AN: I found this buried in the old system and thought twice about sharing it. If I could fix my other one shots from the dark ages, believe me, I'd do it. For this one, I did look it over and made the slight adjustments. It used to have a really lame ending and an even lamer title, so don't laugh at my ending and don't laugh at my title. If you don't enjoy the story, then that's something you can voice if you have a good reason to back it up. Just do it nicely without rudely or crudely defaming (aka swearing at or flaming) me. You know how that makes anybody feel.

Standard Disclaimer: Sailor Moon will never be mine to rightfully claim as I take the characters and their persona from their original context for borrowing ONLY. Why would I ever steal from someone else unless it rightfully belonged to me to begin with and I was just trying to steal it back?

On Impulse

By MistyWing

Lord Endymion's Point of View

When my mother's personal manservant appeared at my door, I feared the worst. I had begged her to move with me to Darien when my granduncle had passed away three years ago and left his lands and estate in my name, but she refused. I knew I would rue the day I let her convince me that the memory of my beloved father was what kept her in our summer house of LeBrass. It didn't matter to me that their love did not die with his death. What truly bothered me was the fact that she would stay behind in her old age for the sake of his memory.

I still found her reason for staying absurd. At the sight of a member of her staff, I immediately made strict orders to my men for my coach to be ready. The manservant didn't need to tell me my mother fell because I knew when I read into the meek look he cast at me. Her manservant was always afraid to tell me things and I was frankly impatient with the silent type who needed a keen man like I to read him. Darien and LeBrass were many hours apart, I thought, as I glanced at my gold pocket watch. Yet, the issues of dry soil in the eastern yards were going to have to wait for its overseer because my dear mother needed me now.

I drifted on and off during the course of the long ride. Usually the coach I owned offered me comforts even my own bed did not. However, as the day moved into the late afternoon hours, my mother's condition and the pile of work on my desk kept me wide awake. I tapped the window for the coachman to stop in front of the inn we were about to pass. I had to admit, the long hours had made me famished.

Stepping out of my coach with my mother's manservant and my footman a pace behind, I made my way up the gravel road to the front of the inn. Someone was on the top of his ladder leaning up the establishment, fixing the roof or sorts, but I paid him little attention. The beating of hammer to nail was undeniably deafening, but I assumed the handy-man was what he was as I continued a leisurely walk up the pathway. A boy about twelve ran by me, pausing only to tap the brim of his hat and call me 'Lord.' I paused, too, right in front of the establishment and somewhat behind the ladder, in order to hail the boy who was to tend my coach to the station behind the inn.

I was briefly startled as I was candidly reaching into my coat pocket for a copper when one of the men shouted, "Look out!"

It was like being hit by a five ton boulder. I had the wind knocked out of me. For a moment, I saw red, black, and… Gold? Oddly, the thing that felt like a boulder on top of me was a moving, breathing human being. At first, I thought she was just another person until I realized that the gold was her hair and the blue was not the sky, but her eyes.

"Sir, forgive me!" She scrambled to her knees and sat to the side as she gazed at me worriedly. "I pray that nothing is broken!"

She was leaning near me as she looked on, her long hair tickling the sides of my face. I thought I was in heaven because only angels looked ethereal. She was also very earthy because as one of the men helped me sit up, I noticed her in a white dress with brown smudge stains all over it.

She covered her hands over her mouth as I got on my feet with the help of my men. Surely, she didn't just fall out of the sky! I truly hoped I didn't break anything either. I also truly hoped my favorite overcoat was not ruined. Yet, it was; the back of it smeared with dirt marks and grass stains.

She turned from the party and called out to the twelve-year-old whom I was stopping for earlier. "Sammy! See to it that-"

"Already on it, Sis!"

I followed her attention to the boy, who was taming my horses to the stable station. She turned to me again. "I am the innkeeper's daughter, Ser-"

"What was that clack?!" A male leaning on his cane thundered as he slammed the front door open with his free fist.

"The 'tacks' are half in the new sign, Father."

"I mean the noisy 'clack' sound, child!" He cried, hobbling down the steps to meet them however his attention was only on the maid.

"The ladder fell."

"With who on it?!"

"Why do you assume anyone was on it?"

"You said 'the tacks are half in!' They can't be 'half in' if no one hadn't climbed up by the ladder, child."

She wrung her hands and didn't say much else. I stepped in congenially, "This lady here was tacking up a new sign, a task not appropriate for any such lady. As she was doing so, she fell and landed right on top of me."

The man paused and glanced at me, which aggravated me some since no one ever overlooked me. That quick glance at me told him all. The second time he paid attention to me was much more thorough. He actually looked at me with big, round chestnut eyes. "Lord Darien!"

"Lord Darien?" She repeated softly, looking pale and faint.

The innkeeper on his crutch smiled shakily at me even as I was giving him my steely look. "Please, right this way, so we can make you comfortable. It has been a long time since you decided to come see our Lady LeBrass."

"I won't stay long. Only for some lunch."

"You mean supper. It is quite late for lunch."

The innkeeper turned to his daughter, "Serenity, silence. You've done enough damage."

The innkeeper and his daughter, Serenity, took my party into the private den and served us refreshments. Serenity was the only one moving to and fro the kitchen and the den with biscuits and drinks. When she didn't return for some time I got up from my seat, pealing off my gloves and shrugging off my coat. I pulled open the kitchen door and stood inside to catch a very interesting conversation between father and daughter.

"That was the Lord Darien?! Oh no, Father! I almost killed him!"

"What exactly happened, child?"

"He became my cushion, that's what! Oh, Father, I can't go to prison! I'll be tried for attempted murder."

"Child, if he's fair, it'll only be an assault charge."

"I'm not fit for a cage."

I cleared my throat and got their attention. "My men and I are hungry. When will we be served?"

Serenity jumped at the sound of my voice. Her father flinched and dropped his cane.

Serenity was the one who spoke to me, "Right away, my lord. The oven needs to preheat. As soon as it's hot enough we can cook."

I looked at her for a long time. "Do away with these, then. They are ruined!" I tossed the coat and gloves to the bench.

"They look expensive," she squeaked, picking up my overcoat and gloves. "How about I give them a wash?"

"Fine," I said without looking at her and walking out of the kitchen to resume my place in the den.

Her captivating eyes were on my mind when my mother' postman arrived with a letter. My mother demanded that I take a rest at wherever I had picked to stay and arrive tomorrow afternoon at the manor I used to call home. This meant staying at the inn with…

My train of thought snapped as a startled cry broke from the kitchen. I stood from my chair just as Serenity came storming out of the other room, the tips of her hair on fire. I rushed to her aid at the same time the innkeeper came out of another side door with a bucket.

"Serenity, you must hold still!" He screamed, dunking the water over her and at the same time spraying me as I had opted to help the poor thing, who caught fire. Smoke billowed out from the edges of the door frame to the kitchen and I watched the father hobbling back to cap the disaster and Serenity hurried to the front of the building again.

"I'll go ask Molly for that favor, now," she called to no one in particular as she left me somewhat dripping and watching her walk out with grey steam coming off of her frayed hair. My men were helping me dry off when she went away for a few minutes. She returned to quiz us or me in general, yet her eyes were directed to the whole room, "How did you get so sopping wet?"

For the rest of the day, I watched her work. I knew she was aware of my attention because her movements as she set the table were jerky. When she finished she hurried into the kitchen to most likely assess the destruction she had caused earlier. My eyes followed her as she disappeared behind the door.

Let me describe what I saw when I watched her hurrying about the place. I saw a maid misplaced. I saw someone, who thought she was capable enough to fill the shoes of her innkeeper father when what she really needed was to sit and take care of her well being first. It was admirable to see the effort and the heart in every task she took to hand, but the work didn't fit her, the way I imagined jewels and pearls would be fitting. There was an impulse to put her in the right place.

She jumped to her toes and straightened her spine when I called on her. My last command to her that night was to slow down and take me to my room.

Sammy ended up taking me to my room. I slept like the dead for the first time in my life. I was up at dawn, pulling on my boots. After grooming myself, I waited on my lofty bed for the sun to complete its rising. Serenity came into my room near noon.

"Your coat is cleaned, my lord."

"Leave it over here."

I watched her move warily into the room with her basket of laundry. She set it down beside the dresser and made note that she was leaving me alone again. I pulled the sheet away from the basket and pulled out a pair of female bloomers. Baffled, I reached in to find something else, I've never seen in my life before.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Darien!" Came her startling shout. She was standing in my doorway again, breathing heavily. She held my gloves and my clean coat in her nervous hands in the way that a servant might present a contribution to her master. She was completely scarlet with shame at her mistake.

"I was wondering when you would slip up this day… I wonder no more," I said, watching the red spread lovingly over her cheeks. "These must be yours and not mine."

She looked as faint as she did when she learned my name yesterday. I helped her to my bed to sit, even though she was reluctant.

"I-I'm so sorry," she said again.

"Enough," I cut her off. I left her alone because, in the end, she insisted she would help me pack.

That was the last I would see her that day. I had a suspicion that Serenity was avoiding me. Her younger brother, Sammy, watered my horses and brought me my coach. Then, with a final glance over my shoulder at the inn, I made my way to the old summer house.

Serenity came with me when I returned home. At least, the idea of her followed me to that certain point. I had to wait for my mother upon my arrival because she was out for a visit with some neighbors. As I waited, I fell asleep in one of the two armchairs placed in front of the fire.

Some time later, I awoke to the feel of my mother brushing her fingers across my forehead. "You must be drained from that ride, Endymion. You rest, now."

She settled in the chair next to mine and watched me blink a couple of times.

"Mother," I called after a moment of silence.

She looked up at me through her jeweled eyes. "Yes, son?"

"It was nothing really major, right?"

"Leg fell asleep and I missed a step; I slipped, but I didn't fall. I succeeded in taking you away from that dungeon-work-and I think that's major enough."

I reached over and stroked her hand. "Darien isn't as bad as the last time you've been there. I've made it becoming and warm just like you wished of me the last time you came to visit. You should come to Darien, so I can take care of you."

Her eyes became stern as she looked at me. "I'm getting on in my years, but nothing will take me from where my heart is."

"Father wouldn't want you to be by yourself, unattended."

"I am well attended. You saw to that when you left." She pressed a wrinkle in her robe with the same hand that touched my head. "Your father would be happy that I am independent."

"I'm not happy."

"That's because you don't care about anything, but work. I'm sure you ignore invites from the pretty ladies in Darien because of business. They try to get your attention, but you shut them out."

"That has nothing to do with us and the state…"

Mother interrupted me sharply. "It has everything to do with us. She, who ever she might be, is to be your wife and my new daughter, so it has a lot to do with me."

I knew where she was going and I linked myself to her moving caravan of thoughts. "Mother," I murmured as I contemplated, "How do I know if she's the one for me?"

My mother grinned. "You will just know."

"It's just that simple."

"Nothing's simple," she said fondly, "You have to put yourself out there, so people may have a chance to consider you as the man that you are. You don't go to many functions, so your absence allows others to draw a poor biased perception of you. They must think you're this churlish lord, who threatens their lives if they disobey."

"Mother, you're supposed to be the loving kind. Don't speak about me so."

"Loving kind?! That's something you might find in your lady love—Endymion you're blushing."

I felt hot and pulled loose a button on my collar to release some steam. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are. Could it be because of your lady love?" She was leaning closer to me, her voice willowy with anticipation.

I shook my head, the reminiscence of crystal blue eyes, fair tresses, and gentle blush on skin the color of cream occupied my thinking. "The innkeeper's daughter, Serenity, is old enough to be someone's wife." I sighed, relieved that she was not some other man's wife. Just this idea gave me the strength to ask her, "but why is she still unmarried?"

My mother drew back, her eyes looking to a distance beyond physical space. "Ah… That alluring child was the beauty of the season three years ago. That season was a remarkable one because those girls were all very lovely."

I laughed. "Let me guess, she was the belle of the season."

"Yes." She answered, seemingly surprised at what I knew from chance look.

"She is also calamity. I'm afraid it's worse than what I've seen from you. What happened three years ago?"

"She absolutely failed to make a good impression on her suitors. She set the place on fire by knocking down a candle and nearly trampled Lord Harold to death in a waltz. That was it and no one wanted her anymore."

I stood for the reputation of the innkeeper's daughter to my and my mother's surprise. "All she needs is a place that is fit and safe for her. Surely, the men can see that it's her situation that puts herself and others around her in imminent peril."

"You're one of the few people who empathize the poor child no man wants."

"There's no truth in that, Mother. I feel I want her," I said before I could stop myself. It was too late to clamp my mouth shut.

My mother straightened. "Repeat that, Endymion."

I frowned at her in annoyance. "Ever since I met her, she's been as distracting as a festering sore. I felt at peace and humored in her presence."

"You should return to her, then! See what more wonders she may offer this new side of you."

"I shall, in the morning, see what more havoc she can wreak upon her self and mine."

"Don't be so crude, Endymion. I'm sure the first meeting couldn't be as bad as having your wig catch fire when she moved to curtsy."

"She fell off a building and landed on top of me," I briskly inserted.

At this, she slid to the edge of her seat and told me, "Do bring her around when she accepts you."

I marked that smile as her churlish one and I had meant to bring Serenity back.

Maid Serenity's Point of View

Father never could take over the handy work after the war. Mother used to tell us stories of how remarkable and handsome he had been with both his legs, but Sammy and I only knew that he had but one leg. I've known this since the day they brought me into this world, but I don't think I was quite aware of it until I was able to walk and talk. After Sammy was born, it was made clear that Father only had one leg because so many responsibilities suddenly fell upon me. Mother had to spend most of her time nursing Sammy and Father was only capable of doing his usual tasks, so Mother's work was bestowed upon me.

I was only eight and Mother told me to stoke the fire. I ended up pulling out an ember from the fireplace and lighting up the hydrangea on the other side of the room. I was only eight when Mother asked me to tend to the horses. I got into a fracas with a new mare and ended up caked in mud. I was only eight when Mother ordered me to serve some guests in the lobby. The meals ended up off the plates and on Mrs. Shirk's blue summer dress. My failure at everything she told me to do threw me into the corner of the house, standing on one foot with my fingers pinching my ears. She made me recite alms by memory one hundred times. I had barely a memory, so I was made to repeat the wrong words with the right words for another two hundred times. I remember how the recitations helped in one way and that was that they prepared me for the next day of punishment. Any genius could see that my sentences were becoming shorter by the minutes as the years past on.

The patrons were relieved when Mother finally returned to her full duties. Little Sammy was old enough to do his share of work, while I was held back somewhat. Not today, though. Today, Mother was sick in bed, and for the first time in five years, my mother trusted her job to me again. Unluckily, I had awoken at noon and father was standing over my bed, complaining about the sign at the front of the house.

The sign! I was supposed to wake up before the break of dawn to get it fixed. Scrambling out of bed, I went by Father to get to my work boots.

"If you're going to go out, at least put some clothes on," he grumbled.

I ran back in and pulled out the curtains. Behind the curtains, I changed out of my night rail and into my work dress and squeezed into my white leggings. For protection from the chill, I shrugged into the usual coffee-brown vest I wore. Then, I pulled on my boots once more.

"The ladder's around back, behind the barn. Call me if Gary needs help."

"I can handle it, Father."

His order came out as pugnacious as he willed it to sound in my ears. "Child-get-Gary-down-here-to-help-out." I wonder why Father was always so belligerent.

I let him know I was frustrated with his order by returning his menacing stare down with a glare of my own. Gary had told me (not Father) that he was going to leave town by noon. I had forgotten to mention that I needed his help on the previous day at lunch. Father wouldn't have been thrilled to hear me tell him that, so I did what I did best. I lied. "I'll ask Gary for a hand. Thank you." He was petting the back of my hand and I kissed him on the cheek.

Before I set out to work I had a glass of milk already on the table for my drinking. Now, that I was a little older and much wiser, as well as energized, I was ready to start the day heading the business that had been around since my great grandparents founded it.

It took me extra time to move the ladder from behind the barn to the front of the house. It took me longer to locate the hammer and the nails. I didn't know what time it was when I actually finally started the actual task of mending our sign, but by that time it was warm enough to take off my vest. I began with a corner of the sign, hanging off a hinge I could not actually see. There, I hammered two nails in. My hands had been quicker than my thoughts and I dropped a few of the nails that were in my mouth to the crevices of the shingled roof. There was some buoyancy and somehow the nails ended up just beyond my reach. I was stretching to the maximum that my joints would allow. I even stepped up an extra wrung to reach for my lost nails. Unfortunately I missed the step and slipped. My wrist hit the siding and I fell.

I thought I was going to die, but to my astonishment I landed and I was able to gasp a breath. My back felt like it was on top of a cushion that was as hard, yet soft as a bale of hay. It moved, too. It also groaned like a man gone in pain.

My first thought was I'm alive! My second thought was I killed someone in consequence! Before I had fully recovered my senses, I rolled off my savior to inspect my damages.

"Sir, forgive me! I pray that nothing is broken!" I could barely see through my unshed tears as I looked at the finely dressed man. He was blinking furiously at me until our gazes, at last, clashed. They were such a beautiful hazy blue that I wondered how they would look if I hadn't accidentally squashed him and hurt him. I leaned closer to see if he would respond and I saw something in his look that momentarily took my breath away. In his eyes was the ebbing of the tides in the ocean after the storm. His look was tender as if he was more worried that I had broken something than his own well being.

I was about to reassure him I was all right, when someone suddenly lifted me off my knees by the elbow and propped me to the side. The same person reached for my savior and helped him up in a more wary and solicitous fashion. I felt terribly guilty of any injury on him, so I shouted a command to my brother. He assured me with his childish cry, "already on it, Sis!" I thought if I hadn't died from the fall, I should have died of embarrassment.

I tried to be polite to the new guests as I introduced myself to them. Meanwhile, Father was jumping out of the house and coming at me in haste. He screamed the question. "What was that 'clack?'"

The blood was throbbing in my ears, so I barely heard his question at first and meekly answered him. "The 'tacks' are half in the new sign, Father."

"I mean the noisy 'clack' sound, child!"

I could hardly move because I was so numb with humiliation. "The ladder fell."

"With who on it?!" He was still shouting at me.

"Why do you assume anyone was on it?"

"You said 'the tacks are half in!' They can't be 'half in' if no one hadn't climbed up by the ladder, child."

A tenor voice, as enriched in texture and color tone as velvet, spoke. "This lady here was tacking up a new sign of sorts, a task not appropriate for any such lady. As she was doing so, she fell and landed right on top of me." My eyes dropped and I couldn't look at the men anymore. I especially couldn't meet the eye of the man with the eerie, yet beautiful voice, who saved me from a neck-breaking free fall.

Father suddenly addressed someone else other than me. "Lord Darien!"

"Lord Darien?" I repeated in a half whisper. I planted myself on the Lord of Darien? I had rather died in the crash than face the one man that people called the scourge of the land. He had a reputation of being the fiercest lord to ever manage the stations and farms. Thus, the king favored him. I didn't recognize him at first look because he had grown so much taller and so much broader since I last saw him during my season.

I was still trying to recall how he looked three years ago while Father was pleasantly conversing with him. "Please, right this way, so we can make you comfortable. It has been a long time since you decided to come see our Lady LeBrass."

"I won't stay long. Only for some lunch."

I corrected him and said, "You mean supper. It is quite late for lunch."

Father chided me, making me wish I had kept my mouth shut. I lamely followed the men into the building. The quelling shame branded my insides and made it impossible to concentrate on the list of chores in my mind. My memory was unreliable when I was nervous.

Bang, bang, bang were the noises my father made when we were in the kitchen. These were noises he made anywhere to show his release of pent up frustration. Then, while I was pumping air into the oven, he spun around and hurtled a rolling pin at me. I caught it inches to my nose without blinking. Part of me was relieved that his anger was not centered on heated words. Part of me wished the heart of his anger wasn't causing him to throw things at me.

Finally I said, "That wasn't so bad."

He whiplashed his head around and glowered at me even though I knew he didn't mean to. He was just worried. "Yes, not bad… This is dreadful!"

I snatched the spatula that grazed my flapping hair. "I suppose there's his awful lack of drollness to consider in a situation like this."

"That was not funny, Serenity!" He spat.

Setting my equipment down, I huffed back, "It was clearly an accident on my part. If anything I hold myself absolutely accountable and responsible."

"You know I won't allow that, Serenity. By nature, freak accidents occur. Oh, why, oh, why…" He smashed an onion on the chopping board as the tears burst from his eyes.

I spoke to myself even though I was sure I sounded direct to my father, "That was the Lord Darien?! Oh no, Father! I almost killed him!"

"What exactly happened, child?"

I was hysterical and my inners wanted to explode, "He became my cushion, that's what! Oh, Father, I can't go to prison! I'll be tried for attempted murder."

He breathed through his nose. "Child, if he's fair, it'll only be an assault charge."

"I'm not fit for a cage."

Someone cleared his throat. I slowly turned my head to the side and saw the handsome Lord Darien standing in front of my kitchen door. He had on this deep scowl that penetrated my very soul. "My men and I are hungry. When will we be served?" I blinked, skeptical that the toneless voice came from that scowling face.

Father released his cane and something like a rock hit my back. I winced at the princely man and prayed he hadn't seen the look. Those hard biscuits if aimed properly at the target really hurt! "Right away, my lord. The oven needs to preheat. As soon as it's hot enough we can cook."

I held my breath, knowing he had something else to say to me. "Do away with these, then. They are ruined!" He tossed his handsome coat and gloves on the bench by the door.

Instinctively I moved to his side and took up the items. "They look expensive. How about I give them a wash?" It was just a suggestion I made because I thought it would be wasteful to do away with such rich material.

"Fine," he snapped. I was left in the wake of the kitchen door swinging after his departure.

I rotated to face my father, who looked pale and remorseful. Slowly and painfully, he limped through the back door. He paused to look at me and say, "I'll speak with your mother… Tonight, we pray together as a family."

It was difficult to pay attention. Mother warned me about giving full attention to whatever present task might be in front of me. I truly did take her advice, but things still never turn out the way I wished they would.

I placed the dough on the frying pan and the pan in the oven. When I shut the door I think what happened was, my apron got caught. It was pulled right off my body and I hadn't a clue. I kept swishing through the kitchen, tending to the little things. When I was walking past the oven again I believe the apron strap stuck to the bottom of my muddy boots. I was circling the kitchen with the blazing apron under foot when my father burst in with a shout. "Serenity, I smell something burning."

His gaze followed the trail of blaze. The sleeve of my shirt lit up.

I yipped. Yes, yipped. Then, I brutally smacked the flame off against the table. The table cloth lit up.

"Shoot!" Father cried.

"Serenity!" I plunged through the kitchen door and entered the private den that split the kitchen from the front door of the inn. I was running to get to the door, hoping and pleading to reach the way out before any of our guests should see me.

"I say… Serenity, you must hold still!" I was doused in water and I could smell the smoke coming off myself. The smell didn't stop me, nor did my father.

I gathered some air in my lungs and announced to the world that I was going to go see Molly for a favor. I ran, dripping, to Molly's café. I was seeking redemption by collecting some dinner for the guests who were probably waiting for dinner and getting angrier or hungrier by the minute.

"Moll!"

My best friend was pouring some coffee into her patron's cup as she raised her hand to stop me from speaking. When she finally looked up she said to me, "Gawd, Serenity! Did you go swimmin' in the lake at twenty degrees?"

"If that can end this nightmare, I will do just that."

She set her coffee pot down on the counter. "You smell like smoke, Serenity."

I waggled my heavy head. "Don't ask."

"Ah get it. You're lookin' for some favors agan. Tell me ah got the bull by his horns just for the satisfaction."

I rolled my eyes. None of her regulars even glanced at me. Good. "I need dinner. Satisfied?"

Molly picked up the basket set against the wall at the end of the counter. She handed that basket to me, her eyes locked to mine. "That bad, huh? Well, gimme the scoop when it's over."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she went right over me. "Feeds twenty."

"You're an angel, dear," I sighed, already hurrying out the door.

"To balance the devil in you…"

I turned. "Oh, yeah, Moll. If you don't get word from me by tomorrow night, you can get first dibs on my closet."

Molly looked up to raise her thin, auburn eyebrow at me, but I already hit the door. She would be thrilled if she owned the contents in my closet.

I dreaded returning to that doomed world I used to call my home. It was infested with the scary man named Lord Darien. As I fed them, I sensed the venom dripping from his stare. I didn't need to see because I could feel him. Those midnight eyes were that powerfully penetrating. When I actually saw him I asked him why he was so wet. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch. It rattled me the way his face distorted as if he was holding back from lashing out at me. It scared me, too.

When our eyes met, I couldn't tear me gaze away from his. It was as if a paranormal thread held our eyes together. I wondered if his eyes were smiling at me when he suddenly and starkly ordered me to attend to the next task on his mind. His words were glazed with a coldness that made me shiver.

"Serenity, take your time with this," he said, "Now, where will I stay tonight?"

"You're staying?" My reedy voice deafened my own ears.

"Yes, take me to my room." He stood.

I called Sammy and the spunky child jumped out from the kitchen with this grim look that I had never seen on him before. "Okay, Sis…"

Later that night we prayed as a family. The look Father, Mother, and Sammy gave me said, 'you have doomed us all.'

I couldn't sleep knowing that I might have harmed my entire family. I don't think there's ever been a night in my life that I had skipped sleeping. I was certain that midnight eyes of Lord Darien haunted me for the first time in my life as well.

First time I got up at the break of dawn. I got out of bed early to scrub clean Lord Darien's cotton gloves and velvet coat. It took longer than expected, but I had no wish to present anything less than perfect to a man of perfect caliber. Those eyes told me more about who he was than the rumors that the land seemed to whisper to the inhabitants. I grew doubtful that I would survive another day, yet I had this unexplainable hope cross my mind when I remember his soulful eyes on me. Did he know that although he spoke icily, his eyes would bubble with warmth? It was a baffling combination and I muddled over it as I watched his clothes dry in the sun. I gathered his dried coat and gloves in a basket and drew a sheet over them. I was walking by my mother's room when I heard her call to me.

"Serenity, off to work already?"

"It's almost noon," I answered.

"Really! I've been in bed so long I lost track of time." She nodded at the basket by the foot of her bed. "I finished folding your clothes."

I glanced at the basket covered with a sheet. I stared at that and then I stared at the wall. My gaze shifted to the window, too.

"Serenity, come here," Mother murmured.

I climbed into Mother's bed and curled under her bent arm. "Whatever happens, your father promises to take care of it."

I burrowed under her covers and rested my head on her elbow. "I'm grateful, but I'm sorrier…"

"Shhh…" She kissed my crown. "Maybe it's best you just focus on what has to be done today."

My eyes widen and I scramble out of her bed. I grabbed at the basket and headed for Endymion's room.

Again he was so cold. He didn't even look at me as he adjusted his cravat. He said, "Leave it over here," without pointing. I thought my tears might erupt out of me, not because I was scared that I would do something wrong… again… but because I had not reassurance from his demonstrative eyes. I deeply wished to see those eyes. Yet, I knew it was best to say nothing and leave.

I stepped out of his room, leaving the door slightly ajar in case he needed to call upon me. I looked up and I saw Sammy waving Endymion's gloves around. Now, how did Endymion's glove come to be in my brother's hands, I asked myself? Sammy was telling me something in his wild, yet silent way. He always seemed like a strange, demented looking monkey to me, but today took the cake. "Sammy, what…" I trailed off, seeing that he also had Endymion's coat with him.

"Now, you get it?" He whispered the question.

I didn't answer. I snatched the gloves and coat from him and ran back. "I beg your pardon, Lord Darien!" I gasped out.

I felt my face burn with embarrassment. The Lord Darien had his hands in my clothes! The whole time, he had a confused look about him.

He withdrew his hand from my items and said softly, "I was wondering when you would slip up this day… I wonder no more. These must be yours and not mine."

I stuttered an apology through a thick tongue.

He held up a hand to cut me off. "Enough."

Everything inside me shook. "Let me help you pack."

"My consolation for all your faux pas." He said it casually.

I looked at him and saw something flash in his eyes. He seemed regretful for some reason. I could only stutter myself again. "I…I…I…"

He took me to his bed and ordered me to sit. "You may help me get ready for my return to my mother."

He didn't look at me as he left me in the dust. I was still shaking and I swore I could not face this man again unless he dangled a noose in front of me. No way was I going to put myself in his way. Sammy was just going to wait hand and foot today! Lucky boy only had an hour or two left at that job!

When Endymion did leave, I felt torn between relief and sorrow. I knew why I was relieved, but the sorrow part was something utterly puzzling. I best talk to Molly and tell her more about what she can and cannot touch in my closet when I'm gone. Aside from that kind of talk, maybe she could explain the annoying and itchy feeling inside my chest that's been bothering me more than the disappointment on my parents' face when they look at me.

Our Point of View

Serenity was taking the donkey, Bertie, for some exercise. She loved old Bertie because he never bit her like the other horses did. He also understood that slow and steady kept her from fumbling. She would never find a better companion in another person or beast would she?

She was pulling up the road when she recognized the black and round coach that belonged to Lord Darien. She went out to get two bags of flour. She went out for only an hour today and this was what she had to return to?!

Serenity stopped behind the coach, petting Bertie between the ears. She was going through worse case scenarios when Endymion gallantly stepped out of the front of the house.

He called out to her, "I thought I heard you!"

The young woman pulled her horse a few trots back even as the princely man approached her with purposeful strides. She was looking about her, expecting the sheriff and his men to spring on her. Her doleful eyes instead fell on her father, who was hobbling out of the house. He seemed downcast like her, yet he stood taller than she had ever seen him.

She moved Bertie to her right as the man came to her. Only when she felt taller on Bertie, did she feel the courage to stand up to Endymion. "Lord Darien." Serenity acknowledged him with a curt nod.

"Are you coming down?" He queried.

"I'm fine where I am."

At last she saw his smile falter. She hadn't even noticed him smiling until the smile was wiped away.

"It's uncomfortable speaking to you like this," he said.

"Twill be the last time I can speak to you like this… On my Bertie."

"Is Bertie sick?" Endymion looked worried to Serenity's surprise.

"No! And I won't let my family suffer."

Endymion lifted a brow.

"I know what you want. You need not denounce my family. I take full responsibility for the harm I have done."

"You are valiant, Serenity!" The young lord exclaimed. "I assure you, what I want only you can give. And what I offer is to you only."

"You do not ask my father to give his self up?"

He looked equally puzzled. "He only gave me what I came here for. I must seek the rest from you."

She said nothing to this, so Endymion pulled her out of her saddle and set her beside him. His hands stayed warm against her sides. Her hands leaned on his shoulders to steady her feet. Endymion glanced nervously at the people present before he leaned down and spoke into her ear. Serenity gave a curt nod and followed him indoors to that private den where she waited on him two nights ago. It was the private den where he had seen her catch on fire. It was also the den where they were both drenched in water…

It felt right to have her hand in his. Truth and calm was here between the touch of hand and hand.

"I don't know how to go about this the proper way," he started.

"Can you explain why Father looks so devastated?" She laughed shakily.

"He was reluctant to give up his beloved daughter to the scourge of this land." A smirk played at his mouth, too. "Unbelievable…"

"I don't understand, Lord Darien."

"Endymion."

A small smile quirked her lips. "Endymion." There was a candor in the situation and it opened a flooded gate; the gate that held a wave of worries and woes.

She felt his hold on her hand tighten. "Serenity, marry me."

"Huh?" Her hand dangled in his.

"Will you marry me?"

"Oh… Oh! Marry?! This might not be your wish! Didn't Father tell you what happened at the Season three years ago?"

He rolled his eyes. "He did and so did my mother. It's silly to change my mind about you through one disastrous incident."

"Actually, they came one after another," she added timorously.

"Yes, I know that first hand. My mother finds your nature quite fetching."

Flustered, Serenity placed her palm over one burning cheek. "The Lady LeBrass… Oh!"

"Is that a yes?"

"Huh? Lady LeBrass?

He squeezed her hands. "Marriage… You as my wife…"

"I thought you hated me or wanted me hanged…"

"What gave you that absurd idea?"

Serenity trembled visibly. "You're voice. You're tone. But, I noticed your eyes were always different."

He chuckled. "There's only that nonconformity when I'm around you. Other men overlook the fun you cast in this boring world. You opened my eyes, Serenity."

"You flatter me. I have never been flattered before," she said, glowing.

"You stray again from my question."

"Do I dream?"

"If you do, then this is one long dream for the both of us."

"In my dream it would be a definite yes."

He kissed her fingertips. "In reality?"

"Steady yes."

…

The innkeeper's wife with a terrible case of bed hair went over to the newly engaged pair.

"I was sick for two days and now you're engaged. I expected fires, but this!" She beamed at them despite her shock.

Serenity and Endymion visited the Lady LeBrass. Upon their arrival, Lady LeBrass readily descended from her front steps. She gathered Serenity's hands and whispered in her conspiratorial voice, "Splendid. You are devastatingly perfect."

Serenity looked over her shoulder at her fiancé to see the reaction on his face. The stoic man's face cracked. He showed how much he agreed with his mother via uninhibited laughter.

…