Author's note: Hello lovely readers! I want to thank you all for the continued support and your patience! In this chapter, we meet Adam's relatives so I've included a Game of Thrones-style family members list so you can keep track if you need to.

The Savoy Family, 1912
Lord Charles Savoy, the 14th Earl of Villeneuve
His late wife, Lady Clarissa Savoy (née Capet), Countess of Villeneuve
Their son and heir, the Honourable Adam Savoy (b. 1888, 25)

Lord V's elder sister, Lady Margaret Lascelles (née Savoy), Marchioness of Brankford, married to Lord William Lascelles, Marquess of Brankford
Their twin sons, the Honourable Alexander Lascelles and the Honourable Edward Lascelles (b. 1885, 27)
Their daughter, Lady Theresa Lascelles (b. 1891, 21)

Lord V's younger sister, Lady Anna Donovan (née Savoy), married to Sir Frederick Donovan
Their daughter, Elizabeth Donovan (b. 1895, 17)
Their daughter, Ada Donovan (b. 1898, 14)

Lord V's youngest sister, Lady Lyra Vaughn (née Savoy), Viscountess Sutton, married to Lord Henry Vaughn, Viscount Sutton
Their son, the Honourable Jonathan Vaughn (b.1904, 8)
Their daughter, the Honourable Eleanor Vaughn (b. 1906, 6)

Thank you, again and enjoy!

Kent

September 1912

It wasn't the first time Adam had been awaken from his sleep rather abruptly by someone loudly entering his room and drawing the curtains, but that morning, more than most, he wanted nothing more than to stay in his room all day. And if he couldn't do that, he wished to retreat to the library for some solace alone.

But that wasn't possible, for his valet, Chappeau, reminded him that his aunts would be arriving soon. "They took the nine o'clock train, sir," the valet said after suggesting he get dressed for breakfast. "They'll be here within the next two hours."

"All of them?" Adam grumbled from his bed, pulling the sheets further up over his head. He could hear Chappeau rummaging through his dressing room, picking out his suit jacket and cufflinks and the like.

"I believe so, sir," he said, emerging from the room. "Breakfast is just about ready and you must give the maids time to clean all the guest rooms before they arrive."

Adam rolled his eyes under the sheets, an action that would have earned him a stern look and a smack on the hand from his father. But his father wasn't here. For all his talk about saving money and marrying well, he never had enough interest to actually visit him. Adam was just to marry a girl with a sufficient fortune, and every few weeks he'd find out from Cogsworth that his father had invited a woman and her family to stay at Theron. The women always left disappointed.

Many of the women whom his father invited were very keen to gain Adam's favour, and didn't seem interested in anything else. However, there had been one that had piqued his interest, not so long ago. But she loved another, it was written all over her face. And even though Adam had considered marrying her anyway just to end his country imprisonment, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Some days he woke up regretting the decision. After all, the woman was probably married to another ghastly fellow she didn't love, and if they'd married at least he wouldn't have cared his she carried on with another man, so long as he could carry on with other women. He'd survived enough scandal to bare the gossip and papers.

Adam finally looked up from under the sheets at his valet and crinkled his nose. "No, not those. I wore them yesterday," he said, referring to the set of silver cufflinks Chappeau was setting out. "The gold ones instead."

Chappeau signed and retrieved the gold cufflinks from the dressing room, and when he returned Adam was still not out of bed. "Sir, I insist you get up."

Adam let out a tired groan. He knew his valet couldn't convince him to get up by himself, but Cogsworth would find a way sooner or later. Not wanting to endure the butler's wrath, Adam shook off the sheets and allowed Chappeau to dress him.

He wore a simple grey suit with a navy-blue cravat, much less extravagant than what he had worn in London. His father had still decreased his allowance even though Adam had agreed to go back to Kent, so he was rarely able to purchase new clothing – the clothing that he was used to, at least.

In the five months since he'd returned to Theron, he'd become as much as a recluse as a person of his station could become. When whatever woman or guest his father had invited to stay were not present, Adam read in the sanctuary of the library. In his mind, he was escaping the walls of Theron without leaving the ground, and no one could bother him.

After his valet was finished, Adam exited his room to go to breakfast. The scent of fresh-baked bread, eggs, and ham wafted from the bright breakfast room, making his stomach grumble. One thing he would never admit to anyone, was that he preferred the food from his childhood home more than he ever did the food of London. There was a certain comfort surrounding the Theron cook's food. It reminded him of the meals he shared with his mother before she died. After that his father was constantly traveling, and bringing Adam with him.

As he served himself from the silver trays at the front of the room and took a seat at the head of the table, Lumiere approached him with a letter on a silver tray.

"The post came for you this morning, sir," the footman said, bending down so Adam could take the letter from the tray.

"Is it my relatives saying they ran into trouble and have cancelled their visit?" Adam asked hopefully as he took the letter and the letter opener beside it. "No, sir, it's addressed from Mr. Edmund Lynn," Lumiere replied.

Adam's heart dropped. Another letter from Ned. That would be three times in one month, and countless others since he moved back. He opened the letter and skimmed it contents to find them the repeating inquiries of Ned's past letters. How was he doing? Was he traveling? What parties was he attending that he wasn't inviting Ned to? He folded the letter and placed it on the table in front of him.

Adam couldn't bring himself to reply to any of Ned's inquiries. He felt too ashamed of his father's threat to take away his fortune and inheritance to correct Ned's wild assumptions. And despite that, he couldn't let even the slightest rumour slip to London.

There had been many letters after his sudden departure from London, but after a few months Ned stopped writing about what other were saying. It was like everyone had forgotten about him. And now, despite himself, he wished Ned would forget about him too. It would be much easier that telling him his whole inheritance had been threatened unless he marries.

It wasn't as if Adam didn't want to marry, he just didn't expect he'd have to marry so soon. And being forced to marry a woman with considerable wealth never made the task easier. After what felt like countless courting attempts orchestrated by his father, Adam had resigned to the fact that he may never marry.

Adam ate his breakfast in silence while re-reading the story of Lancelot and Guinevere, and was able to make it through a considerable part of the novel before Cogsworth was practically shoving out the door to greet his relatives.

As Adam excited the large front doors of the house, he saw that the staff was already lined up to the left of him. Some looked positively bored, while others wore no readable expression. But one maid, a maid whom Adam had never seen before, had a sense of wonderment and nervousness about her.

Mrs. Potts had told Adam they were hiring a new maid after one of them had found another job as a secretary. Elinor? Anna? He couldn't remember her name. He'd been taken aback when the news of the maid's desire to leave service had been expressed to him, though Mrs. Potts was quite insistent about letting her leave if she wanted to, and not making it difficult for the girl. Of course, Adam had no way of making her stay. The days of serfdom was generations behind him, after all.

Just as Adam had enough of waiting, five motors pulled into the house's grounds and up the driveway. The motors stopped just before Theron's front entrance, and the footmen rushes to unload the belongings from the last two, while the chauffeurs opened the doors of the first three.

Adam tried to hide his grimace as his relatives exited the motors. He wanted the visit to be over already. He already planned to spend most of the time either in the solace of the library or in his room, reading whatever he could get his hands on, but he knew Cogsworth would find some way to make him socialize eventually.

"Adam, dear, how are you?" The first to greet him was his aunt Margaret, the Marchioness of Brankford. He knew she didn't really care about his wellbeing – at every other family gathering the only topic she talked about were his prospects, how Theron is holding up, and if they had to sell anything else after the Titanic. Adam always had three short responses for her: fine, fine, and no. He would make an effort to avoid conversation with her at all costs.

"Fine, Aunt Margaret," Adam replied in a rather dull tone. Her husband came around from the other side of the motor, lighting a cigar. The Marquess of Brankford as a tall, stiff man who took great interest in hunting and cigars; two other topics Adam had no interest in discussing.

Their three children exited the motor next; the two sons, Alexander and Edward, looking as bored as Adam was feeling. At least they had that in common. The daughter, Theresa, however, looked on at Theron with a much more enthusiastic expression than her brothers. He didn't know why – the Brankford's own family home was larger than Theron (though Adam hated to admit it), and it was by the ocean. Just thinking of it made him long for the days when he could freely travel from coast to coast, without worrying about how much money he was spending.

"There's tea in the library," Cogsworth announced as the rest of his relatives spilled into Theron's entrance while the maids and footman scurried to carry their belongings in and up to their appropriate rooms. His third aunt, Lyra, guided her two young children into the house without so much as a glance towards Adam. Her husband, the Viscount Sutton, however did stop to give him a firm handshake. His second aunt, Anna, and her husband seemed rather exhausted from the journey, but that didn't stop her from giving a stream of orders to her lady's maid. Adam tried to repress a chuckle as he watched the maid try to push down her own annoyance. The poor girl was probably used to it.

Only their eldest daughter, Elizabeth, stopped to greet Adam while the rest of her family entered Theron.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, taking off her gloves. If Adam were being truthful to himself, he didn't know if he could give a straight answer to his cousin. For five months he'd been stuck practically in solitary confinement, cut off from his previous way of life. He couldn't keep correspondence with Ned because he felt too ashamed, and he resisted the countless advances of the women his father invited to Theron. Adam was in a rut, neither moving forward nor backward.

"I'm holding up," was all Adam said, trying not to think about how many months, perhaps years, he would spend stuck at Theron.

Elizabeth offered him a sympathetic smile. "Well, you can always write to me, you know."

"Elizabeth!" A voice called from the parlour, prompting his cousin to rush into the entrance. Out of all his cousins, Adam had always been closest with Elizabeth. Before his mother had passed, she and Aunt Anna had been very close friends, so they were always making trips to London to see them, or Anna and Sir Frederick would travel to Kent to spend time in the country.

Adam and Elizabeth would always play together, or spend hours in the library readings stories to each other.

But that had all come to an end when Adam's mother died. After the funeral, the trips became sparser and sparser until they stopped completely.

There seemed to be a whirlwind of movement around him now that his relatives had entered the house. Maids and footmen quickly made trips back and forth from the driveway, moving all the luggage from the motors. The uniforms and livery blended into one, but Adam couldn't help but notice the young maid with light brown hair, a few strands peeking out from her bonnet. She'd been the one that had looked on at his relatives both with nervousness and wonderment; clearly the look of someone new to service. But now, as she carried cases two at a time, she looked as if she'd been at Theron for years.

Adam realized his gaze upon the girl had lingered too long, and begrudgingly entered the house.

"This is the last one," Lumiere said as he handed the large hat box to Belle.

"They don't travel light, Mr. Adam's relatives," Belle commented, adjusting her grip on the box to make sure it wouldn't slip from her fingers. She didn't even want to imagine the trouble she'd land herself in if she ruined one of ladies' hats.

"Not a chance," Lumiere replied.

Her heart was still racing from the moment she stepped in line with the other housemaids in front of the estate, nervously anticipating the arrival of Mr. Adam's relatives. At first, she didn't know why was feeling so nervous, they were just people, after all. People whom she wouldn't likely interact with for the duration of their stay. But even so, there was something so different about them; the way they carried themselves.

While they had been waiting on the driveway, Belle had caught a short glimpse of her employer. His blonde hair had shone in the sun, and he wore a look of disdain on his face. She hadn't gotten a good look at the young man because she'd been standing at the very far end of the line, and she was sure that Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts would not appreciate it if she craned her neck to gaze at the man.

Belle walked alongside Plumette as they carried the ladies' belongings through the servants' passages to their respective rooms while Lumiere and the other footmen were busy showing the arriving valets to their lords' rooms.

After making the rounds with Plumette to make sure the proper belongings were in the proper rooms, they descended to the servants' hall which was seemed to be filled to capacity with the visiting staff. Each family had brought at least one lady's maid and a valet, though Lord Brankford had brought two: one for himself and the other for his two sons.

Before Belle and Plumette could sit down to have a cup of tea, Mrs. Potts approached the girls in a fluster.

"Lady Anna is requesting another maid for her younger daughter," she said in an annoyed tone. Even though Belle had been at Theron for less than a week, she knew Mrs. Potts hated any sudden and unexpected change.

"I can look after both Miss Elizabeth and Miss Ada," Plumette said in a much more enthusiastic tone.

Mrs. Potts shook her head. "She wants two separate maids, though heaven knows why. Belle, dear, would you be willing to take care of Miss Ada? Plumette would be able to help you."

"Of course," Belle replied. Mrs. Potts signed in relief. "Good, that's one issue taken care of. Make sure the drawing room is ready before the dressing gong."

"Yes, Mrs. Potts," the maids said in unison and finally took their seats at the table.

"I shouldn't worry about taking care of Miss Ada," Plumette said, stirring a few sugar cubes into her tea cup. "I'll be there with you to show you have to manage everything. It's easy once you get the hang of it, and once you know your mistress."

Belle smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much, Plumette."

As Chappeau tightened the white bowtie around his collar, Adam imagined he was dining with only himself, and wouldn't have to suffer through the tedious conversations of his relatives that surely awaited him.

Tea in the library had been something he could excuse himself from after a short while, but with a large dinner, there was no where he could escape to.

The dressing gong had rung three-quarters of an hour ago, and Adam was fairly certain the rest of his relatives were already in the drawing room waiting for him to come down. Adam, of course, wanted to wait until the last possible minute to do so.

"I think you're ready, sir," Chappeau informed him. Adam gazed at his reflection in the long mirror. Though he was wearing the same white tie suit he always wore for dinner, he felt different. He longer felt like the man who'd gone to socialite parties or gambled away all his money.

In an attempt to delay the dinner even further, Adam gazed at his cufflinks. "Change them," he said simply, sticking out his right wrist towards the valet. Though Chappeau tried to hide it, Adam heard the slightest groan from him as he walked over to retrieve a new set of cufflinks from a glass display box.

"You know you're only making things worse by delaying, sir," the valet said as he unfastened Adam's cufflinks to replace them with the new set. "You'll only make them resent you."

"They already resent me," Adam replied.

"Not all of them."

"Enough of them do to warrant a delay."

Once the new set of cufflinks was fastened, Adam gazed at his reflection once again. "Is there any excuse I could make to get out of this?" Though he felt desperate, his voice showed no signs of it.

"I'm afraid not, sir," the valet replied, folding his hands behind his back. Adam sighed. "Well, into battle, then," he said as he headed down to the drawing room.

Cogsworth opened the door for him, and the relief shown on his relative's faces was palpable.

"Heavens, Adam, we thought we might have to go in without you," Aunt Anna said, her tone most displeasing.

"Do you always keep your guests waiting this long, or have we received special treatment?" Aunt Margaret snapped, standing from the sofa she had been sitting on.

Thankfully, the door opened and Cogsworth saved him from replying by announcing that dinner was ready. The large group entered the grand dining room and sat themselves around the long table, which was decorated with fresh flowers from Theron's gardens.

Adam remained quiet for most of the dinner, only giving short responses to his relative's questions. Usually, once one received an answer as short of Adam's they would make conversation with a more willing participant.

Lord Brankford was talking with Sir Frederick about some such trip to India, while his elder cousins Alexander and Edward were conversing about tomorrow's hunt; an event Adam would take care to avoid. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their own conversations, and content with ignoring him.

But Adam knew it wouldn't last long.

While the main course was being served, Margaret brought up a topic Adam had so far been spared.

"No engagement announcements, Adam?" She asked as she served herself some chicken from Lumiere's tray.

"No, Aunt Margaret," Adam replied, wishing he could transport himself away from the dining room.

"Such a shame. It must get so lonely here all alone."

"I read a lot," he said, letting a bitter tone seep into his words. Aunt Margaret paused for a while, and Adam thought she had put the topic to rest until she opened her mouth again.

"Well, you must be able to court a lady if even Theresa can find a fiancé," she said, earning a cross look from her daughter across the table.

"Mother, please," Theresa said, exasperated.

Margaret shrugged. "Well, after three Seasons I was starting to think you'd abandoned the idea of marriage altogether."

"These things take time, Aunt Margaret," Elizabeth spoke up. "You can't just will love to happen."

Adam let out the slightest sigh of praise under his breath. It was a seldom thing to see someone defend him. But perhaps it wasn't him she was defending, but love.

"Oh, no I quite agree with Mama," his cousin Edward spoke up. "Love isn't essential to a relationship, especially for people like us."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the statement. "My God, Edward, we are living in the twentieth century if I recall correctly–"

"You've been reading too many novels, Elizabeth. Better to arrange a marriage quickly and let love come after," Margaret commented. Adam clenched his silverware tighter in his hands.

"My mother had been in an arranged marriage, and look how well that turned out," Adam's temper got the better of him as he practically shouted the words across the table. The dining room fell terribly quiet.

Aunt Margaret glared at him, and didn't look at all like she regretted her words. With a huff of frustration, Adam stood from the table a quickly excused himself from the room.

"Sir!" Lumiere said in exasperation as he passed him in the hall carrying in the next course.

"I've elected to take dinner in my room," Adam said as he climbed up the stairs for some solitude. His relatives could bloody well entertain themselves. They seemed to be doing a marvelous job already.

As Belle gathered the cleaning equipment from the small closet in the servants' hall the next morning, her mind was still reeling with the gossip exchanged the night before.

In between serving the main course and the dessert, Lumiere had told both she and Plumette the dramatic events of the night.

"He just stormed out," the footman had said as he waited for the kitchen maids to be done plating the dish on his tray. "Just left?" Plumette asked, more than a little shocked. Lumiere nodded. "I don't know what was said in the dining room, but Mr. Adam sure didn't like it."

"Perhaps Mr. Adam was just tired," Belle suggested. "I know I would if I had that many relatives staying over."

"Lumiere! Hurry up, or the mousse will go runny!" The cook, a small woman with a big temper, shouted at the footman. Lumiere nodded and picked up the tray but before he could leave the kitchen Cogsworth stepped in.

"What happened in there?" The footman asked very eagerly. The butler let out a frustrated grunt. "All I will say on the matter was that Lady Brankford made some choicest remarks that offended Mr. Adam. Now get back up there."

Lumiere gave a small smile to Plumette before going back out into the fray.

Belle shook off the memories as she entered Theron's main parlour. Despite the long and tiresome hours Belle knew were ahead of her, she was excited to be working in the Theron's library. For the past week, she'd only seen it through open doors and never in all its full glory. But that afternoon, while Mr. Adam and his family enjoyed themselves on the hunt, she and Plumette were put in charge of cleaning it before they got back.

Her friend was caught up with other duties at present – one of Lady Sutton's many dresses required mending – and Belle offered to start on the library and allow her to join after. Belle opened the library's large oak door as quietly as she could even with a broom under her arm, and a bucket containing rags, dusters, and polish. But as she stepped into the expansive room, she could have dropped everything in her excitement. Never before had been seen, or better yet experienced such a marvelous display of literature.

Theron Hall's library was two storeys tall, with wall-to-wall shelves containing more books than she'd ever seen in her life. Each wall contained a sliding ladder so one could easily reach the top shelves, and on the second floor there was a gallery open to below, with even more shelves. There were a few large wooden tables with more books sprawled across, some with maps or atlases open displaying the continents of Europe and Asia. The room was brightly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the perfect green grounds at the front of the house, and from the ceilings hung a number of electric crystal chandeliers. Further in, a massive fireplace stood with an equally massive portrait above it. The man sitting in the portrait appeared to be tall, with a stern face, and the same blonde hair as Mr. Adam's. A Savoy ancestor, most likely.

Belle set her materials by the wall beside the fireplace, when she heard rustling from the far corner. Nervously, she peeked over, and saw Mr. Adam Savoy lounging on a sofa beneath of the windows, clearly deeply engrossed in the book he was reading. It was the first time she'd seen Mr. Adam in such a way, peaceful, calm. To her, the young man in front of her didn't resemble the gambling, careless playboy she'd heard about.

Trying to turn back unnoticed, her arm went out a bit too far and knocked over the broom, making a loud thump against the wooden flooring. Belle picked up the broom as quickly as she could, first cursing herself for letting it happen and then praying it hadn't left a mark on the floor. She didn't have much time to check, because Mr. Adam noticed the commotion and quickly looked up from his book, gazing straight at her. Belle cursed herself again for attracting attention. Mrs. Potts had said it was the last thing she should do.

"I thought I said I didn't want to be disturbed," he said in a frustrated tone.

She felt heat rise in her cheeks and forehead and Mr. Adam continued to gaze at her, with the smallest smile creeping up onto his lips.

It felt like an eternity under his gaze, and even though everything in her body told her not to, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, trying not to let her voice shake. "I was told by Mrs. Potts to clean the library before the guests finish the hunt." As she spoke, her voice became stronger and steadier. "I wasn't told that you would be here so I assumed you would be with them."

Mr. Adam's eye brow raised, clearly taken aback by her fortitude. He considered her for a moment, then gazed out the window. Though he was trying to hide it, Belle could see his expression soften ever so slightly in the window's reflection.

"I was never one for the hunt. Never a good shot. Father teases me mercilessly for it, the bastard that he is. But did he make an effort to instruct me? No. He got in a rage and the refuse to stand near me out of fear one of my bullets would hit him instead of the bird. More than once I wished his fear would come true."

Belle was shocked by her employer's confessions, breathing a little harder and quicker. Mr. Adam quickly realised his gravity of his words as well with a slight look of shock. Still, his composure remained calm as ever, and his words didn't falter. Setting down his book beside him, he continued to gaze out into the vast landscape surrounding Theron. He didn't dare look at her.

"I should not have said those things," he breathed. "Not in the presence of-"

"I won't betray your trust, sir," Belle replied. Mr. Adam's lips curved upward into the smallest, yet grateful smile, making Belle smile in return. He nodded and picked up his book from the sofa. "I'll leave you to it," he said, and swiftly exited the library. Belle watched him go, and when he disappeared beyond the wooden door she let out a breath and found herself leaning against the edge of the fireplace.

Belle was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn't hear Plumette enter until she was practically shaking her into the present.

"My, what's gotten into you?" Plumette asked.

Belle shook her head in an attempt to clear her thought. "I um… I…" she couldn't help but smile at recent memories. "Mr. Adam was here. He left a few moments ago."

"I didn't see him in the halls."

Heavens, how long had Belle in idle for? "We talked… for a bit."

Plumette's eyebrows raised. "You talked? You and Mr. Adam?"

"Only for a moment. And I talked is more of an overstatement. He gazed out the window and spoke while I listened."

"You're practically a lady, now," Plumette laughed. "Now help set up the ladder so we can dust the chandeliers and you can tell me all about your encounter."

Belle and Plumette talked until Mrs. Potts entered the library to shoo them out and let the other girls get the room ready for the afternoon tea. It hadn't seemed like they'd conversed for very long, but Belle was still curious about her encounter with Mr. Adam. She hadn't told Plumette everything, of course; only that he'd been deep in a book and wouldn't have noticed Belle were it not for her own nervousness.

She could tell that Mr. Adam tried to put on his cold front, this shield to hide all emotions. She didn't know why she felt this way about a man whom she'd never met, a man so high above her own station. Never mind the impropriety of his scandalous reputation. It would not do her any good to have any further encounters such as this with Mr. Adam, especially not in Cogsworth's eyes.

When the dressing gong rang, Belle and Plumette went their separate ways. After the previous night, Belle was comfortable with helping Miss Ada while Plumette got started on Lady Theresa.

"How was the hunt today, my lady?" Plumette asked as she laid out the young woman's evening dress. Normally, the maid would wait for her mistress to speak to her first, but she always took care of Lady Theresa on the few occasions she stayed at Theron, so they were on friendly terms – that is, if her mother wasn't present. Plumette fancied herself Lady Thersa's unofficial Theron lady's maid.

"Wonderful," Lady Theresa smiled, and turned her back to the maid so she could start getting her out of her dress. "The boys performed spectacularly. Though, I wasn't surprised at the absence of Mr. Adam at both breakfast and the hunt. Mother can be so horrid sometimes."

Plumette tried not to react to the lady's words, even if she agreed with them. She was on friendly terms with Lady Theresa – but not that friendly. And besides, if Cogsworth heard she'd agreed to such disagreeable words about a guest he'd never let her hear the end of it.

"Now what is all this about?"

Both Plumette and Lady Theresa turned with a jolt towards the door. Lady Brankford stepped into the room, already dressed, with a curious look on her face. From her expression, it seemed as if she though they had been plotting some sort of scheme just now.

"Just talking about the hunt today, Mama," Lady Theresa cleared her throat and Plumette finished unlacing the girl's dress. She stepped out of the fabric, and the maid folded it neatly and laid it on the bed. Then, she brought the evening dress around and allowed Lady Theresa to step into it.

It was a beautiful gown, grey with sheer chiffon sleeves and a Victorian-style v-shaped neckline. To say Plumette was not envious of the lady's high society fashion would be a lie. From time to time, she was guilty of imagining herself in one of these dresses, dancing in the parlour of Theron with Lumiere.

"Edward and Alexander did very well, don't you think?" Lady Theresa added. "And little Jonathan had taken a shine to that pony, how adorable."

"Hmm," Lady Brankford agreed, however unenthusiastically, as she sat down on the bed. "It all seems odd to me."

"What does?" Lady Theresa asked.

"That my brother should force Adam to marry to succeed him when there's a solution staring him in the face."

Even though Plumette was lacing the dress up from behind, she could tell that Lady Theresa rolled her eyes as she put her hands on her hips. "That's tight enough, thank you," she whispered to the maid as she finished the lacing.

"Mama, not this again, not now. You already made him so upset last night." Lady Theresa moved across the room to sit at the vanity table. Plumette promptly started to brush the girl's long auburn hair and pin it up.

"I'm serious, Theresa," Lady Brankford's tone became harsher.

"And Uncle Charles is serious as well, Mama."

"He can't be serious. Not with something as big as this. If he at least made Edward his heir we could keep Theron and the earldom in the family."

"But this accountant… he is family. Technically," Lady Theresa let out a sigh of exasperation. Plumette tried her best not to react to the conversation she was witness, but was finding it very difficult. The hair pins she was holding were practically falling out of her hands. How could they be speaking of replacing Mr. Adam as heir to Theron with Mr. Edward? Surely even His Lordship would not agree to that.

"Not to me," Lady Brankford said sharply.

Plumette dropped a few of the hair pins on the floor, snapping her from her idle state of worry. "Sorry, my lady," she mumbled as she bent down to pick them up.

"Are you alright?" Lady Theresa asked, craning her neck to look at the maid.

"Yes," Plumette cleared her throat. "I was just distracted for a moment, won't happen again."

It was then Lady Brankford seemed to care about her presence in the room. "I trust you won't betray our confidence," she said. Plumette could sense a threat hidden somewhere in those words.

"No, Your Ladyship," she replied, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"Good," Lady Brankford said. "I should hate to think a sweet girl like you would spread such… unpleasant gossip about a guest."

Plumette didn't say anything, only swallowed hard.

"Now, I think it's time we go down. I should hate to keep people waiting, unlike other members of his family."

Lady Theresa muttered a short "thank you" to Plumette before going down with her mother, leaving the housemaid feeling completely alone.