Servants Series 4

by ss9

Can Flora recover from the tragedies of series 3? How will Walter react and will Will be able to safely avoid the butler's wrath? And who is this glamourous Scottish beauty who is causing quite the stir amoungst the male members of staff?

2. Episode 2

Lower Servants gathered round for breakfast, Mr Adams sat at head of the table, Grace sitting between George and Will, the two lads having taken it upon themselves to act as her personal bodyguards. They had been waiting in the corridor outside the maids' room for her this morning and had followed her everywhere since then; one of the lads had even stood in the room whilst she made the bread for the family's breakfast. However despite this Grace was still uneasy, the idea that just round the corner Frank could be standing waiting for her made her tremble in fear.

She wondered now how she could ever have had feelings for him, why had she ever agreed to marry him? Looking over at George, who kept glancing at her a worried expression on his face, she realised she had never loved Frank, not really loved him. How could she have? The feelings she felt for George were by comparison so much stronger, at his request she would gladly leave Taplows, true she would be sad to leave but it would be far more painful to loose him.

However this did not make her feel any easier; the knot of fear in her stomach was in fact getting worse not better. A small part of her wished Frank would just show up now so that she could get it over with. She knew everyone was worried about how she would react when brought face to face with her attacker and it touched her the level of consideration and concern people were showing her; even Charlotte had made an effort, Grace had overheard the girl's prayer that morning and was surprised to hear her own name mentioned.

Despite all this support she still felt sick to her stomach, in such a large house it wouldn't be hard for Frank to get her alone and the thought of him finishing what he started all those months ago made her quake in fear. She rather die than let him touch her again, but it was this scenario that played on her mind constantly till she wanted to scream out loud.

Looking down at her untouched plate she pushed it away, noticing that she hadn't taken a bite George leant over and whispers in her ear reassuringly, "don't worry Grace, Will and I will keep an eye on you all day, we won't leave you alone for more than five minutes."

"That's right mate!" Will added quickly before returning to his bacon.

"Don't be daft George, how can you and Will look after me, you know Adams he'd never stand for it."

"I mean it Grace; I'm not leaving you unprotected whilst that monster is walking around here!"
Grace smiled at his words but at the same time tears sprang to her eyes; he really must love her to risk the wrath of Andrew Adams. She leant forward and placed a tender kiss on his cheek not caring who saw.

"My My, standards round here must really be slipping! Obviously the decline in fortunes has been accompanied by a decline in morality!" Echoed a voice from above.

All of the staff stopped eating to glance up at the balcony where an incandescent Frank was standing glaring down at the people below, specifically Grace and George. His fury at the obvious intimacy of their relationship was evident, so much so he didn't hear Adams's greeting until it is repeated in a much louder voice.

"Good Morning Sir!"

"Who the devil are you?" Frank shot back his confusion obvious to all.

"Mr Adams, Under-Butler." Adams replied puffing out his chest.

"But…." Frank began his gaze drifting to Will then back to Adams, realisation dawning, "I see delighted to make your acquaintance Mr Adams I am Mr Keneally lord Julian's Valet, although most people here will remember me as your predecessor. If you don't mind Mr Adams may I borrow one of your staff, it's amazing how much has changed in such a short time and I could do with someone to show me where things have been moved to."

"Of course sir!..Will!" Adams bellowed causing the young footman to wince slightly at the volume, but before Adams could continue Frank cut in.

"Oh there's no need for a footman, after all it's not like you have them to spare, no I'll borrow a maid if you don't mind, Grace would be perfect if she could be spared from her duties?"

"Ah well.." Adams began, "I dunnie know about a maid after all they're Mrs Ryan's responsibility." He hedged trying to ignore both the pleading looks sent to him along the table by both Grace and Lizzie.

"Come now man I won't keep her long!" Frank cut in sharply, his voice dangerously low and clipped. "Just long enough!" He added softly, his eyes locking on Grace's before he winked suggestively, causing the maid to shudder in revulsion.

For a moment Adams stood there umming and urring unable to think up a decent excuse for the maid, quailing under the intensity of Franks stare, the valet's gaze was locked with Adams's, peering down at him as if he were something small and nasty he was examining under a microscope. Adams was trapped and could feel little beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and he had to resist the urge to dab at them with his handkerchief. "Well I suppose…"

"Excellent!" Frank replied before Adams could finish. "I'll expect her momentarily." With that he turned and swept out of the room leaving a worried and pale Grace behind.

A few moments later and the room was still unusually quiet, the only noise was the clink of cutlery against china, everyone's heads were down and no one was speaking the only exchange was that of worried glances across the table. Suddenly Grace got to her feet and shaking off George's restraining hand marched determinedly out of the lower servants hall and up the stairs towards the Upper Servants dining hall. Her intention had been to find Mrs Ryan before Frank found her, after all Mr Adams did have a good point it was Mrs Ryan who had final say over the maids duties and if Mrs Ryan said she had too much work to do then someone else would be assigned to show Frank around. She was just about to knock on the door when suddenly someone roughly grasped her elbow and dragged her down the corridor.

"Come on now my dear, there is much to do!" Frank hissed nastily in her ear as he hurried her down the back corridor and off towards the main body of the house, far away George, Will and Mrs Ryan.

At first Grace struggled but Franks grip was like iron and he refused to let her go, quickly escorting her to their destination. When they reached his room he opened the door and flung her in like a rag doll locking the door behind them and removing the key, which he placed in his breast pocket.

After breakfast, Adams is sitting at his desk, ripping into a letter having raced past Fred, who had tried to stop him in order to ask him where he had put the silver polish as he had been the last one to (rather vigorously) use it the previous day. Adams had taken no notice of the startled footman, his mind firmly on the contents of the letter. With Lady Caroline's wedding approaching he is convinced the letter will contain details of a long-awaited visit not too long in the distant future, so anyone, especially a subordinate, who may attempt to accost him in the corridor had no chance. Even the Earl himself would probably have found difficulty attracting his attention. Adams pulls open the letter, scanning it quickly until a broad smile creeps over his face and he chuckles to himself.

Adams gripping the letter tightly: Tomorrow? Of course, the engagement party.

He is even more delighted to read that Rebecca would indeed be staying right up until the wedding – there was not much point in her returning up to Scotland as the journey would take a number of days, so she with little better to do thought it best to stay at Taplows until the Big Day. She has a lot to catch up on with Lady Caroline, she writes, as well as making up for lost time with a certain servant whom she has been missing dreadfully. Typically, the first thought to go through Adams' mind is that from the sound of it his luck was in, and there is every chance of a bit of nocturnal action to be had with Her Ladyship if they are careful, but then his more well-hidden emotional side takes over and he wonders whether he would still feel the same about her. He has a sneaking suspicion he will be even more besotted with the creature than before, every detail of her perfect face and body still etched onto his mind from those heady nights of unadulterated passion they experienced together up at Highlands, in the few weeks before he left. Holding that pleasing thought he rises from his chair, whistling, and exits.
"Please Frank let me go!" Grace pleaded.

"Now Now my dear, calm yourself…." He replied walking towards her, Grace backed away until she was pressed up against the wall, "after all why would I want to harm a hair on your head? Hmmmmm" He asked brushing his hand softly against her cheek and rubbing a loose strand of hair gently between his fingers. "You know me Grace, why would I want to hurt something so lovely?" He whispered leaning in against her, his hot breath on her cheek.

"Leave me alone!" Grace whimpered.

"Well of course my dear if that is what you really want!" Frank replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he sauntered away from Grace and slumped elegantly down into his desk chair; reaching into one of the drawers he removed a beautifully wrapped parcel. Standing up slowly he wandered back over to her and held the package out to her, his trademark half smile pulling at his lips. Grace looked in bemusement from Frank to the proffered item, her expression a mixture of fear and bemusement.

"Come now Grace, its not going to bite you. After all that we've have been through together we still have to live and work in the same household, and I didn't come back her for any sort of revenge on you, lets just call this my way of showing you that I mean it!"

However still Grace was not convinced, if he had really had a change of heart and wanted to forget their past then she was willing to let it go, but… "But why should I believe you? You dragged me in here, why not bring tell me this in the scullery, you could have given me the present anywhere there was no need to bring me to your room?" She stuttered, her voice quaking with latent fear, which only intensified as Frank came closer once more stopping only scant inches from Grace, invading her personal space and forcing her back against the wall, pressing the parcel into her hand.

"Grace, Grace, my sweet naïve girl, do you really think you would have stayed long enough to listen to me given the choice? Or do you think we would have been left alone long enough? No those pesky interlopers would have put a stop to that, I doubt that young scallywag you're mixed up with would have left you alone long enough, can't say that I blame him! I bet the pair of you are always up to some sort of mischief, after all its not like your loved up superiors noticed a con artist when they saw one, so a couple of missing servants would hardly alert suspicions! Somehow I doubt very much you're the same love struck innocent beauty that captured my heart!" He added brushing his hand her cheek and tracing the outline of her jaw, his eyes locked firmly on her lips his breathing quickening slightly. Then just as Grace thought he was going to kiss her he pulled away and paced to the other end of the room.

"Probably a good thing, one of your most attractive qualities was that fresh innocence of yours, it made me fall for you, so it's probably best for everyone that is gone forever." He added maliciously his eyes raking knowingly up and down Grace's body, a slight leer distorting his handsome face, causing Grace to flush with embarrassment.

Then he reached into his pocket and strode across the room, unlocking the door and opening it just wide enough for Grace to squeeze past him, "there you go my dear that was all I wanted with you….At least for the moment! However if I need you again I'll be sure to call and you be sure to come scurrying along, after all there is a hierarchy to respect."

Then as Grace brushed past him, his arm shot out anchoring her to the spot for a moment and he leant down and hissed poisonously in her ear. "Is it still hard on you my dear, you used to tell me how much you hated having to wait on others, having to place their opinions above your own? Of course had you left things could have been so different, you could have been the one giving the orders not obeying them. But then again you must have adapted by now, you're certainly getting the practice, I'm surprised you haven't been promoted faster, serving as you do both day and night!"

Disgusted Grace shook off his hand and stormed off down the corridor, Frank stood for a moment transfixed by the sight, then he called out after her. "The problem my dear is who you've chosen to service, may I suggest for the sake of your career you set your sights little higher after all its better to work directly under the organ grinder than his little monkey. Of course knowing how determined and resourceful you can be you're probably already giving both a good seeing to."

The arrangements for the engagement party are now under way, and under Lady Caroline's instructions it is to be nearly as lavish as the wedding itself, so downstairs it is all hands to the pump with little time to stand and discuss personal matters, although there is much relief that the first of the guests aren't arriving until the next day.

Jarvis and Flora are having a very brief business meeting about it, conducted in Jarvis' office, the two of them standing with the table in between them and both glaring at each other throughout. Adams is present of course, but his thoughts are very much concentrated elsewhere and only vaguely notices the obvious animosity between the couple. The meeting is now drawing to a close, and Adams is staring at the ceiling.

Jarvis walking towards the door, as Flora turns quickly to him: So I would appreciate it, Mrs Ryan, if you could keep your maids in check. I will most definitely be keeping a very tight rein on my footmen! With Mr Adams' help, of course.

Flora huffs, rolling her eyes as Jarvis looks impatiently at Adams who hasn't heard a word of it
Jarvis: Mr Adams!

Flora not waiting for Adams' response: I am sure, Mr Jarvis, it is not my maids which can be the problem! As I have said before, you men have been put on this earth to manipulate us women just to get us into bed, damning the consequences. Don't tempt me to reinforce my white line, because I will!

Adams suddenly clicks out of his trance at the phrase 'get us into bed', staring first in shock then in surprised amusement at the housekeeper's outburst. He glances from Flora to Jarvis to gage his reaction, and unsurprisingly his expression is thunderous

Jarvis as if Adams isn't there, grabbing her arm and speaking harshly: I only meant, Mrs Ryan, that we need to stop any of the servants from slacking off work, I hardly see the need for your bloody line again. Anyway, I doubt very much it will be taken any more seriously than the first time you enforced it, under the current circumstances, do you!

Flora, disgusted, shakes his grip and shoots a glance at Adams, who is smirking away

Flora tears beginning to well up as she backs out of the door: Well, I will leave you two to have a good laugh at silly old Flora while she's gone! Just like the good old days, eh! If Felix was here……..

Instead of trying to placate her, Jarvis grunts angrily, sweeping past her, indicating to a confused Adams to follow him. Flora, unable to speak to Jarvis freely because of the under-butler's presence, stops in the doorway, determined not to cry. Jarvis wonders for a minute whether he is in fact becoming rather immune to Flora's tears, it seems once again such a regular occurance lately.

Adams in a smug aside to Jarvis: Seems like her chastity belt is well and truly back on

An hour or so later, the word is spreading that an arrival is imminent. Johnny has just returned from town saying a rather elaborate carriage is on its way in the direction of Taplows, and this causes immediate excitement amongst the lower servants, and panic amongst the upper staff. Jarvis quickly informs Cook to prepare the bird tonight instead of tomorrow due to unexpected guests, and Adams' heart leaps for joy at the prospect of who the arrival might be, running around frantically looking out of windows upstairs to try to get a glimpse of anyone approaching. This bizarre behaviour is beginning to perturb Jarvis greatly, so when a carriage can be seen in the distance clattering up the estate he sends a hopping Adams to go and inform the Earl of the imminent arrival

Adams his face falling as he tries to think of an excuse to greet them: But….but don't you need me? They may have a lot of luggage……..
Jarvis exasperated: No doubt there will be enough footmen on hand, unless you would like to become one again! Please Mr Adams, for once today can you go and make yourself useful?

Almost tutting out loud, Adams turns on his heels and stalks off, leaving Jarvis, Will and George to greet the approaching arrival as if there is no surprise at them turning up early.

When she arrives and steps out of her carriage Will, George and Jarvis can't help but stand gobsmacked, their jaws dropped in awe of her beauty. Indecent thoughts suddenly spring to Will's mind, which he tries to suppress immediately as he mutters 'wham, bam thank you mam' so it is just audible to George. For a moment all three of them can, in a dream-like trance, visualise her stepping out and untying her hair, then shaking her head in slow motion so her firey-red tresses flow down her back as she winks at them, giving them a little wave before blowing each of them a kiss from those lucious, perfect lips and whispering 'hello, boys' in a sultry Scottish brogue. Jarvis sees her sexily saunter up to him, then teasingly running her hand through his hair before stroking his cheek and jaw and nibbling his ear…….

Rebecca her hands firmly clasped in front of her, an eyebrow raised, trying to get the butler's far-away attention: Mr Jarvis is it? Hello? Are you the butler?

She has noticed that the two footmen seem rather incapable of doing much either, so wonders for a minute if there is something desperately wrong with the water so far south of the border, but just in the nick of time Jarvis snaps out of his dreamlike trance to see her tapping her foot, her coachmen looking slightly puzzled as they pull her rather numerous bags and trunks off the carriage.

Jarvis clearing his throat, slightly embarrassed at the sudden spell she put over him: Lady Farquarson, I do apologise. Yes I am Mr Jarvis. Mr Forest! Mr Cosmo! Make yourself useful!

Both footmen snigger slightly, making a very quiet comment to each other about the Lady and what they would very much like to do to her. Rebecca smiles to herself, glancing up at Taplows and realising she loves it straight away. Looking back at Jarvis, she shakes her head slightly as she climbs the steps after him

Jarvis showing her the way through to the hall, trying to regain his professionalism: His Lordship will be with you momentarily, Your Ladyship.

Rebecca Her beautiful eyes lighting up, a naughty twinkle appearing in them as she leans in slightly to Jarvis in an almost girlish manner: I thought it was you, out there on the steps, as my carriage pulled in. You are quite a legend now with the servants at Highlands, and good on you is what I say!

She winks at him as Jarvis looks at her in shock, not really knowing how to respond to such words from a Lady

Rebecca her tone turning wistful: Well, you only get one life, so live it, I say.

Jarvis the situation too awkward for him to bear: Dinner will be served at half past seven, and cook is preparing some delightful game I hope Your Ladyship will approve of……….

But Rebecca had stopped listening to the butler after the word 'served' as the Earl is heading down the stairs, but more importantly with the under-butler following behind. Adams pauses on the stairs momentarily, his heart caught in his throat, and for a second he is sure it stopped beating. His knees buckle slightly as he stares in excitement and joy at the sight of Rebecca Farquarson looking silently up at him, her electric blue eyes capturing his. For this moment, the Earl and Jarvis have melted away, but quickly Rebecca notices that the Earl has given her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. Not for the first time, Adams is desperately jealous of the Earl, but their eye contact has not broken, Adams emersed in her beauty. She is more gorgeous than he remembers, wanting her there and then, but all he can do is follow the Earl down the stairs as Lady Caroline's squeal is heard, and she comes running up to Rebecca, flinging her arms around her neck

Lady C High-pitched and over-excited: Becca! You're here early! Oh how marvellous to see you!

She begins wittering on about weddings, but Rebecca can only manage a brief hug back and a word or two about her journey before Caroline whisks her away to look at a drawing of her wedding dress, and the Earl goes in search of his next drink and to scour the newspapers AGAIN for any reports of a Fiffington-Piffles sighting.

Adams grinning as he approaches Jarvis: She is most definitely the beauty, is she not?

Jarvis, to Adams' surprise, doesn't scowl at him as normal and tell him to watch his tongue, but instead stands and nods in agreement with him, amazed at the woman's free thinking

Jarvis: Indeed she is, Mr Adams. And to think that you worked for her.

He shoots an almost cheeky glance at Adams, who straightens up, looking serious, for a brief moment feeling like Jarvis knows something. He knows this isn't possible, however, putting it down to a bit of a guilty conscience. There is another bizarre emotion Adams hasn't felt for a long time – two in one day, he ponders as Jarvis exists. Smiling he concludes that he must be losing his touch, before leaving to find a solitary corner to work out exactly when, not if, he is going to go to Rebecca's room that night

Its approaching dinner time now, and three of the Earl's five footmen are at present flaked out in their dressing room, attempting to recharge their batteries before their evening meal and subsequent night duties (all infinitely welcoming the former over the latter) Whilst the ever-conscientious George is powdering his wig, blissfully unaware of Grace's little tryst with Frank, Will and Fred (the latter also having been roped into unloading Lady Farquharson's belongings) were sat on chairs, their feet resting on the large wooden table in the centre of the room.

George had already scolded them for doing so, but far from heeding his message, they persisted to remove their boots and placed their feet back onto the table - as you can imagine, the aroma was far from pleasant, not that these two would notice, they were leant back, only George sat upright at the table, getting the full force of the stench. "Come on, its alright for you, Im the one who has to smell them!" George asserted, pushing Fred's feet off the table.

This didn't deter Fred, who placed them straight back again, professing with exaggerated satisfaction, folding his arms, "Georgie boy, when you get to First Footman, you'll get the privilege"

"Well, how come Will is then?" George retorted sarcastically, nodding at their companion who looked as if he were just about to doze off.

For a second, Fred was stumped, but before this became apparent to George, he quickly answered "Well Adams has had him on night duty last night, and every other night since he's been back with us, just give him a break" However, typical Fred, never to give a straight answer, continued

"Anway, he's a useless lump when he is awake, so we may as well just leave him there for all the good he does!"

George was content with this, and continued to brush his wig, adjusting the green bow, whilst Fred leaned back and clasped his hands behind his neck, groaning as he tried to make himself comfortable, he wouldn't minded forty winks either.

However, this lasted all of a minute or so, when George, being a little slow as usual, piped up "Talking of lumps - could our Scottish maiden HAVE anymore bags, I counted up to 21-"

"Probably because you couldn't remember what comes after that!" Fred quipped, opening one eye to look at George. "Nah mate, there were much more than that, all shapes and sizes, god knows what she's got in some of them - but I wouldn't mind finding out, would you?" he said suggestively, which brought a smile to both of them.

Suddenly, George stopped himself, and as if he were programmed to do so, checked over the room to see if Grace was around before answering "Well no I wouldn't actually"

"Ahhhh!" Fred teased, opening both eyes wide and pointing an accusing finger at George.

"Come on, I mean she is a bit of a looker isn't she?" George replied in a philosophical manner.

"Yeah, she's a bit of alright, think we must be a bit deprived down here, with ladies like THAT living north of the border!"

"And what, in you opinion sir, would those ladies be like?" an unfamiliar, but distinctively Scottish voice enquired.

On hearing the voice, both footmen swung round to gage the view of to whom it belonged, Fred hauling his legs down off the table, using the arms of the chair to help him sit up right. The voice was female, but certainly wasn't Lizzie's as she'd never refer to Fred as sir, even following his ascension to first footman. Both concluded that it must therefore have been the show stopping Lady F, fully expecting to see her angelic frame and flowing auburn hair on turning to face the door. However, what actually met them was a somewhat blander figure.

She had the same basic features, blue eyes, fiery red hair, but with a much duller finish. She certainly didn't have the clothing of a great lady, hers were browns and greys, as opposed to the others refined and rather luxurious gown. Their smiles were dampened on seeing this rather 'Plain Jane' standing in the door way. "Well, were you expecting the queen of sheeber?" she continued, as if she'd read their minds.

"Who, what…?" George started, still not having grasped the fact that she wasn't the same beauty that had arrived an hour ago.

Fred was a little quicker off the mark, but only because the lady in question was staring at him, quite oddly, so he thought it best to strike up a conversation to deter her from doing so. "What my esteemed colleague means is, what can we do for you miss….?"

"Oh" suddenly remembered that she hadn't introduced herself. "Douglish"

"That's a funny name for a maid isn't it!" chirped up Will, how had been roused from his light slumber.

She hadn't seen Will sitting in the corner up until that point, so jumped when his voice startled her. "Oh, no, no" she whittered nervously, looking at each footman in turn, but then again fixing her stare upon Fred. "That's not my forename-"

"Then what is it?" Fred spoke courteously to her, though his patience was wearing a little thin.
This went unnoticed by the new arrival, who seemed quite taken that it was Fred who asked her.

"My name is Isobel"

Will hadn't failed to notice her manner towards Fred, so decided to stir things up saying "Oh, that's quite a pretty name, isn't it Fred?"

"Fred" Isobel let out with a little sigh, quickly recovering "So, your name is Fred then?" with a hu-hum, but still looking at Fred as if he were the most mouth-watering desert.

"Urgh, yes" he answered, with a fearful tone, and most confused look on his face, which didn't seem to discourage the young lady's gaze. "And this is Will" he said in a strained tone, shooting him a 'thanks a bunch mate' look at his friend, whilst Isobel's head was turned.

Quickly it turned back, so Fred launched into an introduction of George, who, having decided to help Fred out (as he couldn't risk him telling Grace of his comments on Lady F), asked her "Well, what brings you here then?"

"Well, Im Lady Farquharson's maid"

"Well we guessed that much!" Fred scoffed. When Isobel looked a little hurt and embarrassed at the tone in which that was said, Fred back peddled "What we mean is, what are you doing here, in the footman's dressing room?"

"Well, I had no idea that's what this room is, I had no idea Id find you in here, shirt untucked, button undone…" she said breathing heavily, until her breath ran out, at which point she was looking at Fred very oddly indeed.

At this, both Will and George exchanged looks, and could hardly contain themselves, whilst her focus of attention writhed in his seat, shooting them filthy looks.

After a few moments, she came out of her trance like state, looked a little sheepish at expressing herself so openly (not that she realised the half of it), and continued "Well, I was looking for a
Mrs Regan, I understand she's the housekeeper here."

For a second, all three just looked at her as if she was a visitor from Mars, but Isobel was oblivious to this, as she was oblivious to her mistake, and still had one eye, and half of her wits concentrated on Fred.

"You must mean Mrs Ryan!" Will exclaimed.

"Mrs who?"

"Mrs Ryan, she's the housekeeper here" Will corrected her.
Isobel looked quite confused at this, looking around the faces, hoping one (rather one in particular) would enlighten her.

At this, George decided to be kind to Fred, walking over to Isobel, taking her arm, and leading her out the door, assuring her that Mrs Ryan was her name, and he knew where she could be found. However, showing her to the door was proving more difficult as he'd expected, due to the fact that the poor, misguided maid kept looking forlornly over her shoulder at Fred, who could no longer keep eye contact anymore, being so embarrassed, for once in his life, appearing a little pinkish. Quite the opposite of him, was will, who slumped back down into his chair, and once the door was firmly shut, doubling over, laughing hysterically at his friend's misfortune

Adams hesitates slightly outside of Rebecca's room. It is approaching midnight and he is unsure if she is awake or still accustomed to the early nights she had sought before their affair began. He had better be quick about it, he concludes, before the Earl decides to go wandering about looking for malt or Lady Mary hurries down the corridor in search for 'Algie'. For once, he really did feel sorry for Jarvis. No self-respecting man needs a wrinkly mad old bat trying to get into his trousers. Dismissing that awful thought immediately, Adams raises his fist to tap on the door. He is sure that Rebecca's faithful Lady's maid Isobel is safely tucked up in the servants quarters, so taking a deep breath he knocks lightly. For a minute there is no response, so with a heavy heart

Adams turns to leave, but just as he does so the door creaks open and a delicate pale face peeps out. Before he can say a word, a hand appears and grabs his jacket, pulling him inside the room, the door shutting firmly behind him. The smell of her ever so familiar perfume fills his nostrils as he sees her standing before him, a small smile on her lips while dressed in a simple silk white nightdress draped loosely over her corset. Her hair is flowing freely down her back and over her shoulders, and to Adams she looks like a goddess, or an angel.

Rebecca stretching her arm out and cupping his face gently with her hand: Oh Andrew, how I have missed you. I saw the way you kept looking at me at dinner. I was so desperate for you to come to me tonight, I had almost given up hope.

Adams closing his eyes and touching her hand with his: I would never let you down, you know that……

Adams nearly bites his tongue at these words, and seeing the hurt in Rebecca's eyes he sighs, waiting for the questions to come tumbling out, but instead it is if she doesn't want to spoil what could be a perfect night – the whys could come later, tomorrow maybe, but for now words aren't needed. Gently pulling him close, she leans up and tenderly but forcefully kisses him, and for a moment he remembers the last kiss he encountered. A pang of guilt shoots through his chest as the memory of his encounter with Mrs Stanwick after the summer games flickers across his brain – the groping, the sheer unemotional animalistic lust the clinch brought out of them for that crazy ten minutes. This, however, is different. Rebecca does something to him that he fails to comprehend, he wishes to be tender and loving rather than brash and forceful during their physical moments together, and this feeling consumes him as he gathers his Lady in his arms and kisses her back. For now he has everything – a daughter and a loving, beautiful woman, and he vowed never to let either go again. The fact that he wouldn't ever want either of them to meet, let alone get to know each other, has yet to cross his mind.

Rebecca coming up for air as she runs her hands under his jacket: Oh Andrew, tell me there has been nobody else, please.

Adams unable to shake her gaze: No, nobody else. At all. I've been saving myself for you, my darling, until we could meet again.

He knows that she believes him, and questions why on earth she would do so after all he put her through, but before he can contemplate her naivety any further she gently takes his hand and places it on her chest and he obliges by slowly unlacing her nightdress, hungrily placing kisses on her slender neck as he moves her over to her four poster bed.

Rebecca raising her eyebrows naughtily and indicating to a large trunk in the corner of the room: Andrew, can you guess what is in there?

Adams looking over then smiling, nodding knowingly: Oh yes, I'm sure I can, you little minx.

Rebecca nuzzling his ear: I've brought a number of them, we can have so much fun while I'm here.

Adams chuckles, pushing her onto the bed before crawling down and kissing her toes, then her ankle and up her calf

Adams giving her a little wink: I'm sure we can.

Adams wakes early, his pocket watch reading 5.00 and his body clock telling him it is time to think about thinking about getting up. He glances over at Rebecca sleeping softly next to him, so rolls towards her, smiling before gently brushing her flawless cheek, as white as porcalean, with the back of his hand. This causes her to moan slightly, rolling to face him but still half asleep, and Adams wishes for a moment he can see what she is dreaming about and see if he is there. He lets his hand wander under the sheets, gently running his fingertips along her bare back and thinking how amusing it is that his colleagues are blissfully unaware of his liaison. If only they knew, he thought, that would wipe the smiles off their smug faces, although he chuckled with amusement thinking that with all the noise she made last night he wouldn't be surprised if the whole household had been woken. If only they knew that over the next few weeks he, a mere servant, will be on a regular basis bedding and satisfying one of the most – if not THE most – beautiful and eligible heiresses in the whole of the Scottish isles. This thought pleases him greatly, as he places a soft kiss on the end of his lover's nose.

Adams whispering gently: Rebecca? Rebecca, I've got to go back to my room very soon.

Rebecca stirs, stretching as her eyes flicker open, taking in her surroundings. Smiling at Adams, she leans forward and kisses him firmly, drawing him into a hug.

Adams: Was I up to standard last night?

Rebecca smiles wickedly, nodding emphatically as she runs her foot up his leg and points over to the still unlocked trunk.

Rebecca in a sultry tone, sitting up slightly: I think you know you were, but tonight I want some extra fun, I just need you to decide who you want to be.

Adams kissing her forehead: I am anything you want me to be.

Rebecca giggles as he pushes her back down onto the mattress, moving over her, but her expression turns pouty as she shoves him away.

Rebecca almost in mock anger: I don't think so, is this any way for an under-butler to behave?

Adams looks startled, pulling off her, but suddenly she raises her eyebrow, sitting up and provocatively sliding towards him, running her finger across his lips before pinning him down to the bed.

Rebecca naughtily: Unlike last night, Mr Adams, I think you'll find it's ladies first this time

Ten minutes later, Adams dresses quickly, not taking his eyes off Rebecca for a moment. She sighs then slides out from between the sheets, slipping on her cream dressing gown while humming gently to herself. Reaching the window she pulls back the curtains to let in a ray of autumn sunshine, smiling and gazing over towards the trees. Adams watches her carefully, noticing that her perfect form is silhouetted in the light of the window through her gown. Throwing his trousers on the bed, he walks behind her and gently places his hands on her waist, pulling her backwards and wrapping his arms around her. Moaning slightly she raises her left arm up behind her, running her fingers through his hair. She pushes his head down so his lips meet with her neck, her gown slipping off her shoulder to let him nuzzle and caress along it slowly.

Rebecca breathlessly: Oh Andrew, I must see you during the party.

Adams turning her to face him: Then you shall, my darling.

Rebecca pulling away slightly, her voice stern: You know we need to talk, there is much to be said after all this time.

Adams nods regretably, realising the whole heart-to-heart thing had to happen sooner or later, but why sooner? And surely he doesn't have to tell her EVERYTHING? She can't find out about Lizzie, about how he abandoned her even before her birth, about Jarvis paying off his debt, about Mrs Stanwick….Adams frowns, glancing at his pocket watch and gasping at the lateness of the hour

Adams nuzzling her hair: Aye, you're right, we do need to talk.

Rebecca kissing him, then moving over to the bed and handing him his trousers: Go on, you don't want to be caught, and neither do I! Dear Caroline would surely faint, and I am not sure her poor father would live the day!

Adams grins and finishes dressing, it very obvious to him that she finds her little 'secret' just as thrilling as he does his. With one last kiss and a squeeze of her bottom, he walks towards the door, not for a second wanting to leave her and this luxury for the misery of his own tiny room

Adams Turning, a small smile tugging at his mouth: If Your Ladyship requires any more assistance, then please do not hesitate to ring my bell.

Rebecca saucily, giving him a little sexy wave: Of course, Mr Adams, if I'm in desperate need of being seen to I know you're just the helpful servant to ask. pausing, lowering her voice We don't just have to TALK outside, you know, I'm sure.

As Adams goes to exit, he remembers once again his 'meeting' with Mrs Stanwick

Adams grinning and whispering: And I know just where we can go.

Flora sat at her desk staring hard at the open book of figures that lay in front of, however her real thoughts lay far away from her additions and subtractions, well in truth not far away, more to the point would be out the door and down the corridor concentrating on an occupant in another office. Slamming her pen down in anger and frustration Flora got to her feet, it was no good she was not going to get any work done until they had sorted this business out; Walter had to be made to understand. Quickly she strode down the corridor determined not to chicken out and avoid once again having this conversation with him.

As she neared Jarvis's office she slowed slightly hearing his voice raised as he was obviously bellowing at some poor servant for something or other, hesitating she wondered whether this was the best possible time, pausing outside his door her hand poised ready to knock. However the decision was soon taken out of her hand as the door was opened from the inside and a cowed looking Will emerged his ears red from enduring Jarvis latest petty rant. Surprised to see her standing in his way Will stepped back waiting for her to enter before he himself left, leaving Flora no chance of escape. She smiled grimly at Will as she entered and held the door open for the footman to leave, closing it securely behind afterwards.

"Walter!" Flora began walking towards the Butler who had resumed his seat and his work upon dismissing Mr Forest, and who did not even glance up at her when she spoke, his expression if not his thoughts retaining the same appearance of concentration on his figures. "Walter!" Flora repeated upon gaining not even an acknowledgement from the butler.

"I heard you the first time Mrs Ryan, however I am rather busy if you could get to the point!" Jarvis snapped.

"We need to talk!" Flora replied, relieved that nerves didn't show in her voice.

"Really I would have thought you had the arrangements for this evening's party well in hand by now and unless it is concerning work matters I doubt we have the spare time for such an indulgence." Jarvis countered still engrossed in his work.

"Walter stop it!" Flora yelled slamming her hands down hard in the desk top causing the inkwell to totter dangerously.

"Stop What?" Jarvis asked sarcastically, looking up at the housekeeper for the first time during their conversation.

"This, being like this with me." She replied her voice starting to crack as tears threatened.

"How else do you expect me to behave? Hmmmm….. I mean the distance between us my dear is of your own making, therefore I would have thought it was what you wanted?" He added, leaning back in his chair and looking up at her with an almost mocking expression.

"No I never…" She started but Walter cut her off with a derisive snort as he rose out of his seat and paced in front of the fireplace.

"Well then my darling perhaps you would care to explain. What did you expect would happen when you made decisions about our relationship without even having the decency to consult with me first? If you can call this a relationship?"

"I didn't do this to hurt you!"

"But you did!" Jarvis hissed back. "Losing our child it almost destroyed me as well you know….But did you even consider that? No!...The only thing that kept me going was the need to be strong for you, putting your feelings and well being before my own. And why?…Why?... Because somewhere deep down I had something else to cling to, the idea that eventually we could put that whole incident behind us, that we could move on and still have our family."

"Walter…" Flora began then trailed off, all her arguments forgotten in the face of such a declaration.

"I never thought I could hate you….But sometimes, sometimes…" Jarvis turned and glared at her and Flora trembled at the look of menace on his face, she'd seen it before but never directed at her.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"You're sorry!" Jarvis began in a dangerously voice, "You're sorry?...You damn well should be sorry; this whole mess is of your own making. Before you I was content. I had a good position, I was respected in my profession, now I find out I'm the talk the length and breadth of the country and why? Because of my involvement with you, I'd be lucky to get a job shining shoes in a more respected household."

"Excuse me…But I..." Flora cut in her temper rising.

"Yes because of you! But you've done worse than that! It was bad enough that you've made me a laughing stock amongst my peers, as long as I had the future to cling to nothing else would have mattered but no you had to take that away!"

"Do you know what's the worse thing you've done, you made me want that future. I'd never wanted a family before meeting you, even when I first found out you were pregnant I still didn't want to be a father, but like everything you played me, that business with Felix threatening to take my child away from me, until suddenly it was all I could think about. "

"And now, now all of a sudden you've changed your mind, and so I'm supposed to change mine as well. You don't want to get married or have a family, so I'm supposed to be satisfied with this, well I'm sorry my darling it won't work this time. I've told you before that I'm the man in this relationship; my wishes are those that should determine our future. So you have a straightforward choice Flora."

"What choice?" Flora asked her voice icy.

"Simple my dear, you can either marry me and perform your wifely duties, bearing my children and raising our family or…" Jarvis tailed off his eyes locked on Flora's before continuing.

"Or we can call it a day, put an end to both of our suffering, you can go back to your chastity belt and spinster existence if that is what you desire and I can move on, who knows maybe one day find somebody who understands and supports me rather than manipulating me for her own ends."

"You can't mean it? You're not serious?" Flora asked her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"Deadly serious Flora."

"But you can't mean it? You love me and I love you!"

"Then prove it, do as I ask!"

"You aren't giving me any choice." She whispered despondently.

"On the contrary my dear I have given you a choice, a very clear choice, it just isn't one that you like." Walter countered softly walking over to Flora and grasping her face firmly between his hands. "Yes or No?"

"I….I"

"Yes or No?" He reiterated his eyes boring into hers.

"This isn't fair!" Flora retorted.

"Life isn't Fair! So what did you expect?"

"Walter I CAN'T!"

"No you WON'T, there is a world of difference Flora!"

"You're bluffing, you don't mean it, you wouldn't force me into this?"

"Believe me my dear the frame of mind you've driven me to means I'm capable of many things now I would never believed possible a year ago, even a week ago. This is tame by comparison, I am forcing you to make a choice, true one that you don't want to make but it is a choice none the less. Would you prefer it if I took that away from you, and forced my intentions instead?..." He asked slowly backing her towards the desk, then seizing her wrists and forcing her down against the desktop before kissing her savagely.

However just as suddenly as it began Walter pushed himself off of her, his breathing laboured and he stalked over to the fireplace, his hands shaking as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Thank god I am not that much of a monster yet, but don't push me Flora because I don't think you would want to discover how near to that particular precipice I really am! So I am giving you a choice, give me what I want or leave my sight!"

Shaking and sobbing Flora propped herself up on her elbows before pushing herself up off the desk and raising her fingers to her lips which felt sore and bruised from Walter's kiss. "Why are you doing this? Do you want to destroy us both?" She asked her voice cracking.

"I…I am not doing anything, you are the only destructive force in here and you're trying to drag me down as well, look what you've reduced me to, all I can think about day and night is you, I can't sleep without dreaming of you. The prospect of a future without being able to touch you is worse than death, so you make your choice and let me make mine, one of us will win or lose either way. I'll give you the rest of the day to think it over, if you chose me, then come to my room tonight and prove it, if you don't…. then don't bother to look for me in the morning, who knows I might even be able to succeed where you failed….."

"What?" Flora asked, panic rising in her chest he couldn't mean it she couldn't bear it if he did something so drastic.

"Didn't think I knew, did you? Tell me Flora did you find clarity in the face of death?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "Walter don't so this to us, to me, it isn't fair!"

"Fair?" Walter queried turning to look at her. "You say that so often my dear, I wonder what your basis for comparison is? Nothing is fair, it's not fair that we lost our child, and it's not fair that we are loosing each other and I'm fed up of trying to be fair when the world isn't like that. So why don't you just go, leave me alone, stop taunting me with what I'll never have." And with that he turned and walked over to the door opening it wide for her. Flora followed him reluctantly pausing in front of him wanting to find something anything to say that would make things better between them but coming up with nothing, she hesitated her hand reaching out to rest on his chest.

"Don't touch me!" Walter exclaimed his voice laden with emotion as he hid his eyes from her gaze, "Not unless I can touch you back Flora, as you are so fond of saying that isn't fair!" And with that he ushered her through the door closing it firmly behind her.

A while later, the shell-shocked Mrs Ryan and hard-faced Mr Jarvis have been forced into the same room, neither daring to look at the other, as Lady Caroline strides back and forth in front of her father's desk, reeling off her last minute requests in order to make 'everything just perfect'. Its a wonder either of the senior staff heard one word of this drivel, the housekeeper quietly gulping back the tears, head down, the butler standing up tall, hands clasped behind his back, staring straight forward. This contrast was so obvious to even those who would never give their feelings a second thought, as Lady C had already snapped at Flora for looking like a 'wet weekend'. Lord Julian had been a little more gracious, informing her that she did indeed look 'very ill'.

At these comments, Flora dragged her head up and gave a rather wobbly nod, curling her mouth up at the corners for a second, this was the best smile she could muster, before it slipped away.

However, this hushed response didn't satisfy the Earl (who was already on the port, needing a drink as he thought what this blessed party was costing him, let alone the wedding itself), who didn't look up from the paper he was reading. "Mrs Ryan you're not a mute, Lord Julian is kindly enquiring after your health, see to it that you respond in the appropriate manner"

At this prompting, Flora felt extremely embarrassed, she'd never been spoken to in such a condescending way, there had never been any need, as she had always acted with the utmost decorum. This surreal telling off delayed her answering further, consequently, the Earl threw his paper onto the desk, finally looking at her. True, she did look rather pale, but he wasn't going to have discourtesy from his staff. "Mrs Ryan, when you are asked a question, you are expected to reply forthwith….. Whats the matter with you woman, you're normally so proficient!"

As the focus of the room was not on Jarvis, no one noticed his cheeks reddening as he ground his teeth together, he just couldn't help it, furious at his lordship for disparaging Flora so publicly. He shot a look to his left, where Flora stood, mouth open, but no words coming out. Then he scanned the room, the three aristocrats gawping at her, impatient looks on the Earl and his daughter's faces - he couldn't resist jumping in. "Urgh, Mrs Ryan was complaining of a dizziness earlier."
In unison, all three heads swung round to face him as he continued, quite manner-of-factly "Its nothing a little rest wont alleviate, she has a lot on her mind." emphasising his words towards the end, making sure all present understood this.

"Well if she must, it had better be a quick rest, I simply can't afford to have my housekeeper flittering her time away when she has my rather important social gathering to organise!" Lady C huffed.

At this, Flora eventually shot a look at Jarvis, though it was not one that he had expected. She was livid with him for interfering and asserting his 'male authority' once again- she needed no reminding of the decision he was forcing her to make.

Cut to the grand foyer, where it is now early evening, and the footmen are on stand-by, waiting for the final guests to arrive at this somewhat star studded event. Whilst there wasn't any royalty amongst the crowds, already that evening, they had witnessed the arrival of a number of M.P.s, why the ballroom was a positive who's-who of British politics - mainly Tory of course. By the looks of the guest list, if your surname wasn't double-barrelled, then you simply weren't invited.

The only exceptions to this rule, were those with military honours, indeed, if Taplows was invaded that night, it would have a whole host of Admirals, Commanders and Field Marshals to defend it. These old war heroes were there on Lord Julian's (or rather his father's) request, as were nearly all the other guests, Lady Caroline was obviously moving in higher social circles these days, as Adams could recognise hardly any of them, let alone pronounce their names - which was slightly unfortunate for him, as it was his job to announce the arrivals.

The groom to be's parents, Lord Admiral and Lady Dalrimple-Sykes had been one of the first to arrive. The footmen soon realised that Lord Julian certainly took after his mother, a very petite lady, quiet as a mouse, rather than his father, a strapping (if a little tubby like a walrus) man, with an extremely curly moustache and monocle, dressed in full uniform, complete with tri-cornered hat. As they marched up the steps, their company followed behind, as if still on duty. This mini-regiment consisted of their three other sons and son-in-law (all in navy uniforms, the spitting image of the Admiral, only much younger), escorting their own wives to the ball. After they had disappeared into the reception room, the footmen were left to conclude in their ritual gossiping, that Lord Julian, being the weed he was, wouldn't have lasted beyond the first day of basic training, let alone got anywhere near the helm of a ship. They were all in agreement- he must've been the runt of the litter, probably doted on by his mother, but cast aside by his father when he failed to grasp which was port, and which was starboard from the outset.

At present, Fred and Joe were standing either side of the door to the sitting room, in which drinks were being served before dinner, Will was ferrying everyone's fur and any other type coats from the new arrivals, to the cloak room, George and Johnny were out front, receiving the carriages, and Adams was still struggling to keep pronunciation errors to a minimum.

Cut to the main event itself, with dinner now over, all the guests have been herded into the ball room, where none other than a sixteen-piece orchestra were striking up a rousing baroque symphony. Although this was thought to be highly sophisticated, soon Lady Caroline (shamefully to say a little worse for drink) jumped up and putting on her spoilt little girl tone, announced that they must play a song which one could dance to, before scurrying from table to table, insisting that everyone should participate (no doubt in the Victorian version of YMCA).

Reluctantly, and after a fair few more glasses of champagne, which all five footmen were now offering on trays, Lords and Ladies, Counts and Countesses (and so on, so forth) were shimmying around the dance floor like there was no tomorrow. Lady Caroline had danced with every eligible, and indeed un-eligible man in the room, but had now (after a wise word in her ear from Lady Farquharson) had draped herself quiet comfortably onto Lord Julian, who appeared to be struggling somewhat under the weight.

This fact did not go unnoticed by his father, who was at present drunkenly moaning to Lord Lancaster that his youngest had never been very stocky, and would never have been able to hoist a sail to its full height. The Earl was slumped into one of the arm chairs at the far end of the room, having been given the task of entertaining Lady Dalrimple-Sykes. This was easier said than done, even when sober, as after less than ten minutes, each had exhausted what they planned to say, and were too dull to strike a lasting conversation.

When the champagne began to run low, and people began craving their brandy night-caps, the alcohol distribution was scaled down to only Joe and Johnny. Fred, George and Will had moved to manning the doors, standing their like a trio of bouncers, who had been placed so to make sure people were moving in the right direction towards their rooms.

Adams was stood not too far away, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on the same vision it had all evening. Though as well as being memorised by her beauty, he was partially blinded with rage as he viewed Lady Farquharson dancing with what appeared to be the son of non other than the current PM, the Earl of Derby. His jealousy was alleviated slightly due to the fact that although she was dancing with another, her gaze hadn't left his in a considerable period of time, however, the image of her being so physically close to another man was not one he would wish to sustain.

Suddenly, this link was shattered, as a woman's shriek let out - "OUCH!"

Theirs' and everyone elses heads turned to see Lady caroline hoping around on one foot. Initially they dismissed, it, she'd always been a contrary so and so, but her out burst did not stop at that. "Oh Julian you klutz! That ruddy well hurt!" she screamed at him, rubbing her left foot.

"Im so sorry my darling" Lord Julian started grovelling and didn't stop repeating himself for quite some time as he tried to grasp her arm to steady her.

"Get off me, get off me, you bumbling idiot!" she huffed at full volume, flapping her arms around to prevent him from doing so. "You're a clumsy brute!" she scolded, her tone now at ear-piercing level.

Far from being disgusted with this display of a man being well and truly under the thumb, their company found the whole thing rather amusing, the women seeing Julian as somewhat of a court jester, whist the men thanking god that it was Julian who was taking her as his wife, and not them.

Whilst the commotion, Rebecca, who had long tired of this farce, all these high and mighty snobs, caught Adam's eye again, giving him a sultry smile, deciding to slip away while she had the chance, making her way through the crowds (who were still being thoroughly entertained by the main event involving the intended pair), towards the door which the footmen surrounded. Initially, to Adams surprise, she appeared to be walking straight past him, and indeed she did, but not without giving him a wink and naughty smile, her eyes saying what she dare not speak, urging him to follow her.

However, this look did not go unnoticed by another member of staff, who concluded that it was for him, and wasted no time in informing his colleagues so. "Did you see the way she just looked at me?" gasped Fred "Pure lust that was"

At this, Adams would normally have gone straight for his jugular, but at present was in a deep daze, staring at the last spot he had seen her, just where George was standing, prompting the rather confused footman to leap out of the way. As the latter did so, suddenly Adams snapped back to reality, walking straight up to Fred.

Remembering where he was, he resisted the urge to wring the little twerp's neck, instead, going for the clever approach. "You must be joking laddie, class like that would never in a million years go for a footman."

"Oh, and I spose she'd go for a butler in training would she!" Fred retorted.

Unwilling to be dragged down from his version of heaven, Adams just stalked past the footmen, whispering in Fred's ear "maybe, just maybe" before he made THE lamest excuse of having to report to Mr Jarvis, and following her out at a distance, with the widest smirk that his face had ever experienced.

Of course the remaining three servants had no idea just how true his words had been, a fact Adams was made blissfully aware of, as he heard behind him, Will of all people doing him a favour in saying "Nah, it's the lady's maid for you mate!" At which he and George launched into a fit of hysterics, and Fred stormed off to do 'FIRST footmen duties', which managed to dampen Will's mood, if only a little.

Meanwhile in the scullery Grace was helping Lizzie finish the washing up before they could go and change for the small servants party being held in honour of the engagement and in recognition of everyone's hard work, at least that was Lord Julian's reason for granting permission. Grace shook her head distractedly, somehow she was far from the party mood but if she didn't attend people would start asking awkward questions, ones that she wasn't prepared to answer. It had been hard enough persuading George that actually she was fine and no Frank hadn't threatened her, well not exactly!

That was the problem, if he had acted the way she had expected then at least she would know where she stood, but he hadn't. There were moments when she thought he was reverting to type, moments when he came far to close to her and the feeling of his breath on her skin had her reaching for the sick bucket. But then he had backed off, had even apologised of sorts, and given her a peace offering, that particular package still sat by her bedside unopened. Had it ended then Grace would not be feeling so churned up as she was, but his comments as she was leaving gave her cause to worry. The way he went on about her and George and the nature of their relationship, Grace knew that was hardly a Taplows secret, but still to hear him say it out loud his trademark leer in place it made her feel cheap and nasty. He had reminded her of the girl she used to be, mocking her by holding her own old standards and beliefs and comparing the person she had become against them.

Grace squirmed slightly and put down the dishcloth she was holding, wiping at her forehead distractedly, disgusting as Franks words were he did have a point compared against the mirror of her own ideals she had been found lacking; and what made things worse was the thought not only would society at large condemn her actions, so would her own family. Her mother had worked hard keeping their family out of gutter after her father's death, and had impressed strongly on her girls the importance of both hard work and chastity, she had promised her mother to live by those ideals when she went into service but now she realised she had broken her word. She couldn't bear it if her mother ever learnt the truth, it wasn't her anger that she was afraid of it was just that pained look of disappointment.

"Grace, Grace! Are you done yet? You've been drying that plate for a full five minutes, I think its dry!" Lizzie snapped, waking Grace out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just have a lot on my mind!"

"Humph! Well if you are finished now can we go and get ready, I want to look my best tonight!" Lizzie added cryptically walking towards the door.

"Yes of course!" Grace replied and followed her friend out the door and up to the maids' room; Charlotte had already changed judging by the scattering of clothes on the beds and floor. Suddenly Lizzie's words finally registered with Grace and she looked over to see her friend changing into her nicest dress, the cornflower blue one that brought out the colour of her eyes, and combing her long hair out carefully before artfully arranging it. "Why the need for a good impression Liz?" She asked, having already guessed at the maid's response.

"Oh no special reason…."Lizzie began before trailing off as she lost herself in critically examining her reflection. "Oh Grace, why can't I be pretty like you or elegant like Mrs Ryan or Lady Farquharson? How will he ever notice me, looking like this?" She asked turning her wide eyes to Grace a pleading look on her face.

"Why would you want him to notice you Liz, I thought everything had finished between the two of you?" Grace replied softly.

"Well yes and no, I mean I didn't break up with him, he just said he needed some space…."

"And so you've been ignoring him, like everyone else? Sorry Liz but since our Will isn't a mind reader I doubt he's realised you still like him."

"I didn't mean to, it's just he never looks at me anymore, his eyes just skim over me like I'm part of the furniture, he hasn't found someone else has he?" She asked her voice squeaking in panic.

"Honestly Liz I don't know, Will's been very quiet lately, very few people seem to have anything to do with him the only other woman I've seen give him the time of day is Mrs Ryan and unless she's developing a taste for the younger man I think you're safe." Grace added, her own attention returning to the package in her hands. Sighing she slowly unwrapped the package and then a small cry dropped it into her lap as if it had burnt her.

"Grace, Grace what's the matter?" Lizzie asked as she hurried over to check on her friend.

"Nothing, nothing I'm fine, it was just a surprise."

"Oh their lovely, Grace you're so lucky they must have cost George half his salary?" Lizzie exclaimed as she held up the pair of dainty pearl drop earrings.

"He remembered…." Grace babbled incoherently.

"What, who?" Lizzie asked.

"Frank, I told him years ago how when I was a little girl this lady came and visited our school and I was very young but I remembered she had a pair of delicate little pearl earrings and I went home at told my mama that that was what I wanted from Father Christmas that year and she laughed and told me I'd have to wait a few years. I only told Frank because shortly after I started here I noticed Mrs Ryan had a pair and it

brought that memory flooding back, and he promised me a pair of pearl earrings on the birth of our first child. And now…." Grace trailed off her hands shaking and her eyes filling with tears, "I've already lost my first child."

"There, there Grace" Lizzie added rubbing her hands soothingly up and down the maids back.

Grace picked up her handkerchief and dabbed at her face. "I'm alright Liz, honestly I am they just brought back so many memories."

"Are you going to wear them, to the party I mean?"

"No!" Grace declared, shaking her head vigorously before a strange smile tugged at her mouth, "But you are!"

"Me?" Lizzie exclaimed.

"Yes, you want to stand out, be noticed for your elegance, well these will help!"

"But Grace I can't, you haven't even worn them yet."

"No I haven't and I doubt I ever will. Please Liz do this for me?" Grace added her voice low and wheedling.

"Oh alright then, give them here." Lizzie giggled caving in under her friends gaze and dashing off to the mirror to try them on. "Well?"

Grace laughed, "how can he possibly resist?"

And arm in arm they left the room determined to make the most of their evening.

Once outside, Rebecca pauses, looking back to see if Adams is lurking behind her, but he is nowhere to be seen and she begins to panic that maybe he hadn't taken her hint to follow her. Tutting and rubbing her arms in the brisk night air, she walks a little further out into the darkness, quietly calling his name as the party music fades the further out she walks. Just as she is wondering whether to give up and go back inside, as it is too cold to stand there just for the sake of it, she faintly hears a voice and hurries in its direction, keeping a look-out for prying eyes, until Adams comes into view at the side of the house, hidden in the darkness. He has hardly been near her all night, except once to hand her a drink so he could feel close for just a second and smell her sweet perfume. To see her up close, just now, takes his breath away, and to him she truly looks like a princess.

Her taffeta and satin ball dress is stunning, beautifully made by probably one of the finest dressmakers in Scotland he concludes, with its attractively low neckline, almost off the shoulder, adorned with lace and in a beautiful shade of jade. Her firey red hair is tied back in a bun with small feathers and pearls decorating it, and her face is perfectly shaped with ringlets, her delicate hands sporting exquisite white lace gloves. Clasping her right hand, he raises it to his lips, kissing her knuckles but his gaze never leaving hers. But for the first time he felt completely inadequate - the glove he was touching would cost him a month's wages to buy, and it hit him like a thunderbolt that he would be totally unable to provide for her and her lavish lifestyle, and that their relationship could, in the end, go nowhere. He always knew this was so, but he had never really thought about it until now, he had always been too caught up in the affair to think sensibly.

Adams in a low voice: You look more stunning than ever, Lady Farquharson.

Rebecca frowning and pouting: Oh, how boring most of those ghastly people are in there. I am so sick of men fawning over me. I dream of turning to them and telling them exactly who it is I love and what they can do with their proposals!

Adams looks at her startled, but Rebecca looks away from him, trying not to catch his eye

Adams gently taking her arm: Who has proposed to you, my love?

Rebecca laughing slightly nervously: Oh, the usual faceless aristocrats, nobody of any significance, and certainly not tonight, they all seemed to keep rather restrained over that sort of talk, which has to be a blessing.

She strokes Adams' cheek when she sees the look of jealousy and sadness in his eyes and he buries his face in her hand before whispering breathlessly:

Adams: I love you, Rebecca, and I never want to let you go again.

Before she can muster a reply, he leans towards her and kisses her firmly on the lips, pulling her by her petite waist into a passionate embrace, to which she responds eagerly. They emerse themselves in their clinch for a few minutes before Rebecca pulls back, a look of shock on her face

Adams frowning: What...?

Rebecca her eyes darting, putting her finger up to his lips: Shhhhhh!

Suddenly both release each other on hearing two well-spoken male voices heading towards them, Rebecca grabbing Adams by the hand and dragging him around the corner. They both wait silently, up against the wall, Rebecca gathering her skirts in and begging not to be noticed

First voice in a rather loud, brash voice: Well, I tell you, the old boy seems not all there if you ask me. This sorry business is destroying him, it's a damned disgrace.

Rebecca peers round the corner to see two gentlemen strolling along together in their evening suits, smoking cigars and drinking brandy. She recognises them immediately as Viscount Palmerston, and the current Foreign Secretary George Leveson Gower

Palmerston: I quite agree, it must be very distressing for him, I just hope that a turn of events may see this Fiffington-Piffles impostor with the feeling of rough rope around his neck before the end of the year.

Gower as they strode past the two lovers, the darkness preventing them from seeing either of them: Quite. Now I wanted to talk to you about Gladstone...

Adams whispering and indicating: I know where we can go - round to the servants quarters!

He drags her off, stealth-like, keeping to the side of the house as much as possible. Rebecca giggles with the excitement at being so naughty, her dress so large Adams thinks it a minor miracle that she hasn't been spotted by now, surely it could be seen from outer space, or at least the end of the garden, anyway

Adams on finally reaching the servants courtyard: It's still risky here, but if we were to be discovered I would rather it be by a no-mark servant than the Duke of Marlborough! I want to protect your reputation far more than I want to protect my own, rather battered one.

Rebecca scanning her surroundings, her expression deadly serious: Oh, you cannot tell me for a minute that you are not held in the highest esteem here, surely?

Adams could kick himself, gritting his teeth and shaking his head as his beloved Rebecca looked at him, worried. He had always been surprised that she could see no fault in him, but he had concluded that her good nature did not let her see the bad in people unless it was blatantly obvious or someone had been overtly nasty to her face. He loves that about her, a kind of childish naivety that she will never grow out of, but at the same time being the most sophisticated woman he had ever come across. Not that he came across many in the first place.

Adams shuffling his feet, trying to block thoughts of Lizzie and Will Forest out of his mind : Errr...it's a long story...

Rebecca her confused expression relaxing: Oh, the debt, of course! That is why. You have still to tell me how it was paid.

Phew, thank goodness for debt, Adams thought rather wryly. He knew this question was going to come, so has an answer already pre-prepared. He hates lying, but how can he tell her that he is indebted to the butler for all eternity? He feels quite bad enough about himself and his inadequacies as a human being without adding to it and possibly losing Rebecca at the same time

Adams attempting to look a little sad: Well, an Aunt, who I had been particularly close to growing up, died a little while ago, leaving me with the bulk of the money she had manage to save during her time in service. I had been her favourite nephew so she had left me her wedding ring to give to the woman I married. Sadly I had to pawn the ring in Tappleton, and give all of the money to the debt collectors.

Rebecca grabbing him and hugging him tight: Oh you poor, poor thing. Don't ever gamble again, please, I couldn't bare you to have to lose anything again.

Adams an ingenius line springing to mind as he takes her arms and looks into her eyes: I am taking a gamble for the second time in my life because I don't want to lose YOU again, my love.

Rebecca tears beginning to well in her eyes: You should have come to me, I know I don't have access to much while my father is still alive but I have saved up my monthly allowances and I could have helped!

Adams had never seen Rebecca cry before. He presumed she must have done when he left Highlands, but the thought of sad tears staining her beautiful cheeks as she pined for him to return to her had been too much to bear and he had put it out of his mind. Until now. Her bottled up emotions are becoming too much and she sniffles, letting out a small high-pitched squeak as she fishes out a small embroidered handkerchief from her clutch purse. Dabbing under her eyes daintily, she gulps hard as Adams gently pushes her head up from under her chin, wiping away a rogue tear with his thumb

Adams kissing her nose: I am so sorry, I really am. I was a fool to leave you; to leave without a final goodbye and without explaining. All the time I have been here I've thought of you and I have probably taken out my frustrations on others when I shouldn't.

Lady Farquharson rests her forehead on the under-butler's shoulder while he rubs her back soothingly, a guilty knot forming in his stomach about the secrets he is keeping from her. At the back of his mind the loyalty to the other woman in his life was niggling away - maybe he is being selfish and should spend more time with his daughter, to whom he has so much to make up for, instead of his lover? Dismissing these thoughts as best he can, he is about to get to work on Rebecca's bare shoulders when he hears footsteps. Forcing a stunned Rebecca against the wall, he peers out to see Jarvis entering the courtyard, not looking in the best of moods. He expects him to go storming past, ignoring the shadows hiding away from him, but instead he stops dead, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. Damn, thinks Adams, go away damn you!

Rebecca tugging at Adams' sleeve and whispering: Who...?

Adams turning quickly, wide-eyed: Shhhhh! It's Jarvis!

Adams watches Jarvis puff on his cigar, smoke whisping around his head as he leans back against the wall, obviously in very deep thought. He hangs his head for a couple of minutes, the two lovers desperate for him to leave, then looks up as if somebody has called out for him, throws the cigar on the floor before stamping it out furiously and marching purposefully back into the servants quarters. Adams notes the gritty determination on Jarvis' face and concludes that Mrs Ryan must be in for another ear bashing like during the party briefing, either that or some other poor sod must be going to feel the bad side of the butler's fiery temper.

Adams sighing: He's gone, thank our lucky sporrens!

He turns to Rebecca, who is still up against the wall but is brushing specs of dirt from down her dress. Realising that Isabel maybe wondering where her Lady is, unless she's too busy chasing a particular footman, and that he may soon be missed at the party, Adams moves towards Rebecca to kiss her and tell her he will be along to her room for some fun in a wee while. Lady Farquharson, on seeing him closing in on her, roughly pulls him towards her and locks her lips with his passionately before pulling away slightly, her arms around his neck

Rebecca raising an eyebrow and smiling suggestively: Here. Right now.

Understanding her few words immediately, Adams looks at her first in amazement but then in amusement. Can she be serious? Here? Outside? He remembers Mrs Stanwick again - they weren't caught, so why the hell not? He runs his finger along the shoulder line of the dress, the look of desperation in Rebecca's eyes to have him there and then increasing. Although the night chill is more biting than that of late, their temperatures begin to rise as they resume their furious kissing, before Adams resolves to attempt to find her as quickly as possible under the most beautiful - and the most multi-layered - dress in the world.

An hour or so later and the footman had finally been excused from their duties and had joined the party, grumbling because they would have been there ages ago had Mr Adams returned from his chat with Mr Jarvis. Fred was the most annoyed as it meant that he as first footman had had to bear the responsibility solely on his broad shoulders, and the sudden pressure had made the lad break out into a cold sweat terrified that he'd get people mixed up and send Lady Trumpton to Lord Swinson's room instead of her own. Fortunately due to the able assistance of Will, who during his stint as under butler had learnt the necessary skills, they were able to pull it off with the minimum amount of hassle and avoiding an international incident.

When they arrived the music was already playing and people had pushed back the tables and were dancing, the new Scottish maid Isobel had been teaching the girls a simple version of the West Highland Fling and everyone was laughing and having a good time. Will wandered over to the corner and badgered Johnny to fill up his tankard, the lad did so but grudgingly barely acknowledging Will's presence. Typical Will thought this is hardly going to be a fun evening with half the staff still not talking to me. He glanced round the room looking for someone to talk to, George and Grace not surprisingly had disappeared off the moment his back was turn, Fred was fending off the advances of the Scottish Selkie, as Isobel was now thought of, so who could he talk to. Over by the buffet Lizzie stood on the outskirts of a group of maids, all of whom were gossiping away, time to work a little of the Will Forrest charm.

"Good evening Ladies, my my don't we all look lovely this evening!" Will announced his eyes roaming over the young lasses but settling on Lizzie, who gave him a small smile of encouragement.

"Why thanks Will!" Spouted out Rosie, one of the kitchen sculleries, as the rest of the girls giggled madly.

"Would one of you lovely creatures honour me with a dance?" Will asked winking at the assembled group.

Lizzie was just about to answer yes when one of the other girls cut her off. "Oh no, we couldn't, could we girls?" Rosie replied looking round the group for the confirming nods.

"Why not?" Will asked, although deep down he knew the answer.

"Well I wouldn't feel safe, I mean dancing with a murderer, I might get tainted by association and you know I have my future to think about and it's not like any sane woman would marry into your family, not unless she had a death wish that is!" Rosie spat back.

"Who said I wanted anything else from you love, I may have rotten family but I'm not crazy enough to want to contaminate it further!" Will retorted angrily his voice rising in volume until unnoticed the music had stopped and everyone was staring at him, but Will didn't notice as Rosie's snide comments had struck a nerve.

The maids all stepped back in fear. "See girls, Johnny was right he does have a violent nature, any woman would have to be suicidal to let you anywhere near her let alone close enough for a dance, why don't you just crawl back under whatever rock you came out from?" Rosie yelled back, her voice carrying out into the corridor before turning and addressing the others, "Come along girls none of us want anything to do with this nutter!" And with that they turned dragging a reluctant Lizzie along with them. She looked back over her shoulder at Will, trying to break free and go over to him, let him know that not everyone felt that way and that if he'd only ask one in particular she would be delighted to join the Forest clan. However just as she was shaking free, something happened that made her mouth drop open and a stab of fear strike her heart.

In the doorway stood a livid looking Mrs Ryan, gone was the elegant quiet housekeeper and in her place was the fiery Irish side of her character that few except Mr Jarvis ever saw. She had obviously been on her way upstairs, having planned on retiring early for the evening, her long black curls normally ensnared in a bun had been let down and delicately framed her face making her look even more beautiful and much younger. Having paused for a moment on the threshold, she then strode purposely into the room and up to Will, who was staring in amazement at the transformation.

"Mr Forest, I seem to have overheard you asking for a dance partner, if I am not jumping the queue may I have the next dance?" She asked her eyes boring directly into Will's ignoring the shocked gasps of amazement from the rest of the assembled staff, as Will nodded mutely and held his hand out the housekeeper.

This settled Flora turned her attention to the motley orchestra, "Well play, this is a party not a wake!" And under her severe gaze they quickly reassembled and began playing a waltz. "No something slightly more cheerful!" Flora demanded, "A polka if you please!" Amazed that the normally distant housekeeper would gatecrash the party let alone dance a jig the players stood there dumb for an instant before another death glare from Flora urged them into action.

As the music began, Will took Mrs Ryan in his arms and began to whirl her round the floor, her curls flying out behind as they went, at first the others were so stunned they just watched the pair as they circled the room, but then the newly returned Grace and George joined them as did Fred who had been literally dragged onto the floor by the ever persistent Isobel. Soon the floor was filled with dancing couples and few people stood on the sidelines. However Lizzie had refused Johnny's offer of a dance and had chosen to perch herself on top of one of the tables from where she could keep her eyes on the couple that was William Forest and Flora Ryan.

Watching them closely brought tears to her eyes, Will had once admitted to her that he had had a crush on Mrs Ryan but he had sworn that those feelings were long gone. However looking at the laughing pair, and watching the way Will's eyes never left the housekeepers face and the way he held her rather closer than most would consider appropriate, she doubted that was true. Blinking back the tears, she wondered why she didn't just leave this was worse than torture, but for some sick reason she couldn't take her eyes off of them, even though every shared laugh and smile and locked gazed felt like she'd been punched in the stomach.

Finally the dance came to an end and Lizzie hoped against hope that the housekeeper would excuse herself and leave. At first this did appear to be the case, she could see Flora trying to edge towards the door, but then as the music struck up once more she saw the housekeepers face relent under Will's persistent wheedling before allowing him to draw her into his arms again this time for a slower number. This she realised she couldn't stand to watch, and so wiping at her eyes made her way towards the door before taking one last look over her shoulder at the pair. They seemed oblivious of everyone else and for once Lizzie felt a rush of jealous anger towards the housekeeper, she already had her man why did she feel the need to ensnare others under her spell? She watched as Will brushed a lock of hair out of Flora's eyes, he seemed to be completely oblivious to anyone watching and the conclusions they would draw, before turning and dashing out into the corridor.

Once out of sight Lizzie let her tears fall and began to run wildly down the corridor, determined to hide away in the maids' room before anyone noticed her absence. As a result she didn't see the figure in the darkness coming round the corner until they collided. Lying on the floor Lizzie squinted up at Mr Jarvis, who was not so distracted that he didn't notice the poor girl on the floor. Leaning down he held out his hand and helped Lizzie to his feet, "Miss Mcduff may I remind you that this is a country house not a racetrack!"

"Yes Mr Jarvis." Lizzie snivelled, her eyes locked on the floor.

"Well well nothing broken, be on your way!..." Then just as Lizzie passed him he asked her, "I don't suppose you've seen Mrs Ryan about, in her office?" His question may have seemed perfectly reasonable but his eyes and his tone of voice made Lizzie step back, there was such an element of desperation in them that she had never seen before and she could have sworn she caught a whiff of brandy on his breath. For a moment she considered pretending she didn't know, after all it would just upset Jarvis, but then the image of Flora laughing in Will's arms, where by rights she should be, flashed before her eyes and before she could stop herself she had spat out, "Yes I have!"

"Well where is she?"

"She's at the party!" Lizzie mumbled immediately regretting her words as they tumbled from her lips, a pervading feeling of doom overcoming her as she realised the fuse she had just lit.

"What the devil is she doing there?" Jarvis expounded, not really asking Lizzie, but the maid attempted an answer.

"Well I imagined she just popped in to keep an eye things….."

"Well she had no business being there tonight we had made plans, damn her she's doing this on purpose…." Jarvis growled his face turning red with anger as he stormed off towards the lower servants' hall a concerned Lizzie pausing momentarily before dashing off after him.

Jarvis's blood was pounding in his ears, damn her damn her to hell, had she taken nothing he had said this afternoon seriously or did she mistakenly think she could avoid their discussion simply by hiding off with the lower servants. Yes that must have been it, she was obviously trying to put off having to make her decision, thinking that Jarvis would not dare berate her in front of the others, well that was a miscalculation on her part if necessary he would drag her out of there by her hair.
Suddenly he had reached the doorway but stopped dead at what he saw, his beloved Flora dancing with that scum William Forest, the footman's hands were all over her holding her tightly against him and Jarvis felt his blood boil.

Storming across the room scattering dancing couples in his wake he reached the pair who upon seeing him paused mid step but did not separate, Will's hand still paused mid air from brushing back her hair from her face, this level of intimacy only seemed to confirm Walter's deepest suspicions.

"You bd!" Jarvis yelled his left fist flying towards Will landing plum on the Footman's jaw knocking him squarely off his feet. As soon as he landed heavily on his back Jarvis moved forward his fist raised to land another blow on his fallen opponent.

"Walter stop please!" Flora yelled her hands reaching out futilely to restrain the enraged butler, settling for locking her arms round one of his and trying to anchor him still long enough for the other footmen to get Will out of danger. But Jarvis shook her off as if she was nothing more than slight irritant and managed to land another punch on Will, this one on his nose which broke with a sickening crack.

Hearing this Flora flung herself in between the two men, standing protectively over Will refusing to let Walter push her aside, "Walter stop please, it's not what you think!"

But Jarvis was beyond reason and when he couldn't shake her off he raised his hand and Flora flinched in horror as he let it fly. However fortunately for her mere moments before Mr Adams had arrived back and seeing the situation had pushed himself through the crowd, arriving just in time to restrain Jarvis knocking Flora off her feet and out the way. When she realised the blow was not going to fall Flora slowly and shakily got to her feet, ignoring the shocked and disgusted faces of those around her, the rumours about the violence in their relationship once more being whispered around the room. "Walter please calm yourself, it was nothing just a dance it didn't mean anything."

"Lies, all lies!" Walter hissed shaking off Mr Adams and reaching out and grabbing her wrists pulling her against him, "All this time all I thought you needed was a push in the right direction and given time you'd come around, but now I find out the truth. How long as it been going on? Ever since that kiss that you said meant nothing? Tell me love how long have you been moonlighting with our young Adonis here? Weeks, months, who knows may be that baby wasn't even mine, I never seriously considered Felix a likely candidate but young Mr Forest now there's a possibility. I suppose you thought you could carry it on now, after all if you got pregnant you could always condone to visit my bed and then pass it off as mine once more."

"How can you even think that? I'd never do that, I couldn't."

"Well believe me that is not going to happen this time!" He retorted icily and seizing her elbow began to frogmarch her towards the door. "I gave you the choice and you blew it Flora, I think it's about time you learnt your lesson."

Flora realising what he meant began to struggle and called out for help and suddenly the doorway was blocked by Mr Adams and the other footmen, even the beaten Will got unsteadily to his feet to join the blockade.

"Get out of my way, all of you!" Jarvis bellowed.

"I'm sorry sir!" Adams replied shrinking back a little under the intensity of the butler's glare. "You may leave if you wish but I suggest Mrs Ryan remains behind."

"You really think I'm going to leave her here with him?" Jarvis snorted pointing derogatorily at Will a look of disgust on his face. "I would thought you of all people would understand Mr Adams, what's mine is mine and no one else has any business touching my things, let alone my wife."

"I'm not your wife!" Flora spat at him icily. Then reaching down to her left hand she removed his ring that had lain there safely for so long and wrenching her arm free flung it at the stunned butler. "You forced me into making a choice all or nothing you said, well I choose nothing I don't want you anywhere near me ever again. You lost Walter, we both have; I just hope you're happy now!" And with that she turned and ran out the door ignoring the shocked and surprised expressions.

Jarvis on the other hand stood stock still gazing in despair after her fleeing form unable to follow. Instead his eyes returned to the flagstone floor and to the little band of gold and sapphire that lay lost and alone, twinkling in the darkness. Slowly he bent down and picked it up, his hands trembling and he staggered like a man mortally wounded closely followed by the watchful Mr Adams as he made his way to his office where he slammed the door in his under butler's face. Slumping down into his chair as tears threatened to overwhelm him he placed the ring down on the desk and reached for the remaining bottle of brandy, not bothering with a glass he downed it straight from the bottle wishing that he could drown within its amber depths, the whole purpose of his existence seemed meaningless without her by his side. He had gambled and lost, there was nothing left worth living for and slowly he reached out and picked up the ring enclosing it tightly in his fist before slumping over his desk and sobbing uncontrollably.

Adams is completely stunned when Jarvis slams the door in his face, nearly flattening his nose in the process. In fact he is completely stunned with the butler's behaviour altogether. He doesn't really have a problem with him thumping Will Forest, although it hadn't been at all in the much more subtle style that he himself would have used. Hitting him in front of the staff was probably not the smartest of moves, he concludes, but lashing out and hitting Mrs Ryan? Hitting a woman? That is most definitely not on. Still, he realises that it is better to leave him to consider the merits of a substantial amount of alcohol in the blood, a trick that had worked for Adams many a time in the past, so turns on his heels and stalks off back down the corridor, glancing at his pocket watch. He curses himself for his lateness, Rebecca had hinted before they had parted that she is most definitely up for the 'naughty sailors' role play tonight – one of his favourites – and if he doesn't get a move on he may have to wait longer than he anticipated. Suddenly, an unexpected thought – or rather memory – comes to mind and he stops, pondering for a moment. He doesn't recall seeing his daughter at the party, and in all the commotion he hadn't had chance to think about asking anyone where she was. Glancing at his pocket watch again, he chews his bottom lip in deep concentration before resolving to quickly find her and check she is alright. Another murmur of guilt is creeping into his consciousness and he feels it his duty to take her wellbeing into account before returning to the open arms of his upper class lover. Hurrying his pace, he makes his way to the maid's quarters. No doubt, he thinks, the other maids will be fussing over Will – Lizzie herself is probably there at the front, soothing him with their words and warm towels, but he felt it best just to make sure Lizzie hasn't retired to bed early……….

Adams stops at the door, which is open just a crack, and he frowns when he hears a muffled blubbing and sniffing coming from inside. Unsure whether it is Lizzie, he squints through the gap to get a better view, noticing a shaking form on one of the nearside beds. Recognising the skirts instantly as Lizzie's, he pushes the door open instinctively, standing there momentarily before daring to speak.

Adams softly: Elizabeth? What's wrong?

Lizzie looks up from crying soundly into her pillow, her eyes red and her baby cheeks flushed, her hair plastered with tears to the side of her face. Her expression is contorted into one of hurt and desperation as she sits up, roughly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand while she catches her breath, her eyes meeting her father's but full of coldness and distance.

Lizzie beginning to sob again: Father, just leave me! I don't want to talk!

Adams steps forward slightly, concerned but also feeling the frustration beginning to build. It doesn't seem that she is going to make this easy for him, but a pang of fatherly compassion overcomes him and he reaches out to touch her shoulder

Adams: But who has upset you?

Lizzie burying her face in her pillow again: You wouldn't understand, please leave me alone!

The realisation suddenly hits him, the concern being replaced by anger as his fists clench tightly. Not only did it seem that the irresponsible footman in question had been trying to get inside Mrs Ryan's bloomers, but he has hurt his only daughter in the process, and he isn't about to stand for some inconsequential lower servant making a fool of her.

Adams in a low, dangerous voice: William Forest.

Lizzie stares up at her father, her bloodshot eyes wide and pleading. She cannot deny to him that Will had made her cry, that his almost boyish interest in Mrs Ryan had got to her and she had to flee the party before making a show of herself. Her breathing quickens as she attempts a smile, but by now the ringing in Adams' ears is getting louder and louder

Adams moving towards the door: Bloody William Forest, the little beggar!

Lizzie shaking her head: Father no, it's nothing, really, I'm fine, please don't go and………

Adams ignores her completely, storming out of the room, Lizzie's cracked voice calling out to him to come back, she could talk to him now, but there is little point in her even trying.

It is easy for Adams to find Will – as he predicted, maids are fussing around him, patching up his nose, but the room is hardly full of chatter and tales of heroics, with George and the other footmen nowhere to be seen. Will is slumped in a chair, staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the wall, his only reaction is to flinch every so often when his nose is touched by Charlotte and a damp flannel. Adams watches him for a moment, the maids only giving him a cursory acknowledgment, and none of them asking after Jarvis. Moving round to face Will, he crouches until he catches the footman's emotionless stare, but Will only looks down at the floor, willing him to leave him alone.

Adams standing and clapping his hands: Right, lassies, everybody out, it's way past your bedtimes and the fun's over. I'll look after Mr Forest from here, I'm sure he's had enough female attention for one exciting night!

Will grits his teeth, desperate not to show the under-butler a single shred of emotion and determined not to let him get to him. He is tired, confused and probably out of a job, so Adams' smug grin is most certainly able to push him over the edge if he is provoked. The maids scatter out of the room, gossiping quietly, as they head to their beds to chatter some more about the accusations Jarvis threw at the housekeeper that night.

Adams legs apart and arms folded: So, Mr Forest. Been having it away – or should I say TRYING to have it away – with Mrs Ryan, have you?

Will doesn't respond, slumping forward in the chair and shutting his eyes, his nose throbbing and feeling very, very sorry for himself. Adams huffs on receiving no reply, kicking Will's leg forcefully and causing the footman to wail in pain

Adams leaning towards him: Well?

Will mumbling quietly: Well what?

Adams roughly pulling Will up out of the chair: Come on, on your feet!

Adams slams Will hard up against the table, but the footman shrugs him off, about to push him back but good sense preventing him from doing so. Instead he looks at Adams with distain on his face and pain in his eyes, but the under-butler is in no mood to give him sympathy as he prowls round him, giving him no space to make a run for it

Will dabbing blood from his nose: What has it got to do with you, or are you just sticking your nose in just so you can have a go! Any opportunity, isn't that right, Mr Adams!

Adams closing in on him and hissing in his face: I think you know exactly what my interest is in this, Mr Forest. While you're busy getting the housekeeper up the duff you're making an idiot out of my daughter! Suddenly got bored of her did you?

Will knows anything he says to Adams will be twisted and thrown back in his face, but nevertheless he had to try. Staggering round from the table, he rinses his hands and face in a jug of water as dizziness from the punch sets in and a wave of nausea overcomes him

Will trying not to be sick: I haven't done a thing with Mrs Ryan, not that it's any of your business, and I still feel for Lizzie! She's been a good friend and….

Adams spinning him round, the jug toppling and spilling everywhere: I don't want you 'feeling' anything, especially Elizabeth, do you understand! Stay away from her, this is your only warning - she doesn't love you, she doesn't even LIKE you any more, she told me herself!

Will rage and spite filling his voice: You're just worried about how it reflects on YOU, you don't give a toss about Lizzie! What do you know about love and feelings, when was the last time any woman took the slightest bit of interest in you, Mr Adams!

Adams paces in front of him for a moment, before swinging round and to Will's surprise smiling wickedly.

Adams: Well, wouldn't you like to know? I may be getting laid every night for all you know, so you should watch your tongue you snivelling little…….

Will laughing mockingly, his face still dripping with water and blood: Oh yes, I'm sure, off into town regularly are we? Must be the only way, unless you've got some poor Taplows girl on the go! A quick one in the scullery, is it!

Adams pointing accusingly: Look, you should be grateful I didn't let Jarvis finish the job in there, but I'm quite willing to do it for him, and the way he is at the moment I don't think he could care less! In fact he may welcome your untimely absence from Taplows!

Will propping himself up on the wall: So why did you stop him, eh! Why didn't you just let him beat me to a bloody pulp like you're used to doing!

Adams: I did it for Mr Jarvis, certainly not for you! He's a good man driven to the brink by a dirty worm like you, and he's better than that!

Will: You never do anything for anybody else! Wanted to be the hero did you so you could impress the prostitutes in town and get some money knocked off the going rate? Although you're so tight you probably only use the cheap ones, see how far a few pennies can stretch, ain't that right!

But before Will can spit out any more hate and accusations, Adams flies at him and thumps him hard in the stomach, causing him to double over and groan in agony. Lucky for Adams that he is able to jump out of the way, just before Will gags then vomits all over the floor, collapsing next to it almost in tears

Adams shaking his head, a sly smile on his face: God, you repulse me, Mr Forest. I suggest you clean up your filth then make your way to your pit before you make any more mess tonight, who knows tonight may be the last one you spend under this roof!

Will doesn't reply, curled up on the floor, the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he coughs and splutters, his stomach churning. Adams kicks a bucket towards him, catching Will on the arm and giving him a nasty bruise.

Adams heading towards the door: Not even your colleagues want to know you, you're too revolting even for George Cosmo. Oh, and use that bucket to clean up, although you may want to throw up IN IT next time.

With a cursory, disgusted glance, he exits, leaving the sorry footman to drag himself up off the floor, alone and ostracised by everyone he loves and cares for.

Damn that William Forest,thinks Adams as he hurries quietly up the main stairs towards Rebecca's bedroom. It is one o'clock in the morning and his only thought is to blame Will for his lateness, rather than blaming his own temper, as he approaches her door,glancing from side to side for any sign of a wandering Lady Mary. Not that anyone would believe a word she said if she DID see him – what, a keen-looking under-butler entering the room of the stunning Lady Farquharson at one am? That's more unbelievable than Jarvis being her late Algernon. The Earl would probably have her sent to an asylum or worse have her locked in her room, but if he saw Adams himself, well, he doubts even the charms of Lady Rebecca could prevent his dismissal. He had thought it best to carry a glass of water with him just in case,at least then he would have some excuse for being there,although if he were spotted every night with one the Earl may urge Rebecca to see the doctor in case her thirst means she is developing a fever.

Knocking his 'code knock', or three taps – a pause – then another, he then enters without being called, slipping round the door and shutting it quietly but tightly immediately. To his surprise the lamps are out, and candles are placed around the room and around her bed, creating a romantic glow that makes him feel instantly amorous. Moving quietly over to her bed, he sees to his absolute delight her lying there on top of the white silk sheets, looking more attractive and sexy than he has ever seen her before. Sadly, however, she is fast asleep. Leaning on one of the four posts, Adams watches her breathe gently. He knew she had obtained a 'special outfit' that he had never seen, one which she had bought out of her allowance when she was in Paris a few months back visiting a particularly wealthy relative, in the hopes that her and Adams would meet again. It was purchased from one of France's top designers and is as yet still unavailable to the general (extremely rich) public, and he realises straight away that this must be it. It is a beautiful satin corset, bright red, and decorated with fancy black lace and beading – it is quite unlike one he has seen (not that he saw that many, he confesses to himself), as it is laced up the front and covers the chest further up than the current fashion. Because of this, she has only loosely tied the ribbon at the top, obviously to tease him, and he can't help but admit that it has worked. Smiling, his eyes wander over her, her legs smooth in black silk stockings held up by the suspender straps of the corset (another new look Adams hadn't seen before, even in magazines) and her long hair seductively draped over her shoulders.

Not wanting to startle her, Adams moves along the bed until his eye catches the Captain's Naval uniform draped over a chair ready for him to wear, so he chuckles to himself, climbing off the bed and picking it up.

A few minutes later, he is fully changed, and although he feels rather awkward dressed up, he is doing it for Rebecca and anyway he realises that he is possibly about to get a better time than usual out of it. Perching himself on the side of the bed, he reaches out and strokes her hair, running the tips of his fingers gently down her bare arm before leaning forward towards her face. He stops momentarily to gaze at her voluptuous lips, apart slightly and perfectly formed, tinted with a dark red lipstick, before kissing them tenderly. Moving slightly, Rebecca reaches up and pushes his head down, kissing him back passionately for a moment or two before suddenly her eyes fly open and she shoves him off, sending him flying with a thud half way across the room.

Adams gulping hard: What's the matter with you!

Rebecca sitting up and pouting: You're late! Very, very late!

She folds her arms, staring hard at him and frowning as the under-butler staggers to his feet, brushing down his 'uniform'

Adams looking pitiful: I know, I know, and I'm sorry, let me explain……..

Rebecca climbing roughly under the sheets and pulling them up to her neck: I don't know why you're wearing that, there's little point now! What the hell were you doing?

Adams: It was……..

Rebecca hardly listening: You are two hours late, Andrew, I DO NOT like being stood up, especially by a…..by a…… She tails off, thinking better of it and turning her face into her pillow

Adams his expression hardening, knowing exactly what she meant: By a what, Rebecca?

There is a short silence before Adams, knowing that she has every right to be angry, tries to reason with her again, telling her exactly why he is late and hoping for forgiveness so he can get some action and out of the uniform as soon as possible. He decides not to tell her about Jarvis and Mrs Ryan, as well as the obvious. Why on earth would he want to shatter her innocence and tell her exactly what sort of things go on downstairs?

Adams: Look, I'm sorry. It was Lady Mary, she went walk-about again in the gardens and Jarvis and I had to catch her. Please don't mention it to the Earl and Lady Caroline, neither of them know anything about it and they would be just devastated. And with the Earl in his current disposition………

Lady Rebecca huffs, sitting up again but with an expression on her face that she may be relenting and giving in to his tale. Phew, Adams thinks, she must be even more naïve than he thought.

Rebecca looking sympathetic as she lies back: Oh, the poor dear, she really is a little strange now

Adams feigns a sorry nod, but then Rebecca's expression turns sultry as she runs her finger suggestively along her bottom lip, her eyes urging him to come to her. Adams lets out a low growl, rubbing his hands together as if he is about to eat the tastiest meal of his life then practically leaping onto the bed in a fever of anticipation.

Rebecca purring naughtily: So Captain Adams, tell me about your big adventures, your war stories and how you have rescued fair maidens from the hands of pirates.

Adams running a hand across her thigh: How we beat those Frenchies you mean?

Rebecca giggling, sliding down the bed and letting Adams' hand roam: Or, I could give you a little surprise.

Adams raises an eyebrow suggestively, toying with the ribbon of her corset, but before he can take their intimacy to the next stage Rebecca clasps his hand and rolls him on his back, kissing him then sliding off the bed.

Rebecca urgently: I need your trousers. And your long johns.

Adams, not needing to be told twice, grins cheekily as he strips off his bottom half, and in no time at all he is throwing them on the floor.

Rebecca licking her lips and posing sexily: Now, close your eyes Andrew, no peeking now.

He does as he is told, and it is perfectly obvious what he may be expecting and that he is certainly most excited at the prospect

Rebecca desperate not to laugh: keep them closed, you naughty, naughty sailor!

Quietly yet swiftly, Rebecca scoops up all Adams' discarded clothing and hurries over to the window. Adams, blissfully unaware and thinking he may very well be in for a treat, frowns a little when he hears the window opening

Adams smiling slyly: Well Rebecca I didn't know I got you so hot and bothered!

Rebecca laughing wickedly: Oh Andrew you know you do, and you know I can't resist a man in uniform. Shame you're only wearing half of it! Open your eyes!

Adams does as he is told, but it is not the sight of an unlaced corset that meets his eyes but a smug looking Lady holding all of his clothes out of the window ready to let go

Adams wide-eyed: What the hell are you doing! I've got to get back to my room yet!

Rebecca leaning further out: Well you should have thought about that before standing me up!

Adams moving off the bed, exasperated: I told you what happened, Lady Mary...!

Rebecca tutting and rolling her eyes: Yes, yes, I know! You must think I was born yesterday, that I'm some silly rich girl who will believe anything she's told!

Adams not taking his eyes off his clothes: No that's not true! Come on Rebecca, don't be foolish!

Rebecca is by now getting cold as a huge draught sweeps through the bedroom, billowing the curtains out and causing Adams to shiver

Rebecca looking tearful, her lip trembling: I know what you've been up to! What you've been doing and lying to me about!

Adams' heart begins to pound quickly, blood rushing to his ears. How on earth could she? Had she followed him? Surely not

Rebecca almost spitefully: You've been having so much fun at the servants party you had forgotten all about me, left me lying here in frustration as you down your ale or whatever it is you people drink!

Adams relieved on one hand but a little hurt on the other: Is that what you think of 'us people', as you put it? That all we do is get drunk and have wild parties?

Adams suddenly frowns – yes, she seems to have it quite accurately portrayed, actually – but then he looks back up at her and realises that she actually is about to throw all his clothes out of the window, and that he will have to run round Taplows naked at approximately 1.30 am trying to reclaim his attire without waking anybody up. In a last-ditch attempt to change her mind, he smiles and decides to try to charm her out of it

Adams winking and moving over to her: Please, darling, don't do this. I love you, I didn't forget I promise, things just overran a little and Mr Jarvis needed me to keep the drunken footmen in order, that's all. I kept looking at my pocket watch the whole time.

He slips his arm around her tight, satin waist and brushes his lips against her cheek and down her neck. Still she kept the clothes out of the window, a small smile on her face as Adams tries to ignore the cold while kissing her exposed skin and down as he unlaces her

Rebecca shaking her head slowly: Oh I don't think so, Andrew.

Adams quickly tries to grab her arms, pulling them in, but she is stronger than he remembers and she manages to push back forcefully, so much so that he is taken by surprise and to the shock of both of them the clothes leave Rebecca's grip and plummet to the ground below. Both put their heads out of the window, gasping as two pairs of trousers, two pairs of long johns, a vest, a shirt, a jacket, a waistcoat and a neck tie quietly thud on the gravel. There is a short silence as both absorb the implications of this, Adams shutting the window and Rebecca sits on the bed

Adams hands on hips, a sour look on his face: Well, there's only one thing for it. You'll have to get dressed again and go and get them for me.

Rebecca snorting in contempt: Er, I don't think so. There is no way I could explain my presence wandering downstairs in the middle of the night, I'm not risking it.

Adams throwing his arms in the air: Well I certainly can't go like this!

Rebecca suddenly starts to snigger, then puts her hand over her mouth as she looks at her lover, laughing hysterically as she points at his current state, as if the humour of the situation has only just occurred to her. She falls back on the bed, her whole delicate frame wracked with laughter. Adams finds this a little annoying at first, but then kind of infectious so in the end he is laughing nearly as hard as she is, flopping next to her until both have exhausted themselves. For a second, neither of them move, until Adams sits up and leans over her, gazing deeply into her sparkling eyes. Rebecca gently murmurs 'kiss me', but before she can even finish he has locked his lips with hers, determined not to let her 'outfit' go to waste that night, even if it did mean leaving it a while before reclaiming his clothing. Rolling on top of her, he threads his fingers through hers, ready to finally get what he came to her room for………..

A little while later, Adams has almost forgotten about his clothes as the two sit in bed chatting and laughing and drinking champagne. This is how it is supposed to be, Adams thinks, living like the other half, lying in a large, warm, comfy bed with a beautiful, wealthy woman, drinking what only the rich can afford. He sighs as Rebecca strokes his hair, but suddenly they begin to hear a rustle outside, then a kind of growling noise. Adams sits bolt upright, his eyes wide, then jumps out of bed and runs over to the window.

Adams a little more loudly than he intended: My clothes! A fox is chewing up my clothes!

Rebecca startled: A fox? Oh dear!

Adams dashing round the room, throwing on the top half of his 'uniform' again: Quick, give me something to put on!

Rebecca frowning and shrugging: Like what! I don't have any trousers, surprisingly!

Adams throwing open her cupboards in desperation: Anything, I don't care – drawers, yes give me a pair of your drawers!

Rebecca climbing out of bed and putting on her dressing gown: They won't fit you! And anyway you won't find them in there, stop throwing my things on the floor, how would I explain this to Isobel!

Adams is now frantic, the only thing on his mind being that if his under-butler uniform is wrecked Jarvis would surely murder him, especially in his current mood, either that or he would have his wages seriously docked AGAIN. Like a man possessed he starts searching through her closet until she blocks him, a look of fury on her face, holding up a fresh pair of her drawers

Rebecca her voice stern: Goodness knows how you're going to get into these, and how I will explain their absence to Isobel, but take them and hurry up

Adams snatches them off her, roughly climbing into them until there is a tearing noise. Nevertheless he manages to pull them up, his legs stretching them to their limit, and Rebecca can't help but stifle a laugh

Adams huffing, looking down at himself and hissing: You didn't tell me that drawers are bleedin' crotchless!

Rebecca sniggering: Yes, I've always wondered why you feel the need to pull them down during our intimate moments, my sweet!

Rebecca doubles over again at Adams, as he awkwardly walks over to the door, gives her one last disapproving look as she giggles mercilessly at his misfortune, then exits. She could have given him a petticoat instead, but it is too late as he has gone, tip-toeing as fast as possible through the main house, past all the bedrooms containing some of the most important people in the country, and down towards the back of the house. Far better to exit there than through the front door! It takes him a couple of minutes to wrestle his long johns from the grip of the fox's jaw, tugging away and nearly falling backwards as the fox growls and hangs on for dear life. Good job the Earl isn't there, he muses, although he'd shoot the fox as soon as look at it, he'd probably think it best to shoot Adams as well and put him out of his misery. He sees Rebecca at the open window, no doubt thinking he deserves it, and finally after a lot of scuffling the fox runs off, thankfully with only a sock as its prize.

Rebecca waving her arms at him: Hurry! Someone will see!

Adams roughly scoops up his clothing, the drawers nearly completely split, and runs bare foot back to the servants quarters, desperate to get back to his room which now seems very far away. As he struggles along the corridor, is mind focused on getting back, his heart suddenly leaps into his throat and he freezes. Jarvis has appeared right in front of him. The drunken butler squints at Adams, looking him up and down as he sways slightly. He almost chuckles to himself, staring down at the nearly empty bottle in his hand, then back at Adams, then down at the bottle again. He rubs his eyes, then scratches his forehead, completely confused at this hallucination before him.

Jarvis shaking his head disbelievingly and slurring: Gosh, this is strong stuff!

He then frowns at a very still and stunned under-butler before staggering round, using the wall for support, and wobbling off in the other direction on his way to the bathroom. Adams breathes again, letting out a long sigh. Thank goodness for drink, he thinks, hurrying quickly to his room. If this is what Lady Farquharson did to him over standing her up, what on earth would she do if she ever found out about his most recent – and much more distant – past!