Author's Note: Hello, all! I want to thank you guys for the support you've given this story! Thank you so much! I've only just started writing the third chapter so the update time between this chapter and the next might be a little longer, so sorry about that!

Enjoy :)

Kent

September 1912

Though Belle Deveraux had lived in the country for as long as she could remember, she'd never grown accustomed to country life. She longed for the sweeping and busy cities she read about in her novels, where there were always new people to meet, and new places to see.

In the small village of Chartham, Kent, it was as if the same day had been on repeat for the past five years. Every morning, Belle would walk the short distance from her and her father's cottage to the bakery, then run any other errands, and finally walk to the small church where the village's tiny collection of books was kept. Even if she didn't need to borrow another, the conversations she shared with Father Robert were just as wonderful.

Smiling as the small stone church came into view, her pace quickened, and she was already thinking about what book she would borrow next. Father Robert was dusting one of the stained-glass windows when she entered the drafty church, but at the sound of the door he turned and smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Miss Deveraux," he chirped, climbing down from the small wooden ladder he was perched on. "Good morning!" she replied, giving him a smile in return and then making a beeline for the books. "Borrowing a new book already?" Father Robert chuckled, leaning against the long wooden duster he had been using.

"I couldn't put it down. You know it's my favourite," she said. "Oh, what I would give to see Romeo and Juliet performed on stage, or better yet, travel to fair Verona itself!" Belle sighed, and imagined being at Royal Albert Hall in London, watching at Romeo performed his soliloquy below Juliet's balcony. But that fantasy was a long way off. While she and her father did well for themselves at their little cottage, raising chickens, and growing vegetables, they never had enough money travel great distances. Her father occasionally took the train to the larger cities in Kent – or even London if he was lucky – to sell his music boxes, but he never let Belle come, no what how much she asked. As a consolation however, he never failed to bring back a red rose for her; her favourite flower.

"With a job at the big house, you might be able to," Father Robert said. "Have you received an answer yet?"

Belle shook her head. It was only a few days ago when she'd done an interview at Theron Hall, the expansive estate of the Earl of Villeneuve, in hopes of becoming a housemaid. It wasn't a glamourous job, but it wasa job in which she would earn more than what she was now making selling vegetables. She'd have to move to the big house, away from her father, but that would mean he wouldn't have to pay for her living, saving them more money. It had taken him quite a lot of convincing after she'd surprised him that she'd applied for the position at all, but he eventually came around.

"Well, they would be lucky to have you," the priest said. "Thank you," Belle replied, placing the worn copy of Romeo and Juliet on a small wooden table. "Do you have anything new?" she asked, skimming the small collection of books. The village had no library, and there were only twenty books in the church's collection, though Father Robert did receive new ones from time to time.

"I'm afraid not," Father Robert said regrettably. "But you may borrow any one of the others." Belle tried to hide her disappointment, but was grateful all the same that he let her borrow the books, as no one else did. It seemed almost criminal to her, that the books sat on the table only collecting dust, when they would be much more useful in the hands of eager readers wanting to be transported away from the tiny, uneventful village. That was why Belle wanted to seek employment at the big house, so she could travel to all the places she read about, to see the vast libraries of great universities, to have an adventure. None of these could be accomplished by simply farming in Chartham.

Belle picked A Midsummer Night's Dream from the collection and hugged it slightly against her chest. "Thank you," she said, as she did every time she borrowed one of Father Robert's books. He smiled warmly, and gave a slight bow from the waist. "Have a pleasant day, Miss Deveraux."

"Good bye," she replied, stepping out into the cooling autumn air. Belle slipped the book into a pocked she'd sewn into her skirts and pulled her jacket tightly around her shoulders. It wasn't terribly cold that morning, but the breeze certainly made it seem that way. Still, the villagers were out and about, farming winter vegetables, harking their products, or simply running errands as Belle was doing. A few women were gathered at the small memorial dedicated to those who had perished on board the Titanic five months earlier. There weren't many from their small village on board the massive ocean liner, but enough families petitioned the village hospital to hold a fundraiser for the memorial. Belle could almost imagine how the mourners were feeling; grieving over loved ones with no bodies to put to rest. Her own mother had died when she was very young, but there was no body, nor grave, nor memorial to remember her by; only her father's sketches and seldom-told stories.

Belle quickened her pace, eager to return home. And eager to avoid the courting attempts of Gaston Leroux, a vain young man who had this odd fixation with her. However many times she expressed her disinterest in a courtship, he simply returned the next day as if her words had been forgotten. He was loved, much to Belle's surprise, by all the other young women of the village but he hardly returned the favour. It was true there was a certain charisma about the young man (he held the rank of captain in the army) that the villagers couldn't help but be fixated on, but he was terribly vain and arrogant to think she'd accept him eventually. He would never make her happy, and nor she him. And not only that, Belle had no interest to marry at present. She had too much to do, and too much to see.

"Good morning, Belle!" An all-too familiar and deep voice rang out through the streets. Belle stopped in her tracks, and inwardly groaned. She turned to the man smiling radiantly and holding a bouquet of flowers. "Good morning," she replied as politely as she could, trying to hide the annoyance in her tone. She was finding it very difficult.

As one would typically hand flowers to another gently, Gaston instead thrust the bouquet at her. "For your dinner table," he said. "May I join you this evening?"

Belle gave a pathetic half-smile, desperately trying not to roll her eyes at his self-invitation. "Not tonight," she said, and walked away from him. Just this once, please leave me alone. But of course, the young man continued to make an effort.

"Have you gotten a reply from the big house yet?" he asked. With her back to him, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted. "Because if we married you wouldn't have to work. You could stay at home raising our children." Belle didn't know whether to laugh or gag at the prospect of raising Gaston's children.

Finally, having enough of being followed halfway across the village, she stopped and looked at him. "Mr. Leroux, I'm sure there are plenty of other women who would love that life. But it's not for me, so please, stop asking." Without giving him time to respond, Belle picked up her skirts and ran back towards her cottage, ignoring Gaston's pleas for her to stop.

When Belle finally arrived, she found her father at his work desk, tinkering with the gears of an intricate music box. He was humming to himself, the tune sounding like a peaceful lullaby, and Belle couldn't help but stop and listen. Her father was always tinkering with gears and cogs, and would make the most beautiful creations. He'd taught her his art when she was young, and she'd picked it up through the years. He admitted that she was better at it than he was, though Belle doubted it.

He cleared his throat when he noticed she'd entered. Belle placed her borrowed book on a little wooden table beside her favourite reading chair, taking a view seconds to peak its first pages.

"The post came while you were out," her father chimed, looking up from his work. Belle looked up from the book with a jolt. "A letter came for you," he said as she approached the work table. "Addressed from the big house."

Belle grinned widely and took the letter from her father. She desperately searched for the simple letter opener they always had hanging about, but soon her nervousness got the better of herself and she resorted to using her nails to open the envelope. Belle scanned the contents of the letter, perhaps a bit too quickly, and let out an excited cry.

"I got it!" she exclaimed, practically jumping for joy. "I've got the job! I can start next week, and use the weekend to get myself settled into the house!"

"I never had any doubt in you," her father replied, though his smile faded slightly. Concerned, Belle took a seat beside her father. "What is it, Papa?"

"I just can't bear the thought of you leaving to live in that monstrous house, all alone."

"But I won't be alone, Papa. Theron Hall has at least thirty other staff, probably more, and I'll be able to visit you on my days off. I'm not confined to the walls of the big house."

"I'll miss you all the same."

"And I you, but this job will be good. If I save up enough of my wages, I might be able to travel to London, or even beyond!"

Her father laughed gently, and kissed the top of her head. He continued to gaze at her, like he was remembering something. "You remind me so much of her," he whispered, his eyes shining. Belle didn't have to ask whom he was referring to. He practically told her the same thing every day. The short sentence revealed so much about Belle's mother, and yet told her so little.

"She would be so proud of you, my girl."

Sunday afternoon, Belle and her father rode to the big house together in their horse-drawn wagon. Though Belle had seen Theron Hall before, its size and elegance never ceased to amaze her. The grounds and gardens surrounding Theron were bright and colourful, and the house that sat in the middle was like one of the sprawling castles she read about in her novels. Too many windows to count, over one hundred rooms, and countless places to clean.

Viewing Theron as a new housemaid made a wave a nervousness wash over her suddenly, but she was also unbearably excited. She was very fortunate to work in a great house such as Theron, when so many struggled to find suitable employment.

"Can you believe you'll be living here?" her father asked in amazement. Belle laughed lightly. "Don't get too excited, Papa. I'm sure the servants' quarters are much different than those belonging to the guests."

After a heartfelt and somewhat tearful goodbye, Belle entered the back door into the servants' hall. Young men and women rushed about in varying uniforms. Some of the women wore light blue dresses with stark white aprons and white bonnets, other wore plainer dresses (still with aprons), with their hair tied into tight knots at the nape of their necks. A few young men wore white tie, as they were more likely to be in the presence of the master of the household – the young son of the Earl of Villeneuve. While Mr. Adam (as she was instructed to address him) was not technically the master of Theron Hall, Lord Villeneuve seldom spent time in his family's ancestral home, making his son a sort of proxy. She didn't know much about the young aristocrat, only that he'd garnered quite the reputation for spending, gambling, and partying in London. But that had all been put to a stop ever since he moved back into Theron five months earlier, always keeping to himself. He never attended any village events, and Belle didn't even think he left the inside of the house.

"Ah, Belle!" A chipper voice rang through the halls. She turned to see the housekeeper, Mrs. Potts, approaching her with a wide smile. Belle smiled in return. Mrs. Potts had been the one to interview her, with the butler, Cogsworth sitting silently beside her, so she was the only staff member she was familiar with.

"Welcome to Theron Hall. Why don't I give you a quick tour of the servants' hall, and then show you to your room."

"Thank you," Belle replied.

"The staff comprises of thirty-five members including myself and Cogsworth. More importantly for you to know, there are seven other housemaids. You've come at a rather unusual time, however, because Mr. Adam's three aunts and their families will be staying later on in the week for a few days."

"Mr. Adam doesn't normally host for others?" Belle asked curiously. Mrs. Potts shook her head. "Lord Villeneuve often arranges for eligible women and their families to stay for a night or two, but a large family gathering such as this is quite rare."

The housekeeper continued to guide Belle through the servants' hall – her new home, she reminded herself – pointing out the dining hall ("We eat after Mr. Adam has finished his dinner."), the kitchens, and the various other small and simple rooms to do tasks such as sewing, mending, or polishing. After, Mrs. Potts guided her up to the servants' quarters.

Belle's assigned room as plain, with white walls, two small beds, side tables with oil lamps, a chest of drawers, and a small wooden desk in the corner. The bed on the right had several maids' uniforms laid out – a light blue dress like she'd seen the others wear, a black dress, and a grey dress, all with corresponding white aprons.

"You will be sharing a room with Plumette, the head housemaid. Tomorrow she will guide you throughout the house and how and where you'll be cleaning," Mrs. Potts explained. Belle nodded, setting her suitcase at the foot of the bed. "I'll leave you to get settled, then. Plumette should be up soon to explain your duties in greater detail."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," she replied. Just as the housekeeper turned to leave, she stopped. "One more thing," she said. "If you do enter a room and Mr. Adam or any of the guests are there, avert your eyes and wait for them to leave or instruct you otherwise. Mr. Adam typically keeps to himself, however, so I don't suspect this being a problem."

Belle nodded, with a somewhat anxious feeling settling in her stomach. It wasn't so much at the prospect of running into the young aristocrat who employed her, but rather that her new surroundings and circumstances seemed to hit her all at once. She had thought, once that living and serving in the big house would be exciting, an adventure. And while Belle still felt that way, she now realized she knew nobody. Not any of the servants, or anyone else that could possibly become her friend.

Mrs. Potts seemed very kind and gentle of course, but Belle doubted she would become close friends with the housekeeper, as they would run in different circles every day, except perhaps during meals.

The older woman left the small room to let Belle settle in, and she finally sat the bed. She hadn't realized how tired her feet were after climbing three flights to stairs to the servants' quarters, which were located a floor above the main and guest apartments. It was odd to think that the future Earl of Villeneuve slept just below her, or that any of his wealthy guests did; that a single storey separated an immense class difference.

Belle shook off her nervousness and unpacked her clothes and put them neatly in the chest of drawers, took out a few of her father's sketches, and placed the small picture of her family on the bedside table. It had been taken when she was still an infant, wrapped in her mother's arms. It was one of the only tokens she had of her mother. She'd been told by her father that her mama was fearless, and now, Belle did her best to be the same.

Down in the servants' hall, Plumette was enjoying some rare and well-deserved free time from her day's work. She was drinking a warm cup of tea brewed by one of the kitchen maids and discussing Mr. Adam's behaviour that day with Lumiere, the first footman and her sweetheart (though Cogsworth never failed to mention how inappropriate these relationships were between the staff). Mrs. Potts (much to Cogworth's dismay), however, let them carry on, so long as they were not committing any indecent behaviour, especially before marriage.

The footman had just come down from serving luncheon and was desperate to see his love again after enduring Mr. Adam's continued grumpiness over his soon-to-be visiting relatives.

"He was the same as he'd been for the past week," Lumiere grumbled, and aggressively buttered a piece of bread from the centre of the table. "I swear, if he could make his aunts stay in the pub for the duration of their visit, he would."

"Lady Brankford wouldn't stay in a pub even if Theron were on fire," Plumette chuckled, taking another sip of her tea. While Mr. Adam's aunts and their families seldom visited Theron Hall (they would typically gather at the Marquess and Marchioness of Brankford's grander home), he (and the Theron staff) would nonetheless be expected to act as if they were hosting the King and Queen themselves. That's what Cogsworth drilled into their minds since their first days at the big house. Both he and Mrs. Potts had been working here longer than anyone, since Mr. Adam was a child. They acted like Theron Hall was Buckingham Palace, though Mr. Adam never seemed to appreciate it.

And now that his relatives were visiting it only made him more insufferable. It meant more cleaning, more washing, more mending. The entire house had to be spotless, which was easy for Mr. Adam and Cosgworth to say. They never had to do any of the work.

"Lord Brankford can stay in the pub, for all I care," Lumiere said. "When is his Lordship going to invite more women to dinners here? At least they are politer."

"You're not the one dressing them and mending their hats, love," Plumette countered.

"Even so, the more ladies at dinner, the more likely Mr. Adam will marry, and the less likely we will be out on the street."

Plumette shook her head at Lumiere's fantasy. Ever since Mr. Adam had made his return to Theron after the Titanic disaster, he'd been worried at if the estate goes to some such distant cousin of the Villeneuves (and a middle-class one at that), the new earl would assign new staff, or get rid of them all together. Or worse yet – sell Theron Hall.

"You're not talking ill about Mr. Adam's guests, are you?" The housekeeper's voice rang through the room, causing the two sweethearts to look up, startled.

"No, Mrs. Potts," Lumiere replied quickly, earning a curt nod from the older woman. "Plumette, good, you're on a break," Mrs. Potts started. "The new housemaid, Belle, is up in your room. It would be nice if you could go up and introduce yourself."

Plumette nodded, and after giving Lumiere's hand a reassuring squeeze, left towards the room she shared with the new housemaid. The last one, Alice, a young girl no older than seventeen had left service to become a secretary. It had caused quite the stir downstairs – Cogsworth was appalled by the notion of a woman leaving the security of the big house, or that service was beneath the girl. She'd constantly repeated that she liked service, but she wanted to move on to something different. Mrs. Potts had supported her of course, and when she announced she'd been offered a job for some solicitor or another they'd even had a small farewell party for her.

Alice had only been at Theron for a few years, but she was kind and bright, and always confided in Plumette. It would be a lie to say that Plumette wasn't disappointed when Alice left the house; she'd been a close friend, but she was glad the girl was pursuing her goals. It was rare to see that in service.

Now the head housemaid hoped Alice's replacement would be equally friendly. Plumette knew she was from the village, so at least she would be familiar with the area. That was always useful whenever the kitchen maids were too busy to run errands in the village, so the maids were ordered to do them instead. But other than that, all Mrs. Potts ever said about the girl was that she was very nice, and charming, and determined.

Plumette hoped, rather selfishly, that this new girl would stay in service longer than Alice had. Lumiere was determined to be Theron's butler in the future, and Plumette a lady's maid to the Countess of Villeneuve if Mr. Adam ever did marry, and she wanted a friend who was as passionate about service as she was.

Most would think it odd, to want to be a lady's maid, but not for Plumette. She always volunteered to do any sewing or mending, and when guests came without ladies' maids, Mrs. Potts always asked her to take care of them. She loved service, and hoped the girl now sharing her bedroom would love it as well.

"You must be the new housemaid." The voice was gentle, but startled Belle all the same, knocking her from the thoughts of her mother. She turned to the doorway and found a young woman, not so much older than herself, dressed the light blue maid's uniform she'd seen in the servants' hall.

Belle stood, and gave a bright smile. "Yes. Belle Deveraux," she said, extending her hand for the other maid to shake. "Plumette," the woman smiled back and graciously accepted the shake. "Welcome to Theron, I hope you're not too intimidated."

"Perhaps a little, but excited as well," Belle replied. "I've never worked in a house such as this."

"You'll get the routine soon enough. But I'm sure Mrs. Potts informed you that Mr. Adam's relatives are visiting later this week, so the workload is heavier than usual."

"Yes, she did say that," Belle said, wondering who would warrant such an increase in the workload. It wasn't as if they were entertaining the King himself. "Who are these relatives, exactly?"

"His Lordship's – that is – the earl's three sisters and their families," Plumette explained. "The Marquess and Marchioness of Brankford and their three children; Sir Frederick Donovan and Lady Anna Donovan and their two daughters; and finally, the Viscount and Viscountess Sutton with their two children."

Belle's eyebrows raised. "My, what a party," she said.

"Quite," Plumette replied. "It also means more staff in the house what with the women's ladies' maids and the men's valets, so the servants hall will get more crowded than usual."

Plumette obviously noticed the look of intimidation on Belle's face, because she inched closer to her, like a sister would. "Don't worry," she said, smiling. "You still have a few days yet to get into the thick of things. And I've been told I'm a wonderful teacher."

Belle could help but smile. There was a certain warmth about her, it made her feel like Theron truly could be a new home.

Over the next few days, Plumette was ever so helpful in showing Belle the daily routine of a Theron housemaid. Wake up at six thirty in the morning, have breakfast, draw the curtains in the drawing rooms, fluff the pillows, sweep ashes away from the previous night, and then get the breakfast room ready for Mr. Adam. That was before he came down from his room. During his breakfast, they were required to strip the sheets from Mr. Adam's bed and replace them, and repeat this action for all the other bedrooms in the house (even when none of them were in use).

If Belle thought Theron Hall were very grand from the outside, it was even more so indoors. Everytime Plumette showed her a new room, she was constantly in awe of its beauty and elegance. The bedrooms were all filled with large four-poster beds, crystal decanters, and the finest oak furniture she'd ever laid eyes on. Just past the main entrance of the house opened to a large parlour with a gallery from above. White columns lined the upstairs gallery, with arches and the most exquisite architecture.

On it went, to the grand dining room, the small dining room, the breakfast room, and several drawing rooms, each one seemingly more opulent than the next. It was almost like out of a fairy tale.

Belle had never worked so hard in her life, but the experience of working in a grand house such as Theron also seemed to appease her frustrations, knowing that she was fortunate enough to be a maid and that after a few years she would be able to travel to London, at least. Plumette had become a quick friend, much to Belle's pleasure, taking her time with explanations and giving her wisdom from her years at Theron. When Belle had expressed her desire to travel, Plumette had said that some of the maids are able to go to London to work at Savoy House, The Villeneuve residence at St. James's Square, during the Season.

"Oh, how lovely that would be!" Belle had exclaimed while tucking fresh sheets under Mr. Adam's mattress on the second morning of her employment. His room was different than the others, and Belle couldn't shake off this feeling that she was somehow invading his privacy by being there, even though it was her job. The room was larger than those of the guests (but not larger than the seldom-used master bedroom), with two crystal chandeliers hanging from carved ceiling. A small balcony was situated at the far end of the room, just to the right of the four-poster bed. It was a stark comparison to the servants' rooms.

"Do the staff get a few hours off? I would love to see the galleries, and universities, the theatre…"

Plumette giggled at Belle's ambition, and admired her for it. "The staff usually gets some time off during the week, when His Lordship and Mr. Adam are attending parties elsewhere, but I'm afraid a staff outings are not as glamourous as your imaginings. Typically a walk in Hyde Park."

"Hyde Park sounds lovely, and perhaps I can save enough money to see a gallery, and convince Cogsworth to let me go," Belle said, making Plumette laugh at her persistence. "Well, you must promise to take me with you!"

"It would be an honour, my lady," Belle curtsied playfully, Mr. Adam's pillow in hand. Plumette laughed again, but her smile dropped slightly.

"What is it?" Belle asked.

"I don't want to disappoint you," Plumette started, "but I don't know if we'll able to attend the Season."

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't really be saying this… but, Mr. Adam isn't allowed to travel anymore because he had been spending too much money."

Belle's heart couldn't help but drop at the thought of not being able to travel to London with the other staff, but at the same time she was intrigued by her new employer. She'd heard of his reputation for partying, the whole village did, but she never knew the circumstances of his sudden return to Theron months ago. The Earl most likely wanted to keep it within the family.

Now, as the staff sat around the long wooden table in the servants' hall eating their dinner, Belle found herself wondering how long she'd have to work at Theron before earning enough to travel. She liked working at Theron, so far (it was nicer than being a farm hand to be sure), but she wasn't sure if Theron would be her future.

Belle snapped out of her thoughts as Cogsworth cleared his throat. The table became silent save for the scratching of cutlery against the ceramic bowls. "As you all know," his baritone voice rumbled, "Mr. Adam's relatives are arriving tomorrow morning. You will all be required to greet the guests outside the main entrance when they arrive at eleven o'clock, sharp. They will be staying for five days and a hunt is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I expect this house to be comparable to Buckingham."

Some of the staff groaned quietly at Cogsworth's words, as if it was something he preached on a daily basis.

Beside her, Plumette glanced at Mrs. Potts and raised her hand slightly. The housekeeper smiled, obviously knowing what the young housemaid was going to ask.

"Yes, Plumette," she said. "You will be taking care of Lady Theresa and Miss Donovan."

"Thank you," Plumette replied gratefully. Belle gave a confused look to her friend. "Lady Theresa is the daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Brankford, and Miss Elizabeth Donovan is the daughter of Lady Anna and Sir Frederick Donovan," Plumette supplied.

"I'll need to consult a family tree to remember all of Mr. Adam's relatives," Belle said with a chuckle.

"I shouldn't worry," one of the other footmen, a boy with light blonde hair no older than eighteen by the name of Percy, chimed in. "All we need to do is serve and clean and say 'yes, my lady,' or 'no, sir'. They never come down to the servants' hall, either. They can never be bothered."

"Fine for me as long as Lord Brankford does not call me a fool, like he did the last time," Lumiere said while shoving a spoonful of beef stew in his mouth.

Plumette put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "You are not a fool, love," she told him, almost in a hushed tone. "And your intelligence cannot possibly be judged by Lord Brankford, or anyone else, for that matter."

"I do love you," Lumiere smiled, and was just about to kiss her forehead when Cogsworth cleared his throat. The two jolted apart from each other, but shared a quick laugh nevertheless.

The butler continued for the rest of dinner, explaining the details of the visit until the long table was cleared for the night.

By the time Belle got into bed and turned off the oil lamp on her bedside table, her mind was swimming with thoughts of Mr. Adam's relatives. The first real guests of her time at Theron. She didn't know what to expect. Lumiere had already given the impression that Lord Brankford was not the nicest of men, but then again, she didn't expect to interact with any of the guests during their stay. Still, she wondered about them, their lives; probably too much for her own good.

Then her thoughts drifted to Mr. Adam. In her first few days at the big house, she'd still never caught a glimpse of him. He was almost starting to seem like a myth or a legend out of a story book. A myth with a scandalous reputation. Plumette had told her the maids seldom see their employer; it was mainly the footmen, his valet, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts who dealt with him. She'd made it seem like it was the hardest chore in the world, harder than cleaning every window or polishing every doorknob in the house.

Belle tried to think of her father instead, when she would be able to visit him, tell him about her work, but Mr. Adam still filled her thoughts as she drifted into sleep.