Grantaire let out a low whistle of approval as he watched Theresé walk down the hallway.

"Enjolras, you lucky dog. How can you leave this place as often as you do when you have such a lovely creature here?"

Enjolras shot his friend a frustrated look as Marius laughed and moved the papers off of the couch so he and Courfeyrac could sit.

"I thought she was Eponine when we first walked in, but 'Ponine isn't built," Grantaire placed the bottle down and made an hourglass motion with his hands, "like 'that'."

"Enough, Grantaire," Enjolras shot back at his friend. "We're here for a meeting, not to discuss whether or not we think my new maid is appealing."

"Have a heart, Enjolras! How am I supposed to react when a beautiful girl is right in front of me? Marius," Grantaire opened the bottle and handed it to Marius, "You think she's pretty, no?"

Marius nodded. "Yes, though she does remind me too much of 'Ponine to consider her further."

"Her hair is darker than Eponine's," Enjolras found himself saying. Before Grantaire could comment, Enjolras silenced him with a look that could kill. As he turned away, he even questioned himself.

Where did that come from?

"She must not be of full French blood. Spanish, maybe. No, Italian!" Grantaire became more excited with each sip of wine he took. Enjolras shook his head. His friend would be falling down before the meeting was over, and then nothing would get accomplished. Why did that girl have to show up today of all days? And why was he even thinking about her? He had time for one thing and one thing only; the salvation of the republic. France was his life, his love; he would not let one pretty girl turn his mind away from his true purpose.

But when the meeting was over and the men hurried home in the darkness of the night, Enjolras could not sleep. A vision of dark eyes and long dark hair kept him awake, his mind forcing him to imagine how her skin would feel against his and the sounds she would make as he kissed her senseless. He had to get her out of his head, and he came to the conclusion that Grantaire's method seemed the best way to do it.

Theresé removed her apron when she entered her room before washing her face in the basin on the dresser. Janelle, her roommate, watched as Theresé moved about the room while she braided her light brown hair.

"Did you have a good day, Theresé?" The two girls had gotten close since they had first moved in together, and Janelle regarded Theresé as an older sister, so she smiled when Theresé huffed as she prepared for bed.

"It could have been worse. I met one of the tenants; Monsieur Enjolras."

"You met him? What is he like?" Janelle asked, her grey eyes shining in awe. She had only ever heard stories about the young man who lived on the third floor, and felt a tinge of jealousy when she learned the new maid was assigned there. Theresé, however, turned to her with an angry look.

"He's terrifying...and rude! He threw his dirty clothes at me, even while his friends stood there watching him!"

Janelle waved her hand in the air to dismiss Theresé's comment. "But is he as handsome as I've heard?"

Theresé's eyes softened as she spoke. "Oh, Janelle, he's the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life. And such a powerful bearing! It's as if God had fashioned him with more care than the rest of us." She sat beside her on the bed and sighed. "I would give almost anything for him to see me as anything else but a maid."

"I hope you jest, Theresé," Janelle warned. "You know that Madame Varon doesn't tolerate any fraternizing with the boarders." Monsieur Varon was the landlord of the building, while his wife oversaw the employees. They were a very strict couple; they looked as if neither of them knew a day of laughter and Janelle had joked that she wasn't sure that they even knew how to smile. When Theresé was hired, Madame Varon had made it very clear that any indication of even flirting with one of the residents would be cause for immediate termination. Janelle knew that it would be difficult for anyone not to notice the lovely new maid, but Theresé thankfully didn't seem interested in a romantic encounter. Until today.

"I know, Janelle. But you would have felt the same way were you there too. I was sure my heart stopped beating when he looked at me." Theresé's hand flew to her chest, but she stopped smiling when she felt something missing. She panicked when she realized her necklace was gone. "My locket! Janelle, help me find it!" Theresé turned the blankets over and went down on all fours to search the floor.

Janelle helped her up and placed her hands on Theresé's shoulders to calm her. "I didn't see it on you when you came in, Theresé. Maybe it fell off in one of the rooms you were in?"

"Maybe; I'll have to check tomorrow when I make my rounds." Theresé paced in the small room and wrung her hands together frantically. "If I truly lost it, Janelle, it would be like losing my parents all over again. I don't think my heart can take any more pain!"