Chapter 3

• Oliver was standing in the middle of his small room in East London.
• This had been his home for the past few months and he had to admit he might miss the place. 
• It was the attic of an old house, governed by Lady Eleanore. The owner had initially refused to accept bachelors, such as he was at an age, perfect for a young man to start thinking of getting into a more serious contract with a lady, but when offered the handsome sum of money Oliver offered, lady Eleanore agreed to have him.  
• The morning sun rays made the dust dance in the small room, but Oliver knew rain was coming. The weather changed so fast in London at that time of the year.
• He didn't have much, anyway, except for a few books and a few pairs of suits. 
• Oliver  wasn't sure if he'd need any of them, though, as he was going to have a uniform for his new job. 
• He was going to be the valet in one of the richest family not only in entire London and England but as things with the family's trade was going, probably the most influential family in Europe. He had to be punctual and meet His Lordship at exactly 10 am, and Oliver never allowed himself to be late. 
• He left the keys in the lounge, and as he didn't know almost anyone in the big house, headed out in the cold September morning. 
• Oliver had one more thing to do before going to the big mansion in the richest part of the city- say goodbye to his sister. 
• Emma also lived in a boarding house, like many unmarried women. The woman who owned the place, however, accepted even women who'd lost their husbands and had no one to provide for them an they seemed to be a peculiar group of inhabitants.
• The maid opened the door and he waited for his sister in the parlor. 
• She showed up shortly. Emma hugged him and he leaned, so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. 
• "I can count the times I've seen you for the past five years on the fingers of my left hand." The smile on her face stilled when another thought passed her mind "You look tired, have you been eating well?"
• Oliver knew he was still twice bigger than most men, but had to admit that not sleeping was probably showing on his face. 
• "Everything's all right. I just came to say goodbye."
• "Goodbye? But you just came back to London." Emma complained. "I can't say I even know where you were."
• "Just working with another lord." He smiled.
• "Are you really going there? I received your letter, but I couldn't believe it."
• "I am, I am Lord Tennyson's new valet. " 
• Emma clasped her hands. She had always been one of the most beautiful women he could think of. He was sure had she been born in a noble family, she'd be the queen of many hearts and numerous men would want to have her as a wife. if only...
• "I want to know how everything is. Please, write more often from now on." Emma pleaded. Her dress wasn't much newer than his coat and he took a mental note. 
• "I will. And I will send you a beautiful dress with my first salary."
• "No, Oliver. You've been supporting us enough so far. Don't look back on us and this life you're leaving behind."
• "I'm not leaving behind anything, just..." he began, but his sister said quickly.
• "Brother. I'm no lady of noble origin, that's why I allow myself to interrupt you and say- embrace your new life there."
• "I am not going to ..."
• "No, listen to me. You went through enough."
• "But things are different now. You know that, Emma."
• "I do. Yet, you're the only one I have after our parents' death."
• "Everything's been well, I assure you. "
• She looked at him, still not trusting him, and said
• "Take more care of yourself, it's all I ask of you. I have the household now and the Lady I'm tending to has been very caring. But it's time for you to start your life. Promise me."
• He exhaled and reminded himself any arguing with Emma was futile. 
• "All right. I promise you."
• They embraced each other one last time. He wrapped his big hands around his sister's slim figure and was again was reminded how much weight she'd lost. He knew her life wasn't as easy as she tried to persuade him to think it was. 
• Oliver went out and headed for the market. It was getting late and the streets were full of people. Horses and old, moldy carriages were moving around and he waved for one. 
• Oliver shared the address and the man laughed. 
• "Don't fuck with me, boy. What would you do there? Besides, I can't take you, they'll hang me for just near the property. "
• Oliver showed him a handful of coins. He knew no one from the poorer parts would risk it unless offered a very good sum of money. Oliver's last, for that matter, but nothing could be done. 
• The man picked a coin with his dirty hand and bit at it. He was missing teeth and Oliver wondered what the man was checking, anyway. After a close evaluation, the man said.
• "Right. Hop on. But I can't drive much up. I'll leave you and you walk from there." 
• Oliver smiled and got on. 
• He checked his pocket watch - 30 minutes to ten. Perfect. He crossed the long walk from where the man left him and was now crossing the front gate of lord Tennyson's mansion. 
• The big Victorian gardens were bright green, beautiful flowers blooming, even though they weren't supposed to be at that time of the year. Oliver didn't know anything about gardening, but he could recognize many of the plants didn't belong to the European continent at all. He didn't even want to count how many people were necessary to maintain the garden, let alone the rest of the house.
• The gardeners were nowhere to be seen, of course- as it was probably the time for visits in His Lordship's study and guests should never see any of the personnel. 
• He was starting to get anxious he may, in fact, not make it on time, as only the front garden would take minutes to cross. 
• The place was enormous.
• The manor was like five houses put together into one. He counted three stories and more than twenty French windows and balconies. He couldn't imagine what the back yard would be like. 
• He took a deep breath, did his best to straighten his suit, and said almost aloud.
• "In the name of the Queen, don't mess this up, Oliver. "                 
• ****
• He was instructed to use the servants' entrance, which was to the side. An old man in an impeccable back suit with the traditional white shirt and a white bow tie greeted him. He was most likely the manager of the Household Servants. 
• "Pleased to meet you, Sir. I'm Oliver Abram- Lord Tennyson's new valet." He outstretched his arm, but the man didn't return the greeting. 
• Oliver too back his hand, while the other man seized him up and down. "You must have a very good recommendation to be hired, especially dressed like that. "
• Oliver knew that even though he was wearing his best clothes, they were of much lower quality than the ones even the cleaning staff wore. 
• "This way, and try not to ask too many questions. Lord Tennyson hates them and he never wants to talk to valets personally, so I will assume you're better at what you do. I am Thomas, and you will be responsible to me." The man was instructing as they were walking up the big stairs. 
• Oliver tried not to stare too much. The walls were covered in portraits- previous lords and nobility from the family, he guessed. Crystal polileums were hanging from the high ceilings and the heavily decorated oak tables in the lounge were covered with souvenirs, golden statues, and small figures made of ebony and ivory with gold. 
• Oliver could sell a single piece of those and feed an entire family for a whole year.
• "Do not gossip, do not touch the other maids." Thomas was still speaking as they approached a big, heavy door with ornaments.
• Oliver's feet were sinking in the soft, richly decorated carpet and he was starting to forget what he was here for. 
• "Don't answer unless you're asked, and don't do anything inappropriate. This is probably the first and last time you'll speak to the lord directly, so don't embarrass yourself and me. As I said - I'm your direct superior. " Thomas stopped and turned abruptly towards Oliver. The younger man almost flinched. 
• "Are we clear, boy?"
• "Yes, Sir. Clear. "
• "Good." The butler checked his silver pocket watch " 10 seconds to ten. Ideal." 
• He was clearly more controlling than Olived had first thought. 
• Thomas opened the door and announced "Oliver Abram, Lord Tennyson. He's here for the position of the new valet. " 
• Thomas urged him in and Oliver saw a man of the age of around fifty, staring out the big French window. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was wearing a dark suit with a black cravat. The garments were beautifully decorated and he was wearing a rich jacquard in deep red- the only bold stroke to the overall dark attire. He was impeccable, even dressed in his home. 
• The man turned slowly and smiled. He was tall, but not as tall as Oliver. Although not many men were as tall as he was, he remembered. 
• "Very well, Thomas. Thank you and close the door on your way out. " The butler looked between the two of them and only nodded. 
• "Yes, Sir. Ring the bell for me if you need anything." 
• Lord Tennyson wasn't in the habit of meeting servants, Oliver remembered. Thomas must've been shocked by all that and probably thought Oliver might steal something. 
• Once the two men were alone in the room, lord Tennyson pulled out a cigarette from a tabaquera with the family crest in gold on it.
• Oliver had noticed the symbol on the front gate and on a few more places - red, gold, and black with the name of the family on it.
• Fernsby- one of the oldest royal families connected by blood to the Queen. 
• "Cigarette?" The lord's voice travelled in the big study. 
• "No, thank you, Your Lordship. " 
• The cigarettes were most likely imported from the U.S, the kind only the rich could afford. He almost regretted not accepting one. 
• The lord smiled. "Sit down, young man. We both know why you are here."