“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it? Just a few weeks out now?” Jude was pouring afternoon tea for herself and Nathan in the sitting room.

​

He eyed her from over the top of his book. “It is, yes. The 25th. Why do you ask?”

​

“Well,” she continued, adding sugar and cream to Nathan’s tea the way he liked. “Would you like me to send out invitations to any friends? Perhaps, some of your classmates from university?”

​

He pretended to return to his book. “No, thank you. February is a dreadful month for travel. And besides that, I’m not fond of birthdays.” He tried to sound light, but it was clear that Jude saw through him. She wasn’t going to leave the subject.

​

“Regardless of February, you haven’t had any visitors since you’ve arrived, you know. I’m sure it would be fine if you did. I’d be surprised if your parents expected you to live here without ever seeing your friends.”

 

“You’re my friend,” he said, still pretending to read.

​

She gave him a patient look. “You’re mine, too. But you’re still a young man, after all. Now’s the time to surround yourself with your mates and have parties, make memories. You’re turning twenty-six for pity’s sake.”

​

Nathan stayed silent. In truth, he longed desperately for companionship, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

​

Jude placed his tea on the side table next to his chair and took her seat across from him. She sipped on her tea quietly and decided not to press the matter any further.

​

He sighed. “Look, thank you. I do appreciate what you’re saying. But I’ve never attracted friendships easily, and I’ve always struggled to maintain the few I’ve made.”

​

Jude let some silence pass before she carefully spoke. “I remember even as a child you were always a bit... peculiar.” She took another sip of her tea and continued, treading lightly, “I’m not sure if it’s a gift or an affliction. I imagine it feels like both at times. And I also imagine it makes some people wary.”

​

“Are you wary?”

​

She seemed to think on this for a moment. “No. I don’t understand it completely, and sometimes it worries me that you don’t seem to understand it completely either, but I trust your intentions.”

​

He finally put his book down and properly looked at her. She smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back.

​

“Well,” she said in a decided manner. “Small affair or not, we will need to do something to make your birthday memorable.”

​

——

​

There’d been awful weather on the days leading up to his birthday, but still Jude and the rest of the staff were in good humor as they bustled around in preparation. Nathan had ultimately opted for a private celebration and kept the invite list exclusive to the house staff, ensuring it would be a modest event. Being the family’s summer home, the estate and staff were smaller compared to most.

​

Nathan was fond of all of them and had grown to view them as a kind of surrogate family over the past few months. His birthday was the perfect excuse to give them all the night off—a small gesture of gratitude. Unfortunately, it meant that they had to work diligently the day before the party to make up for the time they would spend celebrating. Of course, too, there was a lot that needed to be done by the kitchen staff on the day of, but Nathan had insisted that they keep the dishes simple. He also insisted that they take shifts amongst themselves so that they all had an opportunity to leave the kitchen and join the festivities.

​

“You run a rather unconventional ship, you know,” Jude teased him. “But we all appreciate it.”

​

“Well, I appreciate all of you. It’s the least I could do.”

 

——

​

Nathan woke up on the day of his birthday with a strange feeling in his right hand. It was buzzing as though there was a swarm of bees beneath his skin. He did his best to ignore it and readied himself for the day ahead.

​

He examined himself in the mirror at the washstand; it stood in the corner of his room near the window, and he could see himself clearly in the morning light. Being midwinter, his thin face seemed especially pale. He tousled his short, mousy brown hair, then dragged his hands down the sides of his face, stopping to scratch the stubble that grew in uneven patches along his jaw.

​

Since leaving London months ago, Nathan had to start dressing and shaving himself as he no longer had a valet. He supposed that he could have instructed the summer home’s footman to fill in but being dressed and groomed by someone else had always felt invasive to him. And now especially, he did not want anyone to see his shoulders and back... The scabs had healed since October, but unsightly marks still remained. He was ashamed to be seen as he was.

​

After shaving, as he splashed water on his face to remove the excess cream, he looked down into the washstand’s ornate porcelain basin and saw a change. The bowl was normally decorated with elaborate blue flowers and foliage, but instead of this, he now saw a scene of a kite flying amongst storm clouds, tethered to the earth by its string which was fastened securely around a large, sturdy boulder. He stared at it for a moment before scooping more water into his hands and giving his face a final rinse. After drying himself, he looked back into the basin and saw flowers there once again.

​

The day carried on more or less exactly how Nathan imagined it would. Everyone convened for a light, leisurely lunch and then retired to the drawing room. They played several rounds of Charades and Lookabout. After that, Emily, one of the maids, suggested Reverend Crawley's Game which turned out to be a riot. To begin the game, everyone stood together and held hands in a complicated pattern so that they became a giant knot of intertwining arms. Then, they had to work out how to untangle themselves without letting go of anyone’s hand. With everyone twisting and contorting in absurd and awkward ways, there was a nonstop string of giggles ringing through the air. Jude had an unmistakable and contagious laugh that carried over the group and infected the others.

​

By the time everyone had gotten untangled, Nathan was flushed and lightheaded with laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so giddy.

​

Next, William, the footman, suggested a song. Someone asked Nathan if he would play for them on his violin. He lied and said that his bow needed to be rehaired but agreed to play for them on the piano. He wasn’t as competent a pianist as a violinist, and perhaps even less so now with the tingling sensation in his hand, but he could play well enough for the simpler singalongs being requested.

​

Then, it was time for dinner. Per Nathan’s request, the food was simple, but it was no less delicious. There were lively discussions and stories all around the table as everyone had their fill of food and sherry.

​

Jude leaned over to Nathan. “This was a splendid idea. The house needed this, a bit of joy. Winter can be hard on morale, you know.”

​

He grinned. All throughout the afternoon, he’d felt electricity crackling in the air from everyone’s bright spirits. “You’re right, this was a splendid idea. Thank you for insisting that I celebrate my birthday.”

​

She laughed and took another sip of sherry. On Nathan’s other side, old Mr. Millican, the estate manager, stood from the table and excused himself.

​

“Master Nathan, forgive me, but I must attend to a few matters.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow, Mr. Millican? You’d be sorely missed here.”

 

Jude chimed in suddenly. “Master Nathan, I beg your pardon, but that’s my mistake. I meant to inform you earlier, but I’m afraid I forgot. We have a new groundskeeper coming to the estate to help with the coming spring.”

​

“It’s looking like we’ll be having an early one this year, sir,” Mr. Millican added.

​

“He was supposed to arrive several days ago,” Jude continued. “But the poor weather made the roads impassable by carriage. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner, sir. I know this isn’t an ideal time.”

​

“Mrs. Fairchild, please, there is no need to apologize. I couldn’t think of a better time for him to join us. When will he be arriving, Mr. Millican?”

​

“It should be within the hour, sir.”

“Well, once he’s had a chance to put away his things, please tell our new groundskeeper that he’s welcome to join our party if he would like.”

After dinner in the drawing room, someone suggested they play Blindman’s Buff. Mrs. Blake, the cook, went first. They placed a blindfold over her eyes, spun her around in circles a few times, and then scattered as she tried to grab someone. She managed to catch Jude, and her laugh gave her away immediately.

Then, it was Jude’s turn to stumble around wearing the blindfold. She’d touched one of the kitchen staff first, but she guessed wrong and had to try again. Next, she managed to catch Emily and guessed right.

​

The game continued until it was finally Nathan’s turn. He was especially good at games like this. People didn’t realize how much their footsteps and rustling clothes said about them. In fact, as a child, he was so good at this game that he was often accused of cheating. For this reason, Nathan purposefully guessed wrong when he caught William first.

​

He resumed moving around in the dark with his arms cautiously outstretched, giggles and whispers coming from all directions. Every now and then someone far away from him would call out “Over here, blind man!”

​

With a broad, searching swipe of his arm, the buzzing in his right hand surged momentarily as if it had reacted to something near him. Impulsively, Nathan waved his hand over the same area, found the spot where the sensation surged again, and pressed forward, following it.

​

In a short distance, the feeling in his hand had spread down his arm and became almost unbearable. It had grown rapidly from a slight tingling to a searing, unstoppable humming that was so overwhelming it made Nathan’s ears ring. Then, just as the noise grew so loud that he could hear nothing else, it stopped in an instant as his hand came into contact with something solid.

​

The sensation in his hand had gone, too, as if it had never existed in the first place. Everything was now quiet and still.

​

As if afraid the thing he touched would disappear, Nathan scrambled to pull the blindfold off his face. He saw before him what his hand had drawn him to—a man, just shorter than Nathan, who looked to be about his age. The man had a sturdy build, square jaw, and short waves of black hair with full brows and lashes to match. The contrast of his pale skin and dark hair created an understated drama about him that was punctuated by humble, blue eyes.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring, but it seemed like no time had passed for those around him because all at once Nathan heard their outcries:

​

“Oi! You can’t take off your blindfold!”

 

“That’s cheating, that is!”

“No peeking, you know!”

​

Nathan was quick to compose himself. “I know, I know. You’re right, it is cheating,” he said good-naturedly. “But, in all fairness, how on earth was I supposed to guess who this was?”

 

They all laughed, including the stranger standing in the doorway who Nathan had just touched.

​

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man began. He glanced around the room with a sheepish grin, his ears and cheeks had gone a slight shade of red from everyone’s attention. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your game. I was told there was a celebration going on.”

​

Mr. Millican stepped from around him and dutifully announced, “Mr. Watts, may I introduce you to the Honorable Nathaniel Hambleton. Master Nathan, this is our new groundskeeper, Mr. Peter Watts.”

​

Nathan extended a hand. It didn’t react this time when it got nearer to him. Peter took it and smiled.

​

“It’s wonderful to meet you, sir.”

 

“The same to you, Mr. Watts.”