Servants Series 3

by ss9

Will Lizzie's secret become public knowledge? What is so dark about William Forest's past that he tries to hide it's very existance? And what could possibly happen to Flora and Walter now to upset the careful balance attained at the end of series 2?

5. Episode 5

The morning came all too soon for the two most unlikely of drinking partners, each stirring from their slumbers with rather severe headaches. The superior of the two woke first and was quite disillusioned to discover that hangovers only grew worse with age, either that, or with an increased amount of alcohol, but at that moment, he couldn't fathom which. His thoughts soon changed from the liquor to what he could remember of the conversation between the two. This took a surprisingly short time because he didn't really need to remember, as he had never forgot, no matter how bad things had ever gotten between them (even this time) his thoughts were never very far from her. She was his constant, though not for much longer he feared, as it dawned on him that this was the day of her leaving 'party'.

This notion made him feel physically sick (even more so), as he cursed the blessed event. It had been enthusiastically promoted by Grace and Lizzie, who were determined that, if Mrs Ryan was really going to leave them, she and Kraus deserved a damned good send off. Had he known of this prior to the decision being made, Jarvis would have endeavoured to put a stop to proceedings, but as he was busy with making the unfortunate redundancies, it was Flora who had authorised the occasion. Initially she wavered over taking the decision herself, but resolved that as Jarvis had not informed her before hand who he was going to sack, and as she felt it her duty to Kraus to have his departure from Taplows marked suitably, she could not object to the maids' pleas.

Reluctantly, he flung back the bed covers, and raised himself at normal pace to begin with, but slowing down significantly after suffering the biggest head rush imaginable. He tentatively made his way over to his chair, over which he had slung his dressing gown the previous evening, or was it earlier that morning? In any case, he persisted to wrap it round him, once he'd finally found the right armholes, and leisurely strolled off down the corridor to find Johnny, as he was now craving a fine Cuban cigar. On his way he made a firm decision, reiterating what he had drunkenly slurred previously, that today would be the day in which his beloved housekeeper would return to his arms, leaving those of the 'Prussian idiot's' forever (or so he hoped).

Indeed, it was the butler's murmurings which coaxed Andrew Adams into opening his weary eyes when he just couldn't stand the ringing of Jarvis wining 'God, I love her' repeating itself over and over between his ears. He was glad that Jarvis has resolved to put an end to the whole non-sensical charade, if only for his own sake, as well as theirs. Despite his feelings of animosity towards Jarvis, he couldn't bear to see the man wallowing in self pity, as this annoyed him more than any lecture. Reaching out and grabbing his watch, he exclaimed internally 'Christ, is that the time!' In frustration he flopped his head back down onto the pillow, bringing his hands to his face, and dragging them down it. He let out an "Urgh" when stretching, but quickly managed to bring himself to get up, as if he stayed there any longer it was a sure fire thing that Will would come round to crack the whip. As he made his way down to the lower servants dining hall, he made a minor pit stop in order to guzzle down some much needed water.

On entering the dining hall, he was met with all the familiar faces, in an all too familiar blurry appearance. However, through the haze, he had noticed the absence of Susan, and was quickly filled in on her departure by those who had consoled her the previous day. Whilst he did feel a slight twinge of regret that she had been sacked, Adams would certainly not miss the rather disturbing way in which she used to stare at him as he slurped his cups of Earl Grey in the morning. His attention, along with everyone else's in the room was now seized by Grace, who took it upon herself to delegate duties for the party preparation, with her trusty first mate Lizzy standing at her side. When Will reminded them that they also had other work to do on temporarily slipping into under-butler mode. Grace, giving no consequence to the fact that he was now (if only officially) her superior, simply challenged his sense of duty to Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus, which he conceded was greater than that to the mundane chores.

After a rather lengthily discussion as they wolfed down their breakfasts, with Grace and Lizzie being the main contenders, each person around the table had been assigned their own little part to play, once they had finished their absolutely necessary housework of course. Charlotte, who rather considered her self to have been Kraus' protégé, was placed in charge of organising the food, which was quite alright with Lizzie and Grace, as they had always worked best in the kitchen when they were given orders to carry out. However, as virtual hostesses, this was not to be their sole responsibility, indeed, they insisted on decorating the room with anything they could get their hands on. George was roped into this, Grace telling him to find decorations (from god knows where he thought to himself), before reporting back to them, when they had finished helping Charlotte in the kitchen.

Fred and Joe were blessed with having to scrub and then polish the floor, as the housekeeper had commented, during her recent frenzied phase of cleaning, that it was a complete and utter disgrace. Adams was rather appropriately, if somewhat being criticised, when he was given the task of finding out some form of alcohol from 'wherever necessary', and then try to concoct the chef's homebrew, as a kind of tribute gesture to him. Initially, Adams thought of protesting at this suggestion, as he wasn't sure just how Jarvis was going to take the whole thing, but stayed quiet, as Grace didn't give him even a millisecond to refute her. All assembled were assured that Mrs Ryan's leaving present was well taken care of, as both Grace and Lizzie had spent all their spare time since the revelations, knitting a baby grow for her unborn child. With that, Grace dismissed them, reminding them that the sooner they had carried out their essential daily jobs, the sooner they could begin the preparations!

It is now late afternoon, and a group of maids had found the time to get together and create a large 'Bon Voyage Felix and Flora' banner, which Fred and Will hoisted up, and Grace and Charlotte are in the midst of making coloured paper streamers and rather amusing party hats from card, once they had rummaged through the servants quarters to see what bits and pieces they could gather. In the kitchens, cakes, jellies, colourful ice cream were being prepared, while Kraus worked silently and swiftly in the Pastry to get a number of his best pies made – one for the Earl, and the others for the party. This is one of the last times he would ever use his beloved Pastry oven, with its bundles of twigs, at Taplows again, and this brought a small tear to his eye as he created a delicate pastry bird for the top of a cherry pie made especially for Flora.

The preparations continue for a few more hours, amongst the usual whispering gossip about Susan's departure, and who may be next, while Fred and George take bets on whether Jarvis will punch Kraus' lights out again. George is quick to comment that he had been rather impressed with Jarvis' technique, so places a firm bet on him winning in another competition. Fred, a little unsure, argues that Kraus may have brushed up on his own right hook by now as he had witnessed him earlier taking out his frustration on a large bag of flour, so places a substantial bet in the chef's favour. Joe informs them both that they are wasting their money, and that he doesn't predict any more fisticuffs between the two, but Fred and George just dismiss him as being a spoil-sport.

It is now 7pm, and most of the preparations are complete, the party streamers are up and much of the food is out on the table. Grace and Lizzie admire their efforts briefly, then dash of laughing and singing to wash and to wrap Flora's presents decoratively with ribbon. Nobody had seen Flora for a couple of hours now, but because of her 'condition' and the fact that she had been working her fingers to the bone the last few days, it hadn't been surprising to anyone that she should want a lie down and to take her time packing her clothes. Anyway, the servants had been glad to have her out of the way, and Grace had been especially insistent that she knew as little as possible about the celebrations that evening. Little had been seen of Jarvis that afternoon either – he had had no wish to involve himself in such an event, so had either spent hours in his office rehashing his figures to save as many staff as possible, at the Earl's beck and call, or in his room.

He had already gone through half of his cigars by 6 o'clock, so had forced himself to stop – he had concluded that he will probably need the rest just to get him through that evening's charade, before he could build up the courage to talk to her. No, to ORDER her. Now, at 7pm in his quarters, Jarvis decides that he needs to dress in his finest, show the woman what she would be missing out on in Prussia. He had already left the letters and parcel in Kraus' room, just in case, for some terrible reason, he had failed to win her back. But this, he resolves, is most certainly not about to happen. Rising to his feet and walking over to his wardrobe, a wave of nausea engulfs him. He is not quite sure if that is because of the previous night's lingering after-effects or because he had been thinking about Flora again, but whichever it is he is determined to ignore it. Rummaging through his waistcoats, he smiles to himself as he comes across the one Flora always likes him in best - a very dark purple one covered in very finely embroidered dark green leaves. Pulling it out, he ponders over it for a second before deciding firmly that this is the one he is going to wear. This'll show her, he thinks, tossing it onto the bed and brushing down his finest dinner jacket. She will remember its significance – he wore it when she was feeling frisky after her pond fight with the dreaded Mrs Stanwick, and wore it again when they had been feeling naughty and childish in his room, before George and Grace ruined their tickling fight over the book of figures.

He paused, remembering that she had once commented to him that that waistcoat had been one of the first things that attracted her to him, symbolising his obvious good taste in clothes. This had annoyed him considerably at the time, thinking that it had been his devilish good looks and suave sophistication which first attracted her. She had merely smiled back, winking and kissing him before admitting that maybe that had had something to do with it too, even if she didn't normally go for blonds. Smiling to himself, he changes then spends time looking in the mirror to make sure that his hair is perfect – everything had to be perfect. It is his turn to play the tease, keeping her guessing all evening before finally having it out with her. Eventually, after a last once-over in the mirror, he tugs at his sleeves and waistcoat and turns to exit his room. Suddenly he pauses, turning quickly and dashing to his bedside table. How could he nearly have forgotten? Pulling open the drawer, he sits on the bed and takes out the small box containing the ring. Opening the box slowly, he stares at its sparkling features as he toys with it slightly in its felt holder. Sighing, he shuts it firmly and places it in the inside pocket of his jacket as he walks round the bed to the door

Jarvis under his breath as he opens the door: I'll make an honest woman of you yet, Flora Ryan, you mark my words.

Downstairs in the servants hall, the merriment is underway. Everyone is a little more subdued because of recent departures, and Grace least of all wants to see Mrs Ryan leave, but still the servants are determined to give her and the chef the send-off they deserve. Charlotte had made some punch, which she is serving out in large quantities, while Adams warms up on the piano and Grace and Lizzie practice a little routine they had concocted to 'My Old Man's A Chimneysweep' while getting ready for the party.

Charlotte exasperated as Grace comes up to her, hands on her hips: Where is she? It's almost eight.

Grace lowering her voice: Give her time, she'll be here. Don't worry, this won't have been for nothing……..

Grace tails off as the lower servants turn to see Jarvis standing in the doorway, obviously feeling slightly awkward since they had seen very little of him since the fight. A social setting seems to be the last thing the butler needs, concludes Grace, but before she can speak Adams pipes up

AdamsTo Jarvis, almost smug: You look very fine tonight, sir.

Jarvis walking into the room, indicating to the servants to carry on chatting: Thank you, Mr Adams.

Make the effort, make the effort, he keeps thinking as he scans the room for any sign of Mrs Ryan or Kraus. Neither appear to be there, so he beams and trots up to Charlotte, who is stood with the punch ladle in her hand

Jarvis trying to ignore her gawping and indicating to the bowl in front of her: Miss Lewis, is that punch I see before me?

Charlotte unblinking, as if she is being scolded rather than conversed with: Y…yes, Mr Jarvis, punch it is.

Jarvis notices in the corner of his eye Fred and George doubling over at the word 'punch' and muttering something about the word being ironic, before he returns his full attention to the maid

Jarvis chuckling: Well, don't just stand there, Charlotte, I'd like some punch, if you please.

This is too much for the two footmen, who laugh out loud clutching their sides, only to pipe down when Jarvis turns to them with a sour look on his face

Jarvis clutching his now full glass: And what is so funny, Mr Cosmo? Mr Matkin?

But before they can come back with some cheap retort, the room falls silent again as they all turn to see Mrs Ryan entering the room – arm in arm with Felix Kraus. Jarvis is instantly disgusted, gripping his glass so hard that he thinks he may very well crush it into tiny fragments. Flora gives the room a once-over, her face lighting up at the sight of so much effort and thoughtfulness. Grace and a few of the maids shout 'surprise!' as she pulls away from Kraus to clasp her hands together in joy

Flora beaming and turning a little pink: Oh, this is all lovely – lovely! Who did all this?

Will winking at her and jumping forward, then indicating to blushing Grace: I think you will find that it was Miss May, Mrs Ryan, along with Miss McDuff who did most of the planning. And Charlotte made a good proportion of the food.

Flora: Well, thank you so much, girls, I thought maybe a few sandwiches, I didn't expect all of this!

She walks forward, hugging Grace then kissing her cheek. The two maids then excitedly pull out their presents, which Flora opens and is obviously touched with the baby clothes. She makes no attempt to look at Jarvis, who has backed into a corner with now his second glass of punch. The night before obviously hasn't put him off the old alcohol, even if it wasn't a stiff a drink as Adams' offerings.

Kraus throwing open his arms and smiling brightly: What we need tonight is a final cheese-rolling competition! I have saved my finest cheese for the occasion!

Cheers go up from the footmen as they tackle Adams' attempt at Kraus' homebrew, which makes the chef's usual seem like weak pauper's ale in comparison. It is not long before they are more than a little merry, gathered round the piano, played enthusiastically by Charlotte. Adams is first up to sing, so belts out in a rather flat tone some unknown Scottish jig which requires some sort of Highland fling. Everyone present is just relieved that Adams hadn't decided to wear his kilt that evening.

Jarvis is sat silently in a chair, watching the performances and clapping politely where appropriate, but from time to time he is unable to take his gaze off the outgoing housekeeper. She seems to him on the surface to look so radiant and happy, but he knows her too well and is able to sense her underlying sadness and regret. But not once has she looked over in his direction – well, not that he is aware of anyway. It was then that Charlotte decides to try her hand at playing AND singing, embarking upon a beautiful yet sad and wistful song about losing the love of her life through her own stupidity. Flora has managed until then to keep herself composed, to good effect she thinks, but a such a sad song only served to stir up well suppressed emotions.

Grace catches her eye and smiles at her, but Flora only replies with a half smile then looks over at Jarvis, who is staring at his shoes, obviously in a deep sulk. She fixes her gaze on him, willing him to look at her with those beautiful blue eyes of his, as she can see he has made an effort to look his very best. A lump catches in her throat and tears form at the back of her eyes as she stares at the waistcoat – the first thing she had noticed on entering the room before even seeing the banners and streamers in her honour. She is about to look away when suddenly, as if he has felt her eyes upon him, Jarvis shoots a glance at her and their eyes lock.

For a moment, no words are needed, as Charlotte brings her ballad to a tearful end. The applause goes up, but the butler fails to join in and gets to his feet, slamming the glass down on the table, not budging his gaze for a second, until he quickly he turns and leaves the merriment behind. Flora, suddenly feeling obvious, blinks back the tears and smiles, giving Charlotte a rather late applause for her gentle singing as she watches Jarvis exit the room. His heart filled with sadness, realising that that had probably been the last look of love they would ever encounter, she glances at the clock and rises herself.

Flora announcing to the puzzled servants, only glancing at Felix: Goodness, is that the time? I should retire now I think, and unfortunately I have somewhat of a headache coming on. Don't mind me, carry on with the party, and the cheese rolling.

She turns to Grace, gently cupping her face in her hands and smiling

Flora tears reforming, genuinely sad to be leaving her friends – and what she considered her family – behind: Thank you, Grace for a wonderful evening and for the presents. I will truly miss you, all of you.

Outside, Jarvis has lit up his last cigar, which he puffs on gently as he walks along to the ornamental pond. Halfway there he stops, staring at the stars and sighing deeply, playing with the ring box in his pocket, before continuing on his path.

Flora wandered out of the party and up towards her room, she knew the excuse of a headache did not fool Felix as she had caught his raised eyebrow and enquiring glance before she had left. Sighing she realised it would only be a matter of minutes before he came out to check up on her, he still worried she would do something drastic and so had barely left her side since her accident. Sitting down on her bed she glanced round her room, everything was practically packed; she had only left out the essentials and the book. Shaking her head she wondered why she just didn't throw the damn thing away, why did she persist in torturing herself so. It was a link to her past not her future, Walter Corey had made it plain on several occasions he cared nothing for her or their child. If he cared even a little wouldn't he have managed on today of all days to speak to her alone, to put aside his male pride and ask her to stay?

Getting to her feet Flora grasped the book determinedly and walked over to the fire intending to throw in the little picture book and with it burn her bridges to the past. But she couldn't, her hand tightened around the book and she clasped it to her chest as tears welled in her eyes. When she was in Prussia this would be all she had to remember him by, the only link their child would have to his real father. Wiping her tears away determinedly she decided that it would be best if she put the book away for the time being, somewhere where she couldn't happen to stumble across it, then in a few years when things were more settled and she had dealt with her grief, she could bring it out and share it with their child. Felix! She could give the book to Felix, he could put it in his trunk and that way she wouldn't see it but she'd know it would be safe. Satisfied that this was the best thing to do, Flora left her room and wandered down the hallway to Felix's.

She knocked gently; the light inside was on so she knew he must either be in there or somewhere nearby. Slowly she opened the door and went to sit at his desk, waiting patiently for his return. After what seemed like ages she started to yawn, maybe it would best to leave the book in here with a note, after all she had no idea how long he would be. Opening his writing desk, Flora pulled out one of the drawers to find some paper, it was thus whilst glancing for some that she spotted the open letter and recognised the handwriting. Curious as to what Walter felt was so serious he had to communicate to Felix through a letter, she reached in and brought out the whole package. Only one of the letters had been opened, that was the one addressed to Felix, however there was another, there was no addressee but the letter had been sealed properly. Then underneath them both was a medium sized package, expertly wrapped but again no addressee. This was extremely puzzling, and anxious to know what was going on Flora turned to the open letter for answers.

Felix,
Despite our current estrangement, due to what I consider unforgivable behaviour on your part, I must regretfully beg your assistance in a matter that is of the utmost importance to me. Tomorrow you will be leaving Taplows with the only two things in the world I truly love, and it is with regard to these two persons that I must ask three favours of you.

Take care of her for me; don't let anything that it is in your power to prevent, from harming her, and if possible try to make her happy. Secondly as to the package I have entrusted to your care, it is a gift for Flora to celebrate the day of our child's birth and god willing a safe delivery. It is up to you whether you tell her who it is from, however even if you choose not to declare my identity please respect my wishes as to the day and purpose of the gift.

The last favour I ask of you I do so tentatively. I am not aware as to your and Flora's plans regarding my child's upbringing, whether you intend to tell it the truth about it's heritage or whether you intend to raise it as your own offspring. However if you do tell them the truth I have enclosed a letter for them, which I entrust to your safekeeping until they are of age. I understand that my current behaviour towards you will not entreat you to carry out my requests, however I appeal to your honour as a gentleman to put your own personal feelings aside and carry them out as I have written.

Yours Sincerely,
Walter Corey.

Flora sat there stunned the letter falling from her hand into her lap, who the hell did Walter Corey think he was? How could he say to her face that he cared nothing for her, yet here in his letter claim to love both her and their child? Determined to know everything, Flora grasped the other letter, hesitating momentarily, after all it was not meant for her to read, before ripping it open.

My Child,
I know that it must sound strange to hear a man you've never met, probably never heard mentioned call you that, but the truth remains that you are my child. I hope that you can learn to accept the truth and be content with it, and that this revelation has not caused you undue distress or pain, I would be willing to cease to exist if that is what you desired.

The truth is that I have loved you ever since I learnt of your creation, you are the only offspring I will ever have, as I loved your mother above any other person I have ever met and I can not see that changing in my life time. Although you have been raised abroad, and probably look upon Prussia and your Prussian relatives as being your roots your home, you do have my blood flowing in your veins.

It is thus about this family this heritage that I wish to speak, it is important for everyone to know where they come from, it is as important a part of ourselves and our self-identity as the colour of our eyes. If I had had the chance to raise you myself then this I would have taught you amongst many other things. However I have no choice but to narrate in this letter the most important elements of our shared history ……..

Flora couldn't read any more she folded back up the letter the other pages remained untouched, the tears that had welled in her eyes fell silently down her cheeks. How could she do this to him? Take his only child so far away; deny it this family history and identity that Walter obviously prized so highly. He loves me, he really loves me, she thought glancing back at the first passage, 'above anyone else in the world'!

Suddenly she got to her feet displacing the package that sat on her lap and it fell to the floor with a dull thump, she paused half way to the door, surely it couldn't hurt to take a quick peek, after all at least this was meant for her. Picking up the parcel she placed it on top of Felix's desktop and carefully removed the wrapping, on lifting the box lid she saw the shawl, nestled in the protective crepe paper. She gasped and tentatively reached out on hand to touch the soft silk and the exquisitely fine beading. There was no way he could have gotten this in England, he would have to have ordered it from abroad, either via a friend or from one of those ridiculously expensive couturiers in London.

She picked it up and placed it round her shoulders walking over to Felix's glass to admire it on her, she picked up a corner and rubbed the silk against her cheek smiling at his taste and thoughtfulness. Then she caught a trace of something, pulling the shawl off her shoulders, she brought it up to her face and breathed in the scent that clung to it. Finally she released the breath she had been holding, it was his aftershave, had he too held this shawl close, thinking of her on one of the many nights they had been estranged, all alone in his room with no one to comfort him. That was the last straw, she couldn't do it. There was no way she could leave for Prussia in the morning not knowing what she did now. All those times he had been horrible to her it was just to protect himself, to pretend to both her and himself that he wasn't as vulnerable as he obviously was. He needed her and their child, without them all he had was this bleak existence of servitude to look forward to, and she wouldn't in her selfishness condemn him to that. Determinedly she marched towards the door, grasping the letter from the bureau. She was just about to fling the door open wide when someone else beat her to it and in stepped Felix.

"Flora?" Felix asked, a look of surprise and confusion evident on his face, then his gaze fell on the open bureau and the letter clutched tightly in Flora's fist and he smiled.

"I wouldn't usually condone such behaviour, after all opening other people's mail is a criminal offence…"

"I am sorry Felix, I didn't mean to pry but once I started, then I just had to know everything!" She exclaimed walking over to him and taking his hands in hers.

"I take it this development will prevent my family and I from enjoying your company in Prussia?" He asked seriously.

Flora smiled, "I hope so Felix, I really do!"

Felix looked up and gazed intently at her for a few minutes, for the first time in weeks she actually looked like the woman he used to know, her joy and happiness was obvious to all and for the first time he understood why the term glowing and radiant was so often applied to expectant mothers. He opened his arms and drew her in for a hug, after a few minutes he released her leaning forward and placing a kiss on her forehead before opening the door and ushering her out, "Go find him, and please for my sake be happy!"

"I will, I mean we will I promise, I promise!" She yelled happily back over her shoulder as she picked up her skirts and dashed downstairs to find the butler.

Meanwhile outside Jarvis was pacing up and down by the ornamental pond going over and over in his mind the speech he had prepared. He had tried all day to work up the courage to catch Flora alone and tell her what was what, but every time he had worked up his nerve and marched along to her office she was either not there or had company. He knew now that tonight was his last chance, and everything depended on the success of this last attempt, if he failed then Flora and any chance for their family was lost forever. He had just taken the last drag on his cigar, his mind wandering to memories of Flora bashing the living bells out of Catherine Stanwick whilst wading waist deep in the water when he heard the soft tread of lady's footsteps on gravel. He whirled around and saw Flora standing there watching him, the light from the moon reflected in her eyes and twinkling in her jewellery and for a moment he was struck dumb by her beauty. He was brought back to reality when she started towards him her mouth opening to speak.

"Stop right there!" Jarvis bellowed, a little louder than he had planned but it had the desired affect as Flora stopped dead in her tracks a look of complete confusion on her face. Adams was right, for once, she did manipulate him, just look at the effect her beauty had on him, striking him dumb, him a grown man silenced by a pretty face. It was time he took control of both himself and the situation. Jarvis walked briskly towards her and gently but firmly seized her arm, walking them deeper into the gardens and further from the house.

When they were out of sight he released her and indicated she should sit on one of the many benches that were placed along the garden wall. Flora complied but once more started to speak, "Walter….."

"Not another word!" Jarvis warned her, holding up his hand indicating she should stop this instant. He turned and paced a few feet along the path then turned back, pacing backwards and forward in front of her. After a few moments he stopped and turned to face her once more.

"I think it's about time I put my foot down, I have been remarkably lenient with you so far! I thought it would be best if you came to realise yourself what a folly this moving to Prussia would be, but here we are the night before you leave and still you are obstinately refusing to admit you are wrong. If this stubbornness on your part is due to some misguided notion that I will suddenly give in and beg you on hands and knees to stay then you are wrong, so if you were holding out for some over the top romantic gesture let me save you the bother. It will not happen, I am not going to sacrifice my pride and dignity by begging anything from you!" Walter paused and gazed over at Flora, he had expected at least an indignant outcry or maybe a few tears, but instead all he received was an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. She doesn't believe me he thought; well I'll just have convince her.

"I am the man in this relationship, it is for me to make the decisions and I will not be forced into anything by a woman. I think it's about time you accepted the reality of your situation and what is expected of you! You are not going to Prussia in the morning! I refuse to permit it, that is my child and I'll be damned if anyone but me raises it, it will be born and raised a Corey or not at all!" Jarvis paused gasping for breath and tried to calm himself, this wasn't good he was not supposed to raise his voice or loose his temper. After a few moments he began again, this time in a quiet and even yet determined voice. "You have a duty to both me and our child to marry me and learn to be a proper wife, none of this running off to the continent rubbish and helping Felix run a restaurant! After all what self-respecting man would allow his wife to work, not when there is a family to raise, if he can't afford to support them without their earnings then he has no right to be having one at all." Jarvis sighed he was getting sidetracked, Flora's silence and widening smile was unnerving him more then any of her rantings. Why wasn't she harrumphing and trying to interrupt, asserting those forceful opinions of hers? Surely she must realise he was serious, or did she think so little of him that she thought he was incapable of carrying out his word.

The idea of her laughing at him, made him madder than anything else, she doesn't believe me he thought; well this should convince her of the seriousness of my intentions. Jarvis stormed over to her and grasping her roughly dragged her out of the chair and into his arms. He reached into his pocket and drew out the box, opening it with his free hand he picked out the ring and forced it onto her nearest finger, before grasping her face and kissing her firmly. Dazed Flora barely resisted, allowing him to kiss and caress her, but things had moved so suddenly she didn't know what to think. One moment she was sitting there smiling away at Walter's posturing, he was so attractive when he got it into his head to be all dominating and moody the next she was being kissed passionately and didn't she now have a ring on her finger?

After a few minutes the necessity to come up for air prevailed and Walter relinquished her mouth begrudgingly, pulling slightly away he tried to gage her reaction, but she looked only dazed, impatient he asked, "Well do we have an understanding, or is it going to be necessary for me to kidnap you?"

Slowly Flora glanced down at her right hand the stone twinkled in the moonlight, she only wished it was lighter so she could tell what it was. Typical she thought he can't even get the right hand, so she reached down and removed it from her finger handing it back to him. She looked up and saw his face fall, he thought she was refusing him, she couldn't let this happen again and so quickly raised her left hand pointing with her right to the correct finger.

"What I don't understand?" Jarvis muttered confused backing away from her.

"I'm not confused!" Flora replied quietly, putting her hand into her pocket and drawing out his letter, "I think I understand everything now!" She added handing it over to Jarvis.

Jarvis accepted the scrunched letter and recognised it immediately, "How did you?….You had no right! That was private, it was important, my insurance for our child there are things that they need to know….."

"Yes there are!" She countered, closing the gap between then, "and you can tell them whenever you want, be it when they get up in the morning or when you tuck them in a night! And who knows in a few years time maybe they'll have a little brother or sister and then you can tell them as well!"

Suddenly Jarvis realised what she was saying and he reached out brushing his hand down her face as he gazed lovingly into her eyes, before drawing her close. After a few minutes she tapped him on the shoulder and he released her slightly so they could stand comfortably nose-to-nose.

"Yes?" Jarvis asked happily.

"Are you forgetting something?" Flora asked playfully, unlocking her arms from around his neck and waving her ringless left hand around in the air.

Laughing Jarvis caught her hand with his own and reaching down into his pocket where he had in his haste stashed the ring. For a moment he couldn't find it and the panic must of shown on his face, "Oh no you don't Walter Corey don't tell me you've gone and lost another ring?"

Finally his fingers closed around the tiny item, it had slipped through a hole in his seam and had ended up in the lining of his waistcoat. Victorious he withdrew it with a flourish and saw her smile light up in delight, "Now which finger was it? He asked teasingly, pulling her back into his arms, luxuriating in the feel and smell of holding her so close.

Flora raised her eyebrow and held out her left hand onto which he expertly slid the ring onto the correct finger. "So what happens now?" Flora asked obviously curious as to his plans for future.

"Oh something will turn up!" He replied teasingly, laughing as she rolled her eyes at his pun, "Believe me love," he added, "I have something special in mind."

At this rather suggestive question, Flora raised a knowing, if slightly sceptical eyebrow, comprehending precisely what Jarvis was implying. For a split second she hesitated, as the sheer significance of the moment, but on remembering what she had said to Will the previous day, looked wantonly at the hand he had offered to her. She had told the young under-butler to pursue his dreams, that anything he truly wanted was worth fighting for, and as this was EVERYTHING she had ever wanted, she seized the opportunity with both hands (literally). No sooner had their palms met, than Jarvis was taking her whole arm, linking it with his own, leading her into a moonlit stroll back towards the house, him showing off, pointing out a few constellations, though assuring her that not even the North Star glistened as brightly as her eyes did right now.

As they neared the servants quarters, the sound of their colleagues rejoicing and having a wonderful time (as was the tradition at Taplow's below stairs parties), filled the air. However, at that very moment, the combined excitement of those inside, could not match a fraction of that felt by these two, as they strode in tandem through the courtyard. Suddenly Flora stopped and looked over her left shoulder at the laundry and pantry windows which let out a glow of light, coming from the Resident's Hall, and they listened to the raucous laughter streaming through the open windows. Briefly she sighed in utter elation. However, this was not allowed for more than a few seconds by Jarvis who, unwilling to let her 'exquisite' face out of his sight, gently seized her chin, manoeuvring her head to face him, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. In response, she nuzzled the underside of his chin with her nose, in a figure-of-eight motion, at which he lowered his head, it coming to rest at her eyelevel, and didn't alter this for a considerable amount of time.

As she had her back to the windows, she stared into his eyes, his pupils narrowed, but his crystal blue irises lit up, her own flickering between his two. They were only stopped when she felt him squeeze her hand tightly, before leading her passed the servants' entrances, and into the main body of the house. He practically dragged her through the hallways, all the way, repeatedly glancing over his shoulder to check that she was still there. Each time he did so, her smile widened a little, and her giggles evolved into joyful laughter. But, when they reached the foot of the grand staircase, she managed to break free, professing "Walter, what are we doing! What if someone sees!"

"Flora my darling, no one will see us, as their all at your non-leaving (he still couldn't believe his luck in saying that) leaving party!" he exclaimed, adding in defiance as he walked up a few steps "And besides, even if they did, I for one couldn't care less!"

Momentarily Flora stayed grounded to her step, still worrying "But someone wi-"
Before she had chance to finish, he held out his hand once more, asking "Do you trust me?"

"Well I-"

"Do you trust me!" he pleaded, his brow furrowing just slightly.

This time there was no hesitation, as she answered confidently "Implicitly". At this, she snatched his hand, and to his delighted surprise, marched straight passed his step, taking the lead herself. By the middle section of the stairs, Jarvis had caught up, and the pair walked up the remaining steps side-by-side, arm-in-arm, gazing into each other's eyes. When they reached the top, Flora was a little apprehensive as to which way to turn, but Jarvis knew exactly where he was taking them, he had known about this place for some time, and was saving it for such an occasion. Consequently, he resumed control over the navigation once again.

Unbeknown to most of the staff, and Taplow's premiere residents alike, for the last few months of his courtship with Ms Harrows, the Earl had secretly refurbishing a number of rooms in the west wing, in Gwen's honour. Despite the rather premature departure of the young 'lady', his lordship had been most insistent on the completion of the project he had commissioned. However, since this, no one (even those who knew about them) had dared enter, as the Earl could not bring himself to set foot in any of them. This chain of (non) events was now broken, as Jarvis unlocked the door, and invited Floras to step inside 'ladies first', himself following immediately afterwards. At first, Flora felt quite disorientated, and was a little unsure what to make of this new room, as they found themselves in pitch darkness. The soothing light of the stars was concealed behind the huge, thick curtains which hung at the windows.

Jarvis, kissing Flora's hand before disappearing into the darkness, instinctively walked to each of the four corners of the room, in each lighting one of the beautiful Italian lamps, which the Earl had ordered specially.

However, after the second was lit, Flora became mesmerised by the fine fabric covered walls, dark red velour, which she couldn't resist reaching out to touch. It was so soft that she caressed it for a moment, marvelling at the detail. She was disturbed in the process by Walter, who emerged behind her, threading his arms around her waist, and whispering playfully in her ear "Close your eyes and turn around" She did so with his help, but he soon noticed her eyelashes flickering and quickly placed his hands over her eyes, scolding her with a humorous "No peaking!"

With a sigh, Flora conceded, "Alright, Alright", closing her eyes tightly, wrinkling her nose up to emphasise that. At this, he smiled to himself and for the next minute or so just stood there in awe, watching her relaxed face in the gentle light. Her impatience getting the better of her, the housekeeper cried "Surely I can open them now!"

This managed to stir Jarvis from his trance-like state, as he announced proudly, though with a hint of a giggle ""Yes my love, you certainly can."

Whatever Flora had been expecting, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she now beheld. Indeed, it literally took her breath away. "Oh Walter!" She gasped, turning quickly to look at him, before her eyes fixed forward, as she drew her hand to her now open mouth.

There, in the middle of the room was the most glorious of traditional four-poster beds. As she staggered toward it quite overcome, she leant her hand firmly on the butler's arm, for much needed support. She could see that the drapes and the bedclothes were identical to the colours of the walls, but were rimmed and embroidered in what appeared to be (and on closer inspection, turned out to be) genuine gold thread. On lightly running her free hand over the sheets, she was amazed to discover that they were made of pure silk. At this realisation, her conscience finally caught up with her - could they really do this in what was (presumably) to be the Earl's marriage bed? The answer was crystal clear to her when she turned to look at Walter, who hadn't been able to tear his eyes away, after seeing her euphoric response to this most perfect of settings. However, their surroundings could no distract them any longer, as they titled their heads in unison, and tenderly locked lips, in an all consuming kiss.

As things progressed, the butler reached down, and carefully scooped up his reason for being, as though she weighed no more than a feather, before slowly lowering her onto the previously untouched bed. He rested her head (which was still firmly attached to his own) gently onto one of the goose-feathered pillows.

When he reluctantly withdrew, she smiled a deliriously happy smile, as he clambered, somewhat nervously onto the bed beside her. Like the gentleman he had always endeavoured to be, he waited for a second for permission before advancing on top of her, when this was granted most willingly. Suspended above her, he took her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, pushing them far above her head. She wriggled beneath him slightly, raising both her eyebrows and gave a sultry smile, he lowered his head, resting his forehead on hers, at which they both breathed in deeply through their noses. This coincidence invoked a giggle from both parties but when Walter pulled away ever-so-slightly, they were locked in each others gaze, and the laughter stopped.

When she could hold back no longer, Flora wrenched her head from the pillow, kissing him hungrily, with such force that it caused him to roll over slightly, until they both lay on their sides. On coming up for air, he drew her into a fierce hug, which, more than likely, didn't do her circulation the power of good. At this very moment though, that factor was of secondary concern as they had both totally surrendered themselves, neither prepared to let the other go, not for a second. Confession time was not over yet for Jarvis, as he whispered breathlessly, between placing kisses on her neck "I've missed you SO much!"

Flora prised him off her, holding his shoulders, "Me too, like you wouldn't believe" She ran her hands up and down the front of his now infamous waistcoat, breathing heavily, and swept away by the emotion pleaded "Lets never speak of it again!"

As she shook her head vigorously, a small whisp of hair found its way free. Jarvis moved to ammend this immediately, brushing it from her cheek. He reached up and released her hair grip, continuing his hand, tracing the outline of her body. Both pairs of eyes followed his hand, but when it reached her waist, she grasped it in her own, and both looked up into each others eyes, their breath caught in their throats.

After less than a second Flora squeezed his hand and drew it further around her back, pulling him back on top of her. To show his appreciation, he too pulled her towards him, running his hands across her back, kissing her with unrestrained passion. Finally, he came to rest just next to her, his head on her chest, where it remained for sometime. The pair thought to themselves that this, and no where else in the entire world was where they most wanted to be, where they belonged.

As they had not spoken, let alone moved for a few minutes, Flora became a little anxious and tried, in vain, to haul herself up, discovering that Walter had in fact managed to fall asleep on her. Far from being put out at this, she placed a loving peck on the crown of his head, whispering "I love you", before sighing deeply to herself, as she looked up at the ceiling, placing her head back on the pillow. She continued to caress his soft hair, staring (unbelievably considering recent events) at the unspeakably beautiful ring he had finally managed to get onto her finger, and indeed, onto the correct finger! As she did so, it occurred to her that Walter's right hand was resting protectively on her stomach, the most reassuring and equally overwhelming eventuality, the thought of which brought tears to her eyes, and did not escape her mind, until she too drifted off. It was there that the two lovers slept silently, cradled in each others arms, at long last.

He awoke early, finding himself hanging off the edge of the four-poster, still fully clothed except for his shoes which he had kicked off just before...before...

Jarvis fumbling for his pocket watch: Oh damn!

He remembers instantly, looking over at a sleeping Flora, also still fully dressed. Flopping back onto his pillow, he sighs heavily and rubs his chin. How could he have fallen asleep right in the middle, or more like right at the beginning, of performing his manly duty? Embarrassing fool! He chides himself, damn that Adams for making him drink and tiring him out! Although, he concedes, studying Flora's beauty, he has in fact a lot to thank Andrew Adams for, in making him see sense and teaching him to go after what you want before it is too late. He smiles lovingly and in wonderment at Flora's sleeping form - she is lying on her back, her face towards him and left arm up and resting gently against her pillow, the ring still firmly on her finger. Slowly and quietly, he decides it is probably time to wake her from her slumber, especially if he is to have time to make up for the previous night, so he leans over her and nuzzles and kisses her cheek and temple, carefully beginning to unbutton the front of her dress. She stirs, moaning slightly, as she opens her eyes to see him next to her. For a second she smiles sleepily, but then a naughty grin spreads across her face as she pushes his wandering hand away from her.

Flora sitting up: Er, I don't think so, Walter Corey!

Jarvis expression crumpling into one of disappointment: Why ever not?

Flora feigning anger as she stands and brushes down her skirts: I think you know very well why not!

Jarvis gulping, voice ever so slightly high pitched: Is this about last night?

Flora hands on hips and glaring at him, but really desperate to laugh: Too right it is! What sort of husband will you make if you fall asleep every time!

Flora turns away from him, her face in her hands. Make him suffer for just a little bit longer, she thinks.

Jarvis reaching out to her: I'm sorry! This isn't what it's going to be like, I can assure you! You're very...very sexually pleasing, Flora, you KNOW I think that! Do you not want me now? Am I too...too...I don't know...inadequate?

She decides it is time to put him out of his misery, so turns to him, the cheeky grin and sparkle in her eye returning. He stares at her for a second or two, before it dawns on him. Smiling at his own foolishness for letting her out-wit him, he tugs off his jacket, leaps off the bed and runs around it to catch her, as she giggles girlishly. She manages to climb over the bed and to the other side to escape, but still he doesn't give up

Flora waving a hand playfully at him as she runs from one side to the other: Oh Walter, stop being childish!

Jarvis raising his eyebrow naughtily: I think, Flora my dear, it is you who started the childishness with your silliness, so if you want to play games! I'm going to catch you!

Flora laughing so hard tears flowed down her cheeks: Stop it! This is no way for a respectable butler like yourself to behave!

But she is too late, as he catches her by her ankle as she climbs over the bed for the third time. She lets out a little yelp as he pulls her down, swiftly climbing on top of her and pinning her down by her arms as she giggles softly.

Jarvis kissing her nose, his voice sultry: You're right, this certainly isn't any way for a respectable butler, or an equally well respected housekeeper, to behave.

Flora returning the kiss and pushing her hands firmly up inside his waistcoat before slowly unbuttoning it: Well, isn't that what makes it all the more fun, Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis planting small kisses on her throat: Indeed you are correct, Mrs Ryan.

Flora runs her fingers through his hair as she unbuttons his shirt, as his lips come up to meet hers before wandering down her neck and across her shoulders as her dress loosens

Jarvis running his fingers down the bones of her exposed corset before placing kisses on her forehead, nose, lips and chin I think kiss, no in fact I know kiss we are going to be very kiss, very kiss, VERY kiss late for breakfast.

An hour later and the majority of the Senior staff were gathered round the dining room table for breakfast. However there were two notable exceptions, both the butler and housekeeper were missing, and as the meal progressed the valets exchanged at first bemused and then gradually more amused glances. Mrs Diggins had sat next to Mr Kraus, who far from being a fountain of information regarding the missing pair had barely spoke more than two words together, concentrating on demolishing his last Taplow's meal rather then exchanging pleasantries with his fellow servants. This proved too much for Mrs Diggins to handle, and as the chef got up to leave, she practically bounded out of her seat and followed him out of the dining room and into his kitchen.

Felix realised at once that she had followed him, but chose to ignore his new shadow in favour of a last minute prowl round his kitchen ensuring that he had left no small yet vital piece of his own equipment behind. After a few minutes she could contain herself no longer, "Mr Kraus!"

Felix whirled round, the fake surprised smile looking comical on his face, and some of the kitchen maids, Lizzie included had to cover their mouths to stifle their giggles. "Yes Mrs Diggins, how can I possibly be of assistance this fine autumn morning?"

The sarcasm was dripping from every word, but if Mrs Diggins noticed she chose to ignore it.

"How is Mrs Ryan this morning, I noticed she missed breakfast, I do hope she will be well enough to travel?" Mrs Diggins asked, her obvious interest in the location of Mr Jarvis remained unsaid.

"I have no idea, I haven't seen her this morning! But I wouldn't worry yourself unduly Mrs Diggins, I do believe I have it on good authority that Mrs Ryan will not be accompanying me to Prussia, either today or anytime in the future!"

"But, but…." Mrs Diggins stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence fast enough.

"Well if that is all? After all I do have a journey to prepare for, and other goodbyes to say!" And with that Felix turned and walked quickly out of the kitchen, but not before winking cheekily at an ecstatic Lizzie who stood by the door her hands clasped in delight.

As soon as Kraus had left she gathered her petticoats and ran as fast as she could to the lower servants hall, where the rest of the maids were clearing away the remains of breakfast. She ran over to Grace and practically dragged her outside.

"Lizzie!" Grace yelled somewhat put out at having her arm almost pulled from its socket, "What is it?"

As soon as they rounded the stable courtyard Lizzie stopped dead and Grace ploughed into her. "Don't be angry!" Lizzie pleaded. "I just heard the most amazing news and I wanted to tell you first!"

Grace folded her arms across her chest, her expression told Lizzie that this had better to be good to make up for man handling her like that.

"Mrs Ryan isn't going!"

"What?" Grace gasped.

"Kraus is still going, but she's staying, which means that her and Mr Jarvis must have made up last night!"

"Are you sure?" Grace asked, a frown on her face, "couldn't she just have decided she didn't want to go all the way to Prussia?"

"No, I'm sure! It was the way Chef said it, and neither or them made breakfast this morning I heard Mrs Diggins say so and no one else has seen hide nor hair of them since last night, when they both left the party early! What's more Kraus seems pleased, he even winked at me when he left the kitchen, he wouldn't have done that if everything wasn't alright now would he?"

Grace smiled, "you're right he wouldn't! But what do we do, do we keep it a secret or tell people?"

"Well," Lizzie added a sly smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, "I think people will find out soon enough, I mean when she doesn't get in the carriage with him, so why spoil their surprise for them!"

Grace nodded her agreement, why spoil it indeed.

An hour later and the majority of the staff were gathered in the servants' courtyard preparing to wave off both their chef and housekeeper. However rumours were flying around the assembled crowd, someone had heard from one of the kitchen maids that the plans had changed, another was saying that the housekeeper and butler had disappeared during the night. Others were dismissing this as nonsense, that there could be perfectly legitimate reasons for the absences. A few minutes later and Mr Kraus appeared bag in hand and instructed Johnny on the correct order for storing his bags.

Meanwhile inside two very red faced and ecstatic members of the senior staff had just dashed all the way downstairs. It had been a close run thing as both had needed to pop back to their rooms to change, it would be unthinkable for both to appear in public wearing their clothes from the night before. Walter had finished first and tapped on Flora's door and she had called for him to enter, he had to stifle his laughter as she was standing in her corset and petticoats searching manically through one of her many previously neatly packed trunks. Walking over to her he slid his hands round her waist, "Now what is going on here? You're supposed to be dressing not redecorating!" He quipped indicating the clothes slung carelessly and abandoned over the floor, dresser and desk.

"If you're not going to be helpful, then you can wait outside Walter Corey!" She added firmly, pushing away his encircling arms and continuing her search.

Puzzled Walter shook his head and sat down on one of the closed trunks, "Flora you have dozens of dresses just pick one!"

Exasperated Flora pushed him off the trunk and began to rummage through it, "Yes I do have dozens of dresses, however I would thought that after this morning you might of realised that some of them will no longer fit me in my present condition!"

"Ahhhhhhh." Jarvis replied suddenly realising the reason for her panic, "So which dress are we looking for?"

"Its dark blue with little cream flowers on it, its one of the few I've be able to alter and let out a little at the waist."

"Does it have lace at the neckline?" He asked amused.

"Yes, why?" She snapped, not amused at his flippancy over something so important.

"Because it's hanging up on the back of your door!" He added, handing over the dress and helping the now embarrassed Flora into it.

They just made down to the courtyard in time, Felix had been pacing up and down in front of his carriage for a good five minutes and had finally given up on them, turning his back to get into his carriage; feeling must put out that his two closest friends had not even bothered to come and wave him off after everything he had done for them.

"Felix wait!" Flora called out, as her and Jarvis strode across the courtyard, her arm on his and the rest of the staff parted like the red sea to allow them through.

Will turned to Lizzie elbowing her, "Well that's a turn up for the books, and Jarvis wins the title match! I bet you didn't see that coming did you Liz?" He added goading the young maid.

"Oh didn't I?" She replied under her breath, turning and smiling mockingly at the under-butler's confused expression. Will was about to reply, but instead the conversation of the senior staff caught his attention.

"Felix." Jarvis said cordially, "It has been a pleasure serving with you." He added extending his hand to the former chef, which Kraus didn't hesitate to grasp firmly in a handshake, before pulling the surprised butler in for a quick hug. After a few moments he released the stunned Jarvis and turned to Flora who was standing next to him.

"Flora!" He said simply, opening his arms into which she practically flung herself squeezing him tight. "Please be happy, you both have each other, just from now on talk about your problems don't ignore them." He whispered into her ear.

"I promise!" Flora replied as he released her, turning to the gathered crowd.

"Goodbye my friends, let us hope we may all see each other again at some point in the future." He cried out to his former colleagues, before removing his hat and getting into his waiting carriage.

Suddenly he leant out the window and handed a book over to Mrs Ryan, "Flora my dear I do believe this is yours!"

Flora grasped her Italy book in one hand and slipped her other onto Walter's arm, "Felix Kraus how are we ever going to be able to repay you?"

Felix frowned slightly, before his mouth twitched in a small smile and he pointed causally at Flora's stomach, "Well you could make me a godparent?" And with that comment and a small wave, the carriage pulled away and made its way out of the courtyard and up the lane away from Taplows. As Kraus' carriage rolled up the winding drive, through the magnificent parkland, it was only the Butler and his beloved Housekeeper who remained standing on the gravel in front of the house, as the lower servants had all scurried back inside in dribs and drabs. Although her hand had not moved from his arm, their eyes had remained fixed on the carriage, as a mark of respect to the colleague whom they would sorely miss.

However, when the coach disappeared from view, Flora turned to him, drawing him into a lustful gaze, but resisting temptation, asked him in a most prim and proper tone "Shall we return to the house, Mr Corey?"

This raised an affectionate smile, as he took her hand, gently kissing it before, looking up from her hand and replying "But of course, Mrs Corey … to be." At this, he linked her left arm with his right, caressing the hand on which his ring glistened, and as they strolled back to the house, Flora thought just how much she liked the sound of him calling her that.

Unbeknown to both, Lizzie had not followed the rest back downstairs, instead, she stood in the courtyard, her head poking around the large stone wall just enough so she could see the two, and not be seen herself. She watched their every move until it became imperative that she should move, as not to be discovered snooping. But, as she turned to do so, she was met with the sight of Will striding back over the courtyard toward her. As under-butler, he had to ensure that on returning to the house, the staff were aware of what they had to do with their day. On doing so, he noticed that Lizzie wasn't present, but after a lucky guess, he had been able to locate her swiftly.

"Liz, can we have a word?" he enquired tentatively

As he continued, so did she, with the same line "I'm sorry about yesterday" they chimed in unison. They found this coincidence most amusing, both letting out a little laugh, shaking their heads, and looking down to the ground, the symmetry continuing.
As they looked up, they caught each others eyes, but the moment was untimely spoiled as they heard Mr Jarvis and Mrs Ryans' playful laughter approaching.

Quickly, not wanting to be caught dawdling on duty by the pair, Will whispered desperately to Lizzie "Can see you later?" taking her by her upper arms.

"For another row?" she teased

"No, I should bloody well hope not!"

They smiled at each other for a split second, Lizzie nodding, before he grabbed her arm, pulling her into the nearest entrance. Standing just behind the door they had quickly closed behind them, Will asked again, just to check.

"Yes, now go on!" she ensured him, waving him off on his way

Cut to the kitchen, where in Mr Kraus' absence, there was a lot needing to be done. However, at that moment, very little could be percieved to have been done, as as usual, the lower servants were working to their own timetable, which, as usual, involved a lengthily period of gossiping. Charlotte and Grace were at present hiding in the cold storage room, where George was ferrying the freshly delivered meat in from the supplier's cart.

"I can't believe those two, how longs it going to last this time!" Charlotte quipped, referring to Flora and Jarvis.

"I've got a feeling about this time-" Grace started with an excited glint in her eye

"You said that last time!" Charlotte reminded her, with a sceptical look.

"Oh Charlie!" Grace mused, knowing full well Charlotte hated being called by that shortened and rather boyish version of her name. "Don't be such a prude! This time it IS for good. Don't you notice the way they look at each other, her hand resting on his arm, his RING on her finger!" Grace could hardly contain her glee at this last piece of evidence.

Conceding defeat, if only slightly, "Yes I've see the way she looks at him, and after that little speech of hers about 'men are not the same as us', I think its all a bit hypocritical."

"Oh please!" Grace scoffed. "Drop it Charlie, you want them to be just as happy as the rest of us do, go on admit it!" she challenged, walking toward her fellow maid, causing the defendant to step back a few paces.

Feeling a tad fearful, though not prepared to show it, Charlotte piped up "Well at least he's put a ring on her finger at last, that should hopefully bode well for their souls!"
After receiving another exasperated look from Grace, she totally melted, "Oh but it is a most beautiful ring is not!" she proclaimed with a heavy sigh.

On seeing George enter the room once more, Grace raised her voice in order to reply "Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe it. Did you see the way it sparkled in the sunlight, certainly caught my eye!" At this, she caught George's eye, at which she received a knowing look.

"Oh I bet it did!" he commented teasingly, though headed straight for the door, a little too scared to hear her retort.

Funnily enough, the next time he entered the room, with Lizzie in tow (who had been enquiring after Grace), his favourite maid once again struck up a conversation over the housekeeper's most admired new piece of jewellery, though she was dying to know what her friend thought of it anyway.

"Liz, did you see it!" Grace questioned excitedly

Lizzie, being a little slower than usual, in deep thought over what Will wanted to talk to her about, didn't give her the reply she had hoped for, instead she just gave Grace a rather puzzled glance.

"I think she means the ring!" George huffed sarcastically as he walked back out the door, leaving them to it.

When George had finished to-ing and fro-ing with the meat delivery, he skulked off round to the stables where the other footmen were painting the wooden doors black. This was done on the insistence of the Earl on his return from London, where he found them to have faded to an ugly shade of grey. Despite his rather precarious financial state, his lordship had professed it to a nothing less than a disgrace to have such a distasteful colour on the stable doors. Though, in order to save some money, he avoided the cost of employing painters, and decided to let his footmen 'earn their keep'. Thus, it was here Fred, Joe, Adams and Johnny had spent the last half an hour or so. However, in which time, the hapless quartet had actually managed to get more paint on themselves than the doors. The worst culprit was poor Johnny, whom on tripping over some of the more raised cobbles, had dropped his paint tin and landed front first into the thick, black paint.

At this Fred and Adams roared with laugher, and though Joe was a little more considerate, but couldn't help sniggering loudly, at which point George arrived and also couldn't hide his amusement. Things went from bad to worse for Johnny, as he was rapped by Fred for turning out to be wrong all along, with regards to Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus. After the events of the previous evening and earlier that morning, Johnny had well and truly lost his only claim to fame. In order to inflate his own ego a little, Adams stepped in, telling them how it was he who finally got the Butler to see sense, thought he didn't go into the particulars of Jarvis' drunken slurs, as he had no desire to be reminded of them himself. At such a revelation George pointed out that he hadn't thought Adams and Jarvis to have been especially close, quite the opposite in fact. Adams admitted this was quite true, but then asked them how else they thought he was going to work his way back to being under-butler. Fred jibbed that he'd have to dry out for more than a few hours IF that was going to happen. Adams ignored this rather childish comment, though duly noted it for when he did indeed seize his job back from William Forrest.

At that moment, the under-butler in question emerged, asking whether anyone had seen Lizzie, claiming Mrs Ryan was looking for her. Initially, his reason stuck, as George told him that last him he'd seen her was with Grace and Charlotte. However, Will's excuse came undone when George continued sarcastically. "Well Mrs Ryan MUST be all loved up, coz it was her who gave Lizzie this afternoon off yesterday!"

In saying this, George hadn't intended to catch Will out as such, but as he clearly wasn't receptive of Fred's sniggers, Will reminded George that he wasn't on painting duty and that the fire in Old Lady Mary's room was in need of a damned good clean, which filled his friend with glee. As Will turned to walk back to the house, George following him, Adams kept a keen and distrusting eye on him, what did he want Lizzie for?

After lunch, which was without any clear leadership in the kitchen a little haphazard, Adams set about refilling the oil lamps throughout the house. Various things are on his mind, including the lack of job security, Jarvis' and Mrs Ryan's future plans, his rather peculiar relationship with Lizzie and his lingering feelings for Rebecca. He has wandered into the Orangery and stands at the spot where he had attacked Mrs Stanwick before she left. He doesn't feel any sort of triumph or glee at her discomfort and terror, but is more disgusted with himself than anything, even if part of him feels she had been asking for it. Shaking his head and frowning, she looks out of the window and sees Lizzie a little way from the house huddled by a tree in her shawl, her head buried in a book and a look of hard concentration on her face. He moves closer to the window, momentarily forgetting his duties, and stares at her - her lips are moving as she recites whatever she is reading, and he concludes that it must be poetry.

He often forgot how lucky he is to have a daughter; certainly one so caring and thoughtful as she seems to be. Well, he smiles to himself, she certainly didn't get that from him. She always reminds him so much of her mother, or what he can remember of her mother anyway. The same hazel eyes and button nose, although her round face is still rather childlike and still needs to mature. But, he thinks, in time she would certainly grow to become like the beauty he had been so fond of 17 years ago.

Lizzie's mother had been the most attractive woman he had ever seen - until he met Rebecca Farquharson, that is. She was the belle of all Scotland, and had filled Adams' heart with joy during his time at Highlands. She would turn heads by just walking into a room, her body was so slender and her smile so engaging that any warm-blooded male would not have been able to take their eyes off her. Her fiery red curly hair would usually be tied up on her head, but she would often let out strands of curls to shape her well structured cheek bones, and her sparkling blue eyes would be so full of energy and love. She could have had any man in Scotland - or in the rest of Britain - if she had wanted. So why did she choose a short, plain-looking under-butler as the object of her affections? He cursed himself for his hard drinking and gambling; asking himself why such a stupid thing had to tear them apart. For a fleeting minute he considers whether he should go back to Highlands, working as anything at all in or around the estate, just to be near her. If he is to loose his job, and a roof over his head, then where else could he go anyway?

Adams' gaze has never left Lizzie, only his thoughts had, but on considering this possibility he suddenly realises he has a responsibility to his daughter now. He can't leave her...unless she goes with him? As if she is aware of his stare, Lizzie suddenly looks up from her book at straight at Adams, making eye contact for a second or two. Her blank expression creases into a smile, warming Adams' heart, and for the first time he feels such a strong surge of fatherly love towards her that it almost brings tears to his eyes. It is then he notices he's not alone in the room, as Lizzie stops smiling and returns to her book. Turning quickly, a shadow looming over him, he sees Jarvis standing there looking rather sheepish

Adams Snatching up his oil: Sorry sir, getting back to work now, honest...

Jarvis holding up his hands: I, er...saw you as I was going past and hoped I'd catch you alone, I just wanted to, well, you know, say thank you for your advice the other night.

Adams half smiling, looking away: Oh, I don't think you needed me, Mr Jarvis, I'm sure you'd have done the right thing.

Jarvis awkwardly patting him on the arm and turning a little pink: I'm not so sure of that, Mr Adams, I think a drink and a good talking to was what I needed.

Adams grinning and relaxing a little: And as I vaguely remember saying at the time, sir, that wasn't the only good thing you needed...

Jarvis sharply as he rocks on his heels: Yes, thank you Mr Adams, I remember what you said more than I think you do!

Jarvis moves towards the exit so to end the all-in-all rather embarrassing conversation

Jarvis indicating to the oil: Right, back to work Mr Adams if you please, and we've a staff meeting later if you would care to show yourself.

Adams frowns and nods, Jarvis swiftly exiting. He looks over at the tree, but Lizzie has gone and he instinctively begins to worry. That William Forest, what is he up to? He crunched his knuckles slightly, gritting his teeth, vowing that if he lays as much as a finger on his daughter he'd gladly break every bone in the little upstart's body. He sees the way she looks at Forest, with the same longing look her mother used to give him all those years ago. It was there and then that he decides it is time to become a better man and a better father. No more drinking, no more snide remarks, no more slacking off - if he is to see Rebecca again he can't be an embarrassing, drunk, wreck of a man. He wants his job as under-butler back, and if William Forest thinks he can take his only child away from him, then he has more than another thing coming. As he returns to his duties, Adams holds that thought for a moment longer. Yes, that lad had certainly better watch himself.

A few hours later and George had finally finished scrubbing all the dirt off of the old biddies fireplace, he would have been done ages ago but Lady Mary had insisted on sitting by the fire and supervising whilst he worked. It never ceased to amaze George that despite her being over ninety years old and as deaf as a post her eyesight was as sharp as a hawks. Finally he'd managed to meet Lady Mary's high standards and had been allowed to leave with just enough time for him to attend the staff meeting. He dashed down the corridor, walking as fast as he could without breaking out into a run. He has to come to a stop suddenly when a book came hurtling out the open door of the Earl's bedroom, followed quickly by its owner Lady Caroline.

She didn't seem to notice George and yelled back through the doors, "It's all your fault daddy, and I don't care! You've left me no choice I'm going to London tomorrow to stay with Auntie Maud and there is nothing you can say that'll make me change my mind! Stop pretending to be ill, there's nothing the matter with you that you haven't brought on yourself!" And with this she slammed the doors shut and barged past George, a determined look on her face.

Bemused George hurried off and just made it into Jarvis's office in time, as the Butler had just started his spiel, an amused Grace dashed over and opened the door for him before Jarvis could notice him standing by the window waving for someone to let him in.

"What did I miss?" A worried George whispered softly in Grace's ear.

She waited a moment for Jarvis' attention to shift back to the other side of the room before replying, "Not much, apparently Lady Caroline is heading off to London tomorrow!"

"Hmmm," George replied, "Already heard that from the horse's mouth."

Grace turned shooting him a confused glance, but before she could enquire further Mr Jarvis turned his attention to the late arrivals.

"Ahhhhh Mr Cosmo, did you have anything you wished to add?"

"No Mr Jarvis!" George added his eyes trained on the floor.

"Well then from now on maybe you do us the honour of turning up to meetings on time?" Jarvis added his eyebrow raised, but his serious tone was undermined by the tug of a smile at the side of his mouth.

"As I was saying before Mr Cosmo's timely arrival, the lack of staff will mean that everyone will be expected to carry out duties that they would not normally be assigned. We all have to pull our weight in these times of difficulty!" In the back of the room Mr Adams coughed. "Yes Mr Adams?" Jarvis asked.

"I was just wondering sir, how long the current situation is likely to continue? After all none of us mind earning our keep, but we would like to think that in recognition of our extra labour our jobs will be safe?"

Jarvis sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I wish I could guarantee that that is the case Mr Adams, however nothing is at the moment certain and if any of you wish to look for another place I would not discourage you from doing so! That is all I have to say, do you have anything to add Mrs Ryan?"

He turned gazing towards Flora, but she did not answer her gaze remained directed out the window. Jarvis smiled slightly and walked over to her, ignoring the dozens of eyes that now flicked between the pair, most accompanied by a smile. "Mrs Ryan!" He called softly waving his hand in front of her face, as she was obviously miles away.

Suddenly Flora snapped back to the present, and raised a hand quickly to her chest, "Walter that was not funny!" She exclaimed before realising that they were not alone, as she turned and spotted the assembled company, all of whose smiles had turned into broad grins. "I mean Mr Jarvis, what did you say?" she stuttered trying to recover.

Jarvis simply smiled broadly at her shaking his head, "Nothing Mrs Ryan! I was simply asking if you had anything to add?" He asked amused by her suddenly panicked expression. "Anything relating to the current situation, staffing wise?" He prompted.

Flora recovered quickly, "other than the need to tighten our belts supply wise, I have decided to scrap afternoon tea! Breakfast, Dinner and Supper should suffice." She replied noting the shocked and dismayed expression on Walter's face, afternoon tea was the only meal he always managed to make time for. "It is an expensive luxury, its only affect seems to be on the size of the uniforms and that is something we can all do without!" She added, a slight smile on her face as Jarvis and most of the men's reactions was to automatically suck in their stomachs.

"Well!" Jarvis added, trying desperately to maintain his posture whilst addressing the room, "I think that is everything! You should all go back to what you were doing!" He added hastily practically shooing them out the room before turning to Flora his hands on his hips. "So you think I need to lose a few pounds is that it?" He stated seriously.

Flora stood before him and crossed her hands over her chest, "Did I say anything of the sort?" She asked innocently her eyebrow raised.

Walter walked over to her a mischievous expression on his face, and Flora backed up against the wall remembering the last time he had that expression on his face she'd ended up crawling over the Earls marriage bed trying to get away from him. "Walter please!" She started her hands held out in front of her, "remember where we are, your office and anyone can see!" She blurted out darting around his desk towards the door.

Walter waited for a moment before darting forward and stepping in front of her. "You surely don't expect to get away that easy!" He replied grasping her round the waist before sitting down in his fireside easy chair and pulling her down with him till she was perched precariously on his lap and had to fling her arms round his neck to stay there. "So if I'm not going to get any afternoon tea from now on what are you planning to do with me in the afternoons?"

Flora smiled cheekily before leaning down and kissing him quickly, no longer caring about the windows or the staff catching them. "That's sounds like a plan to me!" Jarvis added, winking cheekily, before releasing her. Flora got to her feet and checked hair quickly in the mirror, much to Walter's amusement before sweeping out of the room without another word. Jarvis stretched out in his chair for a moment, smiling to himself, with Lady Caroline gone the house would be virtually empty with few callers giving him time to formalise his plans for his and Flora's departure. Striding over to his desk he pulled out some writing paper and began the belated letter to his mother.

As the lower servants were filling out of Jarvis' office, a rather un-expected hand seized Will's arm as he walked down the corridor toward the nearest flight of stairs. The hand pulled him into a doorway, at which he almost his balance, falling on to the (luckily) closed door to steady himself. As the hand slipped away into the shadow which the doorway cast on one side, his eyes followed in its direction and as he slowly raised his eyelevel he saw to whom the hand belonged just stepping into the light.

His initially defensive sentiment towards whoever had pulled him aside melted away when he saw Lizzie standing in front of him. "Steady on Liz!" he mused with one of his boy-ish cheeky grins, which he still hadn't been able to shake now that he had reached under-butler status.

"Sorry!" Lizzie light-heartedly apologised, with a little snigger. After leaving her father's watchful eye from the orangery, Lizzie had snuck up to the main house library (something she wouldn't normally have done, but as everyone was in the staff meeting and Lady Caroline and the Earl barely ventured out of their rooms as they were hardly on speaking terms, she thought to herself, why not?) She'd finished the last page of her book of poems (which Adams had guessed quite correctly that she was reading), and decided to try a novel this time.

She soon found Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, as she had began to read this in secret at Balmoral, but had the book confiscated from her, as her stuffy traditionalist superiors disapproved of its contents. Consequently, she never got to finish it, never got to see what happened to the seemingly dastardly Heathcliff in the end. However, it was in thinking of his character, one so changeable and quite misunderstood, her thoughts were brought back to the situation with Will's dad, surely he could not be quiet so terrible as he appeared.

Whereas she in no way condoned his acts towards his wife and child, her heart sank to think of what Will's childhood had been, she did however, believe that everyone should have the chance to make amends, or at least try to before it was too late, as not doing so could lead to further unrest. She didn't want Will to end up a tortured soul, so on placing the book back onto the shelf after half an hour or so, she ventured downstairs to find him.

When she did so, she discovered that the staff meeting was still going on, it must've started late she assumed, unless she had misoverheard the start time. For a second, she thought of strolling into the meeting, to ensure that she couldn't miss Will, but on re-thinking the idea of attending a staff meeting on her afternoon off, she decided to wait patiently around the corner, where she had then found him.

"So" Will started rather sheepishly, "Can we have that word now?"

"Just the one you wanted was it!" she teased.

"Well, if that's all the time you can spare me!" he (jokingly) huffed, turning on his heels.

But before he could move a step, Lizzie shot him a 'you don't get away with it that easily' as she took hold for the same arm, turned the door handle, and dragged him into the room. She left him to close the door behind them, as she strode over to the other side of the room, looking purposefully out of the window, informing Will that "Before you start, I have a few things to say too"

Having only partially heard this, instead of waiting to hear what she wanted to express, Will started, before he had chance to stop himself. On closing the door, he had switched onto autopilot to ensure he would not lose his nerve. "Lizzie McDuff, for sometime now I've come to feel for you a … a…" He was struggling, as in his haste, he hadn't actually come up with speech, and now it was crunch time, he desperately didn't want to fumble it. "A deep and caring friendship, one that"

But before he could continue, Lizzie spoke up, nodding her head in agreement "I know, I know"

'Wow, that was easier than Id thought!' Will thought to himself. 'But how could she know, I hadn't made it THAT obvious had I!'

Slipping into reminiscent mode, Lizzie recalled fondly "When I arrived here, it was you and Grace who took me under your wings, helped me through the whole business with my father. And when you trusted me with the truth about yours … I just think …. (smiling) its special that we connect in such a way"

Not knowing quite what to make of this, and despite deeply wanting to voice what he himself had intended to say, Will let her continue.

Seeing that she had his full attention, she decided to pursue her intended course. "I mean, it wasn't easy for me, so I can't imagine what it must be like for you, with things left as … unresolved as they are."

By now Will was beginning to see where this was going, so quickly moved to prevent her from going any further on the matter. "Liz, theres nothing unresolved about it, I told you, its all behind me now" he said quite calmly, but with a hint of anxiety, as he stepped towards her.

"How is it!" she moderately exploded. "Tell me Will, how on earth is it all well and good when your father is but a few miles away?"

"As long as he stays there-"

"So your saying its out of sight, out of mind are you? I think we both know that isn't the case." Lizzie reasoned.

For a few moments, the two just stood there, both with a slight look of anger on their faces, both too stubborn to back down, instead, seemingly trying to stare each other out.

"That theory doesn't work very well does it, as he's not always out of sight, your sight maybe, but not mine!" she reminded him, breaking the ice.

"Well, lets here it (he cried, striding around the room in an exaggerated manner, his left hand on his hip, his right extended towards her as he gave a little bow), what would you have me do my lady?"

Seeing this gesture for the mockery that it was, Lizzie huffed, before calming herself down, as by know she had found out that it was charm and not criticism which won Will over. "I would have you talk to him" she began, but paused at Will's scoff. She gave him an 'at least here me out' stare, before continuing. "Well at least try to converse with him, if only to get him to move on. Don't you see, he's not going to go anywhere until he's seen you"

Will opened his mouth, but before he could reiterate his as long as he keeps away argument, Lizzie carried on, walking over to him, stopping only a few inches away. "I'm not asking that you forgive him, (brushing a lock of his hair back that hung down the centre of his forehead) not even that you tolerate him, (running her fingers through his hair) just that you hear what he seems so determined to tell you (her hands coming to rest on the back of his neck, caressing it gently), so that you really can move on, (looking him straight in the eye) and get on with your life"

A rather large gulp marked his realisation that her persistence was a measure of her commitment to the cause, and that she wouldn't be content until he had done what she was asking, which at that moment in time, he found not as detestable a chore than he had previously thought. "Your not going to let this go are you?" he questioned, as he slid his arms around her waist.

Her face smiling into his, she shook her head slightly and whispered "Not for a second" as she manoeuvred onto her tip toes, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.
Not a second after her lips left his skin, he drew her into a hug, his head firmly pressed against hers, almost trying to draw the strength he would need to face his father from her touch.

After a few moments, he released her, brushing his hand down her left cheek as he did so. Her eyes flickered between his, before she turned slowly, not loosing eye contact for as long as possible. She opened the door and moved to the other side of it, Will watching he all the way, but turned to peak round it, locking herself in the under-butler's gaze just once more before she returned to her duties.

When she had closed the door, Will was left alone with his thoughts. Had he just missed his chance yet again, or was that embrace confirmation of things moving forward between the two? But whichever it had been, she had made pretty clear that it wouldn't get very far unless he got rid of his pathetic excuse for a parent. On leaving the room and returning to his own duties, though he had convinced himself it had to be done, at that moment in time, he had no idea how.