue. From his honesty branched his unheard loyalty.
If the only flaw of his virtue were to be singled out, and the reason many came to regard him as a nuisance, it would be his lack of tact in expressing the truth. His rudeness was compatible with his sarcasm, making him a sardonic person with an agile ability to think.
“And how?” He asked abruptly.
Lester turned to him, gesturing his eyebrows. At his prolonged silence he expected the subject to be forgotten, but when Niles continued to speak, he found out what a deep conversation it would be.
“How could I not? She's perfect.”
Niles felt his laughing muscle twitch, and used all his willpower not to burst out laughing. A mocking expression appeared on his face; he raised his glass to his lips in a vain attempt to hide his smile.
“Perfect, uh? I don't think she's the same Jocelyn we talk about.”
Niles had known Jocelyn since childhood. He had practically watched her grow up, and on multiple occasions served as her chaperone, as well as a tutor in oratory, horsemanship and fencing. During their childhood, he observed those aspects of Jocelyn that set her apart from her siblings. He could tell she had a strong character. She was overly effusive with her emotions even more than British usually are, and docile enough when it came to bestowing her trust. However, she had a great deal of expectations and was quick to get bored: like any fickle child.
Or at least that's what he saw from the shadows, while in his service.
As they grew older, they all developed a dazzling amorous track record. Though Maxwell's seemed mediocre even to Niles, Jocelyn's relationships were total failures that functioned only as the target of mockery of her older siblings. And over time, it became a running joke within the mansion. The only thing the Sheffield boys could agree on was betting on their sister's dating failures.
Reason for which Jocelyn had lost all communication with her young brother, Nigel. To the point of feigning his non-existence. The fact that her current fiancé, the Duke, had the same name as her younger brother, made it all the more grim.
“It is.” Lester said.
Niles jumped in his seat and blinked a few times. He would have been scared, but the chances of Lester developing mind-reading were absurd. His words, which sounded accurate to the thoughts he was having, baffled him.
“Beg you pardon?”
“I'm answering to you. We're talking about the same woman. The same beautiful and wonderful woman,” said the chauffeur, sipping the whiskey.
Ah. There, there...
“Well, we all say that when we're in love.” He raised a disdainful eyebrow.
Lester stopped the glass travelling towards his mouth, and frowned. The comment's suggestion threw him off balance. “What do you mean by that? Miss Jocelyn is beautiful.”
Lester's (uncharacteristic) aggressiveness surprised Niles, who merely straightened up in his place in search of a decent excuse. It took him a few seconds to refute, when his companion began to question him again.
“Are you implying that she's—?!”
“Nothing. I'm not implying anything, Lester,” he interrupted him in the calmest voice he could find. “But I remind you that I grew up with her. I'll never think of her as a woman. But as a younger sister.”
Niles wasn't lying. He acted as any older brother would, and questioned him as any friend would. He fiddled with his glass in the hope that Lester would understand his position. Judging by the way he relaxed in his seat, and returned to the same serene attitude, he believed him.
No more words were exchanged for a long time. Lester seemed more focused on enjoying the cool breeze that the solarium offered him on a desolate night. Like Niles, he was grateful for a moment of privacy where he didn't have to serve another man of higher status. However, the abandoned decorations in the corner of the room resumed the conversation as doubt returned to Niles' mind.
“So tell me, Les,” he began, pouring himself a nice drink. “How did you fall in love with her? What attracts you to Miss Jocelyn?”
“It's not difficult, Niles,” the older fellow replied and continued to the butler's incredulous face. “You say that like it's madness.”
Niles swallowed a good comment, guided by a feeling of empathy and the parallels he found in the situation.
“If I'm honest, it's hard to believe. She's very stoic, direct and indecipherable. Her humour is rather odd.”
“Ed...” Lester warned, arching an eyebrow in his direction.
The butler shrank back in his place as if his temper would drop. He must have supposed he shouldn't get into a tit-for-tat with the man who knew more about his past than anyone else. He cleared his throat, and avoided looking at him.
“I understand your point about the brotherhood, but that doesn't give you the right to talk about her like that,” Lester tapped the table with a serious expression. “Much less in my presence.”
“You're jealous of her as if she were your girl.” Niles muttered grumpily and rolled his eyes.
Lester's spirits dropped noticeably. Although Niles felt guilty about his irritable behaviour, he had no time to apologise when his partner spoke again.
“Silently, I like to think that she is.”
Niles did not apologise. He shrugged his shoulders simply. “I mean, you cherish her. You are very fond of her.”
“It's not simple affection.”
“What's then? Sexual tension? A whim?” He said careless.
“Love.”
Niles felt a pang of nausea catch in his throat. He could taste the words as if they were a bad sweet; had to make an effort not to stick out his tongue in disgust in a cartoonish reaction.
Somehow, he admired that. The courage some men had to express what they felt so easily. He also envied it. He could barely have those thoughts without feeling his stomach churn. Niles found himself tempted to spit out a simple: 'How are you sure about that?' but swallowed it with another sip of whiskey.
Instead, he changed the words and phrased the question with a friendly nuance, so that he could get the exact answer he wanted.
“What do you like about her?”
“Everything,” he said flatly. “She's beautiful, she has the most beautiful eyes, a lovely laugh. I love the way she looks at me when she asks me for a favour, her face when I tell her something about her outfit. She may seem reserved, but she is delicate when no one is looking. Nobody is seeing through that shell.”
“Shell?” he tilted his head. The British tended to be metaphorical by nature, but Lester was being very poetic to his taste.
“It's a way to say it. I don't know how to explain this, it's like...”
“A mask of futility,” Niles hastened. “A mask of what they pretend to be, but underneath hides someone in need.”
Niles had seen that mask of futility on many high society women, especially one. He was an expert at dealing with that mask. But not getting under it. Even trying to do so would get his head ripped off, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out what was under that mask.
What if he didn't like it whatever it was hiding? What if he couldn't deal with the new facet he would find there? What if it was something much worse?
What if there is nothing new? Things would never be the same again.
“Yes! A mask! I have seen under her mask. There are many insecurities involved. Do you understand what I mean?”
Niles nodded imperceptibly. He clicked his tongue to remove the bitter sensation from the roof of his mouth, and continued.
“I don't think she's pretending.” He mused, pouring them both more whiskey. “I grew up with her. Is the way she was raised.”
His high-handed attitude annoyed Lester, but didn't let it show. Niles sometimes acted as if he had absolute truth, and tended to be dismissive on several occasions. Due to the fact that he minimized his own emotions, tended to apply the same to others. The situation seemed interesting to the chauffeur, and he wondered if Niles was aware of the position he was in.
The sentence slipped off his tongue. “What about your beloved Miss Babcock? It's easier to hug a cactus than to get a kind word from that woman.”
CRACK!
Niles put the bottle down roughly on the table. Formed a thin line with his lips and gave him a cold look.
Lester remained unperturbed. And to tell the truth, he didn't know where such confidence came from. He only hoped to divert attention to another topic. The preparations for the premature wedding had him slumped, and didn't feel ready to talk about the revolution of mixed feelings he was having.
He dared to look up and found that Niles was still staring at him unmoved. In a guttural, beast-like, menacing growl, the baritone voice spread across the solarium.
“She is out of discussion.”
It was like turning on a light bulb in his head. If they couldn't avoid the topic, then the only solution would use the butler's own arguments against him. Lester decided to ignore the warning tone in his voice.
“They are not so different.” He said cautiously.
Niles shot him a brooding glare, violently responded. “You don't know her.”
“Nobody does. Not even you. They make us see what they want the world to see... They are very similar in some respects.”
With the difference that Miss Jocelyn does know how to thanks. Niles looked down at the glass. He would not admit it to the chauffeur. Even if by evading the answer he had already given a clear enough implication. Irritatingly, his friend's voice buzzed in his ears again.
“Do you know what is under the mask?”
Niles rolled his eyes and his expression became jaded. The term was making him sick, and he regretted bringing it up. He already felt cornered, and was being forced to make confessions he didn't want to do.
“No. I guess you know that. Enlighten me, old boy, what did you see?” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Deep down inside they just need to be loved.”
“No shit, Sherlock!” he let out a good laugh.
Lester looked at him quietly, like someone who doesn't get a joke. Niles found himself in the awkward position of having to explain it.
“C'mon, Lester, it isn't that hard. I mean, what else would it be? They have everything: money, fame, respect!”
“That's not everything in life.”
“You and I know that. What is truly valuable is not tangible.” The blond guy took a sip from his glass.
“What's that?”
Love.
Niles almost choked as the words returned to his chest. He bit down so hard on his lower lip that he could taste the terrible taste of blood. He looked at Lester with an exact replica of the look of a psychopath, tensing his jaw. Lester looked at him expectantly, really hoping for an answer.
“Never mind.”
“It's love.” Lester said and drank from his glass. “... I assume.”
Keep saying that word and I'll break your neck. He raised the glass to his lips. Ugh. The smell of the strong whisky slapped Niles in the face and he immediately pushed the glass away as if it were a foul-smelling concoction. He felt that hint of retching again, and a horrible pulling in his gut. The pit of his stomach burned. He didn't understand why the mere mention of the word made him so anxious, but he abhorred the feeling. He tore his gaze away from his drink in an attempt to dispel the giddiness that dazed him and looked at his friend.
A self-satisfied little smirk crept across Lester's features. Like a child winning a silly debate. Which increased his companion's moodiness. Instead of smashing his fist into that stupid grin, he went for the more 'civilised' option. And did it the way he knew best: With witty words.
“What matters is to be loved,” he said solemnly. The chauffeur agreed, ignorant of his equal's mischievous intentions. “I suppose Miss Jocelyn will be now.”
Touché.
Lester's eyes dropped to his glass, as his back hunched. A ghost of tears appeared in his eyes. “Yes... Now she's getting married. And I'll be the most miserable man on earth.”
“It was bound to happen, Lester.” Niles said distantly as he clenched the glass between his fingers. “From the first moment you meet her, you have to psyche yourself up that there's not a chance in hell. Prepare for the day when a man with better opportunities will love her.”
“Sounds like you've been there.”
Niles averted his gaze and went into deep thought. She was the most intelligent and beautiful woman he knew. She would not be stymied by someone unsavoury. Eventually, if it wasn't Maxwell Sheffield, she would marry any other rich man. Not all men in New York were brainless louts. Someday a nice man with deep pockets would come along willing to love her. There was nothing he could do. That constantly mortified him.
Once she set foot outside the house, everything would fall apart.
“You don't have to be there to know that,” he replied after an awkward throat clearing. His eyes were red, from arduously holding back tears. “We are the help. We're meant to watch them make their lives while we stay in the mud.”
“You sound like those high society families.” Lester said in the quietest way.
“It's true,” replied dryly. His jaw tightened and he felt his stomach drop to his feet as he heard himself quote his enemy: “They don't marry the help.”
Niles finally looked at Lester. The chauffeur felt a pang of sorrow when he saw the grief on the butler's face, and his heart squeezed as he noted his companion's suffering. With complete transparency, Lester could see through his friend's resigned words, and immediately understood the eternal dilemma he was in. Unlike the butler, Lester did not come from a family of servants, but had chosen the job because he needed the money, and it did not require as much effort.
He knew that Niles had been generously supported by the Sheffields. The first time he met him was at the wedding of Maxwell and the late Sara. At the time, Niles told him of his interest in starting a business and had great aspirations for the future that were quite challenging. Therefore, when they met again several years later, he was surprised to see him still working for Maxwell Sheffield. Only that time, he was doing it with such rancour as he spat a scathing remark at a beautiful blonde.
Lester understood at once. The question of what tied him to that house always haunted him. It was only then that he realised what was the chain that Niles himself was clinging to, and it was even more shocking to learn that he wasn't really as tied as expected, just that he didn't want to let go.
“You love her.”
There was another tug at Niles' stomach. He nodded. His jaw muscles were tense, and clenched his glass in anger. He couldn't say it, but could show it, even if in a cowardly way.
“How could I not? I see her every day.” He said in a parallel to the answer Lester gave him at the beginning. “She's beautiful. I've always tried to protect her, to be there for her... all these years I've looked up to her, in the shadows. Like I always do.”
Lester watched Niles' knuckles turn white and thought he would break the glass.
“And why do you make all those tricks?”
“Honestly, they are circumstantial. I have never touched her, and certainly not to hurt her.”
Lester cannot confirm it. He has seen few of their interactions.
“All these years of settling for just being the butler to be near her. But to her I am just part of the furniture... For her I'm just...”
Niles' voice disappeared, turning into a faint whimper. It was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together. Connecting all the dots on the board, and he knew he didn't really need any more explanations from Niles. Then, Lester finished the sentence.
“The help...” the man's throat went dry in a terrible realization. “Oh, boy... Babcocks do not marry the help.”
Niles' fist hit the table with such force that some objects fell off, and the bottle wobbled. The black-haired man was startled and his eyes wandered to him.
“I don't hate her, Lester. But I hate the way she makes me hate my job. To make me hate my best friend, because he is the one she loves. To make me hate my family, for condemning me to a life of service. I had never been insecure about my job, but she makes me reconsider my existence. She makes me hate myself for not being something better. What she needs.”
A tear slid down Niles' cheek. A tear of rage, Lester assumed. To see the butler cry was as rare as rain in the desert, and yet it happened when something wasn't quite right. He seemed to understand the reasons —or well-crafted excuses—for Niles' behaviour. That would explain why he was blocking his feelings, and the mere mention of the word made him so ill. He was holding too much inside his chest and it only increased second by second.
“But in the end, it's always the rich guy who wins.”
“A smile with a pat on the arm, and they're at their feet, while we go out of our way for them.” Niles set the glass down on the table abruptly.
Neither of them said half a word after their conversation. Both were engrossed in their unhappy thoughts, knowing they couldn't comfort the other. He wasn't even sure why he'd bought Lester drinks, when he was pretty sure he wasn't the best person to be advising him. Much less at such a sensitive time.
By that point they were both scorned and no longer such good company. Niles was prone to losing control, while not violent when drunk, he tended to rush in and suffer adrenaline surges where he could do all sorts of reckless things. He watched Lester discriminate the liquid in his glass and calmed down. At least Lester was the more sober of the two, and would prevent him from doing anything crazy. Already he was beginning to feel dizzy from the amount of alcohol running through his head, and as he felt his rage inhibit itself into a depression driven by spite, it confirmed that the drinks were already having an effect on him.
He should stop before he fell prey to alcohol. The next day would be a busy one, and he didn't want to deal with a hangover. But, he thought, it would be a waste to abandon that bottle.
“I'm going to quit.” Lester said out of the blue.
Niles looked up from the bottle that was below the middle but not empty. He didn't seem to understand correctly.
“It's not necessary. Even if they marry, they keep their most trusted workers.” Niles shrugged. He didn't understand the implication of the comment and its undertone.
“It is. She will no longer need me. The duke has his servants.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Les. You've been her chauffeur for almost fifteen years. Frivolous as they are, they don't get rid of people easily,” he replied hesitantly. The feeling of being knocked out was increasing.
“I cannot bear to see her married to that duke... I cannot live under the same roof with them.”
Niles couldn't restrain a sneer. His expression resembled that of a father taunting his son at a foolishness. “I've done it, it's not that hard.”
“It's completely different.” Lester shook his head.
“How can it be any different?”
“She is not married.”
Niles was silent for a few seconds. “Subtle difference, still the same. With every breath she takes she thinks about my boss; that's enough martyrdom already.”
Lester blinked incredulously a couple of times. He confirmed, by the way his companion awkwardly poured himself another drink, that he was drunk.
“It's still different, Niles. Infatuation is not as intimate as marriage.” Lester tried to explain his point, as he leaned into the bottle to pull it away from his friend.
Before Lester could pick up the bottle, Niles rolled his eyes and spat out the words coldly, as if their purpose was to minimise his feelings: “I think you need to think this through. You can't give up your only life support by letting yourself be carried away by banal emotions.”
Lester was instantly annoyed by his companion's dismissive attitude. Then he realised that the friendly conversation was over and abandoned his attempts to save the evening. He wouldn't wear himself out with a drunk person.
He rose from his seat as he put on his cap.
“You may have held out long enough, Edward, but I can't do it. And if you are the wise man I think you are, in time you'll know when it's time to move on.”
Lester pulled on the impeccable uniform jacket to Niles' incredulous gaze. The butler jumped out of his seat as if propelled by a spring and watched the sequence in awe. Beyond being angry, he was disgusted by the way things had moved. He tried to organise his thoughts in the drunken haze.
“Wait, wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked, barely able to keep his balance.
Lester looked at him with pity.
“I mean keep going. At some point she'll make a life for herself. Edward, take my advice: don't waste the rest of your life loving her in silence. You'll only stagnate and regret, wondering what might have been.”
Niles was stunned, and the words rang in his head like bells. In the midst of his bewilderment, he conceived the idea of a highly probable future. His eyes followed Lester's movements until Lester stopped to look at him.
“That... That doesn't even explain why you're leaving.” Actually, Niles felt that Lester was too explicit. The problem was his head that seemed to be solving a mathematical equation.
“It is for the best. For me and for her. I love her and I can't bear the thought of seeing her in the arms of her future husband. It's not healthy to stay.”
“That's egoistic. She needs you.”
Lester felt a twinge in his throat. He had never looked at the situation that way, and hadn't expected Niles to be the one to give him that reality check. If he was honest, his departure would be difficult between the two of them due to their closeness. At that point quitting no longer seemed like a good idea, considering that he didn't really have a good explanation beyond the fact that he was in love with her. That was his only argument.
“Do you think so?” He asked bluntly as his Adam's apple twitched in an attempt to swallow the knot. “Tell me, Niles, how can you be so sure of that? It wasn't you who said we're just part of the furniture.”
“I am.” Voice cracked. He took a step towards the man and stared into his eyes, breathing heavily. “But you are? Think about it! You're very important in her life and yet you're abandoning her. You aren't even fighting.”
Lester frowned, turning away from him. “I'm the one who's not fighting? What about you? You can't even confess that you love Miss Babcock without having a panic attack.”
“But you can. And she surely corresponds to you. Just make a move.”
“You should listen to yourself.”
Niles stood transfixed for a few seconds, before his eyes drifted to the ground, hiding his glassy eyes. Lester sighed in defeat, regretting his comment and reached out his hand to his friend's shoulder.
“Edward...”
“Stop calling me that!” He spat as if it were gravel and he turned away from his touch. His face showed complete aversion to it. Exasperated, slid a hand through his hair. “Don't call me that.”
The chauffeur formed a thin line with his lips. He had never been able to deal with such a stubborn man. Straightened up in his place with a stoic expression.
“If you love her, you'll let her go...”
“I don't even have her.” Growled in disgust.
“You have as much of her as she has of you. If you knew what she's hiding, you would understand that you're making a mistake in leaving her in the arms of another man. You still have time.”
Lester stared as Niles deftly swallowed the last of his drink and then deposited it violently on the table.
“You're right. It's different...”
“What—?”
“Yes, infatuation is different from marriage, but not all people marry for love. Jocelyn is not in love with Nigel, only a fool could believe that,” he put his fingers to his temples. “You have more advantage than me, and you're running away when you can still make one last move and change the tide.”
“If I can do it, so can you, Niles.” Lester said, careful not to touch his sensitive buttons.
He let out a scornful chuckle. “In case you haven't noticed, Lester, she hates me! No matter what I say to her, she won't love me back...”Niles' eyes dimmed down, a trace of sadness appeared on his features. Resignation, perhaps. “If you've looked under that mask, then you know she doesn't want a rich guy, she wants to be understood and most of all, to be loved. There are many millionaire men out there, but there is only one who can love her.”
“I can't Niles. I can't fight, not any more. It's too late and I have to go. She'll start a new life, and I have to move on.”
Niles shook his head. He cleared his throat, reaching inside his trousers. “You're making a terrible mistake. And you're going to regret it.”
“So are you, waiting for the arrival of a love that will never be returned. Face it, Niles. No matter how faithful you may be to Maxwell, your only attachment to that house is C.C. Babcock. And the day she leaves, you'll have lost your life and your chances of raising a family. I hope you open your eyes on time.”
Niles chuckled, in a sad way. His baritone voice, froze him in his tracks.
“And I hope that in time you will understand, that as long as another man loves her, your happiness consists in that. It's not about whether you love her, it's about her being loved.”
Niles felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. His head no longer moved and his stomach no longer churned. He was free of his own chains. He dodged his friend and walked to the exit. It seemed that the drunkenness had escaped his system. Instead, he felt too much anger and exhaustion.
Before he reached the exit, he heard Lester's cracked voice.“You know what your problem is, Niles? You haven't seen under the mask.”
He turned to look at him, and with a gesture typical of him, replied: “I haven't. But you have. Look where it has got you.”
He finally emerged from the solarium. Perhaps, she allowed him to see under her mask after all and he didn't know it until that moment. And that was even harder. Only one affirmation was running through his mind: He was in love with C.C. Babcock.