A/N, Disclaimer: the usual stuff. You still don't know it by heart? So you haven't read the former chapters, eh? Shame upon you! Hurry, go and read'em! *g* And then review please! ::smiles pleadingly::

Enjoy.

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*Maureen was highly confused. She still couldn't understand how fast this all had happened. One moment she was dashing away from Pete and the next moment she was made the new assistant of this friendly stranger. She had practically been running into a new life.

And now she walked along the busy streets having the man's arm around her shoulders. It was a strangely comfortable feeling. Strangely because it had taken 2 months to endure Jane's hearty hugs without stiffening or any other uncomfortable feelings. And now she felt as if the arm should rest on her shoulder forever. She enjoyed the warm feeling.

He led Maureen gently through the lanes. And she followed willingly. This way should never end. Again he had helped her greatly and probably saved her life. He seemed really to care for her although he didn't know her. That was a wonderful feeling. How could one person alone be so caring? So human? She felt highly protected. She could feel Pete's eyes and feet following them but he meant no harm at the moment. As long as she was together with the man who had rescued her - Geoffrey whatever-his-last-name- was.

What would be awaiting her? Would he really hire her as his assistant? It would mean wasting much time teaching her the letters. Or would he simply bring her to the guards of the city? But then he could have let Pete laying hands on her. Would have been easier.

What would her future work look like?

And why did she met the man again? Was it fate? London was a big city - you didn't meet twice very often when you didn't happen to live door-by-door.

Many thoughts were spinning through Maureen's head, so she barely noticed anything around her. Even not that Geoffrey observed her intently.*

~Geoffrey was surprised how fast this all had happened. One moment he was walking along the streets thinking about where he should spend his evening and the next moment he had a new assistant. A very special one - Ryan Pickle, the boy he had almost expected to never see again.

He watched him closely from head to toe. He wore "new" (which meant: different from the first time thy met) non-peasant clothes, still much too large for him. He looked very vulnerable in these. Around his neck he wore a scarf of an undefinable colour. His curly hair hung in wet strands around his thin face. Somebody had cut the hair in quite an unprofessional way. His skin was still very pale which made the big blue bruise on his right cheekbone almost glow. Who did that to him? However on his cheeks was a slightly rosy shade from the running. It made him look adorable. What kind of thoughts was THAT? Geoffrey felt more and more confused but continued his observing. The boy still had the small pouch around his neck, carefully tucked under his shirt. He wore no shoes. His feet were muddy and scratched as were his hands. Geoffrey became more and more curious about the boy's tale.

If the man had been his uncle? Hardly to imagine. The boy was so innocent. A feeling told Geoffrey that Ryan wasn't related to this kind of people. But how was he then connected with the man who was surely following them now? Well, he had to ask Ryan later.

What Bob and his other employees would think about this famished and creased (he really needed new clothes) boy he was bringing with him? Well, at least Elana, the house maiden, would surely fancy him. She was but fourteen years old and newly crushed every two weeks. Ryan should be warned before her. Well, at least it would prevent her having a try on Geoffrey himself anymore. She was surely pretty but it was dangerous to have such young beauties in the house. At the beginning he had had to hold back himself very hard. But she was too young. He didn't want to be one of the snobby rich ones who keep mistresses who almost still were children. He heard that some even had male ones! How . he could not find a word for it. These poor children. His heart was full of pity.

Sudenly they stood before Geoffrey's house. He had barely noticed that they had been that fast.

Almost reluctantly he took his arm from Ryan's shoulder and pushed him onto the doorstep and into the house.~

*Maureen gulped very hard then entered the house. She never had been in such a house. Some of Pete and Harry's customers had lived in such houses but Maureen had never been allowed to enter it. She always had had to wait outside having to endure the displeased looks on the faces of the house- employees.

She stepped into a neat clean hall and suddenly felt very guilty about her dirty feet for she couldn't slip out of these as Geoffrey did with his boots.

Maureen jumped as suddenly a sweet and a bit high-pitched voice came from somewhere ahead the floor.

"Ah, Master Chaucer!" -Oh yes! - Chaucer had been the name!- "You're back! Good. Lunch's almost ready." the voice cried followed by a sound of a pot being heaved onto a table.

"Fine, Elana! We have a new employee. So please set the table for one more person."

"Oh!" And with that a curious head stucked out of a door at the end of the floor - obviously the kitchen. The head belonged to a young girl, around fourteen years old with a heart-shaped, reddish from cooking, face and some wet strands of brown hair peering out of a white bonnet. Hazel coloured eyes appraised Maureen, while she and Geoffrey walked on to the head. Then a wide grin spread over the face. "All right" Elana nodded and her head vanished again. When Geoffrey and Maureen stepped into the kitchen Elana was busy with fulfilling her master's wish.

There was a wooden table with two benches. On the table now lay 5 bowls and spoons. Geoffrey sat down and gestured Maureen to sit next to him.

Maureen was stunned: he ate in the kitchen with the servants!? She never had heard of a noble man (at least he presumed Geoffrey to be one) who did such a thing. Geoffrey seemed to have read her thoughts.

"I prefer eating together with my employees. It's so lonely in the dining room. The kitchen is much more comfortable! What is it, Elana?" he took his spoon and wanted to reach into the pot as Elana gave him a playful slap on his hand.

"No, ya won't! We have to wait for Bob and ol'James."

Maureen gasped. That had been cheeky! Geoffrey was her master, her lord, how could she dare speaking to him like this? She really was in trouble now!

But Geoffrey merely laughed and laid the spoon back to its place. Elana sat down, too, and openly and curiously watched Maureen. She then turned to Geoffrey with a slightly indignant look on her face.*

~"You aren't going to introduce him to me, are you?" with a guilty expression and feeling Geoff opened his mouth but was interrupted "Oh, no, don't bother!" she turned back to Maureen holding out her grubby hand "My name's Elana Russels. Call me Ela. Pleased to meet you" She had a sweet smile on her face. Geoffrey knew what that meant: Ela had found a new victim.

The boy however did not seem to be quite impressed or even taken. Rather stunned. "I.I'm R..Ryan.Ryan Pickle." Oh, yes, meeting Elana the first time could confuse a man highly. Geoffrey suppressed a nasty grin. Ela meanwhile continued her questioning.

"How old are you?"

"14"

"Fine, like me!!! We seem to have much in common." Now Geoff had to stifle a laugh. Ela graciously ignored his efforts "When's your birthday, Ryan?"

"The thirteenth of November." Geoffrey listened attentively. This had been shortly before their first meeting.

"Mine is in March. The twentieth to be correctly. Where are you from?"

"Um." -Oh, this was the first time the boy hesitated.- "From a small village in the north." That could barely be true. He had met him south of London. How could he have surrounded London without noticing? A strange lad.~

*"Oh, you don't speak like the people from the north. I'm born in London but my parents are from Corton. That's south of London." Panic crawled up in Maureen. She was lucky that at that moment two men came into the kitchen, surely Bob and James, so that Elana stopped her constant babbling and began serving.

Geoffrey shortly introduced Maureen as his new second assistant, causing Bob to listen attentively and watching intently. But he didn't ask any questions as didn't James.

The meal was rather lively. Maureen just sat and watched and listened. James (apparently the gardener) and Bob (probably the other assistant) spoke with Geoffrey as unrespectful as Ela did but not as cheeky. Maureen was stunned. They even called him Geoff once or twice. He was a strange lord.

After lunch Geoffrey turned to her.

"You have been very quiet during the meal. Don't be intimidated by their appearences. These rascals are not what they look like." he grinned.

"Hey!" James, being around 60, boomed, Bob laughed.

Maureen wasn't sure if she was expected to give a reply. She decided that yes.

"Um, all right. I.I will take it to heart, m.mylord."

Now everybody around the table laughed. Had she said something stupid?

"Heavens, I'm no Lord. Don't be misled by my clothing. It's my best Sunday- outgoing-suit."

"Oh." She simply said feeling quite ashamed before the other servants.

"Call me Geoffrey, Geoff, as you like it."

She gave him a startled look.

"Well, if you want something more formal, then do it like Ela does, call me 'Master Chaucer'. Or "The Master of Words". The Master who makes pictures dance before your eyes. Only with the might of his writing. The Master who casts a spell over everybody who listens to his almighty voice."

Maureen gave him an even more startled look, mouth open.

"Oh," he grinned knowingly "well, Master Chaucer will do, I think. No matter what I just said, you'll understand later."

Maureen nodded although she doubted that she ever would understand anything.

"So, Ryan, what about a nice calming bath? The day surely had been exciting for you. Take a bath and we will speak afterwards about everything which has to be spoken about." Geoffrey offered.

"Oh yes! A bath is a very good idea. He has soiled my whole floor with his dirty feet." Elana threw in. Maureen blushed slightly of shame but then Geoffrey gave her a look which told her not to believe Ela's anger. "I'll arrange everything, Ryan." Ela said and bustled out of the kitchen.

Geoffrey showed Maureen the whole house and assigned her a small chamber. It hadn't been in use until now but nevertheless was very clean. Maureen loved it at once. There was a small chest of drawers and a real bed! All right, the mattress was only a straw bag, too, but it lay in a real wooden frame. There was a pillow and a blanket. Everywhere was a scent of lavender. And on the floor was fresh straw. That felt much better than the damp straw in her old room.

Then Elana called for her. The bath was ready. She gave Maureen a fresh towel then left the room grinning broadly. Maureen hardly noticed it. She locked the door then turned back to the tub: steaming hot water was only waiting for her. Great! The last two months she always had washed in the icy cold water of the Thames. This special bay had been their bath house.

Maureen looked around her then slowly slipped out of her clothes, unbandaged her chest (what a relieve!) and carefully stepped into the hot water. It was a wonderful feeling. What an ease. She leaned back and enjoyed the warm dazzling feeling all around her body. The winter had been and still was quite chilly, especially when you had no shoes. She had woollen socks but she didn't wear them when she was on errands for Pete and Harry. For the case she would have to run. The socks hindered her from being fast.

Slowly her mind settled down. And with that memories of the day came back. Jane. Maureen had really liked her. She had been like a sister, like a mother almost. Maureen had so longed for a mother. Jane had been her angel. And now she was dead. And with her her unborn baby. But this time it wasn't to blame on Maureen. She was quite sure. It all had been Pete's fault. Why couldn't he just love the idea of becoming father? He was evil - and mad! Maureen had somehow disliked him all the time although he had given her work for which she should have been grateful. But Pete had treated Jane very bad. Jane hadn't deserved such a treatment. Maureen hated him for that. Jane. She longed to see her kind face and hear her soft voice only once again. Pete had said it all had been Maureen's fault. This wasn't true. Or was it? Had she caused the death of her beloved friend? How?

Maureen softly began to cry.*

~*~

How was that?

A/N: I know, Chaucer had been married. Finally his wife had been Philippa Paon de Roet, the sister of Katherine Swynford the third wife of the Duke of Lancaster (hey - I know something historical! Good, eh? Hope I didn't say anything wrong.). He also had had 3 children with his wife. But in my story he is single. Suits better I think. And how could I make a romance growing when there's a wife waiting at home? It would make Chaucer look like an adultering bastard - a thing I surely don't want! *g*