Author's Note: Hello lovely readers! I'm quite excited to have this chapter up in a good time. Thank you for your lovely reviews, they're a pleasure! And as always, thank you for your support, follows, and favourites.

Enjoy!

Kent

April 1913

Lumiere and Plumette's letter arrived during breakfast, on an unseasonably cold day. Down in the servants' hall, there was still frost clinging to the edges of the glass windows. The last remnants of a long winter finally melting away.

The cold months had become all too long and all too repetitive for Belle, who'd spent them completely focused on her work, both at the estate and for her future endeavors. In the weeks that followed her conversation with Mr. Adam, she realized she couldn't stay at Theron much longer – she couldn't work around a constant what if – she couldn't let herself give in to the possibility of pursuing it.

Thankfully, Mrs. Potts had been understanding when Belle had asked for her to change her routine to leave the library out of it, however much pain in brought Belle to not work in a room filled with books. And when Lumiere and Plumette had announced their intentions to marry, it thankfully brought a healthy distraction. Since their announcement, Mrs. Potts and Mr. Adam had practically taken it upon themselves to organize the entire wedding.

It had taken place just a week earlier, at the chapel in the village. Despite the chill, garlands of spring flowers were hung all throughout the house: up the bannisters, on the gallery, and adorning the tables. Mr. Adam had even arranged for the carriage to take Plumette from the house to the chapel. Lumiere had chosen Cogsworth as his best man, surprising the butler, and Plumette had asked Belle to be her maid of honour.

Throughout the ceremony and luncheon afterwards, Mr. Adam kept stealing the quickest of glances at her, seeming to explain so much just by the look in his eyes. But Belle never allowed herself to return those glances.

"Well go on, then," Percy insisted as he ate his porridge. The other members of staff nodded in agreement.

Cogsworth opened the letter with his letter opener and unfolded the parchment. "'Greetings from London,'" he began in his deep, but cheerful voice. "'Plumette and I have been greatly enjoying our time in the city. Please tell Mr. Adam that we are ever so grateful for his generosity. We've mainly spent our evening dining in pubs and walking along the Thames – Tower Bridge is a wonder to behold. We were even lucky enough to witness the changing of the guard yesterday.

"'We miss you all very much, and look forward to telling you of our adventures soon.' Signed, Mr. and Mrs. Valois."

"Isn't that nice," Mrs. Potts said. "You better show that letter to Mr. Adam, he'd appreciate it."

"I shall bring it to him when he takes his breakfast," Cogsworth agreed.

The first bell went off with a soft ding.

"Speaking of which…" Jasper said, folding up the morning paper.

"Alright everyone, the day's begun." Cogsworth stood from the table, and the rest of the staff followed suit. Wooden chairs scraped against the cold stone floor and soon the table was cleared.

Belle and her fellow housemaid, Ellen, grabbed their supplies and prepared and made the trip up the three flights of stairs to the guest rooms. Cleaning them was a more tedious task than cleaning the library, but at least she had Ellen to keep her company.

Ellen had told her she'd been working at the house since she was no more than a girl. A scullery maid, is what she'd been hired as, and now always seemed to mention how much better it was to clean the grand rooms upstairs than the kitchens below.

They had made it up the stairs and to the first room when Belle realized she'd forgotten the dust bin back down in the supply closet.

"I can go get it," Ellen offered, but Belle shook her head.

"I'd be grateful for the walk," she replied before leaving the room.

Though she was preparing to leave Theron eventually, Belle still loved walking in its splendor, and cherished the moments when she was in its halls (even when carrying cleaning supplies).

"Good morning, Belle."

The voice made her stop in her tracks. She almost ignored him and continued into the servants' passage right then and there, but instead looked up at her employer.

He smiled hopefully at her, his eyes shining from the sun spilling in through the windows.

"Good morning, sir," she said simply, her lips in a thin line. She was careful not to betray any emotion.

"If you ever want to borrow any more books, please–"

"I'm afraid I must get back to my work." She gave him a strained smiled. "But thank you."

Adam nodded thoughtfully, and watched as she exited the gallery down into the servants' passage. On the other side of the door, Belle leaned against the staircase's wooden railing. That was the first time they'd spoken since the servants' ball – and it hurt all the same.

But Belle forced herself to think rationally, remembering that awful letter he'd received from his father. Lest he marry a woman with good prospects, the estate and fortune would go to his cousin. And not to mention the fact that her own reputation and career prospects were at stake. She wanted to travel, to see the libraries of universities on the continent, and she couldn't very well do that if she had no job and no money to pay for it.

"Are you alright?" Jasper asked, ascending the staircase towards her.

"Yes," Belle replied, standing straighter. "I think I might just need a glass of water."

"Perhaps you should have a lie down."

"It's fine, by thank you for your concern." She smiled and continued down the stairs.

The servants' hall was cleared and quiet, as it usually was this time of day. It was in the kitchens where the footmen congregated to take dishes up to the breakfast room. Belle could hear Mrs. Oliver's shouting at some poor scullery maid when she reached the supply closet. Jasper and Percy were good footmen, but the absence of Lumiere was starting to take its toll.

"Oh, Belle, I'm glad I caught you."

Belle whirled around to see Mrs. Potts approaching her with a letter. "This came with this morning's post, it's from your father."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," Belle smiled gratefully and took the letter. Once the housekeeper was out of sight, she opened it and scanned its contents.

My dearest Belle –

I just picked up your typewriter from the post office and it's sitting on the dinner table. I haven't even bothered to move it from there because it's so heavy. I have much faith that this investment will pay off. Please feel free to come anytime and test it out.

Love,

Your father.

Adam must have been standing in the hall for longer than he thought, because Cogsworth came out from the breakfast room and cleared his throat rather loudly to bring him back to reality. The bulter gave him a knowing look Adam was all too familiar with, and he rushed down the stairs to avoid his temper flaring.

It seemed so odd, to be at such a distance from Belle after spending those few precious months together – or, as together as an employer and maid could be. He knew she only wanted the best for him, and at times he would try and convince himself that he could leave the life of a peer behind him. But in reality, he knew he wasn't cut out for a middle-class life.

At night, Adam would lay awake trying to think of every possible scenario in which he and Belle could live happily together – but every one of them ended in his father's wrath and nothing that wouldn't affect Belle's position at Theron.

That morning, Adam picked measly at his breakfast – tea, eggs, toast, and fruit preserves; lately he couldn't stomach the extravagance Mrs. Oliver's cooking had to offer – and read the paper. One of the main articles was regarding the anniversary of the Titanic, which also happened to be the day his father sent him back to Theron.

Had it already been a year since he'd seen London? Those first months of his banishment (as he liked to call it) had been ones of misery. He could imagine the staff were just as displeased at his arrival. His father, of course, elected to keep the estate in pristine condition, even when they hadn't been living there for some time. He was willing to spend so much money for the upkeep of the estate, but wouldn't even give so much as another pound to help pay off Adam's spending habits.

Adam remembered when he had first arrived at Theron last year – on a day not unlike this one. The air was chilly, and the staff had been lined up outside the front doors. At first, he could barely stand to look at the house. Since his mother had passed, he'd been at the house on only a few occasions, all of which he'd rather forget. He could still see his mother at the front door, beckoning him inside. He could still see her through the second storey window, reading her favourite book. He could see her in every room of every floor, and for the first time, Adam felt ashamed of the man he had become.

The butler and housekeeper had greeted him with a friendly, hopeful smile, probably thinking he would somehow be the boy they had helped raise a lifetime ago. But they were wrong. Adam had hardly given them a second glance. In his grief and anger, he'd stormed up the staircase and shut himself in his room. It took two days and Mrs. Potts's insistence for him to finally enter back into the world.

"The post, sir," Cogsworth said.

Adam blinked, and then thanked the butler who placed a silver tray with a few letters and a letter opener next to his glass.

"Lumiere and Plumette sent a letter from London," Cogsworth smiled. "The staff were very pleased by it."

"I'm glad they're enjoying it. It was the least I could do for them." Adam read the letter form the newlyweds, reminiscing of his time in London. His experience had been much different than that of his staff, but he couldn't help but remember Ned, his only true friend.

Adam didn't even know if that was true anymore.

The second letter on the tray was from his aunt, Anna, and her husband Sir Frederick. It seemed like they were to be embarking on a trip to Asia for a few weeks, and his cousins Elizabeth and Ada were to stay at Theron during that period.

Adam sighed and leaned back against his chair. If for nothing else, he was grateful it was Cousin Elizabeth and Cousin Ada. It could be worse.

It could have been her aunt Margaret asking her children to stay.

Despite all the preparations being made for Miss Elizabeth and Miss Ada's arrival the next day, Belle found some time to walk down to the village to visit her father. She had managed to find Mrs. Potts at a good hour, and the housekeeper had allowed her to take the afternoon off.

The weather had warmed a bit, and her father was outside in the gardens, tending to the vegetables. He wrapped her in an embrace, and they both entered the cottage where he already had a pot of tea brewing.

The new typewriter was still on the kitchen table, taking up a little less than half of its room. Belle took a few moments to marvel at the machine, and now ached to complete her first typing course.

"How had it been? Since…" Her father asked while sipping his tea.

In truth, Belle didn't really know. It certainly hadn't been better, but at the same time enjoyed the company of the staff at Theron. They had become her only true friends.

"It's been different," were the words Belle settled on. "Busy, too, what with the wedding and Miss Elizabeth and Miss Ada visiting tomorrow. But I know I can't stay there, which is why I'm so grateful you agreed to have this brought here." She gestured to the typewriter. "Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts would have a fit if they saw it, and I don't want the other staff to know I'm taking courses. At least not yet."

Her father nodded, but still wore a look of uncertainty. "And you're completely sure about this?"

"I am, Papa," Belle smiled. "Working at Theron is such a joy, but I think now it's time to move on."

"I just want to make sure you're leaving for the right reasons," he sighed. "That you're not rushing out of a stable job because of your feelings for Lord Villeneuve's son."

"I understand your concerns, Papa, I really do. But I know myself. I know I can't continue to work at Theron when I have to keep stopping myself from dreaming about all the possibilities in which Mr. Adam and I could be together, especially when he'll eventually be forced to marry another woman. It's too much."

It was already April, and Mr. Adam had received that horrid letter in November. Half the year had passed and he'd made no indication of honouring his Lordship's threat. He'd told her he would leave his life behind for her – but at what cost would that come? Belle didn't want to be the reason for him leaving his friends, and everything he'd ever known behind. If she were in his position, he would tell her the same.

"I know," her father finally responded. "But please take your time, and know I'm always here for you."

"Thank you, Papa." She smiled softly, taking a sip of her tea. "And don't worry. The courses should take a few weeks, and they'll need to be sent by post. And since I have the afternoon off, I thought I could start one right away."

"Of course," he laughed. "But you'll need to help me move it to the study."

After tea, Belle and her father carefully moved the heavy typewriter from the kitchen to the small study desk in the corner of the cottage. Thankfully, the desk itself wasn't used all that often, as her father preferred to use the upright easel for his paintings, and the large workbench in the basement for his tinkering. There were a few new paintings, mostly of the gardens or the village, but one caught her attention.

The painting was of Tower Bridge, in London. "When did you do this?" Belle asked in astonishment.

"Earlier this month. It's for you, I know how much you want to visit the city."

"Thank you, Papa," Belle exclaimed, embracing her father. "It's truly beautiful."

"Now, you must get started on that course, or Mrs. Potts will be none too happy with you arriving back late."

Elizabeth and Ada arrived just after midday.

The single motor car rolled up the long drive way, and the chauffeur opened the doors for the two ladies. Elizabeth, carrying a book under her arm, looked delighted to be arriving. Her younger sister, on the other hand, just looked glad the trip was over.

Adam approached his cousins as the footmen and maids took away their cases. "How was the trip?"

"Perfectly alright," Elizabeth replied.

"Perfectly boring," Ada interjected, which made Elizabeth roll her eyes.

"Mama and Papa saw us off in London, but their train doesn't leave until tomorrow."

"Why don't you come in for some tea in the library?" Adam followed his two cousins into the house as the rest of the staff retreated back through the servants' entrance.

"You're certainly more chipper than when we last visited," Elizabeth noted with a smile. "Something different?"

Different was an understatement. And by all means, his circumstances were worse than the last time he hosted family.

When they entered the bright library, he almost expected Belle to be there, dusting the curtains or polishing the windows. In fact, he imagined it quite a bit, and was disappointed every time he found himself alone the spacious room. Quickly, he shook off his dangerous thoughts.

"It's one thing to host just the two of you," Adam said after settling in, taking a bite of a blueberry scone. "It's another thing entirely to host you and the rest of my father's extended family."

"I know what you mean," Elizabeth replied before gesturing for her sister to stop eating all the biscuits. "Just because Mama and Papa aren't here doesn't mean you can't eat all the biscuits," she said whispered to her sister, to which Ada made a disappointed noise.

"I think we can afford it just this once," Adam smirked, handing his young cousin another biscuit.

Elizabeth shook her head and continued. "You should count yourself lucky you didn't go over to Brankford Park for the holidays. Cousin Edward was his usual self, but poor Cousin Theresa. Her fiancé left her because of all those rumours concerning the late Mr. Holloway. And of course, Aunt Margaret is practically pushing every man with generous prospects at her."

Adam shook his head. "If Cousin Theresa's fiancé wasn't going to stay with her just because of some outlandish rumours, then it is Theresa who should count herself lucky. The bastard wouldn't have lasted long if he jumped at the first sign of trouble."

"More chipper and a sentimentalist," Elizabeth noted with a curious smile. "And who do we have to thank for this change in attitude?"

"Never you mind about it." He smiled, but beneath it he truly wondered if it had all been because of Belle. It might be a dangerous thought, especially since the devastation of a conversation they had during the servants' ball, and because sooner or later his father would no doubt find him a bride. But even in spite of it all, he couldn't imagine himself acting the way he did before he was sent to Theron.

Perhaps the conversation between him and Belle was for the best, as difficult as it was to think about. She was right about him. He didn't even know how to live a life away from the servants, the estates, and the privilege, much less be exiled into one. Still, that spark of hope remained in the back of his mind. Belle was smart, resourceful. She would be able to help him lead that life. But she was also stubborn, perhaps more stubborn than anyone he'd ever met. Belle wouldn't want to risk the possibility. She was probably right.

The cousins continued to talk until the tea pot was empty and Percy had brought them another plate of biscuits, at Ada's request. Adam found himself surprised to admit it, but he was enjoying the company of his two cousins. They weren't haughty and overly posh like Cousins Edward and Alexander, and nor did they particularly care for peer gossip like their parents did.

"And how is London?" Adam asked sometime later, when he and Elizabeth were taking a walk along the Theron grounds. Ada, of course, was off riding in the company of Theron's groom, Beckett. Elizabeth had said she hardly gets time to ride, especially in the city, and would be hard get her off the horse once the dressing gong rang.

Elizabeth shrugged at the question. "London is London. It's busy, noisy, and rainy. Mama and Papa go out to parties quite often, so in the evening it's typically just Ada and me. Though, they've been fussing more and more over my Season next year. They seem to be completely determined to find a husband for me the same year. One night, they even invited a fellow named Vincent Mayford to dinner. Dull as a brick, but he's the heir to the Earl of Langley so that's all they really care about."

"I know how you feel," Adam replied earnestly. "My father sent me a letter last November, demanding that I marry within the year lest the estate and money go… go to Cousin Edward." It pained him to say the words.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks and gave him a concerned look. "How awful, I'm so sorry."

"He needs more money for the estate, and won't accept a woman who doesn't have the right prospects. In truth, he'll just end up picking someone for me, because I certainly won't do it."

"You know, you'll always be welcome in London with us," she said.

Adam couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "And your parents won't mind the disgraced son of Villeneuve living under their roof?"

Elizabeth waved off the notion. "They'd get over it eventually. And besides, if I do get married next year there should be more than enough room at my future husband's spacious estate."

"Don't tempt me, now I'm actually considering it."

The dressing gong rang through the grounds, and they exchanged an exasperated look. "Who's the lucky one that's going to break the news to Ada?"

Though she had been brought up in the ways of high society her whole life, Miss Elizabeth Donovan wasn't one for dinner protocol.

Her father, a rather wealthy owner of a London publishing house always insisted on respecting the peer traditions. That, of course, included wearing proper dinner attire and for the ladies to go through to the drawing room before the men after the service. Elizabeth never understood why the women couldn't be privy to whatever the men were talking about over port and brandy and cigars. Even during dinner service, whenever anyone brought up even the topic of politics her father would shut the conversation down.

"We mustn't bore the ladies," he would say, and her mother would change the subject to the latest London gossip.

Elizabeth, who often tried to bring up the topic of the women's vote, rolled her eyes at her father's continuous antics.

At Theron, she expected the dinner service to be mercifully more relaxed than at her home in London, but it seemed they were to dress the part. However, she expected she would be able to freely speak about politics, and no doubt the after-dinner service would not be so formal.

When Elizabeth entered her room after spending close to ten minutes bargaining with Ada, a maid was already waiting inside. She jumped upon seeing the woman, not expecting it.

"I didn't mean to startle you, miss," the maid said sincerely.

"No, no," she replied. "It's perfectly alright. I'm sorry for being late, my sister can be quite difficult." She started to undress, and the maid came over to help. "Is Plumette not here?" She asked after a moment. "I know she usually acts as my lady's maid when we're over."

"She's actually just gotten married, she's away on honeymoon."

"Oh, how wonderful for her."

"My name's Belle, miss. I shall be taking care of you for your stay."

After getting into a light grey gown, she took a seat at the vanity where Belle started to pin her hair up.

"I could swear I've seen you before, Belle."

"I actually attended to your sister when you were last here."

Elizabeth smiled brightly. "Ah yes, of course! She talked quite a bit about you."

"All good things, I hope," Belle replied as she put another pin in Elizabeth's hair.

"Terribly good." She was just about to go downstairs to the drawing room before she spoke again. "Belle, I would like to request a favour of you." She gauged the maid's reaction, but it didn't seem to cause that much surprise. "This may seem forward, but I told Cousin Adam that would need to go into Canterbury a few times this week, to put together a surprise for Mama and Papa. I also said that I would like my maid to accompany me."

"Yes, of course."

"The thing is… we would really be going to a few of the women's political rallies. Mama and Papa would never let me go in London and now I have an opportunity that I wouldn't miss. You don't have to come if you're not comfortable, of course, but I would like someone there with me."

Belle considered her request for a moment, before agreeing.

"Oh, thank you, Belle!" she cried and practically hugged her. This, of course, took the maid aback. "Thank you so much," she repeated before hurrying down the stairs.

Since taking on the job at Theron, Belle had been to Canterbury only a few times, but never for something such as this.

All around her were men and women, some listening attentively to the speaker up above them, some arguing, and some hurling insults.

And yet, there was such an excitement to it.

Belle had been nervous during the car ride into the city, but it had all melted away when they were immersed in the political rhetoric of the crowd. She'd read a few books on politics from the Theron library, but nothing compared to her surroundings now. The excitement was almost contagious, weaving its way through her veins like blood.

Beside her, Miss Elizabeth was completely engrossed in the words of the speaker, and when the rally concluded, she went on and on about it until they pulled up into the drive.

The next rally they went to, to Belle's surprise, wasn't a rally at all but the counting of the votes for the county's local by-election. The crowds were rowdier, which made Belle nervous, but didn't seem to upset Miss. Elizabeth one bit.

"I thought I'd never be able to witness this," Miss. Elizabeth said, though her voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowds.

As the man on the wooden platform above them announced the final number of votes for the parties, those around her continued to cry and heckle. A small group cried "Votes for women! Votes for women!" Others booed and cheered as their preferred party was announced.

Despite herself, Belle found that she was clinging to Miss Elizabeth's arm, though she hardly seemed disturbed by it. Men and women were pouring into the rally space like mice fleeing a cat, many of which were none too polite about pushing their way through others. Both Belle and Miss Elizabeth were both practically knocked over on more than a few occasions.

Suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder, and Belle immediately whipped around to see to who it was.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Mr. Adam cried. Belle knew he was talking to his cousin, but he gave a meaningful glance to her as well.

"I couldn't miss this," Miss Elizabeth said, not taking her eyes off the wooden platform.

"Really? I could," he commented dryly.

"Miss Elizabeth, perhaps we should go," Belle shouted amid the rising volume. "These lot look as if they're spoiling for a fight."

"Belle's right," Mr. Adam said, trying to pull his cousin away from the crowd.

It was then that Belle noticed a group of burly men pushing their way into the crowd. They were definitely looking for a fight. One of them was heading straight for Mr. Adam.

Belle gasped, and with a racing heart, nudged her employer lightly. "Mr. Adam…"

He turned and saw the group of men she was worried about. The man approaching them was shoving others out of his way, but also leaning on a few for balance. Clearly, he had too much to drink beforehand.

"Look, we don't want trouble," Mr. Adam tried to explain.

"Oh, and what's your problem, Mr. La-di-da?" the large man grumbled.

"My problem is you," he replied before dodging a punch from the drunk man. Mr. Adam returned a punch, swinging at him at the side of his cheek. But it didn't keep the man down. As Belle was keeping Miss Elizabeth back from the fight, Mr. Adam was pushed down against the sharp edge of a wooden table.

Both women gasped, Miss Elizabeth rushing towards her cousin while Belle instinctively took an empty bottle from the table and swung at the drunk man.

Everything was moving so fast that Belle didn't see where she'd hit him, but the next thing she knew was that Miss Elizabeth was telling her to take one of Mr. Adam's arms over her shoulders and help him to their motor car.

"Putting together a surprise for your parents?" Mr. Adam said once they were in the driving away from the city.

"Where are you hurt?" Miss Elizabeth ignored his question.

Belle was in the front seat with the chauffeur, Booth, while Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Adam occupied the back.

"The arm… my ankle… and my shoulder feels ghastly," he grimaced.

"You don't suppose we could get into the house undetected?"

"And why would that be? Because you lied about your whereabouts, and put yourself, and a member of staff in danger?"

Belle blushed in the passenger's seat.

"If Mama and Papa hear about this they'll never let me out of their sights again," Miss Elizabeth cried. "And what in God's name were you doing in Canterbury anyway?"

"I was at the tailor. Finally purchasing some new clothes. And it was a good thing, too."

Belle, Mr. Adam, and Miss Elizabeth had made it halfway up the staircase before Mrs. Potts came into the foyer and spotted them.

"What on Earth–"

"It's a long story," Miss Elizabeth started.

"And I'm not seriously injured," Mr. Adam interjected.

"I think Dr. Nichols will be the judge of that," she said sternly before returning to the servants' passage.

Belle and Miss Elizabeth helped Mr. Adam to his bed, and together dressed the wound on his arm. It wasn't a deep cut, but it ran from his wrist and up his forearm.

"I'm terribly sorry about this…" Miss Elizabeth said after a while.

"It's not serious," he replied, sitting up a little straighter in his bed. "And don't worry, your parents won't hear of this from me."

She smiled wide and hugged him gently. "Oh, thank you!"

"Now, do you mind fetching me Lancelot and Guinevere from the library? It should be on the table by the settee."

She nodded and quickly left the room, closing the door behind her. Belle, who was standing at the edge of the four-poster bed felt sweat collecting on her palms.

"I should be going, Mrs. Potts will be wondering where I am," Belle said, turning to leave.

"No, please wait," Mr. Adam said, his hand outstretched.

Everything in her mind told her to continue walking, but she didn't. Instead, Belle approached the side of the bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Belle opened her mouth, but no words came out. Finally, she said, "Fine. Just a little rattled."

"It seems as if we'll always be destined to rescue each other," he commented with a smirk.

She blushed and felt heat rise to her cheeks. "That doesn't seem like a very good way to live," she said.

"Oh, I don't know. I think we could make a go of it."

If it was possible, the flush on her cheeks deepened and she looked down at her lap. "I wish you wouldn't flirt. It makes things so difficult."

She could feel herself drawing nearer to him, and he was doing the same. Against her better judgement, she didn't back away. She couldn't explain it, but everything felt right.

"I like difficult," he whispered.

Suddenly, his hand was on her cheek.

They were drawn in closer.

Their lips brushed.

The door opened with a soft click.

Belle pulled away in an instant. Thankfully, it was only Miss Elizabeth at the door. "I should…" Belle started, trying to find the words. "I should go."

That night as she lay in bed, trying to convince herself how foolish she was being, she couldn't help but replay those few moments over and over. They haunted her. They worried her, about her future, about what it meant for Mr. Adam.

But most of all, it worried her that she was falling in love with him.