Victoria tossed aimlessly in her warm merino wool blanket, canopy bed. She could not fathom any thought that would encourage sleep to arrest her. The book she was reading, named 'A break in time' had become tedious, and her interest in continuing it became waning. Her thoughts, like a windmill, rewound the happenings of the previous day.
Yes, many suitors had come to profess their wants in addition to showcasing their charms, but something was lacking. There was no spark, as her sister Amelia had always stated 'the spark of love'. –Her sister, indeed, had more familiarity, in her overly romantic books about love – she was a well-informed individual, that girl. More than her fifteen years of age– So, in respect to Amelia's idea of love, Victoria felt none for any. Prince Edward did appease her, but she would be averagely delighted to know him much more... or maybe she was judging this acquaintance too quickly. Maybe the spark would indeed come to life in some future time.
She thought of her mother –Her wants to like one of the many suitors, and her brother, Andrew. She barely understood why Andrew was so intent on scaring away her suitors. She wondered what gossip society would spread if she were to finish the year without securing a husband. She would indeed be laughed at and regarded in the most unappealing manner.
Adding to her worries, was the fact that they had just relocated to London, and need to create the best picture and name for the family was needed.
Her father, the Earl, seemed to have no interest in returning to Lancaster, north of England, with the family. He appeared to handle Lancaster demands on his own while the rest of his family settled into the London mansion.
These thoughts weighed heavily on Victoria's mind, that she decided to go downstairs, hoping to find something to drink that might ease the tension in her nerves. She hoped to at least have some milk – her favorite drink.
With that, she hopped out of bed, threw a small, well-embroidered red and white bed cover on herself, and started her way out and down the stairs.
The wall clock had just ticked three, and Victoria sighed, realizing it was still hours before daylight. Five more hours needed to pass by.
To her surprise, the kitchen door was open, and the lights on. However, she assumed that the guards or the kitchen servants had probably forgotten to keep them off.
Without a word, she stepped into the kitchen, and, right by the fireplace, she found the guard – Knight – tirelessly trying to light a fire.
She thus, silently stood at the doorway, observing him.
In his left hand, he held a brown piece of paper, and in his right, some firewood. He was quite engrossed in the paper, as if trying to decipher its meaning. Additionally, the fact that he could read amazed Victoria more, making her mind tolerate the creepiness she was doing by the kitchen door.
Victoria noticed that he still had his balaclava on, which made her wonder if the heat wouldn't cause him to sweat profusely. Nevertheless, she rubbed the thoughts, with the knowledge that guards sure knew what their head guard deemed best for them.
Again and again, Knight tried lighting the fire, but to no avail, leading to him squatting in frustration, and still not yet noticing Victoria. He was not a quitter, he! Thus, he went back to the paper, and interesting to Victoria, he started the whole process again. From using the flint and steel to trying fire irons, as he did not want to use the matches, as it would cause a lot of daytime drama if they were to be found finished.
Finally, on his last attempt – having lost count of how many he'd tried – the fire caught, and he jumped with joy, only to look at the door and find a smiling Victoria.
Surprised and startled, he dropped the piece of paper and the jerry can that had paraffin, leading Lady Victoria to gasp as Knight scrambled to stop the paraffin from spilling everywhere.
"I know where mother places the rest of it, let me come…" With that, Victoria took the can towards the next store near the kitchen.
She knew the kitchen workers would be overly questioned for the spilled paraffin. She sometimes detested how overly strict her mother was when it came to kitchen orderliness.
Once in the store, she found the red container packed with paraffin and carefully poured the paraffin into the can until wherever she thought it stood before the action – quarter way up. With that, she went back to the kitchen, where Knight was wiping off the paraffin on the floor and had already placed some milk on the lighted fire.
"Who told you I take milk?" It was more of a playful statement as she smiled, but Knight mistook it and was surprised, leading him to try to touch the saucepan and burnt his right hand on the process. He was nervous, and this was the first time he realized he was clumsy when nervous.
"It's alright, a little bad playful statement that was. Does it hurt?" Worried, Lady Victoria asked, coming close to Knight, near the fireplace to check his left hand.
He had removed his gloves while preparing the fire, so his thumb and parts of his other fingers were a little burnt. Victoria took in Knight's hand, without his permission, and checked it out a little.
"Am sorry!" She apologized, as once again their eyes connected, both staring at each other for a while and,
"Sister!" Andrew's voice was heard behind them..., and Knight coldly looked at the fireplace after Victoria quickly let go of Knight's hand.
"Up so early?" Andrew added, coming close to Victoria, who had further walked away from Knight and wherever he stood on the fireplace.
"I wanted some milk, to ease my nerves," she replied overly looking around, her voice tense.
"Is it ready!" Andrew commanded looking at Knight, and Knight nodded, as his brain wondered what item the kitchen servants used to remove the saucepan from the fire.
"Serve then!" Andrew added, leading to Knight lacking judgment and confidence, by using his soft hands to remove the sauce and put the milk into two cups, as he hastily placed the saucepan on the floor from the burn. Andrew took the two cups, without acknowledging if Knight was okay or not, and offered Victoria one, whose blue eyes were in hurt observing Knight as they left the kitchen.
Knight's hands suffered blisters, especially his fingertips. He had never found himself lacking in confidence and making rush decisions to please anyone on top, out of a man's commands. His hands were red, and he could feel the wince of the pain once his eyes looked at the saucepan. He quietly rose from his squatting position, which he did unknowingly due to the pain, placed the saucepan where he found it on some nails, dragged the duster he used to clean the paraffin back to its position, and lastly took the can of paraffin that Victoria had left on the door back to its place. He then poured some cold water on his hands as he winced in pain, knowing so well by daylight, his hands would be a whole showpiece of pink and purple.
After, as he was leaving the kitchen, Andrew came in face to face with him, on the door...
"Sister, is in no of your league. Keep off!" He demanded, heading inside the kitchen as Knight left for the living room door frame where he stood. He folded back the paper which Lord Hordy had given him back to his pocket and slowly put on his gloves checking his burnt blisters once more.
"What happened?" The other guard questioned, his face lingering on Andrew who was walking up the stairs.
"Nothing!" Knight coldly replied.
"He protects Lady Victoria much!" The guard added, making Knight comprehend an idea that this guard would tell him more about Victoria.
"Why does he?"
"Like all brothers. But Beaufot, Lord Beaufot and Lord Christian are different. They barely have a say in this house. And even back in Lancaster, the two seemed to just exist in here. He just roars and demands them around."
"What of Lady Victoria?" Knight questioned, his ears sharp to listen and understand.
"You should stop having much acquaintances with her. You might lose your job like the previous. He became so close to her lady, leading to Lord Andrew dispersing him."
"He is no Earl, isn't he? And acts like one?" Knight emphasized, trying to drive more detail from the fellow guard.
"The Earl barely even cares about the happenings in here, all he does is wear his day off in the library. As long as everyone is paid, and the Lancaster people and fields are producing adversely, he is alright."
"He is hard to read!" Knight honestly added, relieving the moments he has observed the Earl ever since coming here.
"An aging man who analyzes behavior through one sight. You wish not see him much… he might tell you an honest truth without you realizing."
"Sure be, he barely knows me." Knight whispered, making the other guard chuckle.
"Least known my fellow? You think?" He sarcastically called out, "The Earl transparently knows all of you… He conducts his in-depth research before appointing someone, especially in a position as this you and I stand." Chuckling, "Of course he knows you… and our bloody families…"
This statement made Knight quietly scared, as the urge to see the Earl of Lancaster again to fully acknowledge if indeed he knew him as stated – perhaps he, looking at him, or overly staring at him. Those are the techniques most observant beings had according to Knight; otherwise, the observer is no observer enough.
Thus, as they stood on the door waiting for morning, Knight rewound all occurrences and acts of the Earl of Lancaster. During serving time, Knight had observed that the Earl ate quite fast and barely spoke to his children, except for the Countess who was always starting conversations, and the children would laugh and talk of them; as if the Earl was barely present in the table. After finishing his food, he would quietly stand and head back to his library, without his children acknowledging he is gone, in addition to without them quieting the story time and laughters.