A/N: PLEASE READ! In this fic, things written in italics are flashbacks. Please remember that, so it won't confuse you in the future. :3 I sure hope that you'll figure out who Mr. Daniel Moore is, in case if you do not, it is Mr. Charles Xavier. But why is he using a different person's name, you ask? Well, that basically is the whole plot, so I can't tell you- yet! xD

Chapter 1

"Mr. Lehnsherr? Mr. Lehnsherr! Were you even listening?" her inquiry, full of irritation and frustration brought him back to reality, "Is there something on his face?"

Giving her a quick glance, Mr. Lehnsherr was not even sure what the lady asked, or what nonsense she was talking about earlier.

"The man clad in black, near the window. Is there something on his face?" Each and every word she uttered, revealed the impatience that was slowly, yet so surely building up. She was not accustomed to being ignored.

"Pardon?"

"You have been ogling him the whole evening. The very least you could do is to act as if you are listening to me."

"Lady Ingram," he began, voice calm and smooth, "I can assure you, I did not miss a single word that escaped your beautiful lips, please continue, I'm all yours.'

~ ... ~

For the rest of the evening, he was listening to Lady Ingram's chirping; doing an outstanding job of not giving in to complete boredom and not allowing his façade to crack and crumble. As gorgeous as she may seem, Lady Blanche Ingram was like a rotten apple- seemingly delicious by appearance, but the moment you sink your teeth in, it is all rot, black and utterly unappetizing. She was selfish, narcissistic beyond belief, and so narrow-minded that it was plain ridiculous. Although, he may be the only one in this room to think so.

As the clock leisurely dragged its hand over to ten minutes past nine, Mr. Lehnsherr could have sworn with his own life, that this chirping bird would never stop. The things she talked about made no sense, but the surrounding crowd just swallowed everything she had fed them.

One glass of wine followed another and Mr. Lehnsherr found himself doing the same thing he was up to most of the evening – the man clad in black did not leave his sight even for a short moment.

The man was young, probably a decade younger than Mr. Lehnsherr himself, yet somehow mature; charming to the extent that even a man would find him attractive, with a slender figure, that was more suitable for a woman, yet manly enough to convince others of his masculinity. He indeed, was a much more interesting subject to concentrate your attention on.

For a split second, their eyes met and there was something about the black-clad man that Mr. Lehnsherr found baffling; it was if something in those azure eyes and that smile were daring him not to break the contact.

~ ... ~

"And what do you expect of me?" Mr. Lehnsherr was gloomly, like a massive boulder that came to life. He did not bother to shake the hand of a man standing in front of him.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, please-" Mrs. Fairfax began, but was interrupted by a young man in black.

"Mrs. Fairfax, please do not fret," the man smiled ever so kindly at her and turned the doorknob, pausing for a moment in the door frame, "You were of much help, thank you. Mr. Lehnsherr…" He gave the owner of Thornfield Hall a slight bow, and closed a massive door behind him; regardless that he was soaking to the bone from the horrid rain outside.

Mrs. Fairfax just turned on her heel to look at her lord, her grey from age eyebrows knitted together in a frown and her gaze heavy with accusation and bitterness. She did not drop a single word, for she believed that Mr. Lehnsherr was well aware of the thoughts running though her head.

The agonizing minutes spent in complete silence were like hours and it did not take Mrs. Fairfax long to make Mr. Lehnsherr change his mind.

"Bring that man back in here."

~ ... ~

"Mr. Moore, if my memory serves me right?" Mr. Lehnsherr was now standing near the young man, glass of wine in hand and not so sober eyes looking at him, boring into that pretty skull. "If you would excuse us, gentlemen," he stated, gesturing to the other men, his guests from far and near, to leave them for a while. Lazily, but obediently nevertheless, they left.

"Sir," the young man gave Mr. Lehnsherr a slight nod, lips curling into a smile, his features perfectly calm. "Is there something the matter? You seem to be bothered about something."

"What may have led you to this conclusion?" Whenever he was in a close proximity to this man, there was this quickly vanishing feeling of something tickling his brain, like a gentle feathery touch, it was an unexpected and somehow pleasant sensation; something he had never experienced before. Interesting, even odd to a certain extent, this man - Daniel Moore - simple as he may seem, was something peculiar.

"Simple logic, Mr. Lehnsherr, seeing that you have left the charming Lady Blanche," he pointed his glass of wine slightly in Lady Ingram's direction, to make a point. "There should be a vital state of affairs demanding your presence, is it not so, sir?"

The tickling sensation was back and Mr. Lehnsherr was now absolutely sure, that Mr. Moore was the one responsible for this. "If you do not mind, my friend," he took the glass away from the young gentleman, relishing that bewildered look as those slender fingers let go, "I would like to talk with you for a moment. A walk in a garden if you don't mind?"

The moment he finished that sentence and was about to leave this ball, a familiar chirping sound reached his ears, "Mr. Lehnsherr, come sing with me, darling!"

~ ... ~

"Jane," he finally broke the silence in the study after many hours of complete stillness, "I consider you a friend."

The young woman, as if dragged back to reality from her thoughts, raised her eyes to meet Mr. Lehnsherr's, only to find that his gaze was locked on the fiery tongues dancing wildly in the hearth. The fire, being the only source of light in the room, did a remarkable job of concealing Mr. Lehnsherr's features. Jane could not tell, by the best of her, what thoughts and worries were gracing her lord's face.

Not expecting her to answer, he went on, "And as a friend, I would like to hear your honest opinion regarding one peculiar subject…" he trailed off, leaving Jane in anxiety of what to come. She was not the one to elicit the answers; for she respected Mr. Lehnsherr not only as her employer, but also as a person.

The silence hung in the air again, by what it seemed, Mr. Lehnsherr had forgotten what he was about to say and Jane had no other alternative but to inquire further, for her curiosity was getting the best of her. She was only human, after all.

"The subject of the matter that had been bothering me for quite some time is Mr. Moore," he said. Without giving her an opportunity to utter a single word, he continued, "What can you tell me about him, as a friend to a friend?"

"With all due respect, sir, but may I ask what made you believe that I happen to know Mr. Moore better than you, or for that matter, better than anyone in Thornfield Hall?" She shifted in her seat, now fully facing the collocutor.

"My dear Jane," he said, his voice a quiet and seemingly calm tune, but it was more like an interrogation, "I know that you know something about him that none of us do. After all, ever since he got here, you have been spending quite a lot of time together." An undertone of irritation was seeping through, making Jane feel utterly uncomfortable.

"Your walks in the garden, your constant gibberish about books and other nonsense," he was about to go on, but as the clock struck midnight, he stopped, his mouth ceasing its movement.

Jane grasped the opportunity to escape any further questioning and took her leave, giving Mr. Lehnsherr a bow before disappearing from the study.

~ ... ~

"Ah! There you are, Ms. Eyre!"

Jane turned around; the voice calling out to her was familiar to her ears. The intense sunlight was obstructing her sight; she could barely make out the silhouette that was approaching her. It did not take long enough though, as the silhouette morphed into a figure of a man, her new acquaintance, Mr. Moore. He was dazzling; Jane did not fail to notice, although she was not the kind of girl to have illusions about handsome men falling in love with her. She knew where they stood and where did she.

Mr. Moore's waistcoat of chocolate brown caught her attention, with a snow-white shirt; they were accentuating his slender figure to the extent of a bewitching sight, and a neatly tied scarf was an elegant and lovely touch.

"Mr. Moore, sir, did something happen?" Jane said, the concern in her voice giving her away.

Her companion only blinked a couple of times and when the realization of him calling on her out of the blue may actually seem as if something happened kicked in, he just shook his head and smiled, "Miss Eyre, please, be at ease. Nothing happened; I just came to talk to you."

"With me, sir?" she looked at Mr. Moore's face, searching for any signs of deceit, but found none.

"Yes, if you would." He gestured to the shade under the chestnut tree. "Ladies first."

The shadow of that gorgeous tree was like heaven, saving the poor souls that hid under it and keeping the humid heat of the summer at bay. It was only June, but the heat was excruciating, and whether out in the garden or in the manor, it was about the same.

"With days like this, you sure miss the cold winter evenings," Mr. Moore stated, quickly wiping his brow with a handkerchief that somehow struck Jane as odd. She could not put her finger on it, but there was something off about that small piece of white cloth.

"Mr. Moore, I do not wish to sound disrespectful, but I believe that there was something you wanted to talk with me about," she said, her eyes fixated not on his face, but on the handkerchief in his hand.

A bit surprised by her bluntness, the man let out a sound, similar to a chuckle. "You are extraordinary, Miss Eyre. Such frankness." He moved a bit closer to Jane, earning her stern gaze in reply, as she shifted her position further away from the intruder of her personal space. He retreated to his former position as well, trying to conceal a smile, but failing miserably at doing so.

"I do not see anything amusing about the way you act, sir." Jane was irritated, but she did not let it show. Keeping her face, which was what was required of young ladies of her age in situations like this.

"Miss Eyre, please, I mean no disrespect," he admitted, "I know how it may have looked that way from your point of view, but I can assure you, that is not the case. It is just that I need to keep it as a secret- the thing I wish to ask you about."

At those words, Jane tensed up even more; she was not in support of any secrets or heaven forbid, rumors being shared. She quietly waited for Mr. Moore to continue and so he did, "Miss Eyre, did you happen to notice… something odd going on in Thornfield Hall? Something bizarre, even?"

"What are you trying to say, sir?" By the time he had finished the previous sentence, Jane was more than aware of what exactly Mr. Moore was inquiring about. "Thornfield Hall is the safest and the quietest place to be, sir, I can assure you," she lied and could not believe that she did.

"Strange noises, sounds of footsteps in the middle of the night… no?" Mr. Moore persisted.

"No, sir. Nothing of that sort."

"So, you think I am imagining things?"

"Perhaps you are, sir."

Their conversation was interrupted by Adele's jubilant cry as she rushed to the gates, and the sound of a coach quickly approaching. Jane was about to excuse herself, for she knew she should greet Mr. Lehnsherr, when Mr. Moore offered her a hand; their eyes met for a short moment and they both knew that their tête-à-tête was over.