Servants Series 6

by ss9

A wedding at last? Or is everything off? Taplows gains a new deputy housekeeper, another Adams who has more than enough secrets of her own and will Frank's plotting finally pay off?

2. Episode 2

After his attendance at a rather racous aristocratic dinner, where Lord Shaftesbury drowned out everyone else's attempts to speak including Lady Francesca, to her utter horror, Andrew Adams saw his chance to catch Lady Rebecca on her own after she headed up to her room to have a lie down rather than sitting and making innocuous chit-chat with the Countess. Rebecca had been experiencing the worst hot flushes of her life, and she was convinced at one point that her head had nearly reached boiling point, so rather than sweat it out on a chaise in the drawing room while desperately trying to think of something vague to say about the weather to a woman she hardly knew, she decided best thing was to go upstairs and hope that the person she actually wanted to see would follow her. And to her delight he did. By the time Adams had hurried into her room she had already taken off her dress and petticoats and was lying on her bed, fanning herself furiously and gulping at a glass of water.

"Oh, I feel just ghastly." Rebecca breathed, resting the back of her hand on her forehead. "I am so hot it's ridiculous, I thought for one minute I would positively swoon at dinner."

"Well, I would have been there to catch you." Adams smiled, sitting next to her and running his fingers down her flushed, crimson neck. "Maybe you need to see the doctor, shall I call for him?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary." Rebecca muttered dismissively. "I'll be fine, the doctor said that hot flushes are normal, I'm sure I'll cool down soon, even if it means standing outside naked in the cold!"

"Mmm, sounds a bit risky to me, maybe you should just be naked in here with me instead." Adams whispered teasingly, walking his fingers up her leg in a playful and expectant manner.

"Now, now, don't you be getting any ideas Mr Adams, I'm sweating enough as it is without exerting myself further!" She snapped, flicking his hand away as she unlaced herself to allow more of the intense heat burning up her skin to escape into the coolness of the room. Adams tutted and frowned sulkily, but eventually he made do with just resting his head on her stomach.

"You wouldn't believe what happened today." The under-butler eventually said, sighing wistfully. "Frank Keneally – he's only Jarvis' bloody nephew!"

"Yes I know, I heard Lizzie gossiping to Grace outside my room only minutes ago." Rebecca replied heavily as she flopped her head back onto her headboard in exhaustion. "But this will be something you don't know, however!"

Adams raised his head in interest, moving slightly further towards her so she could whisper in his ear. "My sister's pregnant!"

"Well what's that got to do with Keneally being Jarvis' nephew?" Adams asked in slightly puzzled tone as Rebecca shoved her empty glass into his hand for a refill.

"Oh, keep up Andrew!" Rebecca tutted in frustration while trying desperately to find a comfortable position. "It's not Monty's child now is it! They haven't done it for months – well, since before Jennifer was born I wager – and who is it my sister has been having intimacies with? I know she's expecting because she dragged the poor man – Monty, I mean – off to bed the other night."

"And how on earth can you presume all of that, my dear?" Adams laughed, handing back the glass, Rebecca gulping hungrily from it before she would provide him with an answer.

"Because," Rebecca began, panting a little after draining the glass of all its contents. "I saw that glint in her eye, the same look she had when she found out she was with child with Jennifer, and I bet my last penny that she found she had to bed Monty then too just to make him think the child was his."

"So Jennifer's not Monty's either!" Adams gasped, his eyes widening in amazement. "Bloody hell, that woman puts it about! A footman or another valet, was it?"

"No, not a footman or a valet, she went straight to the top of the chain for her last conquest." Rebecca grinned naughtily, almost forgetting her soaring temperature. "At least she kept it within her own household, but even I thought frolicking with the butler was a little risky, especially when she nearly sacked him once for – it is alleged anyway – not satisfying her enough one night! She soon dumped him after Jennifer was born, I'm surprised he hasn't resigned in shame!"

"NO!" Adams yelped. "Mr Phillips! Did Monty know!"

Rebecca shook her head, sliding down the bed until she was lying flat, exposing her swollen stomach which Adams kissed tenderly. "Don't think he did, but who knows? I wouldn't blame the poor fellow if he had taken a mistress of his own."

"Well, you wouldn't believe what men can do when pushed." Adams said knowingly, his thoughts wandering to the whole sorry situation with Keneally, and the absolute look of hopelessness and shame on Jarvis' face.

"Lizzie's going to be back quite soon." Rebecca cooed, stroking Adams' hair as he wrapped his leg around hers.

"And we need to make use of the little time we have left together. I can't bear the thought of you leaving – of me travelling back to Scotland – but at least we can have some nights together before."

"Yes, but now……..?" Adams began in earnest, trailing off as Rebecca placed a finger on his lips.

"For now, we have a little time. I've changed my mind." Rebecca whispered seductively, letting the lace of her corset loosen further. Adams understood her provocative tone immediately, and pulling her down underneath him let his mouth wander over the exposed flushed skin which seemed to increase in temperature with every kiss. "Just be careful with me." Rebecca muttered softly, running her fingers up under his shirt.

"I will, don't worry." Adams replied breathlessly, drawing his lover into a gentle but loving embrace.

It was getting extremely late by the time Molly was able to pick out her third outfit of the day, although rifling through her dresses she realised she was faced with rather an unfortunate dilemma. Even though she hadn't seen her lover for only a couple of days, it felt like a lifetime to her and she wanted to look her very best for him and not like a dreary under-housekeeper who had been working her knuckles raw all day while fighting off reproachful glares and dissatisfied snorts from that despotic butler. She knew in her heart that she didn't need to dress up for Monty, he would love her no matter how exhausted and pale she looked, but she wanted their first meeting at Taplows to be perfect. It was on her mind that he won't be around very much longer after Christmas and she had to make the most of it with him until then. Maybe, she thought with a dreamy smile as she unlaced her dress, he would ask her to run away with him, he could take his fortune and the children and leave Francesca Hamilton-Hussey without a penny to her sullied name.

Molly pondered her problem as she laid out her very best dresses on her bed and sniffed the flowers now sitting proudly in a vase on her dresser in her very tiny bedroom. She wanted to look perfect, but her mourning dresses were all she was allowed to wear for at least the next few months. One had a dirty great stain on it and was now soaking in the scullery, one had been warn so many times it needed washing anyway, and the one she was currently wearing was her least favourite and one she always felt fat as a pig in. With a huff, she resigned herself to having to risk slipping out in something green and flowery and hoping to God she wasn't seen by anyone senior. She could predict fairly well that the footmen and young maids probably wouldn't notice all that much, especially the footmen who, she doubted, could tell one dress from another. But just as she was about to step into her dress there was a light tap on the door and she froze instantly. With a breathless "what on earth?" she hid the dress back in the wardrobe and pressing herself up against the heavy wooden door opened it a crack and peered around it.

"Mr Jarvis!" Molly said in surprise, keeping the door as closed over as possible. "How can I…..?"

"I'm sorry it's so late. I'll say my piece then go." Jarvis stated firmly, not finding it strange in the slightest that Mrs Watson would want to keep the inside of her bedroom a sight only for her eyes. "I have come to apologise."

"Oh?" Molly exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up at this rather inconvenient but interesting intrusion.

"Yes, I have. I've been not inconsiderably unreasonable since you arrived and I am sorry, I hope we can get along a bit better in the future." The butler announced but with an ever so slightly bitter undertone, as if someone were crouching behind him with a gun to his back ordering him to say it. It sounded to Molly like he had been rehearsing it for hours and was just reciting something he had been saying to a mirror over and over. He was even talking directly to the door rather than making eye contact with her which seemed to her more proof he didn't mean a word of it. She was about to question the validity of his statement but decided better of it, maybe now was not the time to antagonise her superior again just before she was about to undertake a very risky liaison in the Orangery.

"Well, thank you Mr Jarvis. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated. Was that all? I do hope your mother is feeling a little better now." Molly replied, a little more tersely than she meant to.

"Er, yes she is, thank you. It was a shock…..anyway, yes that was all." Jarvis muttered, this time to the door handle. "Apart from…..I need you up nice and early tomorrow morning, there is plenty to do and now we have even more guests it is essential we keep the place ticking over like clockwork." With a nod and a forced smile, Jarvis didn't wait for Molly to respond but instead bid her goodnight. He was sure he caught a glimpse of a vase of flowers, but without giving it much further thought he strode off back down the corridor.

"Oh, that man!" Molly fumed to herself, closing the door and snatching her dress from back out of the wardrobe. "Is it such an effort to be nice! What on earth Flora sees in him I will never know!"

She stopped for a moment, just staring at her dress, as it occurred to her that of course she too had loved a man like Mr Jarvis once. He had been loving and caring at first, wooing her and promising her the world, but all he ended up doing was making her life a misery, to such an extent she had to find comfort and solace with another man. Then another. And finally Monty, her one true love.

She had learnt her lesson the hard way and didn't want Flora to have to suffer in the way she had, and if he apologised to her, if at all, in the same unfeeling and hollow way he had done to her a moment before then she pitied the poor woman.

After fastening up her favourite dress, Molly admired herself in her mirror and decided she may as well go the whole way and use some of the small amount of make-up she owned. Henry had always hated her wearing her 'fake', as he called it:

"Makes you look like the cheap tart you really are!" He had sneered venomously after she had applied just the smallest amount of rouge last Christmas Day to make her feel just a bit special. "But that still doesn't make you any more of a woman! It doesn't matter how much of that crap you wear or how much whoring you partake in, my dear, any woman who can't make use of the fruits of a man's loins will never be a true member of the weaker sex and has no place in any man's bed, husband OR client!"

Molly felt her eyes welling up as she recalled Henry's cruel words; she hadn't even dared to dream at the time that it may have been him with the fertility problem and not her. Her eye caught sight of the flowers again and she smiled sadly through her tears. Henry is nothing, she thought in fury, Monty is everything and tonight was going to be wonderful, even if it just meant a quick kiss and a cuddle in a chilly orangery.

Eventually her tears dried up and after neatly tying up her hair, but without her cap, she was ready except for her bonnet and overcoat, which she hurriedly adorned. At least they were black, so even if she was stopped by the night watchman she would look the respectable widow, especially with the her bonnet casting a shadow over her face in dim light. With one last deep sniff of the flowers and a splash of the perfume Monty had bought her the day Henry had found out about the two of them, she tip-toed furtively out of her bedroom, through the servants quarters where Johnny was sleeping with his forehead on the table, and through the courtyard. Outside it was deathly silent, all except for the faint screech of that very strangely named Peacock. Molly breathed deeply and shivered in the night air as she hurried towards the Orangery, cursing herself for being slightly late, but she knew he would wait for her, he would always wait, no matter how long she had been held up. She creaked the door open, peering out into the darkness. All she could see were the outlines and shadows of plants and flowers and nothing else as she stepped cautiously inside, her eyes straining to see any movement.

"Are you there?" She called out in a strained whisper, a little frightened at being out alone and vulnerable. She felt it best not to utter his name, just in case a junior servant had decided to use the place as a drinking den for the night, or indeed another clinch may be taking place somewhere amongst the shrubbery. "Anyone there?"

"Here." A quiet whisper replied from somewhere towards the back of the Orangery. Fortunately the moon shone a pale blue glow through the large windows, lighting part of Molly's path so she at least didn't trip and create a noise, but she could still see nobody until eventually she heard breathing and knew she was very close.

"Oh I've missed you." She breathed, reaching out into the pitch to touch the chest of her aristocratic lover who was standing only inches away. "I never thought I'd get you on your own ever again. The flowers were beautiful, and the note. I am so in love with you."

"Molly……." He whispered, almost too quiet for her to hear. He could feel his entire body beginning to shake in anticipation as her warm breath tickled his chin and her cool hands ran up his waistcoat. Molly nuzzled his cheek firmly, planting a delicate kiss on it as he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. He was sure she could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest at the touch of such an incredible and beautiful woman, and he wondered fleetingly why on earth she would agree to be with him of all people when he knew he just wasn't worthy of such an exquisite creature.

"Kiss me." Molly uttered seductively, brushing her lips along his jaw and running her hands along his shoulders.

She didn't remember Monty being quite so tall, but instantly forgot this slightly puzzled thought when he leant down and entwined his lips with hers in passionate, breathless abandonment. Molly was staggered by the sheer force of the kiss, it was hungry and desperate and not at all like she was used to from Lord Hamilton-Hussey, he was normally gentle and less inclined to chew her face off. She decided it best just to relax into it; dear Monty must have had an especially hard day with that cursed wife of his so she couldn't really deny him the lustful urges he must have been bottling up for days. But she quickly realised that something wasn't quite right; his smell, his breath, the feel of his hand as it caressed her face and neck and trailed down over her chest. For a moment she froze in his embrace and he felt her stiffen – damn it, he thought, he knew she would realise that she was making a mistake by agreeing to meet up with him so soon. He hadn't wooed her enough or treated her like a lady in her position should be treated.

Reluctantly he stopped his hand from wandering and pulled away slightly, but kept his lips firmly locked with hers. Molly began to panic, becoming more and more convinced of the terrible reality that had just begun to dawn on her. She didn't know who, or why, but………..with a whimper she jarred her head back, forcing him to release her lips, and stood just panting in the darkness until she found the ability to speak and to find out the truth.

"Monty, something's not right!" She gasped, her voice catching in her throat so she squeaked rather than whispered.

"Monty!" Joe replied in disbelief, backing away and crashing into a pot plant. "What the hell do you mean, I mean, who is…..Mrs Watson, bloody hell, what have I done!"

Molly listened in shock to Joe's babbling, blinking through the darkness as she realised who the person she had just been intimate with really was, and it was certainly no aristocrat.

"Mr James, what on earth are you doing! Where's Monty, what have you done with him!" She demanded, not really knowing what on earth she was insinuating. If she could have seen Joe properly she would have seen the utter, unbelievable shock and embarrassment on his young face.

"I don't understand……" He muttered weakly, trailing off. Suddenly he barged past her, almost sprinting to the door of the Orangery, desperate to get out, to run somewhere, anywhere, so he would never have to face her ever again.

"Stop!" Molly called out, determined to get to the bottom of what was going on. "Joseph please, stop!" She picked up her skirts and hurried towards him as he spun round and for the first time was able to see her through the moonlight. She looked absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, he thought, and he noticed her coat was open and for the first time since she arrived she was wearing a colour which completely complimented her delicate complexion. He had kissed her, and it had felt wonderful, he had never experienced such mental and physical exhilaration in unison before, but that was all soured by this inexplicable situation in which he found himself. Who was Monty? Surely not Lord Montgomery? It can't be!

"I thought you were someone else, I had arranged to meet someone else here!" Molly tried to explain, but it still didn't make any sense to either of them, and Joe just couldn't bring himself to believe that she may already be involved with someone else, even if she was just their mistress.

"Did they send you flowers?" Joe asked quietly and dejectedly, backing into the shadows so she couldn't see the tears of embarrassment springing to his brown eyes.

"Y…yes, they did." Molly began slowly, keeping her distance from the distressed footman.

"Did they leave you a note?" He whispered, so she couldn't detect the tremor in his voice. He saw her nod and her face cloud over, and he knew she was finally beginning to understand.

"In my heart I feel like we have never been apart." He recited sadly. Molly's gloved hand flew up to her mouth and she was left speechless, she simply gasped at Joe who after a moment of silence couldn't take it any longer and turned to leave.

"So it was you." She finally managed to blurt out. Joe hung his head, his back to her and his hand covering the door handle.

"Yes, it was me." He admitted, looking back over his shoulder at the one woman he knew he could never have.

"But why?" Molly questioned without thinking. "I hardly know you, Joe, and for you to start sending me flowers and notes………"

"I'll tell you why!" Joe cried, taking a step forward so Molly could make out the left side of his face and one wide, pleading eye. He lowered his voice to a shaky half whisper, and she could tell quite clearly the emotional state the footman must be in. "From the first moment I saw you, I couldn't take my eyes off you. You were like the first rays of sunshine in my clouded life and you completely took my breath away."

"But how could you possibly think you were in love with me after such a short time?" Molly gasped, desperately pushing her disappointment that Joe wasn't Monty firmly to the back of her mind.

"I….I just knew." Joe muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, but then he looked up at her and she could see the pain on his face as he spoke. "Do you despise me now?"

"Despise you? No, Joe why would you think that?" Molly said, a slight undertone of exasperation creeping in. "Of course I don't despise you, like I said I barely even……."

"Know me, I know." Joe interrupted, finishing off Molly's sentence perfectly as he sank into utter despondency. He tore his eyes away from her fixed stare, turning to leave, but before he reached the door he turned back and hesitated before finally gathering up his courage. If he didn't ask her, find out the truth, he knew it would eat him up inside. "It is none of my business, but……are you and Lord Montgomery……"

"Yes, we are." Molly replied softly, feeling that she owed poor Joe some reasoning. She was about to tell him that she was flattered for his affection, but thought it sounded patronising so decided it best to say as little as possible. In time, she knew he would get over her, a passing crush which in reality meant nothing, unlike the passion that was her relationship with Monty.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." Joe responded heavily. "I feel too much for you to go spreading gossip."

"Can we be friends?" Molly asked hopefully, shivering in the chill of the orangery as she pulled her coat around herself and tentatively stepped towards him. "I would like to get to know you, I mean I barely know anyone around here so it would be nice to make another friend……"

"What, so I can run soppy little love messages between you and Lord Hamilton-Hussey?" Joe remarked bitterly, stopping Molly in her tracks as she blinked in surprise at such a harsh reaction to her request.

"No, not at all! I want to be your friend, nothing to do with Mont…….Lord Montgomery. Please Joe, don't be like this……."

"It's funny, such a coincidence, don't you think, Mrs Watson?" Joe snorted, furiously wiping a rogue tear from his cheek.

"What is? I don't understand." Molly frowned, shaking her head.

"Must be something in the Adams blood that makes you want to bed aristocrats!" Joe retorted with a spiteful glare at a completely stunned and bemused Molly. "Don't look at me like that, don't know how you're able to cover for him as well as yourself, must be a full time job!"

"You're talking in riddles Joe, I've no idea what you're talking about – covering for who?" Molly said, straining her whisper to such an extent that her voice nearly cracked.

"More people than he thinks knows about him and Lady Rebecca you know, there's little point in trying to deny it, nobody thinks the baby is Lord Hugo's for a minute!" Joe ranted as his emotions exploded, the words pouring from his mouth without even thinking about the consequences first.

"Who is this 'he' you talk of! I am getting sick of this…..!" Molly began in temper, glancing out of the windows in case someone should pass and see the two of them in there and get completely the wrong idea.

"I think you need to tell your brother to be more careful about when he goes to see her, I was on door duty outside the Earl's bedroom when he went sneaking past before, didn't even notice me for all his alertness! And that's not all I saw – or heard rather – I bet Monty failed to tell you that Lady Hamilton-Hussey is with child, but not with his apparently! Heard them rowing about it, and she shouted that if he exposed her then she would bring him down too, and now I know what – or who - she meant!" Joe finally fell silent, Molly stepping backwards and looking startled as if slapped.

"She knows." Molly finally breathed, slumping down into a nearby chair and cradling her face in her hands. "And Andrew – Lady Rebecca – I knew it. But Francesca knows…..oh God, she can't, not yet, he'll be forced to end our affair. What am I going to do?" It wasn't a question she necessarily wanted Joe to answer, or one that was necessarily directed at him, more at herself. Everything had been going so wrong lately, and the only thing right in her life had been Monty, keeping her strong, keeping her sane. If she lost him for the sake of his blackmailing witch of a wife then she wouldn't know what to do, she would be alone again and nothing Andrew could say or do would comfort her. With that foreboding thought Molly broke down in tears, crying into her leather gloves, and Joe felt more awkward – and in love - than ever. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words so instead crouched next to her and gently touched her arm.

"Oh Joe it's all such a mess." Molly blubbed pitifully, smiling sadly through her tears at the pang of amusement she found in the tragedy of her predicament. "We Adams' seem to have a habit of getting ourselves into the silliest of situations, I swear we all bring it upon ourselves!"

"It will be alright, I'm sure of it." Joe tried to reassure her, but somehow he couldn't find the conviction nor the will to make his statement seem as positive as the words suggested.

"I can't bear the thought of Monty sharing a bed with that woman – I understand he must, it is his duty, but I'm so jealous." Molly sighed softly, pulling off her glove and wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"I know how you feel." Joe muttered under his breath, but then caught her tear-drenched eye and kneeling down moved slightly closer to her. "Yes Lord Montgomery may be married to a woman who can't tell one servant from the other – well, except for one as we know – but he's also the luckiest man alive. I may have only known you for a day but I already know you're a beautiful and intelligent lady with one of the most feisty natures I have ever seen. If he has even an ounce of taste about him he will choose you over her any day."

Molly smiled again, laughing gently, both at Joe's heartfelt words and his naivity. To his delight she reached out and cupped his face. "Oh Joe, if only it were that simple." She cooed.

"It's as simple as you make it, Molly." Joe whispered, as he inched forward and let his fingers trace hers. "You're wonderful, what more to it could there possibly be?"

For a heart-stopping moment, the footman had swept her off her feet. She didn't feel attracted to him, well not strongly anyway, but his kind words and the obvious real affection he felt for her seemed enough to let him have another taste of what she knew he craved from her. Pulling his head forward Molly gently brushed her nose against his cheek, then manoeuvred her face so she was able to kiss him softly on the lips. Joe was so incredibly shocked by this sudden gesture that his knees weakened and he nearly fell backwards, but he was able to regain his composure and complete the lingering, tender kiss as her tears sprinkled onto his cheeks.

"I will try to help you, of course I will be your friend." Joe was finally able to say, gasping slightly and automatically touching his lips where Molly's presence had been most definitely felt only moments before.

"You know there can never be anything more, don't you Joe?" Molly asked him, but feeling a stronger pang of pain than she thought she would.

"Yes, I do. That was the last kiss, I know." Joe replied, managing to smile wearily through his disappointment. He had held out a little hope, but knew in his heart that it would never be. Now he was able to realise exactly how Will must be feeling, and it felt horrible. "But I never want to see you unhappy Molly and I will try to help you think of something, you love Lord Hamilton-Hussey and I respect that."

For a minute or two Joe simply held her as she rested her head on his shoulder, absolutely exhausted from a hard day's work, made even busier by Flora's absence. He heard her give a little sigh, and as her arms slipped from around his shoulders he realised quickly that she had fallen fast asleep. Gently he pushed her back into her chair as she breathed deeply, and he couldn't help but just watch her, studying her peaceful face and watching her chest rise and fall rhythmically. As he reached up and brushed her soft, warm face and neck for the last time, he wondered if he would ever feel the same about anyone ever again, even if he did love at some point in the future he doubted very much it could be more intense than his feelings for Molly. With a heavy sigh, the footman scooped up the dainty under-housekeeper in his arms, deciding he would say he found her asleep with a book on her lap, and carried her back to the house to ask one of the maids to assist her to bed.

Cut to the servant's dining hall, where after not one of his best days, indeed best decade, William Forest was again left alone to his thoughts, and whatever was left of dinner, after missing it first time round due to another of the Earl's most impromptu baths. As at last no one was around, the rest of the household apparently having retired to their beds, Will thought it safe enough to slump into Adam's seat at the head of the table, arching his back against the hard wooden chair as he tried, in vain, to make himself comfortable, kicking his boots off as he did so, before crossing his legs, and bringing them to rest upon the huge oak table in front of him. He sighed wearily as he lifted one of Charlotte's crusty rolls to mouth, tearing a piece off, as best he could, as by that time, they were beginning to go a little stale. Having said that, he reminded himself to be thankful, that at least it wasn't one of Grace's freshly baked ones. As the equally unsavoury vision of his lordship's boil came back to haunt him. The tempting notion of next time missing, and accidentally-on-purpose smacking the pompous old walrus over the head with his wooden soap sticks, led him to wantonly seek out his goblet. On grasping it tightly, he proceeded to throw its contents down his throat, soon wishing he hadn't.

Mr Simpkin's home-brewed crab-apple cider certainly had a kick to it, and despite to all intents and purposes being utterly foul, it was (naturally) head and shoulders above Krus' rank concoctions. 'What the hell?' he concluded, placing the empty glass down and after a momentary hesitation, seized the bottle and continued to fill his boots.

When the drink ran dry, the container remained in his hand, dangling off the armrest, while his left elbow rested on the other, his head in his hand, as he stared vacantly into space.

"Your just asking for it now" A somewhat stern, and instantly recognisable voice stirred Will from his stupor (he hadn't heard the heels against the floor boards), as a he noticed a hand reach out in front of him, scooping up his dirty dishes.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Will slowly looked up over his right shoulder to see a rather impatient and strained looking Lizzie bearing down on him.

But before he could speak, he was somewhat startled as the maid, with no prior warning, dumped a flannelette bed sheet into his lap, before seizing the cider bottle. For a split second Will feared she'd had his idea, and was about to clock him over the head with it. While the thought had probably crossed her mind, she simply shook it at him before philosophising, (with raised eyebrow) 'And I don't think this is going to help you much either', at which she turned on her heels and scurried off towards the kitchen.

A little taken aback by the swiftness of the encounter, Will rolled up the bed linen that had been unceremoniously draped over him and dumped it on the table, before placing his feet back on the ground, and turning round in his chair, so as to face Lizzie as she stormed back through the doorway, where she stopped abruptly on meeting Will's gaze. In his trademark cheeky but dry tone Will enquired "So your still talking to me then?"

Without answering and after giving him an equally sarcastic half-smile, she strode over to the table, and grabbed the sheet, Will turning round as she did so. As she held the cloth in her hands, the young maid breathed in heavily and gulped before placing her hands (still holding the sheet) down onto the table, turning her head to face him. In no more of a friendly tone, she snapped "So, are you gonna help me with this?"

Making a wise choice, Will slowly rose to his feet, and took the two corners she was holding out to him. On doing so, he couldn't resist adding "I'll take that as a yes then", with an exaggerated look of mock-fear on his face. This was not such a shrewd move, as Lizzie retorted mordantly, beaming back at him with the ultimate false-grin "You can take it whichever way you like, then you take this and shove it ..." she'd lost her thread, but the footman had caught her drift.

"Not in a chatting mood are we?" He spoke tentatively after leaving it for a moment or two. At this Lizzie didn't look up, so Will conceded dejectedly "No ... no ... well, I spose not" There was an awkward silence for the duration of the sheet- folding, but as Will knew there was something blatantly wrong, he gave it one last try. "Begging your pardon miss, (this caught her attention) but shouldn't this be going off to the laundry?"

At this her expression softened somewhat, but the tension was still there in her voice "Well, it would have tomorrow if Her Royal Highness-of-the-Highlands hadn't decided she was too warm and demanded her satin sheets back! Too warm! Too bloody warm, it's the middle of winter for crying out ...!" The tail end of the sentence was cut off as she snatched the pristinely folded sheet from the footman, whirled around and bustled off to the linen closet.

Will sighed heavily, running his hands over his confused face and up into his hair. He'd seen her stressed out before but ..., he wondered if she'd even come back. In the meantime, he stalked around the room a little before his eyes came to rest on the household photograph, in pride of place above the mantle. It was taken after the Taplow's victory at the Summer Games, but only erected the previous day, after being received sometime earlier that week. It hadn't taken the Earl long to realise what little use it was to him, only to be dragged out when he wanted to boast, only having been taken in the first place to get his lordship's money's worth out of the extortionately priced photographer (after the family portraits of course).

Even though it was quite difficult to distinguish the faces due to both the dismal light, and even poorer quality print, he soon spied Lizzie, predictably sitting next to what appeared to be Grace, himself and George standing behind them, the sight of which raised a fond smile. However as this subsided, he instinctively sought out the housekeeper, her face stern, yet fair. Much to his annoyance, he couldn't stop his eyes drifting to the left of her, where the Butler sat proudly (or arrogantly as Will perceived it) in the centre of his staff, with the just as repugnant Andrew Adams the other side of him.

It was whilst examining this that Lizzie found him again, she knew exactly what the look of utter disdain was for on his face and for a moment, she hesitated remaining at the doorway, not entirely sure that she wanted to have this conversation, before surrendering "You have to let her do what she has to do Will ... you have to let her go"

On hearing these, Will gulped hard, Lizzie had just said the words he couldn't bring himself to entertain. "Im not sure I can" he admitted woefully, his forehead wrinkling as he continued to stare at the image of the housekeeper, as he lifted his right hand up to touch it gently.

"Will, she loves h-"

"Don't you think I know that! Don't you think she's made that perfectly clear?" he seethed, his unblinking eyes not leaving that same point upon which they were fixed.

Slightly unnerved by his manner, but resolving that this had to be said. "Good, because your going to have to" Lizzie replied, rather more harshly than she had intended.

This had its desired effect, Will irately swung round to face her, but on seeing her genuine expression, he relinquished "How can I? Have you seen Flora's face?... No of course you haven't, because he wont let her out of her room!"

At this overly-friendly reference to Mrs Ryan, Lizzie flinched, just slightly, there was no escaping the rumours now, things had most definitely moved on from the last time Will had spoken of his esteem for their superior. However, her discomfort went unnoticed by the footman, who continued "How can I 'let it go', how can I leave her at his mercy?"

"Will, your not leaving her anywhere, she's made up her own mind..." Before Will could interject she continued "... You know she'd never go through with it if..."

"She would, she would!" Will insisted, banging both fists simultaneously down onto the mantle, before crossing his arms and burying his head in them briefly, before turning it to face Lizzie, who had edged a little closer to him.

"You don't understand the hold he has over her, I... I can't let her do it. Liz, you of all people know what happened the last time I..." he started, unable to finish, before swinging his hole body round, as though it were a lead weight, only to slump down on the nearest bench, covering his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table.

After this last sentence, it was rapidly becoming all-too-clear where this was going, where he was coming from. Lizzie took stock before starting, "Is that what this is all about?" she gasped, moving to sit on the same bench, arms length from Will, resting her back against the table, her left hand on the bench, supporting her as she leaned in towards him, trying to engage his stare. "Will, you cannot blame yourself for what Mr Jarvis may or may not have done!"

"May not ha- your not that naïve!"

"No Im not, and neither must you be! Will, whatever has gone on, she lov-" she paused as Will bitterly scoffed at her reasoning, but wasn't willing to give up "...and regardless of how it might look right now, he LOVES her, and that's unmistakeable. You cannot possibly compare Mr Jarvis to your father! People have their own ways of-"

"So that makes it ok then? Its just his way is it!"

"No of course it doesn't, but Will, it is NOT up to you to defend her, to defend her against her will!"

"She may think that now, but where will it end!" Will exclaimed

"Well if it wasn't for you, I know exactly where it would have ended - with them happily married!" Lizzie spat back, her impatience at his self-absorption finally bubbling over.

"Oh, so it IS my fault!"

"No Will, NO its not! It never was, don't you see? You cannot carry on this, (she hesitated, trying to find the right words in the heat of the moment) this distorted notion that in protecting others you can somehow undo the past-"

"Undo the past? Liz, I know I'm not bloody miracle worker! My mother is not coming back!"

"No, no, she's not. It may be a different means Will, but its to the same end! You think that if you 'protect' Mrs Ryan from Mr Jarvis that somehow you will relieve this guilt you feel, guilt which is totally mispla-!"

"Misplaced it may be, but it doesn't feel like that to me! It doesn't make it feel any less real to me!"

"Then why are you doing it? How do you think shielding Mrs Ryan from this 'monster' you seem to see Jarvis as, will do that?" Lizzie probed poignantly.

"I .. I don't know, I just want her to happy, I cant help it Liz I l-"

Shaking her head, the maid "I think you think you do" shuffling closer to him, with a deeply worried expression, she could see he was crushingly distressed.

Will had no idea what to say to this, he simply shook his head, his face the epitome of bewilderment, before he started remarkably calmly, given his outward appearance. "Whatever I think it is, what I know is that I've never felt anything like it before, that in that moment it was real, and it kind of still has been ever since"

"But how could it be real if it wasn't mutual?" Lizzie puzzled. She was trying her best to understand, though after her own brief rapport with the footman, this difficulty was increased, for reasons she had been sure no longer existed – why did she always end up feeling concerned about him, after everything that had happened between them? She couldn't find answer, but did increase the distance between them this time, as he concluded "Whether it was mutual or not …" He drifted off once more, his profound confusion rendering his attempted reasoning futile.

For the first time since she'd sat down beside him, he turned to face her, his heavy head titled as it was still propped up by his hand. "What have I done Liz? What if she hates me?"

Now feeling nothing by sorrow for her friend, she answered fervently "She doesn't hate you Will"

"Well she bloody ought to! Ive ruined it for her!"

"Will, it was not all down to you..."

"Maybe not, but I didn't stop it though, I … I pushed her-" Looking up, he saw the somewhat startled look on his companion's face "Not like that, I just didn't leave her alone, I couldn't …God, I hate myself!"

"You couldn't help it, you said so yourself!"

"No, but I could have made things a little easier for her-"

"How? It wasn't you who told Jarvis!"

"No, no it wasn't, but do you know what I told him when he did find out? Oh I enjoyed the harrowing look on his face, I thought 'serves him right' - and after what he's just done, I still do. I ... told ... him that it wasn't just the once, that she couldn't get enough and that she'd never be truly content with him..."

"So you just stood there and gloated, while his whole world fell apart?" Lizzie interpreted, trying to clarify matters.

"Yes" he confessed somewhat matter-of-factly staring down at the table, unable to meet her gaze.

Not quite able to believe what she was hearing, Lizzie quickly gathered up her skirts and got to her feet, at which the footman regained his strength, to look her in the eye, professing "Im not proud of that, but it was the only way I could think of to keep him away from her-"

"Well you messed that one up good and proper didn't you? Because the only thing you've succeeded in doing is breaking her heart!"

"Like she broke mine!" he cried.

"And eye for an eye was it!" Lizzie taunted

"It wasn't like that!" he protested furiously, before sincerely adding "I didn't want to, I didn't … mean to ... he just doesn't deserve her!"

"You may think that is so, but it is not up to you. Whatever you may think of Mr Jarvis, he is a good man, he is doing the honourable thing, however sad the reality of the situation may be, he will provide for her, he will look after her!"

"But will he be able to love her!"

"I don't honestly know. I believe he will, and desperately hope he still does, but ultimately the answer lies between them and no one else. Between them" she reiterated "You must stay away Will. None of us will stand by and let what you've convinced yourself will happen, happen ... but people need to be free to make their own choices, and no amount of any duty you feel you owe can change that. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

Will swivelled his head to face front and after closing his eyes, unsteadily nodded his head in agreement. This, she felt was a suitable moment to depart, but before she had reached the doorway, he called out "Liz..." at which she sheepishly looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Ive missed you, you know." Once again feeling an inexplicable pang, she turned away, taking a step forward.

"Im sorry ... sorry for the way I behaved after ... well, after our little visit. I know you were only doing what you thought was right, you always do, and I should never (his voice faltering just slightly) have reacted and acted so badly as I did"

"I can understand why you did" she started, her eyes still studying the back of the door.

"Can you forgive?" he questioned with a hint of optimism.

No reply came, but just after he closed his eyes regretfully, Lizzie tentatively tiptoed over, and standing at his sided, brushed his fringe away from his forehead, before leaning down to place a kiss. She sat down beside him, only to whisper a handful of words "Forgiven, but not quite forgotten" briefly managing a warm smile, to which Will contently nodded in acknowledgement.

Finally, on reaching the door way, she checked back, to see Will, who was still looking at her, and as she pulled on the handle to draw the door to close, she continued "One step at a time eh? Just think about what I've said" The smile returning, this time with an affectionate little nose wrinkle, which put Will at ease.

Not long after she'd gone, Will found himself looking at the photograph, but on realising what he has doing, he drew a deep breath, stood up boldly and said "ok" before giving a courteous nod to the lady in the front row, before sweeping out of the room, not looking back.

However if Will had finally managed to find some closure on his relationship with the housekeeper, the butler was still struggling with his tumultuous emotions. Tossing over in his sleep Jarvis reached out futilely for Flora, his hands clawing at the empty space beside him, which normally the housekeeper would be filling, a constant source of warmth and comfort, and he was in desperate need of comfort. The events of that evening had seen one of his greatest fears become public knowledge and his dreams were filled with a certain Valet taunting him in front of the rest of the staff, bragging about their many similarities and bringing Flora forward to give evidence of the Butler's violent nature. At the memory of the damage he had wrought on his beloved's face Jarvis shuddered in his fitful sleep, unable to suppress the very real feelings of nausea that welled up causing him to choke in his sleep, gagging Jarvis woke suddenly and grasping the nearby chamber pot he quickly emptied the contents of his stomach.

Gasping for breath the Butler swung his feet out of bed moving to his chest of drawers to pour himself a glass of water to clear the foul taste from his mouth. However on upending the jug he quickly realised he had forgotten to refill it, yet another sign of Flora's continued absence and how much he had become dependant on her doing those little things for him, much like the button from his tartan waistcoat which he still hadn't gotten round to fixing. Shaking his head as he tried to push her from his thoughts he pulled on his dressing gown and walked down the corridor intent on refilling his jug himself however lost in his thoughts he paid no attention to where his feet were taking him and suddenly he looked up and found himself not in the kitchen but standing outside the housekeeper's door.

For a moment he fought against his demons, reminding himself of the many lies and deceptions she had fed him but deep down he knew he wouldn't sleep until he had at least checked on her and saw for himself the extent of the damage he had caused, not just a fleeting glance like before. Molly Watson had a point he had been acting like a bully and a coward, and he had been right to apologise earlier even though the words had stuck in his throat it had at least put that unsettling ghost to rest; perhaps it would be easier and he would finally be able to sleep peacefully if he apologised to Flora for his moment of madness.

Taking a deep breath Walter reached out and seizing the handle gently pushed open the door, however whatever he had been expecting he wasn't expecting to see his fiancé slumped fast asleep in a fireside chair her knitting needles still clasped in her hands. Moving over to her quietly Walter reached down and retrieved the needles from her unresisting hands, careful not disturb her work he held it up so he could study it closely a slight smile twitching at his lips as he recognised an almost complete tiny booty.

"Flora." He whispered softly as he covered her hand softly with his. "You have to wake up you can't sleep here."

Groaning slightly the housekeeper shifted in her sleep raising her free hand to rub her tired eyes. "Walter?" She mumbled.

"Come on now up you come." Jarvis added, pulling her softly out of her chair and leading the sleepy housekeeper over to her bed, dragging back the covers and gently manoeuvring her round to sit on the mattress. "That's my girl now down you go." He whispered softly.

"No I'm not tired-" Flora trailed off yawning loudly.

"Really?" Jarvis chuckled, sporting his first genuine smile in days. "Then why are you yawning?" He added sitting down next to her and he didn't push her away when instead of leaning back against the pillows she rested her head against his shoulder her fingers moving to curl round the fastenings of his dressing gown. "I can't sleep either if that's any consolation, too much going on- And when I do those dreams-." Jarvis trailed off.

"Don't leave me." Flora whispered, nuzzling against his neck.

"You really want me to stay?" Walter asked in amazement. "After-." He trailed off unable to say the words, instead seizing her chin and brushing his fingers gently across her bruised cheek.

"You didn't mean that Walter." Flora whispered. "I know that wasn't the real you, it was my fault I pushed you to it."

"No." Jarvis retorted. "It was just as much me, I just couldn't see past the anger and what with all this Frank business well it was just too much- Can you ever forgive me?"

"What is there that I have to forgive you for?" Flora replied sadly. "You had ever right to act the way you did no matter what anyone else may have said."

"No matter how justified I should never have laid a finger on you, I won't pretend I can just forgive and forget-everything-.But that is no excuse to hurt you and risk hurting our child, I only ever want what is best for them." He added quietly laying his hand softly on her stomach and smiling as he felt the warmth through her thin nightdress.

"I just wish we could welcome the baby into a family that was free from the stain of that monster."

"So there is no chance you are wrong, that Frank is making the whole thing up?" Flora mumbled.

"No I'm afraid not." Jarvis replied rubbing the bridge of his nose as he always did when severely stressed. "It appears no matter what we do we are never going to be rid of him, and to think I have a couple of months cooped up with him on trains and boats till we get to India, how on earth I will squash the impulse to throw him overboard I will never know." He added snorting sarcastically.

"Who says you have to?" Flora retorted sharply, causing the butler to chuckle louder. "I'm sure Andrew would help you make it look like an accident."

"I'm sure he would indeed and talking of our esteemed colleague I do wish you would have a word with him, I've tried warning him to be careful but he seems to ignore whatever I say on the subject-" Jarvis trailed off shifting as he tried to rub some life back into his aching shoulder.

"You mean Rebecca?" Flora replied as she moved gently to massage the knots out of his muscles.

"Yes. They have to learn to be more careful, why the only time the servants stop gossiping about us is when they are spreading slander about Lady Rebecca and her less than convincing period of mourning." Jarvis replied sleepily.

"I know." Flora murmured. "But they love each other and they have so little time left before you leave and she has to return to the highlands. I understand her father is throwing a large Scottish hogmanay party down in London that he has instructed her to attend and she will have several weeks of enduring a public display of mourning before she can escape back to the highlands."

"I do understand Flora." Jarvis replied as he leant back into her embrace. "It can't be easy on either of them, but I warned him at the very start that this could hardly be expected to work out, but he does love to complicate things, I mean bloody twins, one child is obviously not good enough for him and now with his sister here as well..."

"Oh Molly is a treasure." Flora replied. "She's been wonderful to me, but why this preoccupation with twins, you're not jealous are you Walter?" She added teasingly.

Huffing slightly the butler turned round to stare at her in bewilderment. "Jealous I've never so much as looked at her that way-."

"Not Rebecca." Flora cut in laughing. "I meant that he's fathered twins."

"No of course not-" Jarvis retorted sharply before pushing the still chuckling housekeeper back against the pillows and moving to rest his head on her stomach. "And besides how we can we be sure you aren't having twins?" He added rubbing her stomach lovingly. "Or Triplets?" He joked, glancing up at the horrified housekeeper. "Didn't I tell you about that history in my family? It seems to skip a generation so my mother was lucky-" He added in all seriousness before bursting out laughing.

"Walter Corey you dirty rotten liar." Flora retorted punching him playfully in the arm. "That is not a nice joke to play on an already pregnant woman."

"Yes well it's too late to worry about that now what's done is well and truly done." Jarvis added philosophically as he brushed her curls away from her face.

"Yes but if your joke ends up coming true where on earth are we going to put them all? And more to the point what would we call them?" Flora replied softly.

"I'm sure we'd think of something-" Jarvis whispered as he moved to lie next to her.

"But what if you're delayed or I have the baby early? We do need to start talking about names-" Flora began but was cut off when Walter lent forward and kissed her gently.

Breaking their kiss softly Walter pulled away, his fingertips tracing her cheeks and the curve of her brow. "Whatever you decide will be just fine?" he added as he pulled her into his arms nuzzling his face into her hair and for the first time in days he felt a sense of contentment and peace.

"Walter?" Flora whispered softly a few minutes later but there was no answer from the Butler as he had fallen fast asleep, smiling to herself Flora nuzzled her head against his shoulder and grasping her covers pulled them securely over them both. "Goodnight my love." She whispered softly as she too succumbed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning Flora Ryan awoke with a smile on her face, stretching out in her bed she reached out for her future husband but all she found was an empty space beside her, and all trace of Walter had been removed from the room, even the empty water jug had been removed with its owner.

"Walter?" Flora called out pitifully, all her hopes that the night before had buoyed sank like a stone in her stomach and the pain her heart felt even worse than before. Why had he done this? Was it some new form of punishment?

A way of making her really suffer by one moment rekindling their love and the next breaking her heart all over again. However this time she was determined not to let him get away with it, flinging back the covers Flora quickly dressed, haphazardly throwing on her day dress and not even bothering to tie up her abundant dark curls; instead pulling them back in a loose coil before heading out the door. It was too early for breakfast and so it was likely he was in his office, striding down the corridor flora allowed herself to take one final deep breath before pushing open the door and causing the half asleep butler to stat out of his seat, spilling his morning cup of tea all over his book of figures.

"Yes Mrs Ryan?" Jarvis began coldly, unable to look her directly in the eye. "May I ask what it is you want so urgently that you didn't even wait long enough to dress properly?"

"How could you Walter?" Flora began unable to keep the tell tale quaver from her voice. "I mean it was bad enough when you slapped me but at least that was understandable but to come to my room and spend the night in my arms and then leave without-without even a goodbye or an explanation!"

"I have my reasons-" Jarvis retorted, as he mopped up his tea.

"How could you have been so cruel? To be one moment laughing and joking with me about the baby, to let me get my hopes up that maybe one day you could forgive me and we could be a proper family and now this-. Back to the old cold shoulder routine."

"I told you quiet plainly madam we are not resuming our relationship…Last night was an aberration, a momentary weakness that I will not allow to reoccur!" Jarvis hissed, but still there was an underlying quiver in his voice.

"You won't allow?" Flora snapped. "Why do you have to keep fighting this? You love me still and I never stopped loving you, never, not for one moment, not even when you struck me. Why can't you find it in your heart to forgive me, I know you want me back, last night proved…."

"Last night meant nothing!" Jarvis snapped. "You were just there, just like any other willing woman would have been, and besides nothing happened."

"Of course something happened, maybe not physically but it still meant something, you held me and I held you, we slept in each others arms." Flora tried to argue closing the distance between them and gripping his arm tightly.

"Yes and it will never happen again." Jarvis retorted coldly shaking off her hand and pacing to the other side of the room. "Face it Flora I was just using you, I couldn't sleep what with all this horror with Frank, I needed to be with someone to forget, you were convenient!"

"Convenient?" Flora gasped backing towards the door. "How can you say that to me you love me I know you do! We're getting married in two days."

"I don't know what I feel for you anymore, but it certainly isn't love!" Jarvis retorted, flinching when he saw the look of pain and anguish on her face. "And we're marrying for the child, after that it's up to you what you do, stay here or go, or perhaps it would be for the best, for both of us if you went to live in Eastbourne with mother. It would certainly be a better atmosphere for the child after all."

"You want to send me away?" Flora asked shaking her head in disbelief.

"No I only suggested it, but if you can't learn to accept the reality of the situation I might be forced to!" Jarvis retorted.

"No You Listen to ME Walter Corey." Flora replied grasping the door handle as she called back over at him. "I will never leave this house of my own free will, it's my home and the people I love live here, if you have a problem with controlling yourself around me, then YOU leave!" And with that she opened the door slamming it shut behind her and leaving an aghast Jarvis staring after her.

Charlotte had decided what she was going to say to the doctor, she'd planned it out over and over in her mind, however she was still struggling for courage. Would she actually be able to say it when the time came?

Doctor Evans was once again taking her for a quiet stroll around the park, that had seemed a definite hit last time, he just needed to get a few more duck jokes in and he'd be well on his way to her heart.

Charlotte had attempted a couple of times already to breech the nervous subject she was trying to approach, but every time she began to stutter and he'd cut across her. Every time she built up her courage, he'd either begin a new conversation or pull her closer towards him as they walked, which caused her words to stick in her throat and her courage would flop again.

Determined that this time he would not get the better of her, she breathed in deeply and finally just blurted out what she was limp in desperation to say. He froze in mid-sentence and then slightly worryingly for Charlotte, burst out laughing. She looked at him in mock horror, curious as to what had been so funny about her words.

Charlotte: Doctor? Are you quite alright? This caused him to laugh even louder Are you mad! shocked at his hysterical behaviour.

Doctor: Mad! He gasped Oh I do hope not, my dear! Are you quite alright? he mutters to him, chuckling gently.

Charlotte: Would you care to share what about my last words is so amusing?

Doctor: It's just my dear you've said such things before, yet here we are now-

Charlotte: I am quite sincere! After today we will not go walking together again. He nods smiling to himself.

Doctor: You expect to be able to do that when we see each other so often? It was now Charlotte's turn to do the smiling, this would knock the grin off his face.

Charlotte: How will we be able to see each other with me halfway across the world? This did just as hoped, his face suddenly turned sour and he stepped away from her, knocking her arm off his.

Doctor: What do you mean? knowing exactly what she was talking about, but unwilling to say it out loud

Charlotte: Did I forget to mention it? I'll be going to India with the men for 6 months. Despite the seriousness of the situation she was actually quite enjoying watching his face turn from pink to purple.

Doctor: But- but only the men go. he stutters Like when you- they went to Italy. Charlotte was struggling to hold back the laughter now, as she saw his nostrils flare, as his breathing became slow and heavy.

Charlotte: But I went to Italy with the men. Mr Jarvis, foreign maids, says they are so dense they can't even speak their own language properly, so they depend on me to do the odd little things. There is a silence while the doctor's face turns to one of understanding and begins to turn back to it's natural colour ever so slowly.

Doctor: Well I'll be waiting for you to return. 6 months? 8 months? A year? 5? I'd still be waiting for you. The tears slowly well in Charlotte's eyes and she stops him walking and gently runs her hand down the side of his face.

Charlotte: You are a real sweetheart, but I've decided what I'm going to do. As if sensing his question she carried on. My parents have decided that Taplows is too bold a place for little old me and have sent for me. Taplows in a world of sin and I'm to go back home to my own sort of people.

Doctor: Taplows is a world of sin? Is that you talking or the words your mother's fed to you?

Charlotte: Do you think Taplows is the right sort of place for a mere girl like me? The Doctor ponders this question for a good few minutes before looking up into her patient face and finally saying.

Doctor: No. She looks puzzled at this flat answer. I know better than anyone what Taplows is like. I mean if one person got syphilis half the staff would get it but that doesn't mean being amongst your 'own sort of people' is the right answer, what ever the hell that means? He snorts

Charlotte: That means people with the same beliefs as me, good people-

Doctor: So because someone has different beliefs as you that makes them a bad person? Is Mrs Ryan a bad woman because she is pregnant out of wedlock? What about Grace? Are they bad people cause they've done things the 'wrong way'? Are all the footmen bad because they have an occasional urge for drink and money? Does that make them bad people?

Charlotte: Occasional? Trying desperately to think of a new argument I need someone suitable for me to marry. Where am I supposed to find someone I need around here?

Doctor: Suitable? Some vegetable who knows the rules of the church and will care for you and a family? Well tell me, Miss Lewis, will this vegetable be able to make you laugh like I do? Will he be able to-?

Charlotte cutting across him: You ask too many questions. Now will you please take me home.

Doctor: I thought you were more open minded than this. he whispers, not allowing her to break his gaze as he tried to dig for any look of doubt in her eyes, but she seemed to be doing a good job off hiding any look of emotion on her face, this was for the best, it was what she wanted…? Do you think I will not make just as much of a loving husband?

Charlotte beginning to struggle: Home please! And no more questions! she turns and begins to walk back towards the carriage, but he dashes to catch up with her and gently grasps her arm.

Doctor: Just one more question. Marry me?

Meanwhile back at Taplows the preparations for the next day were in full swing, and both Flora and Molly had practically worn themselves ragged trying to get everything organised due to the Earl's last minute change of heart. Originally, as the house was technically still in mourning due to the death of their guest Lord Hugo, the Earl had given instructions that the house was not to be decorated as it usually was, something that usually took weeks of careful planning and days to put up properly; instead there was just going to be the one large tree in the entrance hall and the another in the main drawing room. However as he had informed the senior staff at that mornings meeting which both Flora and Molly had been both fortunate to attend, he had had a change of heart due to the continued presence of children in the house or more to the point, as Andrew had hissed to his sister, because of the pointed snotty remarks Lord Shaftsbury had made over breakfast that morning.

So on top of her usual duties Flora Ryan had been forced to organise an emergency decorating schedule, meal times and breaks had been strictly curtailed and due to Molly's influence they had managed to Shanghais several footmen into helping with the heavy garlands that needed stringing across the walls, the only people not conscripted had been Charlotte who had been fortunate to escape on her day off before the news broke and the Butler who had locked himself in his office with a large stash of cigars, his book of figures and practically half of one of Mr Kraus's finest Christmas cakes.

As a result her scheduled meeting with Mr Abbot a little before lunch went completely out of the stressed housekeeper's mind as she dashed about the house, even the good doctors advice about resting had to be pushed aside, despite all of Emily's constant nagging. However in an effort to compromise and not alienate her future mother in law any further Flora finally agreed to go rest in the still room, well in reality resting was far from the truth but instead of dashing about she contented herself with taking over Grace's duties and making up a batch blackberry jam. It was as she was straining the heavy fruit through the muslin that the census collector finally caught up with her, but instead of knocking on the door he stood for a moment watching her movements closely a wry smile on his face as he mentally undressed her before quietly walking towards her.

"Mrs Ryan!" He called out eventually causing the housekeeper to start just as she was turning round carrying a heavy pot of cooling blackberry juice, her grip on the pottery jug loosening and for a moment time seemed to freeze as they both watched it crash to the floor by Alistair Abbots feet soaking his grey trousers with ugly purple splotches.

"Oh Mr Abbot!" Flora gasped grabbing a nearby cloth and sinking to her knees in an effort to mop up the mess.

"It's alright…." He stuttered. "I'm sure it'll come out."

"Just like a man…" Flora muttered shaking her head. "We have to get that out right away, you'll have to take them off…"

"What!" Abbot retorted.

"We need to get them in soak!" Flora replied slowly as if talking to a two year old.

"But they're my trousers!" Alistair gasped.

"I am well aware of that." Flora muttered from the floor as she tried to mop up the rest of the mess, silently cursing herself for her clumsiness and so missing the look of startled surprise from the gentleman standing above her.

"You want me to take them off now?" He asked, a slight tinge of excitement entering his voice as it seemed to him all his private fantasies were coming true, after all he assumed from the fact she would pose naked for a picture that she was somewhat bolder than most women and he was delighted to have that fact confirmed.

"Well a week next Tuesday will be no good!" Flora remarked a little harsher than normal.

"Well if you insist!" Alistair replied, his hands moving to quickly unbutton his trousers as he thanked his lucky stairs he had chosen to wear his clean pair of long johns that morning but then again with any luck they might be stained as well, his hands practically shaking at the thought of the delightfully forceful housekeeper demanding he strip them off as well then maybe she could….

However his current train of thought was quickly curtailed when an aghast Flora Ryan screeched. "Not in here you stupid man!"

"But you said…" Abbot began.

"Yes but goodness anyone could see you." Flora retorted. "Go up to your room and take off anything that is in the least bit stained, I will join you in a moment or two…"

"You will join me?" Abbot asked excitedly.

"Well hurry up will you, I don't have all day, once I've sorted you out I've got a handful of fractious footmen to see to, personally I think if their mothers had smacked their legs more often as children I wouldn't have to be so hard on them but its for their own good, well get on with you I haven't all day I'm a woman with many demands on her time!" Flora snapped, not even favouring the quivering chap with a backwards glance as she set another pot on to boil.

"Shall I change? I mean I did bring an appropriate 'outfit', I just hope you approve!" Abbot replied nervously as he edged towards the door. "I mean I hope I'm not overstepping the boundaries by asking but if you'd give me your opinion on it as I've never worn it before…" He babbled nervously and practically to himself.

Consumed in her work Flora barely registered what he said, instead nodding distractedly and so missing the look of delight and relief on the weedy man's face.

"Oh thank you." Abbot whispered, as he headed out the door. "I am so grateful that you could deal with me personally, I've heard so many wonderful things about you…There are so many things I'd like to ask if you have the time later." He added hopefully.

Catching the last part of his sentence Flora nodded once more, "Of course after I'm done I expected to answer some questions, after all that was the whole point of your visit was it not!" She retorted sharply. "Now go get changed before I have no time to sort you out!"

"Yes Madam." Abbot practically squeaked with excitement before dashing off down the corridor causing the puzzled housekeeper to finally look up from her work and stare quizzingly at his fleeing form before shaking her head and getting back to work.

Ten minutes later Flora Ryan made her away along the upstairs corridor knocking politely on Mr Abbots door she called out to their guest. "Are you presentable Mr Abbot." On hearing a muffled squeak of a yes she pushed open the door, for a moment squinting as the curtains had been drawn and the room was lit only by a few candles, however as soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness she spotted something that shocked the life out of her, the very pale and pimpled bottom of one Alistair Abbot.

"Mr Abbot!" She shrieked backing up against the door as the confused census collector started up from the bed, hopping futilely as his ankles had been shackled together before loosing his balance and collapsing on the floor in a sobbing heap.

"What is it? Where did I do wrong?" Alistair spluttered as he pulled off his leather mask. "Did I put it on wrong or perhaps I shouldn't have gotten on the bed? I've never done this before…I thought you knew that….God I'm so embarrassed." He trailed off burying his head in his hands.

"What do you mean….?" Flora asked the humour of the situation quickly overcoming any feelings of panic she had first experienced.

"My friend at home…Well he told me about you, rave reviews apparently, he told me it would better to start with someone who knew exactly what they were doing, please don't leave just tell me what I've done wrong…I'll do anything you tell me to, I am your willing slave in everything…." Abbot added as if reciting from something before kneeling at her feet.

"He told you about ME!" Flora snorted as she backed as far away from the grovelling man, trying to keep her eyes averted from certain exposed areas of anatomy. "For goodness sake stop that and cover yourself up its most off putting!" She shrieked as Abbot tried to kiss her feet. "I don't think I've ever been connected with….with anything like this.." Flora replied waving her hand over the bizarre assortment of objects that lay scattered about the room

"But I can't be wrong!" Alistair blurted out pulling away and rummaging in his open suitcase for the dog-eared letter, standing up he grabbed awkwardly at the cover from his bed wrapping it around his midriff before walking close enough to her to pass her the letter.

Snatching it quickly Flora quickly glanced down at the tatty paper, scanning the first few lines she ignored the friendly banter until she came across the reference he had mentioned, for a moment her eyes bulged in shock but then all the pieces began to fall into place; 'Housekeeper at Taplows' and 'clergyman are a specialty'. "You've got the wrong housekeeper!" Flora blurted out laughing so hard she had lean on the door for support.

"What!" Abbot gasped, his entire frame shaking with embarrassment as his face turned, if possible, a deeper shade of red than before. "But he said he would write to you and tell you I was coming…"

"I believe your 'friend' is referring to a temporary housekeeper we had here over the summer, a Catherine Stanwick." Flora snorted out, giggling as visions of Cat involved in such practices drifted through her mind. "In fact we did have some post for her a few weeks ago, but we forwarded it to her last address."

"Oh god no!" Alistair moaned sliding down the wall his head once more in his hands. "I thought that you…I mean I was certain after I found that picture."

"What picture?" Flora snapped.

"The one in your desk…." Alistair mumbled. "I thought that perhaps you'd left it there for me, as sort of a sign."

"It was hidden in the locked bottom drawer of my desk, how much more hidden and private could it have been!" Flora retorted angrily, a touch of colour finally creeping over her porcelain cheeks as she imagined exactly what he must have thought on seeing it.

"So you're not involved in any of this then?" Alistair muttered sadly. "I just made yet another cock up, that's the story of my life I suppose…. I know it must seem wicked to you but I was so looking forward to this, it's all that's kept me going for months."

"Well…." Flora replied an unusually evil glint entering her eye as she contemplated the situation. "It seems such a shame for you to come all this way for nothing!"

"What? You don't mean you'd…." Alistair mumbled, tripping over his words in his haste and excitement.

"Oh not me." Flora replied softly.

"Oh." Abbot replied crestfallen.

"I meant there is still a chance for you to keep your original appointment, you see as Mrs Stanwick now lives in Tappleton at the Vicarage…."

"Do you think if I went to see her she might…?" He asked tentatively.

"Oh I'm sure she would!" Flora added smiling sweetly to cover the malicious glee in her expression. "How about I go and sort out the stain on your trousers whilst you pack your….your belongings?" Flora replied waving distractedly at the assortment of items around the room, unable to stop her eyes widening as she saw the most bizarre….

"Oh thank you, if there is ever anything I can do in return?" Alistair chatted happily as he dashed to fill his suitcase, his sheet slipping dangerously in his haste.

"You can keep yourself covered up for one!" Flora snapped. "But actually there is something, well two things actually, don't mention this little misunderstanding to Mrs Stanwick and also I'd like my picture back if you don't mind."

"Oh of course!" Abbot chorused, then somewhat bashfully he slipped his hand down under his sheet and pulled out her still warm picture.

Taking it somewhat reluctantly from his outstretched hand, Flora resisted the urge to gag and cram it into her pocket, and trying desperately to keep her thoughts from wondering exactly to where he had been keeping it she smiled sweetly and gathering up his trousers headed out the door. Once in the corridor she had to fight the titters that had built up inside her, and striding off down the corridor she made up her mind to find Rebecca as soon as the trousers were in soak, this was one piece of gossip she was certain her friend would enjoy hearing.

An hour later in Lady Rebecca's room, she and Flora hadn't laughed so hard together since the awful trick on Andrew. In fact Rebecca could hardly breathe as Flora told her the story, tears streaming down her cheeks as she doubled over on her bed until her chest and stomach ached with the strain.

"Oh…too….funny….!" Rebecca managed to pant, dabbing her eyes daintily with a lace handkerchief and joining an equally amused Flora on her chaise. She giggled to herself then leant in and whispered in Flora's ear through intermittent snorts of laughter. "Was he…you know…..well….pleased to see you!"

"Yes, very pleased, grinning from ear to ear - it was a very good job that it was me who walked in and not Mrs Watson!" Flora chuckled, trying desperately to hold steady her teacup as she sipped the hot contents.

"No, no, my dear!" Rebecca giggled, a naughty glint in her wide eyes as she gently touched her friend's elbow and whispered again in mild exasperation. "I mean, what he PLEASED to see you, you said he wasn't keeping anything to the imagination, so – you know what I mean, Flora!"

Flora frowned, but in a horrified moment it dawned on her just exactly what the respectable Lady was suggesting and she nearly choked on her tea, spluttering half her mouthful back into the teacup. She wasn't actually sure if Rebecca's continuing laughter was at her reaction to such an idea or to the suggestion itself.

"Oh but Rebecca, he was so SMALL, I'm not sure one way or the other! He may have been almost climactic at my presence but I certainly didn't notice if he was!" Flora gasped, sniggering into her hand, amazed at her own openness as her friend fell into a fresh wave of hysterics. "And I don't just mean the poor man's thin arms and legs! I just didn't know where to put my eyes, thank goodness he gave me that letter to read, otherwise I may have just laughed in his face until he put his long johns back on!"

After a few minutes of indulging in further crude insinuations at the expense of Mr Abbot, both women finally regained control of themselves enough to eat some cake.

"I am so pleased to see you laughing again my dear." Rebecca sighed, her throat hurting from the sheer intensity of her laughter. "I was so worried about you, and after I heard about….well…" Rebecca trailed off, studying Flora's bruise for a moment before looking away, as if it had suddenly occurred to her that it wasn't any of her business.

"Don't you worry about me." Flora muttered, taking her friend's hand firmly and forcing a reassuring smile onto her face. "There's little point in using up your precious energy concerning yourself over me, you need all the strength you can get, especially as you're expecting twins."

Rebecca returned her smile and drew her friend into a gentle hug. "I only hope you heed your own advice, Flora darling. I know you, you tell me – quite rightly – what I should be doing to look after myself, then the next thing I hear you're working yourself into the ground again."

"Well I have the firm mind of Walter's mother keeping me in check, not to mention Molly Watson, who has been a Godsend. I really hope she and I may become friends, sometimes I feel so alone." Flora's smile fell away and Rebecca was sure she saw her eyes glaze with unshed tears. "Anyway." Flora breathed after a moment's silent reflection, glancing at Rebecca's clock then gathering up the teacups. "It was wonderful to talk to you Rebecca. The business with Mr Abbot has certainly done wonders to lighten my mood, but I MUST get on, so much to do before tomorrow and poor Mr Kraus is in one of his tizzies over his stuffing – something about not having the right herbs and cranberries – so unless Mrs Watson has found a way of calming him down I had better intervene before some poor kitchen girl feels his wrath."

"If you need any help at all with the wedding, you only need to ask." Rebecca said as she walked over to her wardrobe. She paused, her eyes searching Flora for a moment as her brow furrowed in concentration, then with a quiet 'hmmm' Rebecca opened the wardrobe door and reached up to the top shelf, pulling out a large cream box. "I presume you haven't had chance to sort out a dress, what with everything lately."

"Well no." Flora shrugged, looking a little crestfallen. "It's such a shame but I haven't given it much thought. Emily has been nagging me to sort something out, but I expect I will just wear one of my Sunday dresses, I've hardly worn one of them."

"No, no, that won't do!" Rebecca tutted, throwing open the lid of the box and carefully pulling back the tissue paper inside. "You can't just wear anything, it's the most special day of your life. This is what I was meant to wear for Hugo, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate in the end so it's just sat in its box since it was made. I want you to try it, Flora. We're about the same, it may fit you. I can try to alter it if needs be."

"Oh, I couldn't." Flora gasped, marvelling at the beautiful ivory gown which Rebecca unfolded in front of her. She guessed that the silk fabric alone would cost her almost a year's wages alone, not to mention labour and the delicate beading around the low cut lace collar. The skirts were full and hooped and there was a fine organdy sash about the waist which would flatter even the fullest of figures.

"Please, try it on. For me." Rebecca smiled enthusiastically, handing it to Flora who took hold of it without a word, handling it so carefully as if she expected it would fall apart in her grasp. "Here, I'll help." Rebecca insisted, helping Flora unfasten her dress then climb into the wedding dress, Flora all the while stunned into silence at such fine material encasing her body. She was used to the best clothes her wages would allow, which would generally be the best there was at the dressmakers in Tappleton, but nothing of this quality. Not even Walter could afford to buy her even the simplest garment made out of this.

"It's…..stunning." Flora managed to say as she stared back at herself in Rebecca's full length mirror. It was a little tight, but other than that it was perfect. The bodice had the daintiest flowers embroidered on it, and Flora carefully ran her fingers over the needlework.

"Oh Flora, you look far better than I ever did in it." Rebecca beamed, clasping her hands together and blinking back a tear for the perfect day that never was with Hugo. "You must wear it, I insist."

To Rebecca's complete surprise, Flora suddenly burst into tears in front of the mirror, the tears instantly streaming down her cheeks. Rebecca dashed over to grab a handkerchief so Flora could catch her tears before they dropped onto the dress then pulled her into a hug, soothing her with innocuous words of comfort. She knew exactly what the problem was, how her friend's heart was torn between marrying the man she first fell in love with and the man she was worried he was becoming. She kissed Flora's forehead as the housekeeper's sobs subsided and she fell quiet.

"Come now, Flora dear! You can't go getting the dress all soggy can you?" Rebecca chuckled. "Anyway, it's probably bad luck to cry in your wedding dress or something, so you'd better get it off and put it back in the box, you'll get to wear it again soon enough!"

"Thank you." Flora muttered, squeezing Rebecca's arm affectionately. "I will return it to you completely unstained, I promise."

"Oh goodness, I will be surprised if it gets returned COMPLETELY unstained darling!" Rebecca exclaimed, smiling naughtily and nudging Flora as she unbuttoned her. Flora couldn't help a shocked gasp, although she wondered why she was even surprised at Rebecca's lewd comments any more. She missed Rebecca's company when she was stuck back in the servants quarters, although she had a sneaking feeling that Molly could be equally feisty and forthright - or indeed she certainly hoped she would be anyway.

"You will come to the wedding, won't you?" Flora asked, finishing fastening her day dress as Rebecca put the wedding gown back in the wardrobe so Jarvis wouldn't go nosing around in boxes which wouldn't concern him.

"Flora, you KNOW I wouldn't miss it for the world, of course I will be there." Rebecca muttered softly, handing the tray to Flora. "And I have just the dress! Admittedly I need to take it out at the waist, I may ask Lizzie to alter it for me tomorrow – before she becomes a little merry on mulled wine of course, I wouldn't want to look vulgar on your special day!"

As Flora and Rebecca stepped out of her room, their quiet chatter was interrupted by a loud cough down the hallway and quickening footsteps. Rebecca sighed impatiently when she saw who it was, rolling her eyes knowingly at Flora who was rudely shoved out of the way before she could bid her leave.

"Leave us now!" Lady Francesca barked in Flora's face before stepping in front of her, not even gracing her with eye contact. "Go about your duties, you have no business with my sister."

"Of course, m'Lady." Flora mumbled, catching Rebecca's eye before hurrying away with the tray but keeping an ear to the conversation between the two sisters from around the corner through concern for her friend.

"Excuse me, Francesca! But Flora is my friend and I will not have you speaking to her like that!" Rebecca fumed, turning to walk down the hallway as she quelled the urge to slap the smug grin right off her sister's face.

"It just shows how little friends you DO have if you have to spend your leisure time with the servants, Rebecca sweetheart." Franny called after her, laughing at her observation.

Rebecca spun round, her breathing laboured as she thought up all the insults she could hurl at Franny if she were pushed.

"Talking of which, why don't you just admit it?" Francesca spat in her most venomous voice, curling her thin lip and staring in disgust at Rebecca's stomach.

"Admit what?" Rebecca replied tersely, as Franny stepped slowly towards her until she was blocking her path. When Franny simply tutted in mock exasperation, Rebecca shook her head and tried to barge past her sister, but instead of letting her pass freely Franny snatched at Rebecca's wrist and yanked her backwards, causing Rebecca to gasp in shock.

"Oh, don't look so aggrieved, dear sister." Franny snorted as Rebecca tried to wriggle her arm free, glancing up and down the corridor and not knowing whether she wanted someone to help or for nobody to see this humiliation.

"Like I say, you should just admit it! You've been hiding it all this time, a little slut who can't keep her hands off the servants!"

Rebecca's mouth fell open. Franny hadn't so much as spoken to her for days, let alone with such strong words, and she wondered what on earth could have triggered such an unprovoked verbal assault. Even for Franny it was a little out of the blue. "I think you should take that back, Francesca!" She said breathlessly, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Well it is true!" Franny hissed. "The thought of you and Andrew Adams makes me sick….!"

"Keep your voice down!" Rebecca interrupted desperately, managing to wriggle her wrist free as Franny took her forcibly by the sleeve and dragged her along the corridor and into her and Monty's bedroom. Franny shoved her sister hard against the bed, Rebecca just managing to grasp the bedpost to stop her from tripping over her own petticoats and falling hard to the floor. She couldn't bear to think what may have happened if she had collided with the carpet instead of the welcome cushioning of the mattress.

"How dare you push me, you know what fragile state I'm in!" Rebecca cried, scrambling back to her feet but keeping her distance, one hand sliding protectively under her small bump.

"Oh, save your self-pity for your lover boy, it's not my fault you've got yourself into such a mess, I bloody well warned you enough times! I take it he knows you're carrying his child, or are you lying to him as well as your family and friends!" Franny snorted, glaring furiously down her nose as Rebecca's pretty face hardened in anger.

"I will not speak to you about this, it is none of your business Francesca, do not make me say things I may regret……!" Rebecca began, but trailed off as Franny sauntered towards her, laughing spitefully under her breath.

"Oh I think you've done enough to regret for one lifetime, my dear!" Franny whispered harshly. "And now you've got father thinking that Andrew Adams' bd child is Hugo's – you've inherited everything of his and Adams' spawn will get it all if it's a boy – and sod's law says it is – when what it really deserves is having its scrawny neck wringing from birth…..!"

As quick as a flash Rebecca raised her hand to strike a blow on her sister's plump cheek, but in her tired state she wasn't quite quick enough and Franny managed to grab her arm firmly, sinking her nails into her sister's soft flesh. Rebecca whimpered and winced in pain as Lady Francesca laughed in her face.

"I don't think so, Rebecca darling! Save it for your kinky activities with the under-butler!" Franny mocked cruelly, dropping Rebecca's arm after one final sharp squeeze. Rebecca staggered backwards, feeling rather light-headed and she thought she felt a pain in her abdomen. Her heart was beating wildly and she vowed there was no way on this earth her vindictive sister was going to ruin her life again by harming her child – her children.

"What were you planning to do, eh?" Franny asked curtly. "Run off with him? Shame the entire family? Let the whole of society know what a little tart you really are, Rebecca Farquarson!"

"How can you say such things, when you've been up to exactly the same thing!" Rebecca blurted out, unable to prevent herself any longer from telling her just what gossip she had heard. She almost smiled when she saw the look of absolute horror on her younger sister's round face. "You shouldn't look so shocked that I have heard certain things! You think I'm bad, you're the most indiscreet woman under this roof it seems! Yes the maids may say things about me, but YOU! Frank Keneally they all say, I'm sorry sister but your choice in men is abhorrent, and now I hear that you too are with child? Seems a little too coincidental if you ask me!"

"It's a lie!" Franny breathed in panic. "I am with child yes, but it's Monty's, how dare you question my fidelity to my husband, you're nothing but a common whore and I am a respectable lady and I am ashamed to have you associated with the Farquarson name!"

"You know full well it's not Monty's!" Rebecca laughed dismissively, edging towards the door as she ranted. "I know it, you know it, and Monty certainly knows it! He doesn't love you, he doesn't even care for you any more, anyone with an ounce of sense can see that you've driven the poor man to the edge! And those beautiful children of yours, do you even know they exist half of the time!"

"Get out!" Franny fumed under her breath, her pale complexion turning crimson.

"So have you told Keneally he's now surplus to requirements?" Rebecca asked mockingly, raising her eyebrows as she felt her temperature begin to soar again and her skin burn against her corset. "I presume you've got a new conquest in your sights. Who was it that was Jennifer's father, the one you dropped like burning coal? Oh yes, I remember now, that butler of yours wasn't it? Not your usual sort but I presume you felt the urge for a bit of the older man, am I right? Nothing wrong with that, in fact I commend you for it, an older man can be somewhat more experienced between the sheets, and as you know I know that first hand. Looks like this is developing into a family trait!"

"Are you deaf? I said get out!" Franny growled slowly, every word she spoke getting slightly louder than the last.

"You know nothing about me, and I will not be lectured to by a little madam like you who can't even mourn her dead husband without climbing into bed with her piece of rough at the first opportunity!"

If Franny hadn't had her back to the door, she would have seen the person who had quietly pushed the door open and was standing motionless behind her, his eyes narrowed in anger. Rebecca saw him instantly, catching his eye but not letting on to Franny for a moment that he was there, instead letting her eyes flitter from his back to her sister's blotched and contorted face. Rebecca was sure that Francesca must be having some sort of allergic reaction to something her complexion was so red, and her cheeks seemed to be puffing up, but she had seen her in this state only once before, straight after their mother died.

Lady Farquarson had been a loving, caring and complimentary mother – to Rebecca. To Franny, she was cold and indifferent, calling her 'fat' and 'ugly' in front of her society friends, telling her she would never find a husband looking so dowdy and plain. Franny had turned on her sister on hearing the news of her death, when she was only 13 and Rebecca 15, and had accused her of poisoning their mother by emptying half a bottle of laudanum into her soup. Sure enough, Lady Farquarson had indeed been poisoned, but it was nothing to do with soup. Although they were only young at the time, Rebecca was shrewd enough to know that her sister's wicked insinuation may very well have been a cover. The doctor had reported 'accidental death', Lady Farquarson taking an overdose of opium 'by mistake'. It had confused Rebecca even at such a tender age and thought it to be very strange indeed that her mother would 'accidentally' dissolve a number of opium tablets in her drinking water before taking her usual dose before bed.

It seemed hardly coincidence to Rebecca that Franny was now in such a similar state to her reaction to their mother's death twelve years ago – a reaction wracked with guilt, hate and downright lies.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving, but I pity Monty if he ever finds out just what you've been up to!" Rebecca snorted, doing her best to keep focused and to stop herself from looking over Franny's shoulder. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest for goading her sister into confessing, but that soon melted away when Franny exploded at her with the full truth, warts and all.

"You really are a sadistic cow aren't you!" Franny screeched, taking a pace towards Rebecca and backing her up against the bed. "Alright then, have it your way! Yes, I slept with Frank Keneally, not once, not twice, but – damn, d'you know I've lost count! And do you know why! Eh!"

Rebecca shook her head, keeping firmly silent as Francesca dug her own grave, lay in it and shovelled the dirt over herself. "I'll tell you why!" Franny growled as the unexpected visitor's face began to pale. "Because I am so sick to death of that no-good husband of mine, I wouldn't even mind if he'd managed to give me more than one of the children I produced! Certainly it all started out not too bad, the first is his of course, but after that, well let's just say he completely lost interest in me – he humiliated me through rejection, not that you would care! So yes I strayed, but Bartholomew was there for me at a time of crisis!"

Rebecca's jaw dropped and she blinked in disbelief as her sister's incredible revelations started coming thick and fast. "What, you mean – your husband's own brother, how could you Francesca!"

"I couldn't face the thought of people talking because we had no more children, and I just wouldn't allow Christopher to be an only child, think what people would say!" Franny cried, tears springing to her eyes. "I had to find affection elsewhere and Bartholomew gave it to me, but I did it to save my marriage!"

"I bet he did!" Rebecca snapped. "And more than once I'll wager! Save your marriage my foot, sister dear, you just can't help yourself can you! Come to think of it, Robin does bear a resemblance to Barty but I always put it down to the family bloodline! Did you carry on seeing him after Robin was born? Are you sure that Jennifer isn't his too!"

"Oh no, Jennifer certainly isn't Barty's, he didn't want to know after Robin appeared on the scene, was too worried dear old Monty would find out and cut off his allowance, he always was a shifty little scrounger!" Franny fumed, her hands firmly on her plump hips. "No, that little brat is only half aristocratic blood I'm afraid, but what was I to do! Harold Phillips gave me entertainment in the evenings, which was more than Montgomery ever did – most of the time when he was away 'on business' I was left alone in a big house, so why shouldn't the butler do his duty and keep his mistress company!"

"Yes, but one thing's company Franny, another is……." Rebecca began but Franny cut her off with a put-out grunt.

"Oh, how are you one to talk! No I had good reason for my actions unlike you, you have the pick of any well-bred man in this country and who do you choose! Some pond life, some bit of scum not worthy to spit on my shoes! No I have to take what I can get, I'm afraid, but even I wouldn't stoop quite that low!" Franny squeaked, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes.

"So why Frank Keneally of all people! Thought you'd try him out, give him a go, see if he compared to your string of lovers? You talk about stooping low, Franny, but Keneally really is at the bottom of the ladder!" Rebecca sniffed, desperate to look up and see the reaction on the face of the man at the door.

"Oh, Frank was easy, as easy as they come." Franny smirked. "And he's good, don't know why you turned him down when he offered his most valuable services to you! He puts Monty, Bartholomew and Harold all to shame! I've never had a lover like it, we're compatible in more than one respect, but I've no further use for him now he's done his job. Doesn't mean I can't have some more fun, though, does it?"

"And what on earth do you mean by that?" Rebecca frowned, for one fleeting moment thinking that Franny may want to get her claws into her Andrew before dismissing it outright from her mind.

Franny simply sniffed out a laugh and looked Rebecca up and down in distain. "Oh," Franny whispered, leaning right into Rebecca's face. "Wouldn't you just like to know that?"

"Yes, my dear, please do share with us who you're planning on letting into our bed, I am most intrigued." Monty announced, a slight souring to his tone as he slammed the door shut causing both women to jump. Franny swung round, horror rapidly spreading across her features and her mouth opening and shutting as if she were one of the Earl's carp. Rebecca couldn't help the small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lips as disgust flittered over Monty's fine face.

"Monty my darling." Franny began in earnest, her voice faltering as a huge lump lodged itself in her throat. She began to feel dizzy as the flushing on her face intensified but Monty's eyes hardened on his wife, Rebecca's presence seemingly incidental.

"Maybe I should leave now…….." Rebecca began but Monty cut her off with a wave of the hand.

"Oh no, Rebecca, you must stay and listen to my darling wife, she obviously wishes to share all of her experiences with us, my, my, I'm amazed that she has managed to restrained herself for so long, aren't you Becca?" Monty practically spat in his wife's face as she backed away from him.

"Please Monty, don't get angry, I was only joking – I made it all up, you KNOW Robin and Jennifer are yours………" Franny breathed, reaching out to touch her husband's arm as Rebecca slid towards the door, desperate to escape unnoticed. She could listen outside the door, she didn't want to be caught in the middle of what should essentially be a private argument.

"Tomorrow," Monty hissed, snatching his arm away, angrier than Franny had ever seen him before as he stabbed his finger accusingly at her. "Tomorrow, you will spend the entire day up here, you will NOT leave this room for dinner, and the children will be told you are too sick to join them! You have made a fool out of me, and I will not be trifled in this way Francesca! I am bored of the sight of you, and as for your whoring ways I am beyond caring any more! Do what the hell you like, but do NOT brag about it to your sister, your disgusting behaviour does not need to be common knowledge!" Monty turned to leave as Rebecca hurried out of the door, but to his shock Franny yelled back at him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stamped her foot childishly.

"Where are you going now! Back to HER! How dare you lecture me then run off to your mistress!" Franny screamed at the top of her lungs, but instead of shouting back Monty simply turned to her and shook his head calmly, much to his wife's further irritation.

"From now on, you will NEVER know where I'm going, or what I'm doing, I don't owe you explanations any longer! You will not speak to me unless I speak to you first!" With that final retort, Lord Hamilton-Hussey followed Rebecca out, leaving Francesca sobbing loudly in a sorry heap in the middle of the bedroom floor.

Next morning, the staff were up and about before the sun had even done them the pleasure of rising. Both Andrew and Flora had managed to shout themselves hoarse by 9, barking at any poor servant who walked past to do this or that. Even Mr Jarvis had been driven out of the seclusion of his office to give out instructions that he knew Adams and Mrs Ryan would forget. The two members of staff had exchanged annoyed glances, as he made a sudden appearance and bawled commands at the members of staff they were directing.

When all members of senior staff seemed to have skulked off to carry out their own duties Grace had cornered Charlotte and dragged her into the servants hall, where the footmen were putting up the final additions to the below stairs minimal set of decorations, to ask her about her conversation with the striking doctor the day before.

Even if things seemed to be settling down slowly the kitchen was still in an absolute pandemonium, Felix was hardly giving himself time to breath, never mind his staff, shouting in every direction and cursing loudly at any sign of Lizzie's untimely absence.

Felix: Your gravy has no texture! Are you a total bloody clot! He yelled in one direction at one of his unfortunate maids and These carrots are almost black! Do you have any sense whatsoever or did your bitch of a mother kick it out of you at the age of 9 when you burnt the god damn carrots! He screamed at another. Already, no less than 7 workers in his kitchen had felt his hand sharply collide with the back of their heads. Why on earth should Felix Kraus waste his life in such a place! Finally he decided to go and retrieve a few lingering servants off their backsides, leaving his staff to mutter a few things about the condition of his sanity.

Fred/Grace spinning around to look at Charlotte: You said what!

George: Fred you bugger! Hold the ladder! Fred quickly spins back round and holds the ladder George was at the top of.

Charlotte: Well you didn't think if he popped the question I'd say yes?

Fred/Grace: Yes!

Grace: Are you completely insane? Just look at him for one thing.

Charlotte: But the other day… you were saying that… She trailed off, confused.

Fred: We may have been taking the piss the other day Charlotte but you'd be really stupid to throw away an offer like this.

Joe: He's right. Here George. passing some tacky Christmas wall hanging to George.

George: What the hell is this?

Fred: It's art Georgie boy.

George: Looks more like a tatty bit of curtain that's been fished out a bin. Leaning back slightly so he could see the 'thing' in full view, trying desperately to figure out what was on it.

Joe: Lottie, he'd look after you, give you all the support you'd need, what more do you want?

Fred: He ain't poor either, you probably wouldn't have to work again.

Grace: Or he said you'd make a good nurse, maybe you could be his personal assistant. Fred sniggers at this, shaking the ladder dangerously. Grow up. She scowls. I thought the other day you decided you and Doctor Evans were going to have a proper conversation about this?

Charlotte: I said I'd tell him how I feel, which I did! But then he dropped this on me and now- now I'm even more bewildered… She rests her head on the cool wood of the table, allowing a few tears to trickle down her face. Carefully, Grace wraps her arms around her and pulls her in for a comforting cuddle, Fred following.

George: Matkin!

Fred: Shut it George, she's upset!

Grace: Since when have you ever cared about anyone but yourself?

George: He doesn't seem to care if I fall off this ladder! Climbing swiftly down as it begins to wobble riskily, planning on joining the other to comfort Charlotte. This however is the precise moment Felix storms through the door, after picking up most of their conversation down the corridor.

Felix: Oh for gods sake! Get over it! Stop moping about and get in that kitchen! She chocks slightly on her tears, looking up at him in shock, causing him to roll his eyes. Just marry the gorgeous b! He freezes for a moment, while the rest of the staff begin to giggle and mutter, unable to believe their ears. Felix coughs slightly, suddenly finding a stain on his mucky apron highly interesting. Move now! Both of you! Charlotte and Grace jump up and hurry out after him, leaving the footmen to chuckle to themselves.

Fred: That… was… just… the… best! he splutters I'm gonna wet myself! Trying desperately to regain control over his laughter as well as his bladder… but he was too late.

However as much as the staff would have preferred to stand around and gossip all day about the Doctors surprise proposal there was much too much to be done, and if it wasn't the senior staff bawling at them then it was Chef throwing things at any poor servant who happened to enter his kitchen at the wrong moment. Poor Johnny got the worst of it as when he had simply popped his head round the door to wish the maids a Merry Christmas he caught a sudden blow to the head from the business end of Mr Kraus's largest wooden spoon, and he scurried quickly away holding his throbbing ear and ignoring the many curses and threats Chef threatened if he put so much as a finger back in his kitchen.

The only breather that the staff had all day was the morning trip to church, for the Christmas service and despite the still negative associations with the place Flora Ryan got a sense of smug satisfaction as she noted the particularly frosty atmosphere between Reverend Postlebery and his new bride. As she had left the church Cat hadn't been able to resist sashaying over to the housekeeper.

"Oh Mrs Ryan so good to see you up and about!" She added in a sickly sweet tone. "I am so looking forward to coming up to the big house for Christmas dinner, I suppose the servants will have a small party downstairs, perhaps I might pop down and say a quick hello, but of course I might not be able to I mean I would hardly be appropriate to leave a conversation with their ladyships to go and mix with the servants…" Cat trailed off spitefully.

"Oh that is such a pity…" Flora retorted mockingly as she gratefully accepted Walter's arm as he moved to escort her home. "Isn't it Walter….And to thing we had someone who was especially wanting to meet you the other day, I wonder did he get round to paying you a visit?" She added innocently, her internal glee growing as she saw the superior expression suddenly slip off of Cat's face.

"I don't know what you mean Mrs Ryan." Cat snapped her bottom lip trembling for a moment before she retorted nastily. "However I do suppose I should take this opportunity to wish you both the best, as I hear from my beloved Reginald that you are finally going to be married, on Boxing Day of all days!" She chortled at her own joke.

"Indeed!" Jarvis retorted, entering the conversation for the first time. "We leave for London the next day after all." He added as he locked his iron gaze on the Reverend's wife a slight smile playing about his lips as he saw her quail slightly.

"Well I suppose haste is the best policy considering the circumstances…" Cat retorted, glancing down to Flora's stomach, which the housekeeper instinctively raised a hand to cover as if to ward off Cat's evil eye. "It's just such a shame Regi won't be able to perform the ceremony as we already have plans, but I hear you have a lovely young chap doing the honours, such a nice boy, a little inexperienced and as for that stutter of his…Regi feels he won't go as far as he could because of that but I suppose that won't be the most important thing… Do let me know if I can help with anything, I suppose you have everything in hand although it'll be such a shame not to have the full works, choir and reception and all that, but I suppose at least you've sorted out the dress… I would have offered you mine Flora dear but I suppose white wouldn't have been appropriate considering…." Cat trailed off.

"Actually…" Flora retorted. "I have sorted out the dress, it is ivory I always thought white is too harsh, I mean after all most of us only get married once and it is traditional, although I suppose if you keep your dress out sight and neatly pressed who knows when you'll get to wear it again… Goodness is that time? DO have a merry Christmas Mrs Postlebery." Flora added evilly, catching the amused glint in Walter's eye as he tried to suppress the impulse to laugh at Cat's outraged expression.

It wasn't until late that evening that the staff were able to gather again, the tables in the main servant's hall had been pushed together and half of the places had already been filled. The footmen were lounging along one side of the long table many rubbing their weary calves and ankles, most moaning generally about the length time they had been in the dining room having to stand to rigid attention.

"You know I almost felt like clocking that bloody Reverend over the head with the bottle of Chablais by the end of the meal…" Fred moaned as he rubbed his growling stomach in an effort to appease it.

"I know he was putting it away at almost the same rate as Lord Julian." George piped up, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds for Grace, leaning deliberately over the seat next to him to ensure he saved it for her.

"You should have seen his wife's face, deary old catty Cat." Will added. "She barely spoke to him when they were leaving, and the look she shot him when he couldn't get into their carriage by himself, mind you its poor old Johnny I feel sorry for, I mean first that blow from Kraus then being trodden on by fatty Postlebury, and if that wasn't enough he was the poor sod who had to clean up the mess our noble and dignified Reverend made in his carriage before they were even out of the driveway."

"Well where is the silly bugger?" Joe asked as he threw his wig down on the table rubbing his head. "Oh and talking of silly bugger's I'm glad that Mr Abbot's finally left, I know he was only here a day or so but there was something about him that just made me skin creep… What did he ask you chaps? I mean I was expecting a damn sight more relevant questions then, name, place of birth, age, parents names etc…."

"Ah well he probably got the salaries and other details from Jarvis." Fred cut in. "Besides lets not ruin our day thinking about that idiot, right Georgie?" He asked jovially, his friendly expression slipping slightly when instead joking and smiling back George acted as if he hadn't spoken turning to chat with the recently reappeared Johnny instead.

However before Fred could remark on this the double doors to the hall opened and in streamed a procession of maids all laden down with bowls and platters of delicious looking food, the housekeeper and chef following directly behind them instructing them where to place them on the table. A minute later just as the table looked as if it would collapse under the weight of all the food Jarvis and Adams strode in each carrying two large decanters and from the look of both of them, as Fred muttered, they had both already partaken of more than a little of the contents.

Moving to the head of the table Jarvis took his place next to the housekeeper, favouring her with a small smile before filling up his own glass and passing the decanter over to Felix; when all the staff had their glasses charged the Butler rose to his feet, picking up his glass and clearing his throat began to speak. "I will be brief as like myself I am sure you can't wait to tuck into the delights Mr Kraus and Mrs Ryan have prepared for us…I just wish to say that despite all the obstacles everyone has performed exemplary, and as a reward for your hard work his lordship has authorised me to grant each member of staff an extra afternoon off, to be taken at your convenience…" Jarvis paused as the assembled servants roared in approval.

"Now Merry Christmas and please tuck in." Jarvis added raising his glass as the others echoed his sentiments and all took a deep sip of the alcohol that had been laid on for the special occasion.

Leaning across the table as the Butler sat down; Andrew Adams smiled smugly before retorting loud enough for the assembled senior servants to hear. "What no prayer before meal times Mr Jarvis?"

Smiling ruefully at his under-butler's pointed and deliberate dig, Jarvis waved casually at the servants who were now tucking ravenously into their meals. "If you think you can stop them long enough to say grace Andrew then please be my guest!"

"Oh well I suppose we can let it slide just this once!" Adams retorted.

An hour or so later when the plates had been cleared away and even the greediest of footmen had been stuffed so full they could barely move let alone make too much mischief the talk quickly turned to the evening's entertainment. As was the traditional custom the senior servants remained with the junior ones for the start of the evening, then later they would depart to the relative sanctuary of their dining room for coffee whilst the lower servants really began to celebrate the nativity.

"What we need is some music!" Emily declared with gusto herself moving to the piano and starting up a lively roundel with the help of the Valets, many of whom managed in their exuberance and partly due to the amount of alcohol they had consumed, to completely confuse the order they were supposed to be singing and on occasion the words as well, but the assembled staff were so busy sniggering at the mistakes that they hardly cared.

When Emily had finally exhausted herself the talk turned to nominating the next unlucky victim, it was at this point that Molly piped up. "I'll do it but only on one condition!"

"Which is?" Emily replied.

"I get to select someone to give me some backup, I mean it would hardly be fair to make me both play and sing!"

Such a suggestion received nods and muffled yes's so a smiling Molly turned slowly in her seat to gaze sweetly at the oblivious housekeeper, it took a moment for the implication to sink in but as soon as it did Flora began vigorously shaking her head.

"Absolutely NOT!"

"Why not?" Molly demanded. "After all it is Christmas, surely you can be persuaded to indulge us on such an important occasion?"

"Actually." Felix chipped in. "I can safely say that in all my time here I have never heard you sing Mrs Ryan! And I've been her longer than you, so that means you never have…Wait didn't we ask you the first Christmas but you fobbed off then as well something about a sore throat I believe."

"For very good reason, I do not sing in public!" Flora hissed, eager that their private debate shouldn't spread down the length of the table.

"But you simply have to…Can't you persuade her Walter?" Emily demanded, an expectant look on her face as she glared at her son.

"If Flora says she doesn't want to…" He began but on seeing his Mother's pleading expression he relented slightly. "Well perhaps if I played the piano then Mrs Watson and Flora could do a duet…"

"See now that's sorted!" Molly exclaimed gleefully grabbing Flora's hand and dragging her towards the piano, whispering in her ear as to the type of song they both knew and could split between them.

"Molly I'm not sure about this!" Flora exclaimed but her friend simply shook her head at her before storming off demand from the Butler if he knew the music for Greensleeves.

It wasn't until Jarvis had made his way over to the piano and began tinkling the ivories in an experimentary manner, running through the chorus in order to familiarise himself with the melody, and Molly began singing 'Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight ,Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my Ladie Greensleeves ' and trying to encourage Flora to do the same the housekeeper had had enough.

"I'm sorry but I can't do this…" She began moving to turn and leave the party but a concerned Molly caught her arm.

"Flora you simply can't leave me to do this alone." She retorted indicating the large group of lower servants who were looking on interest.

"You don't understand." Flora snapped. "I haven't sung in public since I was fifteen and well at least then it was my type of music, it's a different style of singing…Oh you wouldn't understand." The housekeeper added.

"Then explain it my dear!" Walter cut in, after he had been listening into their conversation with interest moving from the piano to refill his glass.

"I only sing in Gaelic, and its without accompaniment…" Flora began. "But no one here will be interested in hearing that."

"I am!" Walter replied holding Flora's gaze seriously.

"Me too!" Molly added, and waving at the assembled staff. "And I'm sure the others aren't as closed minded as you think."

"Well if you're sure?" Flora whispered softly.

"Excellent!" Walter cut in, tapping his goblet in order to bring the rowdy staff to some semblance as quiet. "Quiet down all of you…Now thanks to Mrs Watson's persuasive skills Mrs Ryan has agreed to delight us with a song, however as it is unaccompanied would you footman try and keep it down!…Mrs Ryan." He added moving back to his seat, but for a moment he glanced back at Flora who appeared to be practically shaking with fear.

Taking a deep breath the housekeeper forced herself to smile. "This will be a little different to what you're used to, the song is in Gaelic so you won't understand a single word, which is probably a good thing for me as you won't know when I make a mistake…" She trailed off as the lower servants sniggered at her joke at the Valet's expense. Pausing for a moment she closed eyes blocking out the entire group then suddenly she began to sing. Her voice was soft and delicate, the words slipping delicately off her tongue more fluidly then the English and more than few of the maids were already sobbing into their handkerchiefs as it was obvious to all gathered that the song was full of sadness and longing.

And as she began the first verse her voice strengthened, she began to embark on a more complicated melody, her voice dipping and soaring gracefully between the notes and at this point she finally opened her eyes. As she sang the chorus and the next verse her eyes scanned the group noting with satisfaction the tears in most people's eyes, a slight smile tugging at her lips when she saw Emily and Molly openly sobbing into their handkerchiefs. However there was one person's reaction that she could not bear to gage and so she purposely avoided catching the Butler's eye. However had she done so, she would have spotted the solitary tear that had managed to escape and now trailed unimpeded down the Butler's cheek. All too soon she was starting the final verse.

As the last note rang out and the housekeeper managed to take a deep breath and let it out in relief that it was over, the assembled staff burst out into riotous applause; the footmen pounding their empty tankards on the tables and the maids clapping enthusiastically through their tears. Flora turned to resume her seat only to be drawn into a tight hug by Molly and then Emily.

"Oh Flora dear that was amazing, I had no idea you had such a beautiful voice Walter never said a thing…"

"That's because he didn't know!" Jarvis cut in, pushing past the two women to face his fiancé. "That was…" He trailed unable to vocalise the feelings her ballad had stirred up.

"It's alright Walter." Flora replied softly, reaching up to brush the stray tear from his cheek. "You don't need to say anything." She added as she gazed lovingly into his eyes, unable to contain the joy that she felt at seeing him look back at her in just the same way.

"What did it mean in English, will you translate it for me one day?" Jarvis asked softly.

"Of course I will." Flora replied lovingly. "I just hope it wasn't too sombre for the occasion."

"It was perfect, you must sing more often especially after the baby is born I can imagine how soothing it would be, perfect for lullabies…"

However their private moment was suddenly broken by the sound of raucous laughter, glancing around they suddenly spotted the cause Johnny had appeared and he had with him a pole from which dangled a large sprig of mistletoe. The impish young lad was going around and holding it above different people's heads, the goading of the others had done the rest and so far Joe had kissed Susan, Fred had kissed Grace, poor Lizzie had been forced to kiss Johnny himself but what concerned the senior servants the most was that he was now heading in their direction.

"You can stop right there Mr Boots!" Jarvis bellowed and the rest of the staff broke out wolf whistling and stamping their feet.

"Aw come on now Walter." Felix called out as he gave Johnny a shove towards the Butler and housekeeper. "It is tradition after all!"

Glancing across at Flora Jarvis could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a ghost of a smile playing around her lips but before he could comment even his mother had joined in the ongoing chanting. Sighing to himself he realised they were never going to let it go until he gave in so gently he slid his hand round Flora's waist prompting her to glance across at him properly a surprised look flittering across her face as he lent in and captured her lips gently, an immediate roar of approval going up from the rest of the staff.

But neither Walter nor Flora paid any attention, for them it was as though the rest of the world had been drowned out, pulling away slightly the Butler rubbed his nose softly against Flora's before once more leaning down. This time capturing her lips hungrily as his hands automatically drifted to stroke her face before moving to pull the pins from her hair, caressing the long locks whilst his other hand drifting to the small of her back as he pulled her firmly against him. In response Flora slid her arms up across his chest, locking them behind his neck her fingers moving to softly stroke the nape of his neck as she drank him in completely oblivious to the now silent room.

The rest of the staff had not expected this; a quick peck on the lips was one thing but this was rapidly turning into something much more and they simply didn't know where to look. Fortunately for them one person was able to stir out of their stupor long enough to cough loudly, causing Jarvis to suddenly retract the hand that been moving down from the small of the housekeeper's back to somewhere far more pert and agreeable.

Pulling apart embarrassed Flora hid her face unable to meet the eyes of any of the smirking onlookers risking a quick glance at Walter she quickly spotted the early signs of his temper getting the better of him, the slight red tinge to his cheeks and the tight line of his mouth as he had to resist the urge to snap at each and everyone of the giggling servants.

"Well." Emily expounded. "I think perhaps we'd better get you off to bed now Flora dear, I mean you'll need your beauty sleep for tomorrow…" She trailed off unable to look her son in the eye, as there were some things a mother need never see, and her own son and his fiancé putting on a show for the rest of the servants was definitely one of them.

Nodding slightly Flora allowed Emily to escort her from the room and down the corridor however just as they were about to climb the stairs they were suddenly interrupted by a determined Jarvis. "Wait a moment Mother I need a word with Flora."

"Oh no Walter Corey I think not, if you think I'm letting this girl out of my sight for a single second then you are very much mistaken, who knows what might happen to her if I do! No you can say your goodnight in front of me don't and keep it clean if you don't mind!" Emily added a hint of amusement in his voice.

Huffing slightly in annoyance Jarvis turned to Flora and taking both her hands in his he raised them to his lips, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Good night Mrs Ryan I look forward to seeing you in church tomorrow!" He whispered as he released her hands stepping away.

"Until tomorrow then Mr Jarvis." Flora retorted playfully leaning forward and kissing him gently on the cheek before turning and sashaying up the staircase all the while keeping her eyes locked on the Butler's face her eyes dark with latent passion and a spark of something else that the Butler couldn't place and for a moment the breath caught in the back of his throat.

It wasn't until Flora had disappeared around the corner that Emily piped up once more. "Just so that you know Walter Corey I am moving into the vacant room next to Flora this evening and if I hear so much as a footstep approaching her room then I will not be held responsible for my actions!"

Jarvis was just about to retort and tell his mother that where he went in his own home was his business when suddenly one of the servants' bells began to sound, a three ring pull as well which could only mean someone wanted to speak to him in person. Shaking his head he gave his mother a grim smile and with a respectful nod turned and headed into the main house intent on dealing with those damn Hamilton-Hussey's as quickly as possible then perhaps if he was very quick and very quiet he might be able to take up on that unspoken invitation from his fiancé.

As he trotted down the corridor towards the Hamilton-Hussey bedroom, lost in his own turmoil, Jarvis suddenly halted next to Lady Rebecca's room, listening carefully to the muffled scream which he had heard as far away as the foot of the first staircase. He had heard that Her Ladyship hadn't been feeling her best recently and worried that something may be seriously wrong so raised his hand to tap on the door, but paused just in time to hear a familiar voice mumble something inaudible followed by a high-pitched female giggle. Jarvis tutted disapprovingly and shook his head – he had only been gone from the party ten minutes and already Mr Adams had managed to slip away and make his undoubtedly nightly visit to Lady Rebecca. Maybe, Jarvis thought, the aristocratic widow wasn't feeling as terrible as she had made out, any excuse to get to her bed as early as possible. Well, the butler pondered as it fell dubiously quiet beyond the door, he would have to have more than a word in his deputy's ear over this. It was one thing having a relationship with an equal but he had never felt comfortable with the notion that those below stairs should embark on risky liaisons with their betters, it would eventually lead to shoddiness and upset the order of things. People would no longer know their place and it was up to upstanding members of society - both those who served and those who were served – to set an example for the rest to follow.

With a sigh, Jarvis moved away from the door remembering that the Hamilton-Husseys were waiting to be attended to, and if the insistence of the bell ring was anything to go by he had better hurry up. He wanted to get this over with anyway, he had other more important things to be sorting out, especially which waistcoat he would wear for his wedding. He only hoped Johnny had remembered to put the shoe polish which he had requested in his pantry, he would have normally given his shoes to Johnny to polish but he wanted to make sure that they were completely spotless so decided only his eye for perfection would do. The cake was in those most competent hands of Felix, who was continuing to be extremely secretive as to its decoration, and the chef had also promised a small but interesting spread for the servants after the service. He had told Jarvis in no uncertain terms could an event such as this pass at Taplows without food made specifically for the occasion filling stomachs, although he did promise that the happy couple could have their own, private meal in the evening once the party was over.

Jarvis couldn't help but raise a small smile at Felix's naivety, if he and Flora had been being sociable all day they would more than likely have other things on their mind than food by the time evening approached, and if Felix's 'small spreads' were anything to go by then they would be stuffed for the next week anyway. The way Flora had looked at him after their clinch in front of the servants had told him everything, she wanted him desperately and another 24 hours before she could get to have him would be just too long. He remembered how she had been last time she was expecting, so to see her look at him in that lascivious way as she climbed the stairs should have been hardly surprising, but after everything that had happened recently it wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest if she had gone off him completely. It just showed, Jarvis thought as he checked his pocket watch, that no matter what disaster befell their relationship the physical attraction between them would always be there, it was something that just couldn't be eradicated by outside forces and that included interfering little snots like Forest and Keneally.

Will had just been a fleeting fancy, he knew that she would always come back to him with those same brown eyes calling him to bed, and even the strong arm of his mother couldn't prevent him from going to her if he so desired. And he certainly did. If he waited until he was sure his mother was asleep, then he knew after months of practice exactly which floorboards to avoid outside Flora's room so he could slip in without a sound. They had been together intimately many times before, if they were already going to hell for their sin what would once more matter before finally being joined together in the eyes of God? He needed to satisfy his longing that night, he knew he would never be able to sleep otherwise, but something was stopping him from spending a few blissful hours with his fiancée. Maybe his mother was right, maybe he should just suppress his urges and wait and he wasn't sure he could handle her wrath – and a second embarrassment - if she caught him where he didn't belong.

Jarvis tapped lightly on the Hamilton-Hussey door and waited for the usual stern 'enter!' from either Lord Montgomery or his appalling wife, but instead there was a moment of silence before Lady Francesca called out softly "who is it?"

"It's Jarvis, m'Lady, you rang for me." Jarvis replied, a slight hint of exasperation creeping into his voice. It wouldn't normally have annoyed him, but tonight he just couldn't be bothered with the woman's moaning.

"Oh, I know I did, Mr Jarvis." Franny cooed from behind the door. "Do come in."

With a frown, Jarvis turned the handle and stepped inside, but grinding to a sudden halt when only a dim room greeted him, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light until they fell on a row of glowing candles on Lady Francesca's dresser.

"Lady Francesca?" He called out, the light from the hallway casting his shadow on the floor of the bedroom, but Franny was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm over here." Jarvis heard her breathe from the other side of the room, his heart beginning to pound furiously in his ears as it occurred to him that the voice could very easily be coming from the bed. Without a word, Jarvis took another step forward, not quite sure why he didn't just turn on his heel and hot foot it out of there. He squinted through the half light, his eyes following the line of candles until he saw a sight he certainly did not expect to see that night, or at least from a woman other than Flora anyway. Lady Francesca was laid out in front of him on the neatly made bed in the soft glow of the room, leaning up on one hand with her right leg crossed delicately over her outstretched left leg, dressed in a red corset, French knickers and black, lacy stockings, her arms barely covered by a silk dressing gown draped around her legs to hide some of her modesty. She smiled seductively and Jarvis felt himself begin to tremble slightly, wondering why on earth would she suddenly be showing an active interest in him of all people, unless she genuinely needed something and she was waiting for her husband? There was no way she could have been waiting for Frank Keneally, he wouldn't be able to get out of his fortress. Lord Montgomery had told everyone she was sick, unable to come out of her room, but in her current state she looked far from sick to him.

For a brief moment he took her in, every inch of her, his eyes raking up her right leg and resting briefly on the lace top of her stocking then tracing the curve of her hip. The corset she wore was far more revealing than the dowdy dark coloured dresses he had become accustomed to seeing her in and he noticed just how well endowed she actually was, her chest pushed up so firmly in the tightness of the corset it was almost in line with her shoulders. Franny pouted, catching his eye so he instinctively looked away only as a gentleman should, desperately trying not to show any sort of emotion in front of the Lady, he had to remain professional, turn her down, then escape as quickly as possible.

"How can I be of service, m'Lady?" Jarvis managed to gulp, suddenly realising how hot it was in the room.

"How would you LIKE to be of service – Mr Jarvis?" Franny purred, sliding silently from the bed and sauntering towards him.

"Er, I don't understand." Jarvis mumbled, taking a tentative step backwards as Franny stopped a few yards away from him and laughed softly. The butler couldn't help but look back at her out of the corner of his eye and saw her robe fall from around her shoulders and pool around her feet and suddenly he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to make the short distance to the bedroom door. He hadn't found her attractive – no, he DIDN'T find her attractive, he should be able to walk away in disgust at such an advancement by a woman not only married but also his social superior, but any man - with the exception of Felix perhaps - would have found it difficult not to feel something, well, physical at the sight of a young lady dressed in Paris' finest undergarments.

"Lady Hamilton-Hussey, I hardly think this appropriate….." Jarvis began dryly, but was unable to finish his sentence as his chest began to seize up and the sweat trickled down his neck, soaking his shirt collar.

"Appropriate, Mr Jarvis! APPROPRIATE!" Franny suddenly snapped, causing Jarvis' already frayed nerves to spasm. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick. "Is the fact that my husband has kept me locked up in our room all day like a caged animal appropriate! He does not give me the attention I need, is it any wonder I have to resort to……?" Lady Francesca trailed off, Jarvis turning to face her and noticing instantly that she must have been crying for a very long time as her cheeks were crimson and her eyes puffy and tired.

"It is not for me to comment on what your husband does, Lady Hamilton-Hussey." Jarvis said rather sternly in his finest butler tone, but mentally cursed himself when he found himself talking to her chest rather than her face.

"Do you wish to touch me, Mr Jarvis?" Franny breathed softly, all the anger on her plain face falling away as quickly as it had arrived and replaced with a bitter frown. When Jarvis failed to reply, after losing the power of speech for the first time in his life, Franny continued, her eyes searing through him. "My husband has gone out of his way to make me feel unattractive, to feel fat and ugly. Maybe I haven't been as loyal to our marriage as I should have done, but can you blame me? Can you, Mr Jarvis?"

"Err….like I say m'Lady, I cannot comment either way on your marriage. Is there something you wanted?" Jarvis could have sworn at himself for asking such a stupid question. It was pretty clear to him what she wanted, and now he had given her the perfect opportunity to spell it out. Get out of there, he screamed in his mind, go and find Flora, get away from this poisonous woman!

He tried to suppress the familiar feeling of lust building inside him, damn it he HAD to, but when all is said and done although he was merely a servant he was still a warm blooded male with the same urges as any wealthy Lord. His breathing had become laboured and his unwillingness to leave began to consume him as Lady Francesca closed the gap between them, running her finger across her heaving chest then slowly up her neck.

"Can you not tell what I want?" Franny panted, caressing her fingers down his waistcoat and threading them around the buttons and pulling him forward. She giggled softly again, and it was obvious to Jarvis that she was extremely vulnerable to male advances and he knew he shouldn't take advantage of her. In his mind she was the victim in this most inappropriate situation, certainly not the other way around.

Franny ran her finger across her bottom lip, her mouth slightly open and inviting as she bit down gently on it and smiled. "Nobody will know, no-one will find out." Franny whispered, unbuttoning his waistcoat painfully slowly and sliding off his jacket.

"Lady Francesca, I can't do this, I'm getting married tomorrow." Jarvis replied, keeping his arms firmly down by his sides as he felt her breath hot on his neck. He wasn't touching her – but he wasn't resisting either. Why not just shove her away? Francesca Hamilton-Hussey was a known aristocratic tart, he knew Harold Phillips from years back and had heard exactly what she had done to him, although not from him himself of course. It was all hearsay, but very accurate hearsay none the less.

Franny wrapped her leg around his, running her foot up the back of his leg and for the first time Jarvis' mask began to falter and he closed his eyes. She had finished unbuttoning his waistcoat and had started on his shirt, her hands wandering down and untucking his vest from his trousers before gradually unthreading his neck tie. "If you're getting married tomorrow, all the more reason for a bit of fun before hand, don't you think?" Franny cooed, leaning forward and nuzzling his ear with her nose. "I noticed you at dinner today, and thought to myself now there's an attractive man, far more sophisticated than some around here, possibly even more than some of your superiors, perish the thought. You must have women chasing you all over the place, Mrs Ryan is a very, very lucky woman."

Oh God, Flora, Jarvis thought. What was he doing, letting another woman undress him like this without even resisting in the slightest? He didn't know how to justify it to himself, it WASN'T justifiable, but Lady Francesca was young, reasonably attractive, and he felt flattered to be receiving her attentions.

He remembered the pang of excitement he felt when he realised that Bridgette had developed a crush on him, how he had wanted to do something about it but common sense and loyalty to Flora had stopped him, but somehow it was different this time, he wanted it and he knew he was going to take it. Francesca was pushing him and unlike Bridgette he was powerless to say no; he couldn't explain why, except that he felt the same as he did with Gertie in Bristol. It wasn't love, it was just about gaining physical pleasure and nothing else. He didn't want to feel like that with Flora, so maybe if he got it out of his system now it would make for a better day tomorrow, and a better union tomorrow night.

As if something snapped inside him, all doubt disappeared and he captured Franny's pouting mouth with his lips and kissed her firmly. For a moment she was stunned by his sudden advancement and her arms went a little limp, but regaining her senses quickly she returned the kiss vigorously as he finally brought his hands up and let them search her body furiously. She was wearing only a far more expensive version of Gertie's finest, the 'outfit' she wore only for her most valued clients, and it brought back memories of his last encounter with that minx of a prostitute almost exactly a year ago.

"Get onto the bed, Your Ladyship." Jarvis ordered huskily after snatching his lips away from hers, their eyes meeting to see lust as he ran his hand firmly up her leg.

"Don't worry, my husband won't bother us, he's with his mistress." Franny panted, planting small kisses along his cheek while sliding her warm hand under his vest and grazing her nails across his stomach.

"That's good to hear, now I request you get onto the bed." Jarvis muttered a little coldly, amazed at his own tone of voice. He didn't respect Lady Francesca any more than he respected Dirty Gertie, he was sure if she could have charged him she would have done, just to cause more scandal for her poor husband. But Franny hardly seemed to mind his slight harshness, and in fact she certainly did not. She was used to being dominant, but if he wanted to take charge then that excited her immensely and she wasn't about to disobey him. With a quiet, lustful moan Franny backed onto the bed, her eyes still locked with his as he unbuckled his trousers. He wanted to make this quick and efficient, like everything else he did in his profession. He was providing her a service, carrying out a direct order from one of his betters, so it had to happen with as little fuss as possible.

"Maybe we should do a role-reversal, Mr Jarvis." Franny said softly as she pulled out two white silk scarves from under her pillow. "I will be the servant, and you will be the master."

"Well you had better do my bidding then, you naughty maid." Jarvis said teasingly, pulling his shirt off over his head and then following Franny's guiding finger until he had climbed onto the bed.

"Oh, Your Lordship, I am no mere maid, I am the housekeeper." Franny purred as the butler ran his hand up the inside of her leg and kissed up her arm. For a moment Jarvis froze – there was no way on this earth he was going to let this little madam pretend to be Flora, she simply wasn't worthy and it disgusted him to even think of pretending the woman he was about to ravage unlovingly was his bride to be.

"No," Jarvis smiled a little bitterly while forcing Franny's arms over her head. "I would much prefer you younger than that, I always fancied a fling with a young Lady's maid to be honest."

"Whatever you say, master." Franny giggled as Jarvis gave her bottom a firm squeeze, but as her hand wandered down his body her eyes suddenly lit up and she gasped. "Oh goodness, like uncle like nephew! The similarities are most striking, I can certainly tell you and Mr Keneally are related."

"How do you know about that?" Jarvis snorted in between breathless, rampant kisses, unable to ignore the tingle of excitement that surged through him at her touch. He felt disgusted with himself, but there was no way he could stop now. "Anyway Frank and I look nothing alike, even my own mother couldn't see the Corey resemblance."

"Oh, I knew about your little connection well before you did, I'm sure." Franny panted urgently in his ear. "Frank told me everything. And how could your mother know whether you and Frank are similar? From what I hear she certainly did not change his nappy or bathe him as a child. Oh don't look so startled Mr Jarvis, you didn't think I was referring to facial features did you?"

"I would rather you didn't talk about Frank Keneally, Lady Francesca. I would rather you didn't talk at all, if I may be so bold." Jarvis requested quite adamantly, only the throws of passion preventing him from assessing his attitude towards his better. If anything, however, the sterner he was with the woman the more she seemed to writhe against him – obviously she needed a dominant man in her life and any man – including the butler – who was willing to put her in her place for once was very welcome in her bed.

"You can be as bold as you like." Franny teased, snatching up the scarf from the bed and winding it round her hands seductively, her arms still above her head on the pillow. "The bolder the better, My Lord. I am a mere servant who knows no better, you need to show me what I have been missing out on, make me feel like a woman. You are in command and I must do your bidding."

With a guttural growl, Jarvis pinned Franny to the bed and tugged furiously at her corset, his lips wandering down her jaw and neck and causing Franny to shiver with delight. "Stretch your arms out, miss." He ordered, and with a final loosening of the corset lace took one of the scarves. Leaning over her he pulled one of her wrists towards the bedpost, Franny moaning under him and chattering away about how good it was to have a 'real man' for a change. Jarvis wasn't listening to her at all, he was trying desperately to concentrate on the matter in hand but all he could think about was Flora's face if she discovered them together, half naked and sprawled out on the bed. He fumbled with the scarf but they were so delicate they kept slipping out of his hands, but with a final attempt he managed to successfully tie Franny's wrist tightly to the post.

"Ow, that's a bit tight!" Franny exclaimed, her wrist wriggling uncomfortably, but then her pained expression turned into a sultry smile. "But if you want to play rough then I'm all for it, Your Lordship. When I'm with Frank I make him do all kinds of naughty things to me, do you want to know what they are? How best to please me?"

Jarvis looked down at her and blinked. For a moment he considered simply gagging her with the other scarf he found her so damn annoying and getting on with it so he could leave and sleep away his guilt. He just didn't care what pleased her, he wasn't there for that, he was only there for himself – an animalistic urge which he needed to release, and after everything that had happened recently he felt he deserved it. Flora may have had her fun, and while hers may have been more meaningful he certainly hadn't had his. The only other woman he had been with in the past couple of years had been Gertie, and something deep inside him wanted to relieve the memories of what it was like to just have intimacies with absolutely no strings attached – except for the ones which either he or his temporary lover may be restrained with, of course.

"You're incredible." Franny murmured after Jarvis failed to answer her. Maybe, she thought, he just needed more encouragement, perhaps he was nervous? She had spent all day simply crying in her room, and she was damned if she was going to go without her own satisfaction, so playfully she brushed her foot against a sensitive area and Jarvis almost buckled with the sensation.

"You've not seen incredible yet." Jarvis retorted coldly, kissing her hungrily on the lips, but just as he was about to take her the bedroom door flew open and they both looked up in horror.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Exclaimed a callous voice through the darkness. "Mr Jarvis finally on his knees, well there's a sight for sore eyes!"

"What the hell...!" Jarvis yelled, scrambling from the bed and covering his privates with his hands as he snatched up his long johns from a pile on the floor. "Get out Keneally, GET OUT!"

"Oh, don't mind me." Frank said slickly, leaning against the very open bedroom door and smirking at the sight of Jarvis furiously pulling on his trousers. Franny's face was a complete picture, Frank thought, he couldn't quite make out if she was smiling or grimacing in the dim light of the room, but he experienced complete silence from her for the first time since their liaisons began. "Carry on by all means, pretend I'm not here, I like nothing more than watching such interesting scenery, maybe in a little while I can join in. I bet you'd love that wouldn't you Francesca, uncle and nephew at once, how wonderfully kinky..."

"Are you bloody deaf, boy!" Jarvis screamed, pulling on his shirt back to front and causing Frank to laugh out loud at the sheer enjoyment of the situation and the look of mix of absolute shock, embarrassment and pure fury on the butler's handsome face. "Ps off, Keneally! Do as you're damn well told for once!"

"What, and miss this, UNCLE?" Frank sneered, labouring his point. "Not for the world, especially - my, my, Francesca my lover, you do look a pretty picture don't you, eh? Why is it you never wore such a thing for me - well, not after the first time anyway..."

"How did you get out of your room!" Jarvis demanded, fastening up his waistcoat through the wrong button holes before throwing Franny's dressing gown at her. "Put that on, leave yourself with some dignity woman!"

"Well I would if I wasn't tied to the bloody bed!" Franny finally spoke, her voice shaking in both severe disappointment and anger at the intrusion as she writhed around ungainly. "For God's sake, Frank, why do you have to ruin everything! I should have you sacked for this!"

"Firstly, Uncle Walter, if you must insist on putting a footman outside my room to keep guard you could at least make sure they were entertained enough to stay awake," Frank smirked as he watched Jarvis pulling his shoes onto the wrong feet then cursing furiously. "And secondly, my beautiful Francesca, how exactly would you have me sacked? I walked in on you and your newest lover while your husband was out having his wicked way with the most recent addition to the staff? Although, how on earth do I know that you haven't been carrying on with my uncle all this time? Tell me, Franny, how do I know that the baby your carrying isn't mine but his? Or anyone else's in this Godforsaken place!"

Jarvis staggered round and glared at Lady Francesca - it almost made him physically sick to think that she was with Frank's child and that he had nearly taken part in what now felt to him as incestuous behaviour. To both his and Frank's surprise she suddenly burst into tears, and she looked so pathetic and helpless that the gentleman in Jarvis couldn't help but reluctantly go over and untie her, all the while Frank singing raucously some bawdy music hall song about a man who had slept with so many common whores his bits had eventually dropped off.

"I have not slept with this woman, Keneally, there is only one woman carrying my child and that is the woman I intend to marry tomorrow!" Jarvis snapped as Franny threw on her gown and sobbed silently, her watery eyes fixed on Frank's leering grin. The butler stormed towards the door and tried to barge past Frank so he could order him back to his room or else, but instead the valet grabbed his arm and yanked him back, much to his utter horror.

"Oh right, so what were you doing with her then!" Frank questioned, his mocking tone becoming more embittered and spiteful. "Just having a nice chat were you? She just so happened to be in her underwear and you just happened to lose your trousers, is that it!"

"Frank, stop it!" Franny screeched from her dark corner, snivelling pathetically. "Monty will be back soon, he can't find you both here!"

"Oh shut up, you dirty bh, I don't need to do anything you say, d'you hear me!" Frank raged, storming past Jarvis and up to Franny and raising his hand ready to smack her hard across the face. "I've a good mind to slap that child out of you, that's bloody teach you to go working your evil on the very person you know I hate the most in this hell hole!"

"No, Frank!" Franny cried, cowering on the bed and shutting her eyes tight, but just before he could hit her Jarvis grabbed his arm and forced it down behind his back causing Frank to yelp in agony.

"Get off me, Jarvis, this is nothing to do with you...!" Frank spat, struggling to shake him off while Franny blubbed into her pillow. "I said get..."

"You'd best get out of here and back to your room before I march you straight to Lord Julian!" Jarvis growled, yanking Frank's head back hard so he could look him in the eye. "I will not tolerate this behaviour in my household and if you ever raise your hand to a lady again - or anyone here for that matter - I will hit you back ten times as hard and for ten times as long, do I make myself perfectly plain Mr Keneally!"

Frank simply smirked spitefully as Jarvis released him, and throwing a disgusted glance at Francesca stormed towards the door, his teeth tightly clenched. "You will regret all of this!" He hissed, turning and pointing accusingly at the crimson and panting butler. "Believe you me, mate, you just wait, tomorrow you'll wish that moaning old mother of yours had never given birth to you!"

"Look," Jarvis began, pacing towards Frank then shoving him out of the door, slamming it shut behind them. He glanced up the corridor then when he saw not a soul in sight rammed his arm hard into Frank's throat and pushed him up against the wall until the valet almost choked. Leaning right in Jarvis lowered his voice to a threateningly quiet whisper. "You so much as poke that scrawny head of yours out of your room and into the light of day tomorrow I will make sure that Mr Adams does what is necessary to keep you out of sight for a very, very long time. And don't think that Lord Julian will miss you for one moment, I had instructed Fred Matkin to take over your duties over the last few days and His Lordship is very pleased with the results, so if you want to keep your job – and any sort of reputation you can scrape out of this mess – I suggest you never raise your voice to me, Lady Francesca or anybody else under this roof ever again and make yourself so scarce I forget you even exist! Now get out of my sight!"

Jarvis released Frank and pushed him away, the valet almost falling over his own feet and colliding hard with the edge of the banister. With an embittered huff, Frank wiped phlegm from his mouth with the back of his hand and staggered away as the butler watched him closely, his mind working faster than he could register his own thoughts. It was then that he looked down and noticed the state of his suit and waistcoat, if Flora had caught him she would have thought he had been out down the Cock and Bull to celebrate a little overzealously his last night of freedom rather than in delightful aristocratic company.

That reminded him – he needed a drink, and fast. The nearest whiskey was in the Earl's room, where he should be sleeping soundly, so he thought it may not be wise to barge in and demand he gives his butler half his finest malt even if it was the eve of his wedding. Jarvis knew just where to head for – his own room was too far away, and anyway he felt he deserved something of the finest quality so moments later found himself in the drawing room shakily pouring himself a large one and slumping down in His Lordship's favourite chair. He breathed heavily, sipping at the liquidy goodness as the panic gripping his chest over what Frank might try to do to ruin his big day began to ebb away. Jarvis finally gave up sipping and simply gulped the rest of the glass down before pouring himself another, the sexual urges he had felt only a short while before completely gone as he tried desperately to forget everything.

If Flora changed her mind tomorrow he didn't know what he would do, he knew in his soul he would never stop loving her and the guilt at his actions with Lady Francesca was so intense he wondered if he was worthy of the housekeeper at all. He considered for a moment that it may be best if he didn't turn up at the church, if he just left with only a note to comfort her telling her he had forgiven her for what she had done and that he couldn't face her because of his own selfish actions. But then he imagined her in a dress he had yet to see, walking slowly down the aisle towards him with a glow of sunshine framing her like an angel sent from God to light up his life, and suddenly he knew he could never leave her. After his third drink, his racing heart had slowed to its regular beat and he closed his eyes, the warmth and comfort of the chair soothing him until he was snoring softly.