I own nothing, and I shall never claim to. I only occasionally borrow these characters and use them as my playthings.

oOoOoOoOo

The house was quiet. The only movement within the lavish halls was the occasional scuffling of a servant, dusting a shelf or tidying a bedroom and the like. Such a large house required quite a bit of maintenance, after all.

One young maid was in the front hall, arranging coral-colored roses in a vase when the front door suddenly flew open, giving her the fright of her life. She very well nearly knocked the vase from the small mahogany table it was perched on, but managed to catch it in time. Hurriedly smoothing her apron with her palms, she peered around the bouquet to see just who it was that so showily entered the mansion.

She was met with quite a shock. She'd expected one of her employer's usual visitors, but she'd never seen this man before. He was tall and cloaked in darkness, and held himself with such an air of haughtiness he could make the vainest of noble women seem like generous, sweet young ladies. His eyes scanned the empty hall, before falling on the bewildered servant girl and capturing her in their shining depths.

"Excuse me, sir," she finally recovered her voice and offered a curtsey, "May I ask wh"– she was abruptly silenced when a coat, a hat, and a cane were placed heavily into her arms. The stranger strolled casually into the next room, leaving her gaping after him, his things held out awkwardly in front of her. He was behaving like he owned the place.

"Sir!" the maid called after the man, trotting along behind him after she'd placed his effects on a chair near the door. She suspected that he would soon be thrown out of the estate, otherwise she would have put the articles away. She found him in the sitting room, pacing about and examining small details in the decor. Now that his face was properly revealed, he did seem a bit familiar, but the young servant still could not recall having ever encountered this man before. "May I ask what brings you here this evening?" she finally managed to ask, keeping a wary eye on the visitor lest he try and steal something.

He did not offer up an answer. There was a nostalgic mist over his eyes as he overlooked each piece of furniture, each wall hanging, the patterns in the fabrics. He trailed thin, delicate fingers gingerly over the back of an armchair, before sitting down quite regally in it.

"Is the lady of the house in?" he finally spoke, looking up and addressing the startled maid directly. She examined him head-to-toe, and still could not place where she may have seen him before. Despite her concerns about his intentions, she decided to indulge him.

"She's strolling in the garden with her husband," she answered politely, plastering a false smile on her lips, "Is she expecting you?"

The guest was silent for a long time, seeming to ponder something deeply. A sort of amused surprise could be detected in the way his eyes glittered, and the smallest hint of a smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. "Not exactly," he replied softly, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap, "But who knows, perhaps she foresaw my visit..." he trailed off with a laugh, and the servant girl felt as though he knew something that she did not.

"Shall I go and fetch her?" she offered after a long silence. But the dark stranger shook his head.

"No need," he spoke with a gentle, yet commanding air, "I'll just wait for her here."

She could sense that this man wanted to be left alone. Oh well, she could tell the other servants to keep an eye out and make sure he wasn't up to no good. She began to move towards the door, but paused to ask one, final question.

"What exactly is your business with the Countess of Hargreaves?" she asked curiously.

That seemed to amuse him greatly. He chuckled lightly, and followed with a pensive sigh.

"I just thought I'd ask if I could join her for tea. Perhaps in the garden."

oOoOoOoOo

She'd just been returning from an evening stroll in the garden, much like the ones she'd been taking for years now. Her husband, due for business elsewhere, had left her hastily with a kiss on the cheek. She came in the back door, offering a smile and a thank you to the boy who'd taken her hand and held the door for her. She was just contemplating retiring to the library for a while when her thoughts were rudely interrupted.

"Miss!"

She turned, sapphire eyes scanning for the source of the voice. A timid, mousy young girl stepped forward with a curtsey, looking rather flustered. The noble lady's painted lips stretched into a polite smile.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked patiently, removing her bonnet and shaking out her golden locks.

"You have a visitor."

Surprise wiped her expression blank for a moment. She thought back to see if she could recall inviting anyone for an engagement this evening. She couldn't think of anyone who was scheduled to visit, making her greatly puzzled. She cleared her throat before posing any further questions.

"Oh?" she inquired casually, sweeping her hands over her bustling skirts to wipe the wrinkles away. "Did he say what business he had here?"

"Well," the maid started to wring her hands worriedly, chewing on her lower lip, "He was rather cryptic. He said... he said he just wanted to join you for tea in the garden."

The blonde woman's jaw dropped as the answer hung in the air. Could it really be? After all this time? No, of course not. She quickly composed herself, her expression suddenly very stern.

"I would like to see him at once."

She was led to the sitting room, where she was told her visitor would be waiting. She stood silently in the doorframe for a long moment, just staring at the man who seemed so eerily comfortable in her home.

He was standing near the mantle, closely examining the lavish painting that hung above it. His back was to her, but there was no doubt in her mind who she was looking at. His dark hair was slightly longer than she remembered, but that was to be expected after such a long absence. She could see it in his slender form, his pale fingers gently tapping against the mantle, the way he held himself; this was definitely him. There could be no other. The smile that spread across her face was the happiest and most genuine she'd been able to muster since she was ten years old. She stepped into the room, finally making her presence known with the dainty tap of her footsteps and the slight rustle of her skirts.

"Would you mind explaining to me," she spoke clearly, barely able to contain her joy enough to sound cross, "Why it is you're so late for tea?" Tears of joy sprung into her eyes as she affectionately added, "Older brother."

He turned to face her, and golden-green eyes met ocean-blue. He returned the smile gracefully, and strode across the room towards her. He'd changed little from when she'd last seen him, and now it was almost as though he'd never even left. He stooped low, cradling her hand between both of his own. Tenderly, he brushed his lips against the backs of her fingers. He turned up to face her properly again, his unique eyes glittering with the threat of oncoming tears.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mary Weather."