girls do what they want */ evelyn

Oh, this was so wrong. It was so wrong that it went beyond wrong and was starting to border on ridiculous. Were wrong and ridiculous even words that could be used to describe the same situation? She wasn't sure, but right now, there seemed to be no other words that were as appropriate as 'ridiculous.' So, ridiculous being the only word she could think of to describe her current lifestyle, she decided immediately that this was the perfect word to use. It wasn't that her entire life was 'ridiculous', quite the opposite, from her point of view. She greatly enjoyed her life and why wouldn't she? She was given everything her little heart desired and more. Anyone would be glad to have her life, along with that of her other family members, except the employment part. She wanted nothing to do with that particular part of adult life. The thought of her earning money when she already had money was stupidity, but nowhere near as ridiculous seeming as her current state of mind. That outclassed even the idea of working for her money.

And where had this unusual way of thinking got her? It led to her being weird. Being weird around people was not out of her relatives' usual style in the presence of lower classes, but it was becoming rather extreme. Whilst her mother might have had her own reasons to avoid certain people, Evie was starting to realise there was an entirely different reason behind her own actions. Maybe she was ill. She'd considered this possibility many times, but this thought only continued to depress her when she recalled how long she'd been acting so weirdly. She'd been, perhaps, a little naive in thinking that she could just 'recover' from this illness. She'd tried various remedies with no effect, merely suffering from the same condition throughout.

She wasn't stupid. That was unheard of in her family, with the money thrown at tutors to educate them in all manner of subjects in early childhood. Of course, this wasn't a matter of consulting a textbook and revising notes from it, although it could be diagnosed in more or less the same way as any other illness. That was how she saw it, she wasn't herself, she was thinking weirdly and consequently it affected her actions also. There was no alternative explanation, there couldn't be. Deep down, she knew what was causing her to act this way. Deep down, she knew that she couldn't just conjure a solution to this particular problem, it was one of the problems in life that couldn't be solved by throwing money at it. This was what disturbed her the most, she couldn't turn things around to whatever she wanted to get out of this, she couldn't buy the things she wanted. Not that she would if she could buy her way out, that sort of behaviour would have been inappropriate and worthy of being disowned by her family.

Suddenly brought back to reality, from the constant brushing of her own hair, she heard a knock at her door which caused her to drop the brush she had been holding absent-mindedly. Hearing the noise, she breathed in slightly, trying her best to hide her surprise at hearing the voice of the person her mind had been blocking out. Standing up abruptly, the hairbrush laying forgotten on the floor, she opened the door to be glancing up at her father's footman. That was how she should always think of him, he was her father's servant. Servant, and she was practically royalty compared to him. Trying (and succeeding to hide her butterflies flitting around in her stomach), she gave him nothing more than her usual neutral expression. "Yes," she said suddenly, more enthusiastic than she should have been. Calming her tone down to normal, she addressed him again. "Next time, maybe you should take more care not to scare me by creeping up on me." A few seconds of silence fell, before she managed to remember what he had been saying and acted as though she was still rather annoyed at being disturbed. "My father has given you the day off?" she repeated, looking at him as though he'd said something absurd. "I do hope you're not being paid to have this leisure time. But now you're here, I do have a few things in need of doing." She raised an eyebrow hardly waiting for his response, before continuing. "Unless you're incredibly busy on your day off?"

She shouldn't have opened the door, that was clear. Look at the mess she'd managed to create for herself, making the situation worse and all she'd done was open the door. Not that anyone could see her inner struggle in consciousness, from the outside she was carrying nothing more or less than her usual expression. It was true that recently she'd acted perhaps harsher towards servants than she was inclined to do in the past, but she felt it necessary or useful to avoid the estate staff as much as possible. So why exactly had she just done the opposite and started talking to the one member of staff who was the one she should avoid? If this sudden outburst of words directed at him could be considered as starting a conversation, which it probably wasn't. Conversations weren't usually something that nobles and servants did together, if ever. Of course, she'd realised that this was a mistake the moment she opened the door and wanted to close it again, but felt that doing this that abruptly would be slightly rude. Now she was worried about being rude to a servant? Things were definitely suffering from her illness, if she'd started to think that certain actions might be perceived as rude.

Like everyone else, Evie was perfectly aware of the rules of the house which stated that she (and everyone else) should refer to him as Mr. Tharme, which she could never get her tongue around. She couldn't ever remember calling him this outside of family meetings, instead opting for merely glancing at him and making it obvious that she was talking to him, rather than the person stood behind him. But this became all the more confusing when he was also supposed to be called by his first name when he acted as a footman. She never knew what the difference here was and neglected to find out. She knew which word she wanted to say, but whilst he was clearly acting as a valet, as was his usual position, she had no alternative but to address him in all formality or to shrug names off altogether. At least then her parents and siblings would just think she was more dispassionate towards the people serving them rather than the fact that she wasn't permitted to call him by his first name. It was easier to remember as well, rather than trying to determine which name she was supposed to be using at that moment in time. What would happen if she did use his first name unexpectedly? She didn't really spend much time considering this possibility, because she knew the reaction from her parents would be the same as if she announced that she'd killed one of her siblings. There were clear rules on this type of thing.

Of course she noticed instantly that his eyes couldn't meet her, something that was not atypical of the average servant, but still puzzled her. Was there a new regulation which demanded that servants were not allowed to make direct eye contact with their employers? She wasn't sure she liked the sound of this rule, dare she admit it to herself, she liked eye contact from the other person when she was talking to someone. Particularly when she was talking to him. Maybe it was because she'd practically accused him of stalking her. "Please see to it that you don't," she replied simply, mentally stabbing herself for turning that into a request with the word 'please.' Couldn't she do better than this at controlling her speech? It seemed that she couldn't help but be slightly more civil than she should have been, although now she felt a strong need to cover this up.

She wasn't given much time to reflect on this before he suddenly burst into a long explanation about something. She wasn't exactly sure what this was meant to explain, since it didn't make much sense as to why he would be telling her this. Something inside her warmed at hearing his affection for this other servant, but something else gave her a twinge that she could not easily ignore or cast aside. "That's all very touching, I'm sure," she said, managing to keep her emotions in check. "But I fail to see how any of it concerns me. It is, after all, between you and the servant girl." Those last few words seemed harsher than she would have liked, but the twinge inside was responsible. She didn't like the idea of him having a personal life. This twinge was also responsible for her next question, which she instantly regretted as soon as the words left her mouth. "Are you aware that personal relationships are to be kept outside of the workplace, Mr. Tharme?" Now there was no doubting that she was accusing him of something, but he deserved it. He was the cause of the painful sensation inside her chest. Besides she had plentiful reason to be concerned, from her point of view. "It seems that this fever is catching, your face has become rather blotchy. Should you not value your own health over that of another servant?" How could she not note that his face was covered in red patches when he managed to meet her eyes once more? If this sickness was that contagious, would she get it merely from standing nearby? How exactly would one explain that, she wondered. To have the only ill people be herself and him would be almost conclusive in her father's mind.

Then came the question she was still processing, what exactly did she want him to do? She wasn't even sure she needed anything doing, but now she clearly needed to make something up to cover her earlier demands. "I require some large... small... a decent amount..." Yes, that was clearly not working, she needed to work on thinking through things before she said them. Then inspiration struck her, giving her a decent idea which made her look normal and not as though she had merely wanted to send him on a pointless task. "Is it not evident what I require doing?" she responded, fixing him with an expression which stated that giving her an unsure answer would be the wrong choice. "Whilst you think on that, will you be coming into the room or continuing to stand outside in the doorway like a lost puppy?"

He probably thought she was acting weirdly, which was clear from anyone's standards, although she was doing well to hide most of her odd desires. He'd probably be scared if she acted in the manner that she really wanted to, no, she didn't want to, she didn't. This was not helping, thinking that she felt a certain way and couldn't change it. That was a stupid assumption, because any emotion could be removed if you tried hard enough, she obviously wasn't trying. And she needed to try, because these thoughts she kept having were so inappropriate for someone of her status that she hated herself for even having them. Being adept at bottling up your emotions could only last so long, if she continued to accept this and not fight against it. How hard could it honestly be to make herself feel differently? She could force herself to hate him, but what good would that do? She'd tried to convince herself that she intensely disliked him when she first started to feel weird around him, but to no avail, the thoughts persisted. Foolishly, she'd believed that this would fade inside a few days and she'd be back to treating servants in a civil, yet cold, manner. It wasn't as if she could even seek treatment for her unfortunate state of mind, because that would involve making up thousands of excuses to the questions that would undoubtedly follow. No, she had to deal with this by herself.

Now their meetings, whether by purpose or mere coincidence, seemed more awkward than any other conversation she'd had in her life. She had no idea how to convince this guy that she was acting in her usual way, when small differences kept emerging in her attitude towards him. Like when she'd been polite to him, actually addressing his comment with a please in return. He couldn't have failed to notice this, although she noted he seemed to have overlooked it, perhaps for both of their sakes. People could hardly disagree that he was one of the most good-natured of men that she'd ever met, who else would act as though they hadn't heard her be overly polite towards a member of her staff? She was eternally grateful for this, again this was an unfamiliar feeling for her, but grateful hardly covered how thankful she was that he didn't react weirdly or bring it up afterwards.

As she wished. Wasn't that a line from one of the famous love stories? She was sure she'd read a book where the boy was a servant and the girl was his superior and all he said were those three words. Was her life turning into that book? No, she needed to steer clear of thinking this way and especially of books that she was now starting to compare her life to. There was clearly no similarities to be seen between that couple and herself and her father's valet. Because the girl and the boy in that book might have been deeply in love or whatever warm feelings, but there was one thing she was entirely certain about and that was that she and Corbin could never be a couple. Woah, now she was definitely treading into the wrong area of thoughts, actually having this fantasy swimming around her head. This was so wrong, she found herself thinking for what must have been the fortieth time today. "You haven't wasted my time yet," she replied as calmly as would be expected, but still the words she was saying seemed too light-hearted for an exchange between servant and employer. "I expect we shall see if you have when I review your effort." Yes, whatever that was supposed to mean.

He was aware, as she had expected, since all new servants were briefed with the same copy of rules and regulations about their places in the estate, but still she felt reassurance at hearing these words confirmed by him. "I am glad to hear of it," she responded, her eyes attempting to look at something else beside him, since he might be under the impression that she was staring at him if she never moved. "I would not like to think that such a liaison would distract from your work. My father, in particular, I feel, would not be impressed." That was a serious understatement, since she could not remember a recent time where her father had ever been impressed with what a servant had done for him. As for herself, she knew herself to be merely relieved to hear him state that he wasn't romantically pursuing anyone else in the workplace. She didn't like the idea of him dating another member of staff at all. "I do hope you expressed this feeling to the girl involved, I should not like to think that you led her on." She couldn't honestly say that she cared much for whether the girl was in love with him or not, or whether she had suffered from him not returning the same feelings. She just liked to hear what she wanted to hear.

Was that a sense of relief at hearing that he wasn't ill? She wasn't sure how she would cope if she was told that he was seriously sick or injured, but she guessed it would not be in a way that her family would approve of. She was happy enough to accept what he said, up until the last point of his reason for the rising redness in his cheeks. "It's relatively cold today," she stated, a little confusion appearing in her face. "Unless you are now claiming to be from a country like Norway where these temperatures are particularly warm?" He couldn't really expect her to believe that he found this lukewarm atmosphere too hot, did he? "If you find yourself blushing at the mention of romance amongst your colleagues, we shall say no more about it." Because that also made so much sense coming from her, right? She'd realised that he was more than likely blushing at something she had said, but seeing as that was the only topic likely to bring about such a reaction, she felt obliged to leave it alone.

She locked eyes on him again, just catching the glimpse of a smile crossing his face before he relaxed into a normal manner again. He had such a cute smile, she noticed, before instantly wishing she hadn't noticed this. Now she was always going to be thinking on it, unless she finally managed to rid her head of this peculiar sensation. Fighting the small urge to smile at this thought, she cleared her head hearing his response. "Obviously I would like you to be in my bedroom." Oh, woah. That sounded so wrong, she found herself fighting back a furious red face that was threatening to invade her cheeks with every second that passed. "By which, I mean I would like you to be in this room to help me with certain tasks." This was hardly getting much better, she needed to act normally. "If I wanted you to stand anywhere else, I wouldn't have asked." Managing to regain her typical posture, she nodded in answer to his question, feeling no need to speak anymore for the time being, until she could stop her mouth saying things that were clearly wrong.

The blushing that was threatening to show on her face had died down in ferocity since she’d made the obvious mistake of using that phrase a few moment ago as she continued to act as though she couldn’t feel the warmth still rising inside her body. Trying to ignore this, she breathed in and out slowly, although this was completely inaudible as she kept her gaze locked on his face, finding it difficult to persuade her eyes to move from him. Fortunately he wasn’t exactly in a situation where he could inquire as to why she kept staring at him; maybe he’d simply think that she was waiting impatiently for something? Maybe he wouldn’t even notice, he seemed to be struggling to meet her eyes that often still, so there was every chance that he hadn’t noticed that she could barely find the self-control to look at anything other than him. Was she so weak-minded that it was impossible for her to think of anything else while he was standing nearby? Surely she had been brought up in such a way which made it theoretically an easy situation to handle, but these teachings never covered her particular predicament and there was no way on earth that she would ever consider broaching a hypothetical to anyone who could shed light on the situation. They’d think she was crazy and possibly fire the person responsible, which she couldn’t risk happening. She didn’t want her selfish inability to control her emotions being the reason for him losing his job.

Did he honestly think that she thought of him in that low a position compared to her? He must, given his words in thanks for merely saying he wasn’t currently wasting her time. It was hardly something to be appreciative of; she’d made it sound as though she was begrudgingly giving him a half compliment. She felt uncomfortable with the idea that she had given him the impression that she was so much better than he was, merely because of their birth circumstances. If it were anyone else, she probably would have neglected to care about what they thought, but since it was he, she found herself worried that she had been more insensitive than she had wanted to appear. “You’re not unworthy of my time,” she stated, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, trying not to seem as concerned about a servant as she was inside. “You’re still a person.” That seemed to sum up her feelings on the subject as she continued to feel somewhat uneasy at the thought of him believing that she looked down on him, when the exact opposite was the truth. She was forced to act in a certain way because of their positions in society.

She shook her head, frowning. “He might be civil in agreeing to give people employment here, but he is not generous.” Those words were perhaps a little odd to be coming from his own offspring, but it was true. He was occasionally more inclined to gift his children with whatever their little hearts desired and did appear to love them, but he was bad at showing it. He didn’t even make the effort to get them the things they wanted, preferring to pass the job onto one of his servants. She couldn’t help but glance up at Corbin, wondering if he was always the person who was responsible for the gifts she frequently received on behalf of her father. “I dare say there is a reason why we are rich and that will not be down to his generosity.” Was she feeling bad for judging her father in this way? Not particularly, she loved and cared for her parents but even she was not so blind to their faults as to not realise how they treated the people they believed to be their inferiors but also how they acted towards their ‘equals.’ “But it is nice to know that my satisfaction is so important to you.” She couldn’t help but sound sarcastic in this statement, but it was entirely sincere, she was rather pleased to hear that she was relatively high up on his list of those to impress.

“I did suspect that much,” she answered, showing her agreement with his statement, although she hardly needed to show any regard or interest for where he came from originally. In truth, she knew where he was born; hating that she seemed to care about this detail of his life, and surely this was also inappropriate? He’d barely mentioned it either, which meant she’d actually asked her father as to where his new valet originated. Her disdain for having to ask this question (even when she’d waited until she and her father were alone before speaking) was not as evident as her father’s confusion at hearing a request to know where his servant grew up. If she had to say anything about this particular discussion it would have consisted more of how surprised she was that her father had even listened to the applicant long enough to know where the boy came from. But he’d overlooked this question; perhaps he thought nothing more of it than a burst of curiosity from his daughter that he decided wasn’t offensive enough not to warrant the truth. “Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself. She was, of course, referring to his explanation about being warmer than the average person. She couldn’t see any valid reason why this would be so, unless he was deliberately hiding the whole truth from her, although she couldn’t see why he would do this.

Romance wasn’t a big part of his life? But he said it as though it had been important at some point and despite all reason not to, she felt the sudden need to ask him all the questions that were jumping into her head. Resisting this unsatisfactory urge, she bit her lip, before speaking again. Was it bad of her to hope that romance was never a part of his life whilst she knew him? It seemed rather selfish and mean of her to wish a single life on someone, but she didn’t want to think of him associating with any other girl for long periods of time. She knew that her jealousy was a problem for even the littlest things, but part of her was grateful that he was the servant of her father, rather than any of her sisters. She probably would have hated any female relative who had his company more than her. As far as she was concerned, he was also her servant, not that she thought that he belonged to her because that was just a ridiculous thought, but he spent more time with her, excepting her father, than anyone else in the house. Honestly, this was probably down to the fact that she went out of her way to find excuses for him to be around her more often, whether it was a small task or a never-ending one. “I meant in my room,” she randomly confirmed for the third time, unable to stop herself from wanting to correct the sentence which could easily have been corrupted.

“I would like a second opinion on a dress,” she stated simply, as though it wasn’t a weird request of a Dalton to be making to a servant. It was almost phrased as though she was merely asking one of her friends to tell her whether a dress made her look fat, yet it was posed to him, rather than any of the other people surrounding her. “But the box is too high for me to reach.” She turned around sharply to indicate towards a white box on the top of the nearest wardrobe to where she was standing, expecting nothing other than an agreement from him, since this would not be the hardest task she had ever set for him. In fact, it might have seemed a simple and rather pointless request to make, but it was nowhere near the standard of some of the orders she’d given him in the past few months. “Would you be so kind as to pass it down to me?” Again, she was giving him requests, rather than making demands that he had no choice to follow, it was a weird feeling to come to terms with, even at this point in time. She didn’t want to treat him with contempt however, unless someone else happened to join them. If that were to happen, she would instantly revert to her cold manner of dealing with the staff, pretending that she was ignorant of their feelings.

Now she knew that she was acting weirdly, by the reactions he was showing in response to the things she was saying and doing. She really needed to get a grip and stop being a stereotypical teenage girl with some stupid childhood crush. No, it wasn't a crush, she wasn't even going to admit that much, that was to confirm everything that should never occur. Why couldn't she be as cold towards servants as her older sister, or more especially like her mother? Neither of them were acting in such a stupid way, like she couldn't behave normally around someone else just because they happened to be a member of the opposite sex. So, she needed to convince herself and everyone else that it wasn't even a crush, she was just thinking unfortunate things about someone who happened to be one of her family's servants. Right, what could be more simple than that? The problem came when she attempted to convince herself, she could manage the pretence that was to be used around her relatives and other servants, but wouldn't that lead to Corbin thinking she was some kind of two-faced idiot? He probably thought this already, despite her best efforts to avoid him noticing that she couldn't help but be more civil than was expected of someone in her family.

Breathing in once again, in a further attempt to keep her voice as normal as she could, she fixed him with what she was confident was one she usually faced servants with. Why did it bother her so much whether he viewed their status difference as a reason to see her as a much more 'noble' person than himself? She wished she could honestly say that she didn't care whether he thought she was a snob and treated him and his colleagues with the same contempt as she was conditioned to do, but she found herself unable to fully agree with this statement. She couldn't let him think that she was entirely different from him, when the only thing separating them was class, rather than anything important. Wait, did she just think that their statuses weren't important? Now she was definitely losing her mind through this confusing emotion-filled situation. She knew that status was vital in her parents' world and that it should have been the one thing that she was just as concerned about, but should that mean that she wasn't allowed to talk to them like other people? She'd much rather spend an evening ordering him around, without exchanging a word than spend another dull outing with rich but exhaustingly boring friends of her family. "We're both just people," she responded, trying not to express everything she felt inside.

Did he honestly feel that way about her father, she wondered or was he merely saying it for her benefit? Maybe he thought this was some sort of test to try and get him to reveal his true feelings about his employer where he could easily fail. But she'd expressed her own distaste at how little he would actually do for a person, regardless of whether he happened to be the one who provided jobs for a numerous amount of working class people. The one thing she secretly thanked her father for was that she had the opportunity to talk to his valet without being questioned. "I'm sure that's an exaggeration," she said, hardly believing that his best moments in life had developed as a result of working for her family. What would he have to make the job so enjoyable? This curiosity won and fought its way out of her head and into audible words. "What is it that makes this job so precious?" Now she was definitely crossing the border of normal servant and noble conversation, in fact she wasn't sure that any conversations had even been this long.

She couldn't help but notice they had a similar habit in biting their lips, whether that was because of the evident awkwardness that she was leaving for him to ignore or because it was something they were both equally inclined to do when they were nervous. She knew why she might be nervous, but she couldn't see much reason as to why he would also be feeling this way. Perhaps it was because he was anxious about upsetting her and losing the job that he professed to love and treasure. Did they have other habits in common? What if they were more similar than even she had realised? There was no point entertaining the idea of these 'what-ifs', she knew, because nothing could ever happen which would permit her to find out how similar they might be. It seemed painful to realise that they might have countless similarities which were prevented from ever being seen together because of the one prominent difference between them - their statuses. "I would think you would want to do your job to the best of your ability anyway" she commented, not fully understanding what he was trying to say with this remark.

"The accent is pretty strong," she agreed without any hesitation, a small smile appearing on her face. However, this faded almost as quickly as it appeared. Had he noticed that she seemed to stumble over the ideas of him dating anyone else? It appeared so, to the extent that he had the audacity to ask her about what she truly wanted to say. She stood, frowning as though he'd done something startling or unforgivable by outright requesting to know what she had been thinking. "Excuse me?" she said rather suddenly, still the surprised expression at realising that he had indeed spoken out of turn, but not appearing angry but instead confused. "What is it exactly that you think I would want to say?" There was no way on this earth that she would ever consider saying the things she was thinking, let alone tell the person that was at the heart of making her feel and think these strange things. To do so would be disgraceful by her family's ideals and regulations and she had no intention of breaking them for something that could never happen. "Or perhaps it is you who has something that he would like to say?" This suggestion, she hoped, would be enough to distract him from asking her any further questions about what she wanted to say, but obviously could not.

She was more than content with her excuse to keep him standing nearby for longer, since it was not exactly a outward lie either. She probably could benefit from a second opinion on the new dress she had received, although she knew the question that would be entering his thoughts at that moment. Sensing this confusion at thinking her request over, she answered it immediately. "A male opinion," she spoke, as though correcting her first statement. "I require a male opinion of the dress." This made it easy to see why she wouldn't ask her own servant to do this small task for her. Nodding once more at his final question, she was relieved that she didn't have to think about anything that was involved int the sudden urgent errand she'd made up only a few minutes earlier. Then, suddenly changing her mind, she brushed past him and grabbed the box for herself, before abruptly turning around and realising how strange this instant change of mind would appear. She also couldn't help but notice that in doing so the space between their bodies had closened slightly, although maybe she was seeing more than was actually there. "I thought I could manage that bit myself," she offered as a bad explanation, unable to reason as to why she'd suddenly almost knocked him off his feet in her rush towards her bed.

She couldn't believe that she was finding it this difficult to keep her emotions in check and control her movements to the extent that she was now turning the opposite direction entirely. Now there was no doubt in her mind that he must have thought she was acting very oddly, given how she kept changing from giving sharp comments one moment but then adopting a softer tone only seconds later. Why couldn't she just cope with this in an efficient and typical manner for someone of her status? And why was it so easy to forget that she wasn't supposed to be talking to a servant like this? Her mind couldn't overlook the fact that there was a enormous line in class between them, it kept forcing itself to the front of her mind every time she appeared too close to making an obvious mistake. It was always in the back of her thoughts, whether he was present or not, as though she needed it for constant reminder of the lines she could so easily cross but face severe consequences for even thinking of doing so. Never in her life had she ever been so grateful to know that her parents could not read minds. There was enough of them to condemn her from ever talking to another servant again, but that would be nothing compared to the anger she would receive at her silly and ridiculous thoughts.

Clearly, whatever she was doing was not good enough to hide it completely. Maybe she needed a new strategy, but she'd tried the most apparent idea of ignoring and going out of her way to avoid servants in general, but besides from being almost impossible, it looked even more suspicious. Even if she claimed she hated being around people of a lower class to herself, there was no reason why she should not have tolerated their company for a short few minutes to provide her with the necessities for the day. She found her eyes unconsciously meeting with his own again, before moving her head in frustration, attempting not to make it so obvious that she found it hard not to look at him whenever he was nearby. Was he even aware of how difficult this was for her, she wondered? Of course he wasn't, what servant would suspect that one of their employer's daughters had a crush on them that made them act as though they couldn't stop saying whatever came into their mouth first. It was practically all his fault and he hadn't even the faintest idea about what one look in her direction could do, let alone the warmth she felt hugging her body when he gave her a rare smile. Outside of the company of other people of course, he probably wasn't as stupid as to risk something like that in the presence of her parents also. "You don't have to thank me for saying something that is clearly true."

He was such a strange servant. She had always suspected that he was slightly different from the average person working for her family, but this confirmed what she had always considered. She still couldn't see why anyone would appreciate working for someone like her father who seemed to express gratitude about once every year, so why would he tolerate such a position? Her parents often told her stories about how the working class people at their estate were willing to work for any amount of money, owing to the need to earn whatever they could to support their families. These people were earning at an age where she had been demanding the most expensive dresses she could find. Why was it that him merely being here was enough to make these past demands sit on her conscience? She'd never even cared about money before, but he appeared to do anything required of him simply to earn whatever he could, making her feel the same awkwardness again at the comparison one could make between them. "You have friends?" she asked, before realising that this question might have come out the wrong way, as though she was astonished that he would have any companions. Friends that were made through being in similar circumstances apparently. She raised an eyebrow at his statement. "Are you recommending that I take up some form of employment here to gain the benefit of everything you speak of?" She couldn't help but notice that his words were phrased almost to that of someone equal to himself when it was evident that they could never be equal.

Without any warning, the twinge moved back into her chest, feeling it move more painfully when he mentioned that the people he had met made his job worthwhile. Was she actually jealous? Jealous of servants now? This was sinking lower and lower in expectations for a girl like herself, being envious of people who lived in conditions below luxury and yet she was jealous of them. The reason being obvious, even to her. He would be referring to his friends, the people he could relate to, whereas she wouldn't even be on the list of people he loved working here for. It was too much, and seeing as she had never been one for thinking things over for much longer than a few seconds, she found herself once again revealing too much emotion in the words she spoke. "Is there anyone in particular..?" she wasn't even sure how to end that sentence, feeling it was probably better to stop before she started telling him everything. That was something to avoid at all costs, he had to think, along with everyone else, that her feelings had never changed.

She noticed when their smiles appeared at the same time, making her aware of how wrong this civil conversation was becoming. Why was he making her smile, without even doing anything now? It was something that continued to perplex her, but not for long enough to make her gain the ability to recover her normal expression. Now she'd been that stupid, how could he not notice there was something unusual about her as of lately? She could have mentally kicked herself for this slip-up. Meeting his eyes, she bit her lip to stop herself returning to the all-too-happy expression of a few minutes earlier before she was satisfied that she could control her face once more. Was there anything he could do for her? Yes, lots of things that she would have been happy for him to do for her, but none of these were things she could ever say outside of her own head. It was best to shake her head and act as though she was content with the current progress he was making in his task set. Why did he have to ask her these normal but thought-provoking questions? Once more she found herself fighting the urge to speak her mind. "Yes," she began, before realising that this was the wrong answer. "I mean, no, I think we've said all there is say." Except all of the things that were racing through her mind at the very mention of having anything to say to him. Those things didn't count, they never could count and the sooner she managed to understand that, the better.

It didn't take much for her to sense that he definitely thought she was acting strangely, what with her sudden change of mind about a simple question. And it took just as much time for her to realise that she rather liked this three word sentence, despite its repetition, as though indicating that he would fulfill any request she ever made of him. Attempting to reassure the man that she wasn't acting out of character, she found herself reverting to the same small smile from earlier, as she explained her reasons for rushing past him. "I have to learn to do some things for myself, right?" she began, forgetting that she seemed kinder than she was supposed to be. "Besides, I thought you'd appreciate a small break from answering my ongoing demands." Now she'd ruined it, she was definitely being nicer than she should and how could he fail to notice that? Coughing as though she thought this would cover up her mistake, she looked as nonchalant as she possibly could, before returning his frown. "Are you intending to turn around anytime soon, or will you be happier to watch?" There was no way that she could have him watching her change without feeling the blush spread to the rest of her body, including the obvious colour that would invade her face.

What chance did she have of behaving normally when she couldn't even convince herself that this wasn't a big deal? How could it not be considered a big deal though? How many times had a noble had a crush on a member of their staff? She was willing to bet the number was closer to zero than any other statistic she could think of, but now she'd managed to challenge the percentage and tradition and everything that made a Daltons the people they were. She'd believed that it was just a phase that would wear out, but now she was reaching the point of finding this difficult to believe. Firstly, she was pretty confident that a phase only lasted a few months, but she'd been feeling wrong for almost the entirety of this year. Phases didn't tend to last this long, did they? She would have liked more than anything for someone to disagree with this and reassure her that this was not anything to worry about. But of course she didn't believe this and also there was the problem of her not being able to talk to anyone about how she felt, they'd probably think as she had - that she was ill. It would never be a normal thing to think about, as far as they were concerned, and even she knew it deep down that these thoughts would only ever be that - thoughts that she could never act on.

If she knew that she would not be instantly judged for having these kinds of feelings, she probably would have taken up the topic with one of her sisters, but they could not relate and the confidential information would almost definitely ultimately end up being heard by either one or both of her parents. Not only was she worried about what anyone who knew how she felt would say, but she was scared. She didn't know what to do and she was clearly failing at keeping her odd thoughts to herself. She'd never been in this situation before and keeping this all to herself was harder than she thought, she was desperate for it end. But she knew that nothing could ever happen to end these thoughts, unless she suddenly woke up one day and didn't particularly like him anymore. Each night she went to sleep, she'd had this seemingly impossible occurrence at the back of her mind, but never did it happen. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse than before, with every accidental meeting she had, by walking into him in the corridors, when she was lacking the attention to see where she was going. It apparently became stronger whenever she saw him, whether words were spoken or not, it didn't seem to matter. She could feel her heart leap each time she noticed him in the distance, to the point that she felt physically sick at the thought of not being able to ever express this feeling to anyone else.

Of course she knew that this was the only reason she couldn't act as she used to, given her little crush, there was no doubt in her mind that if she did not feel this way that she would treat every servant with the manner that she had been taught. Now she seemed to think somewhat differently about the people that also resided in her house, although none of them were treated in the same way that her father's valet was. No other servant was told to go and get something random which had only just appeared inside her head at the moment he asked for his orders. Using these moments together as an opportunity to see him more often, without looking suspicious in what she was doing was possibly one of her better ideas. Except she wasn't sure that he entirely appreciated the extra time they spent together when he was generally running around more than anyone else he worked with. "You have never been thanked before?" she spoke suddenly, frowning at the idea of him doing all this work without any gratitude. She found herself increasingly more frequently thanking various servants for passing her something or ironing her clothes, everyday tasks that were expected of them. She knew that this was also his fault, he'd made her turn into a less harsh version of the girl she used to be and now she was showing other servants appreciation for the normal things they did, they probably thought she was ill as well.

She lifted her head to face him, although this was not as easy as she might have wished, since he seemed to not want to look her in the eyes. Tilting her head to the side, as though deep in thought again, she paused for a few seconds before answering his question. "I confess I do not know," she replied, telling him the complete truth, without even intending to. "I cannot say that I have friends that are of the same nature as yours. I have acquaintances who would like me to act as though we are friends, but I care not for their company." Why exactly was she telling him all of this? She wasn't sure, but she felt comfortable having the ability to talk to someone as freely as she wanted to, although she had to ignore his occasional looks of surprise at her tone towards him. "Since you have taken it upon yourself to ban me from working with you, perhaps I shall never know." This wasn't to be taken seriously, although she kept the monotone voice she was supposed to use towards a servant, but there was no way that she was seriously considering taking a job in her own house and less chance of her parents allowing her to do so. She had no trouble imagining that a guy like Corbin would be popular, since everything about him screamed that he would be a good friend to have. Cue the pang of jealousy.

"In particular." The repetition of the same words didn't make her question sound any better, or less odd. But still she could not deny that she wanted, needed to know the answer to this inquisitive comment. She wanted to know that there was indeed one particular individual that made his job worthwhile, but she wanted to hear the one word that he would clearly never say. She wanted to hear him name her as the person that made him so unwilling to give up his job, but this was a pointless desire, one that would never be fulfilled. Once again the sweet sense of relief at not hearing another girl's name rushed across her body, but still the disappointment at not hearing her name from his lips remained. "You expect me to believe that the tasks you are set or the company of my father are enough to make your appreciation for this job that high?" There was no way that he was going to reveal to her if there was someone, although it was not a good move to make if he was lying to her, but she could not believe that he would do so intentionally. Since she could not tell him which name he should have said, the silence fell between them again.

Yep, she'd definitely messed up this time and even he knew it, everyone present knew it, which admittedly wasn't a great number but still too many in her opinion. She had no answer to his first remark, it seemed, mostly because it was perfectly logical why a servant should want to serve their employer and rather illogical for the 'superior' to want to do things for themselves. Putting on an expression which demonstrated that she knew what she was doing and made it seem as though it was him acting weirdly, she shrugged slightly. "There will eventually come a day when you aren't around to help me, C-" She stopped suddenly, alarmed at her unexpected end to that sentence that she thankfully cut off abruptly. "I dare say it will become a useful skill that I am able to, at the very least, dress myself." Her eyes were locked on him, past the point where he seemed to be ashamed of failing to look away, which she was not as offended by as he might have thought. Eventually tearing her eyes away, she quickly changed from one dress to the one that had previously been folded in a box and found herself unconsciously returning her gaze to that of the man standing in front of her. A small grin formed on her face as she surveyed his abashed expression, confident in the knowledge that he would not see her staring when he was facing the other way. If anything this red face at hearing her last question made her smile more, thinking him to be something she'd never considered before. She thought that her father's valet was cute. Could things get any more messed up? Clearing her throat quietly, she gave him very little time to turn around before speaking. "I trust you will be nothing less than honest, Mr. Tharme." Unlike her concealing the truth.