Secrets in the Bathtub

Baron Oscar lay in the white porcelain bathtub, soft sunlight streaming through the glass window, turning the warm steam into a golden mist. His long brown curls were damp, clinging in strands to his broad back, with water flowing down his skin in rivulets.

I slowly poured hot water into the tub, causing the flower petals floating within to scatter, revealing the baron's nude form in glimpses.

"Don't pour any more; the water is too hot," the baron said, displeased.

"Yes, my lord," I quickly set down the bucket and softly asked, "Would you like me to help you wash your back?"

The baron raised an eyebrow, his expression ambiguous. We locked eyes for a moment before he looked away. "No need, no need."

I figured perhaps the water was too hot, as the baron's face had turned red.

I glanced at the clock on the table and reminded him, "My lord, the dinner starts at 6 o'clock. Shouldn't you get out of the bath now?"

He nodded, saying, "Alright, or I'll be late."

I unfurled a long towel and stood behind the bathtub. As the baron rose from the tub, I wrapped the towel around his body from behind. I wasn't sure if it was just my impression, but I felt his body stiffen for a moment.

He quickly grasped the ends of the towel and wrapped himself tightly, then said, "That's enough, you can go out now; I can manage on my own."

I was surprised; he neither needed my assistance with bathing nor dressing. In my previous life, he wasn't like this; he wanted me to take care of every personal matter. I had been honest with him more than once, and back then, I found it quite distasteful to frequently face a naked male body. But now, when I wanted to help, he wouldn't let me.

"Yes, my lord." I placed his clothes in front of him and said, "I'll take my leave now."

Today, the Bruce estate was bustling with activity; the arrival of the social season had everyone—ladies and gentlemen—excited. Despite the harsh winter outside, the enthusiasm for the ball was unstoppable.

The Viscountess personally directed the maids: "Move that there… the carpet needs to be replaced… not this fruit…"

Butler Aaron asked me, "Is the baron no longer in need of service?"

"Yes, is there anything you need me to help with?"

"Of course, we're all quite busy; go greet those musicians," the butler instructed.

Around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, all the guests arrived at Mormont Manor, the gentlemen riding fine steeds while the ladies sat in luxurious carriages. As a footman, I had been waiting in the freezing cold to welcome these dignitaries, leaving me cold and hungry, my mood quite poor.

Before I had a chance to eat anything to warm my stomach, I was called to the hall to serve dinner to the guests.

Lady Shirley, who had previously shown interest in me, lightly fanned herself and said, "It's you! You served so well last time; let's have you serve me again this time."

I stood beside her with a smile, eagerly presenting her with drinks and dishes, deliberately exchanging flirtatious glances.

Though she was a widow, she was quite wealthy; her son was the baron, and they owned a large estate in South Yorkshire. I wouldn't mind being her lover; this woman could help me achieve my goals.

"Oh!" Lady Shirley accidentally dropped her fan, glancing up at me as she did.

I looked at her, smiling slightly, knelt by her feet to pick up the fan, then leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "Madam, your fan."

She smiled as she took it, winking at me playfully, and I heard her softly murmur, "Thank you."

See, she was interested in me. Our interaction was limited to a glance and a smile, yet it felt like we shared a little secret. In my previous life, I looked down on such tactics, believing them beneath a man's dignity, and now I felt grateful to God for bestowing me with such good looks.

Though it was just a minor episode, everyone at the dining table noticed. Their expressions varied, but no one commented, as if they hadn't seen a thing. A wealthy widow wanting to take a footman as a lover wasn't such a scandalous idea; sometimes a footman's master might even encourage such behavior, as it could strengthen the ties between families.

However, at that moment, the Viscountess revealed a disdainful smile, unfurling her fan to whisper with her female companion, erupting into giggles. Lady Shirley seemed entirely unconcerned with others' gazes and remarks, boldly surveying my figure and displaying a satisfied smile.

After dinner, the guests gathered in the upstairs hall for the ball. Dozens of candles lit up the crystal chandelier, and the wall candles flickered softly, transforming the previously dark hall into a bright spectacle, as if it were day.

Some ladies went to change their outfits; as a noblewoman, one would typically change clothes at least four times a day for outings, afternoon tea, dinner, and balls. On busier days, it wasn't unusual to change into a dozen different outfits.

The gentlemen and ladies left in the ballroom were already dancing gracefully to the melodious music. It was a group dance, with men and women forming lines, each person paired with a corresponding partner.

I moved around the dance floor with a tray, carrying several glasses of red wine for guests not participating in the dancing.

Baron Oscar was conversing with a few gentlemen. Upon seeing me with the tray, he suddenly excused himself from the others and walked over to me.

He picked up a glass of red wine from my tray, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "You seem very busy tonight."

I wanted to respond that I had been busy since the afternoon and hadn't even had dinner, but instead, I humbly replied, "It's my honor to fulfill my duties, my lord."

"Hmph." He scoffed rudely and walked away with a displeased expression.

I couldn't understand what I had done to offend him; his mood was so difficult to read that I couldn't help but sigh.

The ball continued until midnight, and the guests finally grew tired. Under the guidance of the servants, they returned to their respective rooms, and the lively Mormont Manor fell silent.

I held a candle, leading the way in front of Baron Oscar. I noticed he remained quite displeased, his discomfort evident not only in his cold expression but also in the fact that he had only danced two group dances and hadn't joined in again. Ignoring Miss Katherine's subtle hints, he simply stood chatting with a few gentlemen in a corner.

The baron's bedroom had already been warmed by a fire, making it quite cozy.

Just as I was about to leave, he suddenly adjusted his bowtie: "Aren't you going to help me get ready for bed?"

I paused for a moment, hurriedly stepping forward to untie his bowtie and then unfasten the buttons of his coat. The light from the fire was dim, making it difficult to see the buttons, so I leaned closer to have a better look.

"Is this how you always are?" the baron's hoarse voice drifted to my ears. "Taking every chance to seduce the nobles around you?"

My hands froze, and I looked up at him; in the dim light, his brown eyes appeared pitch black, filled with my reflection.

"Do you think I'd fawn over a hunchback like me and those fat pig-like women?" His large hand suddenly grasped my collar and leaned closer to me.

I didn't know how to retort; it was true that I had intentionally flirted with Lady Shirley today, but to say I was seducing him seemed...

Seeing me silent, he angrily pushed me away, shouting, "Get out! Don't let me see you again! You filthy lowlife!"

I stumbled out of the baron's room, leaning against the wall and gasping for breath, closing my eyes tightly in the darkness.

Perhaps he liked me again; otherwise, why would he be so angry?

I should keep my distance from him, I thought...

"Did the baron say he didn't need your service anymore?" Butler Aaron asked me.

"Yes, I made some mistakes that upset the baron," I replied.

"Oh, that's nothing; after all, you haven't received training as a personal footman. It's understandable to offend the baron. I will inform the master. For now, avoid appearing where the baron is," he said.

"Yes, sir."

As I left the butler's office, I ran into Betty.

She was carrying a bucket of water and holding a dirty rag, her face flushed with nervousness at the sight of me; she hurried past like a frightened rabbit.

In my previous life, this girl had been hopelessly infatuated with me. She said she loved me and would do anything for me, while I was madly in love with Miss Katherine at the time.

To rise to a higher position as a senior footman or even a butler, I had exploited her many times, ultimately leading to her taking the blame for me and getting kicked out of the manor.

Perhaps I was born a scheming little villain.

What kind of person am I to deserve such sacrifices from them? How could they possibly fall in love with someone as despicable as me? Was it simply my appearance they were attracted to?