Timeless Masters | boyxboy | (Book Two: The Master Collection)

Chapter II - Ten Years of Nothing

Southampton, England

May 1844

It wasn't a proper morning for Oliver unless he was awoken by persistent nudging. He'd never been a morning person, or rather a person who liked waking up before noon since his teen years kicked in. He'd much rather allow his body to do the waking up, but no, that was never the case. Ethyl, a woman who wasn't necessarily his nanny anymore, shook the eighteen-year-old out of sleep.

Sluggish as he was, Oliver lugged himself upright, sitting with heavy eyes and his legs were tangled in the blankets. His blonde hair had grown out from the childish bowl it used to be. Now it sat just brushing the top of his shoulders. Oliver's features had matured, turning him into a rather handsome young man. Countless young ladies he'd met over the past couple of years always pointed out his looks, always seeming a bit desperate sometimes for his attention.

But Oliver wasn't after any woman.

Still, even after so long, he kept his heart set on one person. It was only a matter of time, he thought each day that went by, until Quincy van Zant returned. He had faith. Over the years, numerous people had complimented his looks, telling him time and time again about how he'd make a woman happy by making whoever she'd be his wife someday, and every time he heard such ridiculous claims, he reminded himself that he was already promised to another.

"Up, up, up," Ethyl urged him, "We've got to get you made up for the special guests today."

Oliver stretched his skinny arms above his head, and was abruptly hit in the face with a blouse Ethyl had thrown his way. What was so special about the guests today that he had to jump straight out of bed? He didn't recall his mother or father planning anything about someone coming over. They'd have informed him the day before.

First things first, before Oliver dressed, he had to bathe.

After a pair of other servants to the manor had hot water carried to fill his white tub, Oliver slid in, resting back and closed his eyes. He daydreamed for a while before actually getting any washing done.

Once he was back in the bedroom part of his chamber, he dried himself off and looked over the clothing Ethyl put out for him. She was gone now, tending to whatever duties were on her list for the morning. Oliver slipped on the indigo blouse, buttoning it all the way up to his collar. After adjusting the cuffs to his liking, he then tugged on his black trousers, buckled his high socks, shoes, and threw on a dark gray vest. With his hair just a tad bit damp, he brushed his blonde locks into a low ponytail.

When he figured he looked presentable for the "special guests", he then opened the drawer of his nightstand. From inside, he withdrew a necklace, one he'd kept for ten long, agonizing years. It was still as beautiful as the day it'd been given to him; the silver ring with a light brown diamond encrusted into it. Oliver smiled at it, and looped the chain around his neck, tucking it away so no one would see it.

A second later, Ethyl burst into his room again, waving at him in haste, "Come now, Oliver. Your mother and father want you downstairs now."

"I was just leaving," he groaned.

He followed suit as Ethyl led the way down the long lit hall, doors leading into rooms he and his family hardly ever used like studies and guest bedrooms. All these extra rooms for a family of three just seemed like extra storage.

"Wait here," Ethyl said when they reached the bottom of the main stairs, "Your mother and—."

"Oliver," it was his father.

The young nobleman turned in the direction his father's voice had come from. He was making his way from the parlor room with his wife at his side. Oliver's parents were undoubtedly a stunning pair. Both now in their mid-forties, Mr. Dollins was quite a strapping man with short cut blonde hair, his eyes having gone from a sky blue to an almost stormy gray. Mrs. Dollins was what people called a stunning portrait. Her golden tresses shone like silk in the light, her dolled face pretty as ever, and every expensive gown she wore complimented her beauty.