More Than This

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: 1860's, Sydney Bristow is an unhappy servant, who wishes to have more from her life. When she meets Michael Vaughn, a wealthy banker, for the first time she sees a way out of her life, but the only problem is Michael doesn't know her true identity.

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-12 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1

Waking up to another day was the exact thing Sydney Bristow wasn’t looking forward to. In fact, she couldn’t think of one good reason to drag herself off of the pile of old rags known as her mattress. What could have been a reason to face the day? Cleaning out the chamber pots? Scrubbing the upstairs hallway? Listening to Annabelle’s insufferable complaining? Surely none of those things.

Every morning when she awoke, Sydney wished for something different, but sadly those were only fool’s wishes. In her world, you were born into a class, you lived in it and you died it in. The only hope for rising above it was nothing short of a miracle. She had been praying for nineteen years and hadn’t seen a miracle yet. She knew her wishes were foolish, but she wished them anyway.

“SYDNEY!” came Mrs. Cole’s screech, signaling that time for wishes and dreams was over and it was time to take her place in life.

“Coming,” she grumbled while sliding to the floor. Quickly, she grabbed the pot of water boiling over the fire and placed it on the tray to carry upstairs. Then, she scurried out of the kitchen as quickly as she could without dropping the three cups and saucers on the tray.

Bringing the Cole women their morning tea typically wasn’t part of Sydney’s job description, but their usual maid was sick, so Sydney had the pleasure of interacting with the Cole’s even more than usual, which made her want to retch. The Coles’ insisted on having their first cup of tea before they even got out of bed in the morning, which Sydney found to be absurd, but her opinion didn’t matter.

The first bedroom door she came to was Mrs. Cole’s. Sydney knocked gently, then opened the door and curtsied before walking over to Mrs. Cole’s bedside and pouring her a cup of tea. Sydney wasn’t exactly sure what Mr. Cole’s occupation was, all she knew was that he returned only once or twice a month and the Coles’ were disgustingly rich. “Morning ma’am,” Sydney said quietly before curtsying again. Mrs. Cole’s only response was to scowl disapprovingly at her, so Sydney left the room and moved on to the next: Annabelle’s.

Annabelle Cole was sixteen years of age and one of the most sought after girls in all of London, despite the fact that Sydney found her to have the most detestable personality on the planet. She was as stubborn as she was rude, and unfortunately as beautiful as she was both, which only made her worse. Annabelle’s response to Sydney’s presence was her typical upturned nose in the obvious ‘I’m far better than you’ way. Sydney ignored her and moved on to the third and final room.

Elizabeth Cole was a year younger than her sister and much less irritating in Sydney’s opinion. Elizabeth was never as rude to her as Annabelle or their mother tended to be and while she was equally as eligible as her sister (due to their massive fortune) she was plainer, less glamorous. When Sydney gave Elizabeth her tea, Elizabeth gave her a polite but quiet ‘thank you’ before Sydney left to continue on with her regular chores around the Cole household.

Typically, Sydney’s day consisted of waking up very early and making the fire in the kitchen so that breakfast for the Cole’s could be cooked. Then, she would walk the twenty minute walk each way to the market to pick up food for that day, rain or snow, winter or summer, no matter what. Mrs. Cole kept a close watch on the amount of money that Sydney was spending there and never gave her any more than she needed. After she returned each day, Mrs. Cole would scrutinize the amount she spent and the change she had left over as if their lives depended on every pinched penny, whereas really they had plenty of money, they just didn’t want it to fall into the hands of the servants.

After her market excursion, Sydney would empty the chamber pots, make the beds and do laundry as necessary. Throughout the day, as well as at night, it was Sydney’s job to keep the fires burning, especially in the winter. She also had the task of making sure the oil lamps were burning properly in the house. Also, there was the occasional scrubbing of floors and whatever other tasks Mrs. Cole decided for her.

Put simply: Sydney loathed her life. There was nothing about it that she found enjoyable, except for perhaps the occasional amusement caused by one of Annabelle’s tantrums when she was completely out of line. It’s not that she wanted much. She didn’t want to be filthy rich like the Coles. She didn’t want to be a complete and total snob like Annabelle. All she wanted was a life of her own, where she could choose what she did on a daily basis and where she had a husband that loved her and maybe a few children. Unfortunately, she could have none of those things unless, by some grace of God, the Cole’s allowed her to leave, which wasn’t likely at all. Besides, even if they did, she was nineteen, far past the prime age to marry, so she was stuck, doomed to lead that life and no matter how much she wished for more, she knew she could never have it.



Chapter 2

Slow, slower and crawling to the point of impasse was how Sydney’s days went by. It almost seemed as though another year would come and sadly, even if it did, she'd have nothing to look forward too. Almost every day she wished for an escape, even if it was only a temporary one. Sometimes, when the Coles went away, she had one. The sisters and their mother would go off to visit a friend and the house would be empty, so Sydney could entertain herself with little things she couldn’t do with them around, such as singing loudly while doing her chores. The other servants in the Cole household would look at her strangely, but she didn’t care, it made her feel better.

One day in June when Sydney was outside sweeping the front walk, a package for Annabelle was delivered. Normally, delivery men didn’t leave packages with the servants, but the boy who delivered it was very young and probably new and unaware of the rule. Sydney looked down at the package label and noticed that it was from the dressmaker, meaning that Annabelle’s new dress had arrived, explaining the weight of the package. Sydney hoisted the package up higher with her knee so that she could get a better grasp on it before struggling to carry it inside. She found Annabelle in the parlor playing her pianoforte. “What?” she asked harshly when Sydney walked up to her.

“This came for you ma’am,” Sydney told her politely in a very quiet voice.

Annabelle stopped playing immediately and snatched the package from Sydney. “What is it?” Mrs. Cole asked from her position at the window, where she was sewing.

“It’s my dress,” Annabelle said in a less than pleased tone. “Mother, I don’t want this one. Beth is going to have the exact same one and I cannot have the same one as her!”

“Let me see it,” Mrs. Cole said as she stood and walked over. She took the package from her daughter and opened it to reveal a deep emerald green dress, the most beautiful dress Sydney had ever seen. “Annabelle, this dress is lovely.”

“It’s hideous! It disgusts me!” she shouted.

Upon hearing the noise, Elizabeth came into the parlor asking what was wrong. “Oh Annabelle, that dress is perfect for the Blair’s party this weekend!” she exclaimed.

“It’s not perfect!! I can’t wear it!” Annabelle pouted. “I will not have a dress looking anything like one owned by that swine, Beth!”

“Well, you can wear one of your other dresses and-”

“MOTHER! I cannot wear another dress! The Blair’s have seen me in all those dresses. If I wear one I've worn before, they’re going to think we’re poor!” she choked out as tears began to flow along her cheeks, though Sydney supposed she was forcing them out as part of her tantrum.

“Then you’ll wear this one,” Mrs. Cole said, clearly just trying to appease her spoiled daughter.

“I CANNOT!”

“I’ll wear it,” Elizabeth offered.

“YOU CANNOT WEAR IT EITHER!!” Annabelle screamed. Sydney barely managed to hold in her snort of laughter. If she had been Annabelle’s mother she would have been bashing her daughter’s face into her precious pianoforte at that very moment. Mrs. Cole looked as though she had no idea what to say.

“The Blair’s party will be the social event of this season! I must have something appropriate to wear. Everyone will be there. Mr. Robinson... the Darcy brothers... I even heard Mr. Vaughn was coming. Did you hear that he still has yet to court anybody? Marguerite says it’s because he doesn’t like any London women; he prefers the women of Paris,” Annabelle began to gossip as if the dress incident had never taken place.

“Really? He seems so kind to everyone here. But he is from France, is he not?” Elizabeth asked.

“He is. Terribly old too. Nearly twenty-five, I believe. Maybe he doesn’t want to marry,” Annabelle suggested.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Annabelle; he has to have someone to pass that fortune of his on to.” Elizabeth laughed.

“Yes,” Annabelle said with an almost sly grin. “Which is exactly why I need a dress for the party! Look at this thing! It’s disgusting!” she screeched as she ripped the dress from her mother’s hands and ripped the collar off of it and tore one of the sleeves in her fury.

“Annabelle!” her mother gasped.

“There. I told you it was disgusting. I don’t want to see it ever again! GET RID OF IT!! And you!” she turned to Sydney. “Why are you still standing there with your filth on our good rugs? GET OUT!”

Sydney quickly scurried away and back out to the front walkway to continue her sweeping. While she was brushing the broom back and forth across the bricks, clearing the twigs and other things that had collected, she couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd Annabelle was and how thankful she was that she would never be anything remotely close to someone like her, not to mention the pity she felt for the man who would inevitably be tricked into marrying Annabelle.

That evening, while Sydney was lighting the fire in Annabelle’s room, she and her mother were still arguing over the dress. Mrs. Cole was trying to convince her daughter that her dress was perfectly fine, but Annabelle would hear none of it. In the end, Annabelle ended up taking the dress and attempting to throw it into the burning fire. Sydney managed to save it before it was completely engulfed and she stamped out the smoldering sleeve as Mrs. Cole screeched at her daughter.

Annabelle seemed unphased and more interested on berating Sydney for saving the dress. “You incompetent fool!! Can’t you do anything right?! Take this and burn it!” Annabelle shouted as she shoved the charred dress at Sydney. Sydney quickly ran from the room while Annabelle and her mother continued to shout.

Sydney carried the dress with her while she put a fire in Mrs. Cole’s bedroom fireplace, then she walked down to the kitchen with it, still unsure what to do. It was a gorgeous dress, even with the burnt holes in it and throwing it away would be ridiculous. Then, as if a lightning bolt flashed in her head, she decided to keep it. She stashed it underneath her few belongings, intent on mending the tears and burn marks, which she could do easily. What would she do with it once it was fixed? She had no idea. But just the fact that she had it gave her even the tiniest bit of hope that maybe someday things wouldn’t always be so bad for her.



Chapter 3

Sydney thought about the dress all night and all morning the following day. The fact that she had done something reckless and dangerous had brought some excitement to her monotonous existence for once. That afternoon when the Coles’ left to visit a friend, Sydney took her brief opportunity of freedom and took the dress and her sewing kit to the garden where there was a large tree she could hide behind. She noticed that the majority of the damage done to the dress was at the bottom edge of one sleeve and the collar, but it appeared to be easily reparable.

If there was one thing she was the most skilled at, it was sewing. Before her death, her mother had been a seamstress; Sydney learned everything from her at a very young age and carried her knowledge through to adulthood. She could fix almost anything as well as make dresses and other clothes without patterns. Examining the dress, she decided the best course of action would be to change it from long sleeves to very short, almost non-existent sleeves. As for the partially ripped collar, Sydney decided to remove it altogether, since it was hideous.

Once she had finished those two alterations she found that she actually had some spare time, so she began changing other things on the dress; in her opinion, making it better. When she finished, she loved it even more than before. The only problem was that she had no idea what she was going to do with it, aside from hide it once more.

When the Coles’ returned home from visiting, Sydney was scrubbing a mark off the rug in the parlor caused by Annabelle dropping an ink well. When Annabelle walked by her, she purposely stepped on Sydney’s hands. Sydney ignored her.

“Can you believe they’re not going to the Blair’s party?” Elizabeth asked.

“Well, that is social suicide, though they never were very upscale, if you ask me. We really should stop seeing them,” Annabelle sighed.

“At least she let you borrow a dress, Annabelle,” Elizabeth told her.

“Well, it’s not like she will be needing it.” Annabelle laughed.

Listening to their mindless conversation, Sydney received a brilliant idea. She would attend the Blair’s party. Crazy? Completely, but she felt something in her gut; an instinct. She had to go. It would be tricky, but not impossible. After all, the hardest part – obtaining a dress to wear- had already been accomplished. Her scrubbing stopped as the wheels in her mind continued to turn.

She knew exactly where the Blair’s lived, after hearing Annabelle discuss it more times than she could count. It was only a short distance away so she could walk there easily. Getting into the party couldn’t be that difficult. She had seen the many parties the Coles’ had thrown and they never checked invitations. She could slip in unnoticed.

“What is she doing?” Annabelle’s question jolted Sydney from her thoughts. She looked up and noticed the Cole women staring at her. Realizing that she must have looked like she was completely in another world, she quickly turned her focus back to the scrubbing in front of her.

What was she thinking? Had she lost her mind entirely? She could no sooner attend a fancy party than she could fly to the moon and back by flapping her arms. She knew absolutely nothing about proper behavior at such events and she wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to act. Not to mention the fact that she would probably draw attention to herself by wearing Annabelle’s dress and looking incredibly out of place. The dress was a whole matter in itself. Annabelle was going to that party and surely she would recognize the dress that was once hers.

Yes, it was a foolish idea, yet something inside her ached to try it out. It was a chance, a chance she had been wishing for practically her whole life. A night, just one night, to be someone other than herself. A night to see how they lived. A night for people to treat her as a human instead of an animal they could abuse. A night where she didn’t have to be herself.

She thought about it and obsessed about it nearly every moment until Friday evening when the Coles’ were getting ready to leave. Finally, she decided to just go for it. All her life she had played by the rules, never putting one single toe out of line, and what did she have to show for it? A life she hated. She was going to take a chance, after all, what was the worst that could happen? Annabelle would see her and she would get fired. That was a risk she was willing to take instead of the alternative of living a lifetime of regret.

The second the Coles’ left, she put her plan into action. She ‘borrowed’ a pair of Elizabeth’s elbow-length white gloves from the clean laundry pile, but decided that a pair of her own boots would suffice since they would be entirely covered by the skirt of the dress anyway. The most difficult task was getting ready without any of the other servants seeing her. Luckily, most of them had decided to venture out for the evening, so she was virtually alone.

Putting on the dress, she immediately felt immensely uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to wearing dresses with tight bodices and corsets, since her uniform was just a simple cloth dress. It was very difficult for her to lace the dress up herself, but she managed, though she could barely breathe afterwards.

Looking in the cracked mirror in the kitchen, she admired her sewing handiwork. The sleeves looked perfect, almost as if they had been that way all along. The extremely low neckline on the dress made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but she knew that was the fashion of the time so there was nothing that she could do to change it.

Once her dress was on properly, she realized that her limp, matted hair wouldn’t do at all. She combed it out and clipped it up as best as she could. It didn’t look anything like the elaborate styles Annabelle wore, but it was the best she could do by herself and with limited practice or knowledge of such hairstyles.

When she was finished, she hardly recognized herself. Her skin was clean, not streaked with dirt or grime. Her clothes weren’t tattered or filthy and she was wearing everything a proper lady of the time would be wearing (sans the proper shoes). One look at herself that way and she knew she had to give the party a try, even if it was just to observe for a few minutes. She owed it to herself.



Chapter 4

The entire walk to the Blair’s Sydney was trembling and almost turned back three times, but determination mixed with a tiny bit of rebellion kept her going. When she reached the Blair residence, she stopped outside the gate and simply stared. The Blair house was much larger than the Cole house was, which made it immense. Sydney could hear the music pouring from inside the house with each open and close of the front door. Through the windows, she saw guests laughing and chatting, as well as dancing together.

Not wanting to miss any part of it, Sydney pushed open the gate and hurried towards the front door, a huge grin spread across her face. She opened the door and was immediately greeted by a man she assumed to be the Blair’s butler. He handed her a dance card to tie around her wrist and she took it nervously. She had absolutely no idea how to dance properly since she had never been taught at all. She decided it was best if she didn’t tie the card on her wrist since she didn’t intend on dancing with anyone anyway.

Once she stepped out of the doorway, her senses began working overtime, taking it all in. It was very warm in the house stemming from a combination of the candles and oil lamps, the many people and the high temperature outside on that warm June night. People were laughing and talking everywhere, mostly men talking to men and women giggling together.

Sydney began to edge her way around the party, observing everything as she went. She walked around the dance floor and towards the back of the house. When she did, she saw the Cole’s and froze. Quickly, she turned away, but she heard bits and pieces of their conversation. Unfortunately, she understood none of it because they were speaking in French.

After her close call with the Cole's, Sydney decided it would be best to park herself up against a wall where she could observe, after all, that’s what she came to do. She had only been standing there about ten minutes, watching the men and women float across the dance floor with a smile on her face, when a man walked up beside her. She moved over a step, thinking he simply wanted to watch as well, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed he was staring at her.

She briefly glanced over to him and he grinned at her. “Bonsoir madame,” he said with a slight nod of his head. Sydney blushed slightly and giggled, but said nothing. “Dites moi quel nom pourriez-vous avoir qui serait aussi magnifique que vous?"

Sydney sighed, wishing for once that she understood more than ‘bonsoir’. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French,” she said quietly as she went to walk away, but the man touched her arm lightly and she stopped, looking up at him.

“I speak English,” he said with almost a laugh, but his French accent was still notable.

“Oh,” Sydney said softly as she looked down.

“I asked what your name was, my dear.”

For a moment, Sydney contemplated what to tell him, but looking up at him, his green eyes sparkled and made her giggle involuntarily. “Sydney,” she told him.

“Ah I was right, it is a beautiful name. I am Michel, or Michael, if you prefer,” he smiled.

“Well, it's nice to meet you Michael,” Sydney smiled back at him.

He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her white glove. “Enchanté,” he said. She giggled involuntarily. “Would you care to dance?”

Sydney’s heart sunk. She didn’t want him to let go of her hand, but she knew that attempting to dance would only be completely disastrous, most likely resulting in her falling or stepping on him, making a fool of herself. She cringed slightly. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good dancer.”

“Well, that is alright, neither am I,” he smiled. “How about a walk? The gardens in the back are lovely. Have you seen them?” he asked. She shook her head. “Well then, you must. Come with me, please?” he offered his arm to her. She smiled softly and placed her hand on it, allowing him to lead her through the back of the house and outside, all the while having no idea what she was doing.

“It is lovely out here,” Sydney commented on the lamp-lit gardens.

“I agree,” he said. “So, you’re not much of a dancer, hmm?”

“No,” she laughed. “I can’t dance at all really.”

“Not at all?” he asked in surprised.

Sydney was glad it was dark outside, for she turned pink as she shook her head. She knew that a real lady, like whom she was trying to portray, would have most definitely been an accomplished dancer.

“Hmm,” he said in a thoughtful way. “I’d offer to teach you, but I’m afraid I’d be even worse than you. I’ve unfortunately stepped on many feet in my days.”

“It’s quite alright,” she assured him.

“So, Sydney, tell me, did you just move here? Because I’m sure I would have remembered seeing someone as beautiful as you at these parties,” he told her.

Sydney couldn’t stop the chills from forming on her arms even on that warm evening. “I... I am new here,” she stammered slightly.

“Oh really? Where did your family move from?”

“Just up north,” she told him casually. After all, it wasn’t a complete lie. She had come from up north at one point. “Small village...”

He nodded. “You moved with your family then?”

“No, I’m afraid not. My parents have long since passed away,” she told him sadly.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said quickly.

“It’s quite alright,” she told him with a smile.

“Do you like the city then?”

“It’s different. I’m not quite sure if that’s good or bad yet, to tell you the truth,” she laughed slightly.

“I know what you mean. I moved here from a small town on the coast of France. This is certainly a big change, in more ways than one,” he told her.

“Would you ever want to go back there?” she asked.

He was silent for a moment as he walked along the garden path, shuffling his feet slightly. “Maybe, I’m not sure. Definitely to visit since my parents are there, but my job is here. Perhaps when I have children, or if I have them, I should say,” he corrected himself with a slight laugh.

“Oh, I’m sensing some trouble. Clearly, it’s the lack of interest on the part of the women of London,” she grinned, obviously teasing.

He laughed. “Yes, clearly. Perhaps I should go back to France. No, it’s more..... I never believed in the idea that any two people in the world could be matched together by marriage. I want to want the person that I marry and have her want me back... if that makes any sense at all.”

“It makes perfect sense actually, and I quite agree,” she told him honestly.

He smiled. “I’m glad someone does.”

For the next twenty minutes, they walked around the garden and talked together. Sydney was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, or even talk at all, but then she realized that their conversation was probably the first conversation she'd had in years. People weren’t very likely to strike up conversations with their servants, and, sadly, she realized that Michael probably wouldn’t be talking to her that way if he knew who she truly was. She was enjoying their talk though, more than she even realized. It was only when she noticed the party inside beginning to thin out, did she realize she had to get home before the Cole's or risk being caught.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot the time. I must go,” Sydney said quickly as she headed towards the house once more.

“Wait!” he called as he chased after her. “When will I see you again?”

Sydney refused to look at him as she said, “I don’t think you will.”

“What? No, please,” he told her.

“I’m sorry... I’m... busy... taking care of my sick grandmother,” she managed a plausible lie.

“But-”

“I’m sorry Michael,” Sydney sighed. “It was nice to meet you,” she said as she raced off towards the front path before he could follow her.



Chapter 5

Upon returning home from the Blair’s, Sydney had never felt so thankful in her life that she had arrived home before the Cole's. She went directly to bed, but was unable to sleep at all, for she was replaying her night with Michael over and over again in her mind, the grin never leaving her face. She finally understood why Annabelle and Elizabeth were so obsessed with their parties. Not so much because of the music and dancing, though that was enjoyable, it was simply the conversations. For someone who hadn’t spoken more than three lines to someone in years of her life, the conversation she'd had with Michael that evening was pure heaven. However, the fact that she knew she could never see him again nearly broke her heart.

The day after the party, Sydney was putting away laundry in Elizabeth’s room when she overheard a conversation between the Cole sisters. “Did you see Mr. Vaughn last night?” Annabelle asked.

“Um, yes, right when we got there, remember?” Elizabeth asked, sounding confused.

“No, I mean later. Did you hear what he was doing?”

“No, what?!” Elizabeth asked sounding extremely interested.

“Well I heard that he was out talking to some woman the whole night!” Annabelle exclaimed as if it was the most scandalous thing in existence.

“Really? Who?”

“Nobody knows!”

“How can nobody know her?” she asked skeptically.

“I don’t know, but nobody knew who she was, or where she was from, or who her family was!” Annabelle said. Annabelle then continued to rant about how horrible this ‘swine’ must have been, but Sydney heard no more because she left the room. She hadn’t even been paying attention to them anyway.

~*~

When he watched Sydney run off, Michael was utterly stunned. He was convinced they were having a pleasant time, more than pleasant actually. What had changed? He thought about it the entire walk home, but he could think of nothing. Deciding it wouldn’t be prudent to dwell, he pushed it from his mind and went to sleep.

“So, how was your painfully boring party?” Eric, Michael’s friend and colleague at the bank he managed, asked the following morning when he arrived.

“Actually, it wasn’t so boring,” Michael smiled, recalling Sydney.

“Really?” Eric asked in surprise. “How is that possible?”

“I was speaking to this woman and it was.... very, very nice, actually,” Michael said.

“Really?” Eric repeated, sounding interested that time. “Who was she?”

“That’s the problem; I don’t know who she was.”

Eric laughed softly. “Imagining women again, were you?”

“No, I was not. She was real. Her name is Sydney. The problem is that’s all I know about her,” he said sadly.

“You sound like you actually like this woman,” Eric said.

“I know.... I think I do,” Michael laughed slightly, almost surprised at himself. In his twenty-three years, he hadn’t been even slightly romantically interested in any woman he had come across. Sure, he had a few young infatuations in France during his teen years, but ever since his move to London, no woman had interested him even a little bit. But now, with Sydney, he couldn’t stop thinking about her smile and her laugh and everything about her. “She’s just.... she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“How so?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know if I can explain it....she just is. She doesn’t talk like the rest of those women, all uptight and speaking about proper things. She makes jokes and will speak about anything. She’s...”

“Uncivilized?” Eric laughed slightly.

Michael gave him an almost offended look. “No, quite the opposite, in fact. I don’t know.... I should get to work, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Eric told him.

In the following days, Michael tried to push Sydney from his mind, but he couldn’t. Something about her had captivated him and, truthfully, he didn’t want to forget about her. More than anything he wanted to see her again; talk to her again.

The week following the Blair’s party, Michael attended another in hopes that Sydney would be there, but she was not. He decided then that he had to find her, no if's, and's or but's about it. So, he decided that he would ask around. He thought back to when he had first seen her, trying to remember if she had been speaking with anyone he recognized. The first time he saw her, she had been wandering around the party, looking uncomfortable, yet amazed at the same time. Then, he had watched as she settled herself against the wall, not talking to anyone. So finding her through someone was most likely a dead end, but he decided to ask around anyway.

Only three people had heard of a girl named Sydney, but when asked to describe her, they all responded that her hair was very auburn and she was very short. This wasn’t the Sydney Michael knew; not even close. Dejected, he gave up on asking around, but he didn’t give up on finding her. He was convinced that she would show up at another party; she just had to. And if she didn’t, he was seriously contemplating going to every house in London until he found her.

When he told Eric of his plans, Eric laughed at him. “You’re being absurd. Why would you do that?”

Michael shrugged. “I want to see her.”

“For what purpose?” Eric asked.

“You have a wife; you should know,” Michael said shortly.

“Wife?” Eric laughed. “You want to marry her after... what? A twenty minute conversation?”

“I never said that. I simply meant I want at chance to get to know her better,” Michael explained.

“Oh, well, yes...,” Eric sighed. Then he patted Michael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Michael, but maybe she’ll show up again.”

“Yeah... maybe,” he sighed.



Chapter 6

For another few weeks, every time Sydney’s thoughts drifted off, she thought about Michael and she hated herself for it. She was only causing herself more pain by thinking about him that way. There was no way she could have him, not even the slightest bit of chance, so why couldn’t she force herself to stop? She had no idea.

The last week in July, it was the Cole’s turn to host a party and for the week prior, their house was constantly full of activity. Mr. Cole had returned home to host the party, along with his wife and daughters, and everything had to be in perfect condition. Sydney had been so busy preparing, she had completely forgotten about the possibility of Michael attending the party until she saw him.

She had glanced out the kitchen door when one of the maids returned with an empty food tray and saw him only a few feet away. Her heart leapt into her throat immediately upon hearing him speaking French. Suddenly and irrationally, she bolted for the dress she had stashed. She was about to strip off her rags and change when she realized how foolish she was being.

Sneaking off to the Blair house was one thing, but pretending in the Cole’s house? That was insane. Her chances of getting caught were ridiculously high, not to mention the fact that she looked an absolute mess. Slowly, she walked back over to the kitchen door and peered out. Michael was talking to Annabelle and she was practically frothing over him. Something snapped within Sydney and she walked over to the wash basin in the kitchen with new determination, ready to make her entrance into the social world once more.

It was nearly half an hour before Sydney was fully ready. She didn’t look as well put together as before, but she was hoping to only be inside the party for a short time. Wishfully, she thought that maybe she and Michael could go out to the gardens like before. Her mission was simple: get his attention and make him follow her outside where she had less of a chance of being caught.

She was thankful that when she spotted him, he was no longer talking to Annabelle. Quickly, she looked for the Cole family members and anyone else who could recognize her. Luckily, they were all in rooms other than the one Michael was standing in. Subtly, Sydney walked past Michael and noticed out of the corner of her eye, he did a double take and quickly excused himself from the man he had been speaking with. “Sydney, I.... you came,” he sighed, almost sounding relieved.

She smiled softly at him. “Yes... were you looking for me, Mr. - oh, I’m sorry, I never received your last name.”

“Vaughn. It’s Vaughn,” he told her. “And yes, I was looking for you, Sydney.”

Sydney’s heart froze in her chest. This was Mr. Vaughn, the Mr. Vaughn that the Cole sisters spoke of constantly. The same Mr. Vaughn that was their neighbor. And she... she was the woman who Mr. Vaughn had spent the Blair party with. The woman Annabelle was insanely jealous of. How could that even be possible?

“Would you like to go for a walk, Sydney?” Michael offered with a grin as he extended his hand. His words jolted her from her thoughts and she smiled at him before taking his arm.

“So Sydney, where did you disappear to?” he asked her once they had reached the garden.

“I told you. I was taking care of my grandmother,” she said simply.

“Ah yes, I remember now. So, who is your grandmother?” he asked.

She smiled. “She’s my grandmother.”

Michael burst out laughing. “You are a secretive one, Miss Sydney.”

“Well, I’m sorry you wasted your time searching for me, Mr. Vaughn,” she told him.

He shook his head. “It was not a waste. I found you, didn’t I?”

“I believe it was I who spotted you in there,” she told him with a smile.

“But I spotted you as well.” He smiled.

“I see... so tell me, Mr. Vaughn, what is your profession?” Sydney asked as she circled him.

“Please, call me Michael, and I am a banker,” he told her.

“Sounds fascinating,” she said with a hint of amusement.

“Well, my father was a banker, so I became a banker.”

“But not in France?”

“No, not in France. I wanted a change of pace. Please quit that! You are making me dizzy!” he laughed as he tried to spin around and follow her circling.

“Sorry,” she said quietly when she stopped walking. “Am I asking too many questions?”

“No, you’re asking just the right amount as long as I can ask some of my own,” he smiled.

“You may,” she told him.

“How old are you? And yes, I realize that is an entirely inappropriate question,” he added.

She laughed softly. “I am nineteen.”

“And some lucky gentlemen hasn’t snatched you as his bride?” he asked in disbelief. She just gave him a nervous laugh and shrugged. “Tell me, what is your favorite piece of literature?”

Sydney didn’t respond for a moment. She was trying to think of an answer. Truthfully, she didn’t have one; she didn’t read much at all, even though she was one of the few servants that could read. “I don’t have one,” she told him finally.

He looked shocked. “You don’t have one?” She shook her head. “What do you do then? With your time?”

She shrugged noncommittally. What could she have said? “I like to sew.”

He nodded. “So tell me, what do you really think of these parties?”

“Why do you ask that?” she asked in surprise.

He shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the type that lives for them.”

“I’m not. Truthfully, I only came for you,” she admitted shyly. He smiled broadly.

For the next hour, they continued to talk as they sat on one of the benches in the Cole’s garden. Sydney nearly jumped a mile when someone else came into the garden, but luckily they were just passing through. It was then she realized that she needed to be leaving or risk getting caught once more. “I’m sorry Michael, I need to go. It’s getting late,” she told him sadly.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered quickly.

“NO! No... that won’t be necessary,” she corrected her sharp outburst quickly. His brow furrowed. “I mean, I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” he smiled.

“But you really, really don’t have to,” she said as she walked a few steps away. She hated the fact that she had to use an almost rude tone with him, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. He couldn’t walk her home; she had no home to go to. They only other thing she could do was explain to him who she really was and then she would surely never see him again. She didn’t want that, but on the other hand, she had no idea how they could continue seeing each other either.

“Sydney.” He stood and grabbed her arm lightly, turning her towards him. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“No! No of course not!” Sydney said quickly, feeling awful.

“Then what is it?” he asked her as he took both of her hands in his.

She looked down at their intertwined hands, not knowing what to say. “It’s.... it’s... my grandmother,” she said unsurely, attempting to continue her prior lie, but not knowing how exactly.

Michael sighed heavily. “It’s because I’m French, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Since she had no other response, Sydney decided to go with that even though she felt horrible about it. “Michael, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright; I’m used to it. It’s fine as long as you don’t share her sentiments.”

“I don’t,” she laughed softly as she looked up at him. “But I am sorry.”

He dropped one of her hands and brought his hand up to stroke her face. “I don’t want to never see you again.”

“I don’t want that either,” she told him quietly.

“Promise me we’ll find a way to see each other once more.”

“I promise,” she whispered. Then, he smiled at her, kissed the back of both of her hands and then walked off towards the Cole’s house, leaving her alone in the garden. Sydney looked up towards the star-scattered sky and offered a silent prayer that she would be able to see him once more.



Chapter 7

“Well, I’m glad to see you looking more cheerful,” Eric commented when he saw Michael walk into work the Monday following the Cole party. “Blue is not your color.”

“Thanks,” Michael laughed softly.

“So, did you meet someone at the party then?” Eric asked.

“Yep, Sydney,” he grinned.

Eric looked shocked. “You saw her again?!”

“Yes, I did.”

“Wow, she’s actually a real person?”

“Of course she’s real! She’s.... amazing. Even more amazing than I thought,” he sighed.

“You sound happy.” Eric smiled at him.

“I am!” he laughed. “But there’s a tiny problem.”

“There always is...”

“Her grandmother hates the French,” Michael said sadly.

Eric cringed. “I guess you can’t switch off that accent of yours, can you? Or oh! Wait until she dies!”

“That’s horrible,” Michael said sharply. Eric shrugged. “I just don’t know,” Michael sighed and shook his head. “I don’t even know where she lives.”

“I suppose never seeing her again wouldn’t be an option....,” Eric suggested cautiously.

“NO! Of course not! I have to see her again..... I just... I want to.... I could listen to her talk for hours. She has the most amazing voice... and her laugh... it's infectious.”

“You’re sounding dangerously close to love, my friend,” Eric patted his friend’s back.

“Maybe I am. I mean, I’ve only seen her twice, but.... I want to see her every day, all day!” he exclaimed.

“Slow down Michael, you don’t even know where she lives!”

“But I’m going to see her again and find out!” Michael told him firmly.

“Oh? You set up a meeting with her then?” Eric asked.

Michael averted his eyes. “No....”

“Uh huh,” Eric said skeptically.

“I found her once, twice! I’ll find her again,” Michael told him. Eric just walked away.

~*~

For the next few days, Sydney thought about the situation that she had created with Michael. Because of some need she couldn’t explain, she had sought him out at that party and caused herself to become even more attached to him. Now, she wanted to see him more than ever, but had no idea how she could actualize her wishes. She knew of two parties the Coles would be attending in coming weeks, but they would be traveling by horse-drawn carriage and there was no way she could go along. She was stuck.

She had completely forgotten about the fact that Michael lived near the Cole's until she heard him across the street one day when she was out yanking weeds from the flower garden. She peered at him through the vine-covered bars of the wrought iron fence as he spoke with an older woman. She couldn’t tell what they were saying since they were speaking in French, but he was laughing. His laughter made her heart flutter as it always did and his smile sent tingles down her spine.

He spoke with the woman for a few moments before walking up the steps of the house he was in front of, pulling keys from his pocket, unlocking the door, and going inside. Sydney sat back on her heels once he had disappeared. That was his house, only a few short steps away. He was so close....

Sitting there, she pondered the idea of going over to visit him, but she didn’t know how. The night of the Cole’s party, she had hid in the garden for hours until she thought it was safe to go inside. Even then, she had a close call with one of the maids. She couldn’t risk getting caught again, but at the same time, she didn’t want to risk Michael forgetting about her. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but she knew she had to try.

~*~

It was a few weeks before the scene for her visit was set. The Cole's left early in the morning to visit the country home of Mrs. Cole’s cousin and they would be spending the night there, leaving the house empty. Sydney decided that this was a perfect opportunity for a visit with Michael. She almost had her dress on when she came to a heartbreaking realization. Michael, how ever observant he wasn’t (being that he was a male), would surely notice that she was wearing the same dress for the third time in a row, which could raise suspicion. For a sad moment, she almost gave up her plans, but then decided that since the Cole’s were away, Sydney could borrow one of Elizabeth’s dresses without her knowledge. Not thinking about the severity of her actions, Sydney threw one of them on and checked her appearance in the mirror. To add a finishing touch to her ensemble, she tied a ribbon in the same color blue as her dress around her neck as a necklace.

Once she was ready, she snuck out the back and headed across the street to Michael’s house. She knocked on the door and nervously awaited an answer, hoping that he was home and not away somewhere. “May I help you?” a maid asked when she opened the door.

“Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Vaughn, if he is available. My name is Sydney,” she told her.

“Come inside please, ma’am,” the maid said as she opened the door wider. Sydney stepped inside and waited in the foyer while the maid walked off towards the back of the house. While she was waiting, Sydney observed her surroundings. Michael’s home wasn’t as elaborate as the Cole’s, not even close. It was very simple, minimally furnished and quite obvious that a woman didn’t live there.

“Sydney! This certainly is a pleasant surprise,” Michael grinned as he walked towards her.

“I do hope I’m not intruding. It wasn’t my intention to bother you,” she told him.

“You could never bother. How... how did you find me?” he asked.

“I have my ways,” she grinned. He looked suspicious. She laughed. “I intended on visiting the Cole's but they’re away and then I recalled that you were their neighbor and thought it might be nice to drop by.”

“It is nice. I’m very glad that you did. Come, sit down,” he smiled as he gestured towards the parlor. “So, how is your grandmother doing?”

For a moment, Sydney was thrown off guard, having forgotten her own lie, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, she’s... fine, I suppose. No different than usual. How have you been? Anything new?”

“Yes, actually. In a few days I’ll be leaving to return to France. I’ll be gone about a month, I’m afraid,” he told her.

“Oh, I hope everything’s alright,” Sydney said with concern.

“It is, don’t worry. My mother has insisted that I come to visit since I haven’t seen her in nearly four years,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s so nice you’ll be able to see her again.”

“Nice... sure...,” he said uncertainly. She looked at him strangely. “My mother can be slightly overbearing.”

“Oh,” Sydney laughed softly.

“Yes... I may not last the whole month,” he laughed. “Would you like to go for a walk outside? It’s such a lovely day.”

“Of course,” Sydney smiled at him. He led her out to the gardens at the back of his house and Sydney was amazed by them. He told her that they were his prized possession and from the rows and rows of beautiful, well-kept roses and other flowers she could tell this was true. They walked and talked for nearly an hour, but as they did, Sydney noticed Michael kept staring at her strangely. “What?” she asked finally.

“What, what?” he asked with confusion.

“You... you’re looking at me,” she said as a slight rose color crept into her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just.... you are so much more beautiful in the daylight. I thought your beauty was amazing in candlelight, but with the sun shining you are simply magnificent,” he told her. Her cheeks grew redder as she laughed nervously and looked away. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, it’s alright,” she told him. “I’m just not used to people saying that to me.”

“Well, it’s true,” he told her. She looked over at him and smiled. In the process, she wasn’t looking where she was going and tripped over a stray rock. She nearly toppled to the ground, but Michael caught her around the waist and lifted her back to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she laughed at herself. “Just slightly clumsy, I suppose.”

“It’s quite alright,” he said with his face close to hers. Then, he wasn’t sure why, but he brushed his lips softly against hers. He regretted it though, when she jumped back in surprise. “I... I am terribly sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized quickly.

“No, no it’s fine,” Sydney said quietly as she brought her finger to her lips that still tingled from his kiss. Michael turned away from her, his body language clearly displaying remorse. “Michael,” Sydney sighed as she placed her hand on his arm and walked around to face him. She stood up on her toes and kissed low on his cheek, very close to his lips. “It’s alright,” she whispered.

Michael smiled softly at her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug. Sydney rested her palms on his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his as they hugged; she never wanted to let go.

After talking some more, Sydney said goodbye to Michael, wishing him a safe journey to France. He kissed her cheek and promised that they’d get together in a months time, when he returned. She agreed willingly, hoping that a month would pass as quickly as possible.



Chapter 8

When Michael left, Sydney couldn’t help but feel incredibly sad. Before, when he was right across the street, she felt better somehow, even if he didn’t know she existed, not in the servant way she did, anyway. Since he was gone though, she knew she couldn’t even sneak out to talk to him, even if the opportunity arose.

By subtly eavesdropping on the Cole’s conversations, Sydney was able to find out that after a month, Michael still had not returned from France, which didn’t lighten her mood at all. She simply moped around, thinking about Michael most of the day, until she fell asleep and dreamed of him.

For two months she thought about their relationship, if it could even be labeled as that. She thought about it as she watched the summer fade away; as the leaves went from green to brilliant orange and then to brown as they floated into piles on the ground. In the end, she decided that if she had any hopes of having a future with Michael, she had to tell him the truth about who she was the next time they saw each other. She knew that in doing that, she risked losing him forever, but if she wanted to keep him she had no choice but to tell him.

It was a cold, rainy, raw day in October when the world Sydney had come to know came crashing down. Mrs. Cole called her into the parlor and she was confused because that had never happened before. It should have tipped her off that something was amiss, but it didn’t. When she walked into the parlor, Mrs. Cole was seated in one of the large chairs while Annabelle and Elizabeth were off to the side with smug expressions. Sydney curtsied politely and then said, “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes, I was hoping you could explain this,” Mrs. Cole said slowly as she pulled out the crumbled gown that Sydney had taken many months ago. Sydney’s breath caught in her chest and she took a step back, trembling and practically hyperventilating. “I believe this belongs to my daughter and you stole it, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”

“Filthy thief!” Annabelle spat.

Sydney didn’t say a word, she simply shook.

“Speak girl! This is no time to hold your tongue!” Mrs. Cole snapped.

“She threw it in the fire!” Sydney choked out. “You told me to burn it!” she told Annabelle shakily.

“So you kept it as yours?! Thief!” Annabelle screeched.

“I... I didn’t.... I...,” Sydney stammered.

“How many of our things have you taken?” Mrs. Cole asked accusingly.

“Tons probably,” Annabelle barked. “You know, I am missing two pairs of gloves and a hat. Are you missing anything, Elizabeth?”

“I... don’t think so...,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“I didn’t steal anything!” Sydney sobbed as tears began to run down her face.

“YOU STOLE THIS!” Mrs. Cole said, her voice above normal decibel. “You were hiding it from us under that pathetic stack of rags of yours. You conniving little sneak, you did this. You were at our parties too, weren’t you? I heard Mrs. Davenport talking about this dress, but I thought nothing of it until now!”

“No.... no, please...,” Sydney shook her head.

“Have you no remorse, child?!” Mrs. Cole asked in disbelief.

“I did nothing wrong!” Sydney insisted. “I saved a half-burnt dress from the fire! How is it any different than if the dress had been completely burned?!”

Off to the side, Annabelle clicked her tongue disapprovingly. Mrs. Cole’s eyes narrowed. “That is a comment I would expect from a sneaky rat like you. Why did you even bother going? Don’t you see it? Don’t you know your place in life? You were born a slave, you live as a slave and you die as one. You cannot change your status in life; it is not possible!”

“What if I want more than this?!” Sydney shouted at her, while looking down at her filthy clothing. “What if I am meant for something more; something better!”

“Who would give it to you?” Mrs. Cole asked. Sydney didn’t respond. “See, the only way to better yourself is to steal and that is unacceptable.” Just then, there was a knock at their door and Mrs. Cole got up and walked past Sydney. “You have committed a crime and now you must pay for it! She’s right there, sir,” Mrs. Cole told the policeman.

“What? NO!! NO, you can’t!! YOU CAN’T!” Sydney screamed and cried hysterically the whole time the officer was wrestling her to the ground to put iron handcuffs around her wrists. He had to physically drag her out of the house while she screamed the whole way.

Outside, the torrents of rain had stopped but the atmosphere was left murky. There were puddles on the muddy street that Sydney splashed and tumbled in as the officer was dragging her to his carriage.

Across the street, Michael had just arrived home, and upon seeing the scene unfolding, he walked over to investigate. “What is going on here?” he demanded of Mrs. Cole, who was hovering on her doorstep.

“Mr. Vaughn!” Annabelle said chipperly as she bolted out of the house past her mother. “You’ve returned! How was France?”

“Uh... fine. What’s going on?” he asked as he looked down at the writhing woman being wrestled by the officer. During her struggling, he was able to see her face for a brief moment, but thought he was hallucinating. He watched as the officer used his club to hit the woman on the side of her head and she yelped in pain.

“It’s just some servant who was stealing from us,” Annabelle said casually.

The officer stood Sydney up straight and she moaned in agony as she tried to brush her filthy mattered hair from her face. It was only then that she made eye contact with Michael and saw the look of horror on his face. “S-servant, you say?” he croaked to Annabelle.

“Yes, but she’s not important.”

“I...,” Sydney managed to croak a word, but Michael looked away, quite obviously heartbroken.

“Excuse me, Annabelle, I am quite exhausted from my journey and I’d like to rest.”

“Of course Mr. Vaughn!” Annabelle called after him, but he had already walked away. Sydney just stared at his back in silence, shocked that her entire world had crumbled in only a few short moments.



Chapter 9

Sydney didn’t remember the journey in the back of the officer’s carriage. She only remembered the painful crunching of her body against a hard floor when she was tossed into her cell. She was completely numb in more ways than one. She shivered with cold as she curled up in a corner, tucking her body in a ball as the tears began to fall down onto the straw-covered floor. Out of all the horrible things that had happened to her in the prior hour: losing her job, being arrested on accusations of theft, and losing perhaps her one and only chance at happiness, it was the broken, painful look of betrayal in Michael’s eyes that made her wish for death.

She wasn’t sure how long she was there in the cell. She drifted in and out of consciousness, partly because of the cold and partly because of the numbness she felt from losing him. All she knew was that she occasionally received some food and water, until one day when the man who entered her cell, picked her up off the ground and unlocked the chains on her wrists. Confused and weak, she simply stood there. “Get movin’ girl, go on!” he said gruffly as he shoved her forward.

She followed him slowly down a narrow corridor before they reached a large room with a desk. There, she saw someone who made a smile break out across her face and her spirits lift higher than they had been in months. Michael was handing a handful of coins to a man sitting at the desk. He had come to rescue her. She supposed he was upset at first (which was understandable), but then he had thought about it and realized what had happened. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Sydney walked over to him with a grin, but before she was able to speak he held up his hand to silence here. “I don’t want to hear a word from you,” he said sharply. Then, he turned and opened the door to leave the building.

“But.... I don’t understand,” she said as she followed him.

“You lied to me, Miss.... whatever your name is,” he said with his back still to her.

“I know, but.... I... I was going to tell you the truth!”

He scoffed. “Another lie.”

“It is not!” she insisted as she stomped her way in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to listen to her. “What if you had known the truth all along? You wouldn’t have given me a second look, would you?” she snapped. His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t have! I know it; no one ever has.”

“You still lied. You made me a fool to believe your heartfelt stories about your grandmother, when really you were just a thieving servant,” he spat.

His words shot a knife through her heart and tears burned in her eyes. Without another look at her, Michael walked around her and towards his horse, which was tied to a post. “But what about this,” she asked tearfully, referring to his payment of her bail.

“Just because I do not wish to see you again, does not mean I wish for you to die in a cold jail cell. I have spoken with Mrs. Cole and she is willing to let you work off your debt with her. Now get on, I’m returning you to the place you belong,” he told her in a stern voice. Sydney had no other choice but to do as he instructed and try her best not to cry on the way there.

~*~

“Look at you, it’s pathetic,” Eric shook his head as he watched his friend peer out the front window of his home.

Michael turned and looked behind him. “What?”

“You’ve been staring out that window at the Cole house for three weeks. Don’t act like I don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” Eric said. Michael gave no response except to turn back to the window. Outside he could see Sydney carrying wood through the snow for the fires inside the Cole house.

“Come on, Michael,” Eric continued. “So she told a little fib...”

“It wasn’t a fib. It was a lie. She lied about who she was,” Michael snapped.

“Oh really? Did she tell you she was the wealthiest girl in England?” he challenged.

“No, but she lied about her grandmother!”

“So what? She was probably terrified. I forget, who approached who that first night? Oh, and who obsessively looked for her for weeks? And who-”

“I see your point,” Michael cut him off. “But she still lied.”

“And she apologized, didn’t she?” Eric asked.

Michael’s eyes drifted towards the window once more as he recalled dropping Sydney off after bailing her out of jail. I’m sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you, Michael, she had told him quietly. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Eric sighed and shook his head. “All I know is this: every time you came to me after being around her, you were a different person. You were happy and you couldn’t stop talking about her. So if she’s the woman that’s going to make you happy; the woman you want to share your life with, then who cares who she is in society?”

Michael looked at his friend, slightly shocked that he had said that. “I just think you should be happy, Michael,” Eric said finally.

Michael sighed and looked back out the window. He wanted to be happy as well, and he only knew of one way to do it.

~*~

Sydney was on her hands and knees rearranging the logs in the kitchen fire when Mrs. Cole burst in to the kitchen. “GET UP!” she commanded. “Get up and get out!”

Sydney turned slowly, completely stunned. Since her return, Mrs. Cole hadn’t spoken one word to her. The other servants were the ones that detailed her about her horrid tasks, even worse than the ones she had before. “Excuse me?” she asked quietly.

“GET OUT,” Mrs. Cole repeated forcefully. “Your debt has been repaid and I want you out of my house immediately.”

“Debt repaid....,” Sydney repeated quietly with confusion. But she had no further time to dwell on that thought for Mrs. Cole grabbed a broom and began beating Sydney with it. Sydney quickly scurried to her feet and out the front door, which was the direction Mrs. Cole was shooing her.

The door slammed hard behind her and Sydney shivered violently from the frigid air and the snow falling around her. Suddenly, she was horrified. She was homeless in the middle of a potential snow storm. Surely she would freeze to death. She was about to panic until she heard someone clearing their throat. Her head snapped up and she saw Michael with his hands in his pockets standing at the end of the Cole’s front walkway.

Sydney took a few steps forward in utter disbelief. “What... what are you d-doing?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“You’re freezing! Here, take this,” he said as he quickly shrugged off his topcoat and placed it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she sighed as she sunk into its enveloping warmth. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“Come, we should get out of the snow,” he said as he took her hand and began to lead her across the street. Sydney was more confused than ever but she stopped when they reached his doorstep.

“I cannot go inside; I’m filthy,” she told him.

“It’s alright,” he said as he pulled her inside. She reluctantly followed. Once inside, she handed him back his coat and thanked him.

“Please, tell me what is going on,” she begged finally.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m very, very sorry that I was so short with you before.”

She looked to the floor. “It’s alright, you were upset.”

“I was upset with you,” he sighed.

“I know,” she gulped with a horrible feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach. “And I am very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.... everything just got out of control. Whether you believe me or not I was going to tell you after you returned from Paris.”

“I believe you,” he said. She looked up at him. “I believe you and I’m sorry you felt like you had to lie to me, but you were right. I would have treated you different if I had known you were a servant. I wouldn’t have been able to see the real you; the good person inside. But I did; I was able to see her and I fell in love with her-er, you,” he corrected himself with a laugh.

Sydney’s heart leapt right into her throat and tears choked her. “What?” she gulped.

“I love you Sydney and I paid Mrs. Cole so-”

“Wait,” she interrupted him, just then fully grasping what was happening. “You... you paid her?”

“Yes, I paid her,” he smiled. “I paid her so that we... we could be together... we, you and I, Sydney, together.”

“Oh Michael....,” Sydney choked as a tear dripped down her face. He reached out and brushed it away with his thumb before pulling her close. “Oh no, wait,” she stepped back. “I’m a filthy mess.”

“Go, upstairs,” he nodded towards the steps in his house. “I’ll have Anna draw you a bath.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

He nodded with a grin. “I’ll be down here waiting for you when you're finished.”



Chapter 10

Sydney hadn’t taken a proper bath since childhood, given that servants weren’t exactly welcomed to use their employer’s tub (especially not in the Cole household), so she refused to get out until the water had turned so cold that she couldn’t stand it any longer. Once she was out and drying herself off, she found that the maid had laid out a beautiful dress for her to wear; one quite similar to the one she had taken from Annabelle, but in a deep purple color. Sydney put it on along with the boots she found and examined her reflection in the mirror. She was smiling immensely and had the feeling that the grin would never leave her face.

After she was finished, she went downstairs and found Michael waiting in the parlor like he had promised. “You look lovely,” he said as he stood when she entered the room.

She blushed slightly and smiled. “This dress is gorgeous, but unnecessary,” she told him.

“Of course it’s necessary. I can’t have you running around without a stitch of clothing on,” he smiled. She gasped loudly and laughed at the same time. “I only bought you three for the meantime. The rest you can have made to your own specifications.”

“I can make my own clothes,” she insisted.

He laughed and shrugged. “Whatever you’d like.”

“Michael,” she sighed as she stepped towards him. “When.... when you said together.... what did you mean exactly?” she asked cautiously.

He closed the distance between them and clasped her hands in his. “Marriage, mon chère. I wish for you to be my wife,” he told her.

She shut her eyes as tears began to fall once more. “How is it possible?” she wondered aloud rather quietly.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just...,” she sighed and opened her eyes. “I... I’ve wanted that for so long; I’ve wished for it.”

“Sometimes wishes come true,” he smiled. She just shook her head softly, stepped forward and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He brushed a soft kiss upon her head and wrapped his arm around her. “Sydney, I must tell you something,” he said after a moment of their embrace. She pulled back and looked at him curiously. He took her hand and led her to the sofa, where they sat before he spoke again.

“The reason I was so long in France was because my mother fell ill while I was there,” he told her.

“Oh no! I hope she is alright,” Sydney said with obvious concern.

“Well, I’m not sure, which is why I’m returning there. I only came here to put my things in order, because I will be returning to France permanently,” he said. Then, he squeezed her hand and continued, “I wish for you to come with me, Sydney. I realize you’ve lived here your whole life but-”

“It’s alright,” she cut him off with a smile. His wary expression turned hopeful. “I love you, Michael, and I want to marry you so I’ll follow you wherever you take us. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see France. This will be like a new beginning for both of us.”

He laughed softly. “That sounds wonderful,” he said. Then, he leaned his face in closer to hers, paused and waited for her to do the same. She did and he kissed her softly. Then she smiled one of her immense dimpled smiles that he loved so much. “So, when do you want to get married? We can do so before we leave London or wait until we’re in France, but I must warn you, my mother, sick or not, will take over everything.”

Sydney laughed softly. “I do not care... whichever you prefer.”

“I’d prefer not to wait another second,” he smiled. “How about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday?! That’s in two days!” she laughed.

“Too soon?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” she smiled. “I’m just not sure we can accomplish all the details by then.”

“We will, I promise. Then Friday we’ll return to France,” he told her.

Sydney laughed and rubbed her hand across her face. “It’s all so fast... this is just... amazing!”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He smiled. Then, he moved closer to her on the couch and put his arm around her. “So tell me something, how did you get that dress from Annabelle?” he asked. Sydney laughed and told him the story about Annabelle’s tantrum and the dress in the fire.

Throughout the story, Michael laughed. “Annabelle’s behavior doesn’t surprise me in the least and it makes me even more thankful that I kept ignoring Mrs. Cole’s subtle hints for me to marry her daughter.”

“Yes, I always felt pity for whatever man was stuck with her,” Sydney laughed as well.

“Mmm, yes,” Michael sighed. “Tell me something else, Sydney.”

“What?” she asked.

“How someone like you became trapped in a life like that,” he said, nodding out the window towards the Cole’s.

Sydney sighed and looked away from Michael towards the fire across the room. “We lived quite a ways north of London. My father was a farmer; my mother a seamstress. I had a younger sister, too. We weren’t wealthy, but I never really thought we were suffering either. We were happy, until the year I was ten years old.

“It started with my sister. She was only four at the time and she was very, very sick. Then, my mother became sick from caring for her and I was left to care for both of them. Only a few weeks after she fell ill, my sister died and my mother got worse and then passed as well,” Sydney told him, her voice amazingly steady. Michael’s heart broke for her.

“My father and I were devastated, of course,” Sydney continued. “But we managed everything for ourselves for a few months. I took over my mother’s dressmaking and he continued to work the farm until one day he collapsed and died as well. What I then found out was that he had accumulated quite a great deal of debt. His debtor took me and sold me to the Cole's for payment and I’ve been there ever since.”

“Oh Sydney,” Michael sighed as he pulled her close. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright; it’s been nearly ten years. I couldn’t change my circumstances so I just lived them the best I could, even though I was loathing them the whole time,” she laughed softly.

“Well, you don’t have to loathe them anymore, right?”

“No, never,” she shook her head.

He smiled at her. “Come, it’s getting rather late. Are you getting hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” she laughed.

“Well then, you’ll eat until you can eat no more tonight. Come on,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the dining room.

After Sydney ate as much of the delicious meal as she could, she and Michael returned to the parlor where they talked quietly in front of the fireplace until it was time for bed. “Now, we have a slight problem, you see, I only have one bed,” Michael told her as they ascended the stairs. “I never had any use for a second one, you see, but I’d be more than willing to sleep down on the sofa or on the floor-”

“No,” Sydney interrupted him. “I cannot make you do that. I will sleep on the floor; I’m used to it anyway.”

“Sydney, I cannot let you sleep on the floor. What kind of a husband would I be then?” he laughed.

“It’s really not a problem,” she said as she followed him into his bedroom. “Look, I’ll sleep by the fire. I’ll be warmer there anyway.”

“Then.... I’ll sleep on the floor with you,” he suggested.

“That would be absurd. If we’re going to do that we may as well share the bed,” she laughed. Michael looked wary at this scandalous suggestion. “Michael, we’re going to be married in two days time. Besides, who would find out? I certainly would tell no one,” she smiled.

He laughed softly. “Very well, we won’t let the maids find out either. They talk, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” she said with a slight laugh. It took him a moment to fully realize what she had said and then he laughed as well.

While the maid was fixing their fire, Michael pretended as though he would be sleeping on the floor by the fire, but once she was gone, he joined Sydney in the bed. “What’s the matter?” he laughed at the way she was trying to get comfortable.

“I’m not used to sleeping in a bed,” she explained. “It’s... soft.”

He laughed. “I doubt I’ve ever heard anyone complain about how soft a bed was before.”

“I’m not complaining, simply commenting,” she insisted.

“My apologies then,” he smiled. Once she stopped moving around, he leaned over and kissed her forehead softly. “Bonne nuit mon amour.”



Chapter 11

The next morning when Sydney awoke, she was convinced she was still dreaming. She couldn’t possibly be in a warm bed, about to marry the man that she loved. No, that was a hallucination and she was really back on the floor of the kitchen in the Cole’s house. But then she felt the bed move as Michael slid out and she opened her eyes to realize that her dreams had come true. She sighed contently as she snuggled deeper into the blankets, not wanting to face the freezing environment outside quite yet.

About fifteen minutes later, Michael returned, fully dressed and stared down at her, trying to determine if she was up or not. “I’m awake,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” he laughed. “Well, I have to leave and finish up some things at work. Then, I’m going set up some plans for our wedding. I’ll be gone most of the day, will you be alright?”

“Of course, but what will I do?” she asked.

“Whatever you want to do,” he smiled.

Sydney thought for a moment. “Do you need any packing done?”

He laughed. “I didn’t mean work!”

“Well... I cannot just go from working hard every day to not working at all in an instant!” she insisted.

“Very well, you may pack up the books in the library if you wish,” he told her. She smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye,” she called after him he walked away.

After dressing, Sydney went downstairs and found that the maids had breakfast prepared for her. She ate some of it, but not a lot, since she wasn’t used to having so much food and wasn’t very hungry at all. Then, she began to explore the house until she found the library. A few wooden crates sat on the ground and Sydney supposed they were for packing away the books. She began to stack the books neatly, but soon became distracted by the books themselves. She had never seen so many books in her life and she began to page through them. Most were written in Italian or French so she was unable to read them, but a few were in English, so she read those.

It was afternoon before she realized it, so she forced herself to stop reading and finish packing the books so they’d be finished when Michael arrived home. When she heard the front door open, she ran from the library to greet him and found that he wasn’t alone. “Sydney, I’d like you to meet my friend Eric Weiss and his wife, Elizabeth,” Michael introduced them.

Sydney smiled, immediately recognizing this Eric as the man from a few of Michael’s stories. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” she said. Then, she went silent having no idea how to be a proper hostess.

“They’ll be joining us for an early dinner as well as at the wedding tomorrow,” Michael told her.

“Tomorrow?” she laughed softly. “I had nearly forgotten.”

“Forgotten your wedding?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.

“No, forgotten that tomorrow was Wednesday. It’s just soon, that’s all. Not too soon though,” she assured Michael with a smile.

“Of course not. You’ll have to forgive her, she just found out about the move to France. Poor thing... I’ve been driving her mad with changes,” Michael laughed and then Eric and his wife did as well.

Throughout dinner, Michael shared with Sydney as well as their guests the wedding he had created upon such short notice. They would be married in a church not too far from the house, by a priest who owed Michael a favor because of a loan Michael had given him. Eric and his wife would be the only attendees and the whole thing would be very simple. With all the talk and discussion, Sydney's excitement grew more and more, though she was still in utter disbelief that by that time the following day she would be married. Still, she was happy, incredibly happy.

~*~

“You know what I was wondering about?” Sydney whispered to Michael that night while they were in his bed once more.

“Hm?” he grunted.

“Children. Did you want to have children, Michael?” she asked him.

He turned his head to face her and smiled. “Of course... don’t you?”

“Yes,” she grinned. “I’ve always wanted children, which is one of the reasons why I was so unhappy at the Cole's. I knew I could never have children.”

“Well, now you can have as many as you’d like.”

“And... how many will that be exactly?” she asked cautiously.

He laughed. “I don’t care. One... two... doesn’t matter to me.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Bonne nuit,” Michael sighed.

“Bonne nuit,” she repeated, though slightly mispronounced.

“Close enough,” he laughed.

~*~

The following morning was incredibly hectic for Sydney. Eric’s wife, Elizabeth, came over to help her dress and get ready which basically consisted of Elizabeth becoming overly frustrated and telling Sydney not to move at all. Elizabeth fixed her hair and tied her corset extremely tight so that Sydney could hardly breath, which considering the fact that she was already nervous, only made things worse. Once she was completely ready, Elizabeth helped her into the back of the carriage that was taking them to the church, where the men were already waiting.

While riding, Sydney began to shake with panic and Elizabeth noticed her nervousness. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just... I don’t know how to be someone’s wife! I’ll be horrible!” she whimpered.

“You’ll be fine,” Elizabeth told her. “It’s not difficult.”

“But-”

“You’re going to be fine,” Elizabeth assured her calmly, but Sydney remained nervous.

Once they reached the church, Michael was waiting for them right inside the door and a look of shock crossed his face when he saw Sydney. “You look.... different- good different,” he assured her.

“Elizabeth did my hair... I don’t like it,” Sydney told him quietly.

He laughed. “You look beautiful,” he told her.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She giggled.

“I truly hope I was never that nauseating,” Eric grimaced from behind them. Sydney and Michael simply ignored him as they made their way to the alter where the priest was waiting.

Sydney was surprised at how short their ceremony was, but the fact that Michael was officially her husband made her happier than she could ever express. After chatting with Eric and his wife, who wished them a safe journey to France, Sydney and Michael left so that they could file their marriage license with the government offices before they closed. They held hands the entire time and neither of them could remove the grins from their faces.

“So... you’re my husband now!” Sydney squealed as if that was brand new information to her when they walked into Michael’s house.

“Yes,” he laughed.

“That’s so exciting!” she said with a giddy little jump.

“You’re too cute,” he laughed softly at her.

“Well, now that you’re my husband it means I can do this,” she said before kissing him quickly.

“Well then, that means I can do this,” he said as he pulled her into a longer kiss.

“Uh huh...,” Sydney sighed dreamily when they broke their kiss. Just as they were both leaning in again, Sydney pulled back. “Um, maybe we should... not do this in the middle of the foyer.”

“An excellent point,” he smiled.

~*~

The next morning, Sydney was startled awake by a loud clap of thunder overhead. Since she had been in such a deep sleep, she jumped about a foot, accidentally punching Michael in the face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly while he was moaning in pain. “It was an accident! Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he groaned as he rubbed his nose. “But that was an interesting way to wake up on the... second day of marriage.”

Sydney couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled the covers back up around them. “The thunder scared me.”

“Clearly,” he sighed and then he leaned over and kissed her. “Morning, Mrs. Vaughn.”

She giggled. “Morning, Monsieur Vaughn.”

“Ohh see, you’ll be learning French in no time.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes. “You know what though? I really like marriage... even if it’s been less than a day.”

“I like marriage too,” he smiled and then kissed her. Then, another rumble was heard overhead and Sydney shivered.

“I don’t like thunderstorms,” she said quietly.

“Oh you poor thing, come here,” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. “You ready to go to France tomorrow? Assuming there are no thunderstorms, that is.”

“Yes, very ready,” She smiled. “You think your parents will like me?”

“Of course they will... just so you know though, my mother doesn’t speak a word of English,” he told her.

Sydney gaped at him. “Then what am I supposed to do?! I don’t speak a word of French!”

“Relax, relax. My father and I will translate should a need for communication arise.”

“Oh,” Sydney said though she still sounded unsure.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her as he tapped her nose lightly. “It’s actually better if you can’t speak to her,” he smiled. She laughed.

~*~

Friday morning, Michael was standing out at the carriage in front of his house, making sure all his and Sydney’s luggage was secure. They had a three hour carriage ride to the docks and then their ship would take them across the English Channel overnight. As he was checking everything, Annabelle Cole crossed the street and approached him. “Mr. Vaughn, I just found out that you are returning to France! Will your move be permanent?”

“I’m afraid it will, Miss Cole,” Michael told her. “My mother is ill.”

“Oh, I am terribly sorry. You will be missed here in London. I-” but Annabelle stopped speaking when she saw Sydney exit the house carrying a small traveling case, which she handed to Michael.

“Do you have everything?” he asked her with a smile.

“I do. Good day, Miss Cole,” Sydney said just as casually as ever to Annabelle before Michael helped her inside the carriage. Annabelle’s jaw was practically resting on the street.

“I’m terribly sorry to rush off Miss Cole, but my wife and I must go or we’ll be late,” Michael said, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘wife’. “Good day, Miss Cole,” he said before climbing into the carriage beside Sydney.

Inside the carriage, Sydney watched as Annabelle screeched and ran across the street, shouting to her mother about injustice. She couldn’t help but laugh; that had been one of the best moments of her life.



Chapter 12

The entire carriage ride, Sydney was on the edge of her seat, looking out the windows across the passing countryside. Michael found her amusement at trivial, everyday things completely adorable. Once they reached the docks, her eyes opened wide. “What’s the matter?” Michael asked her.

“I’ve never seen a ship like that before,” she gulped.

“It’s fine. We’ll be traveling overnight, come on,” he said as he climbed out of the carriage then helped her out. He made sure all the luggage was going to the right place before pulling Sydney, who was observing everything on the crowded, busy dock, towards the ramp to get on the boat. She froze at the foot of the ramp in terror.

“It’s alright,” he whispered in her ear. Then he put a firm arm around her waist and pulled her up the ramp with him. She clung to him tighly, almost painfully, until they reached the ship’s deck.

“I don’t like boats,” she whimpered.

“I know, sweetie. Let’s just get to our cabin,” he said as he guided her towards the interior part of the ship.

Unfortunately for Sydney, her first venture on a ship was not the best it could have been. Because of the previous day’s storm, the sea was rough and choppy and thus the boat rocked rather violently, causing Sydney to feel positively miserable. Michael felt terrible himself, seeing her that way. She clung to him tightly the whole night, tighter every time the boat really shook, and cried softly.

When the boat reached shore in the early morning, Sydney, though exhausted, was the first one off the boat, swearing the whole time that she’d never return to England.

“I promise, you won’t have to,” Michael told her as they waited for their luggage to be unloaded. “We have a fairly long carriage ride ahead of us; maybe you can get some sleep then.” Sydney nodded slowly and climbed inside their carriage.

Both of them slept most of the ride there. Michael awoke first and then he woke Sydney when they were nearing his parent’s residence. “You can see it through these trees,” he pointed out the window.

Sydney nodded and tried to see the house through the trees. When she caught sight of it, she thought she was hallucinating. “Michael..... I thought you said your father was a banker.”

“He is,” Michael told her.

“But... that’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen!”

Michael laughed softly. “It belonged to my mother’s parents. My father refused to quit his job when my parents were married. He says he doesn’t see why he should waste his days when other people have to work and I feel the same, much to my mother’s disapproval, mind you,” Michael told her.

“I... I don’t know if I can do this,” she shook her head as she rubbed her eyes.

“What?”

“Your parents are so wealthy.... I’m just a peasant – no, worse, a servant,” she said sadly.

“Sydney, that doesn’t matter,” he told her as he tilted her chin up with his finger. “All that matters is who you are. You are a hundred times better than any of the wealthy women I’ve met, so don’t worry about it, alight?” he smiled. She nodded softly and then he kissed her.

When they pulled up to the front of the house and got out, Sydney stared up at the massive stone structure in front of her in disbelief. She had only been standing there for a moment or so when a woman came rushing out of the house chattering in French. “Michel! Tu es rentré plus tôt que je ne le pensais!”

“Bonjour Mère,” Michael said as he greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek. “Vous êtes sensée vous reposer.”

“Pas du tout, je vais bien. Qui est cette belle femme?” she asked as she turned to Sydney. Sydney just smiled softly at her, not understanding one word of their exchange. “Est-elle la femme dont tu m'as parlé?”

“Oui, c'est elle,” Michael said as he put his arm around her waist. “Mère, voici ma femme, Sydney.”

“Vous êtes mariés?” she gasped, clearly offended.

“Maman, s'il vous plaît calmez vous, elle ne parle pas français,” Michael cut his mother off and then turned to Sydney. “I just told her we’re married.”

“Oh,” Sydney nodded in understanding of his mother’s reaction.

“Comment??!! Elle ne sait pas parler français?!” his mother gasped in shock.

“Nous devrions rentrer à l'intérieur. We’re going to go sit inside,” Michael told Sydney. She nodded and followed him and his mother in, knowing that this was already a bad start. “Où est père?” Michael asked his mother.

“Je suis ici,” a tall man said as he walked into the foyer. “Qui est-ce?” he asked, looking over his son to see Sydney, who was observing the home in total shock.

“Il s'est marrié,” Amelia said, still sounding offended.

“Father, this is my wife, Sydney. She doesn’t speak French,” Michael told his father.

“Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you, my dear,” his father said as he shook her hand.

Sydney had never been more thankful to hear English. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Vaughn.”

“When did you two marry?” Mr. Vaughn asked.

“Wednesday,” Michael told him with a smile. “Why don’t we all sit, then we’ll explain,” Michael suggested to his parents as he gestured towards their parlor.

Once seated, Michael began to explain his relationship with Sydney, which took a long time, since it was being translated back and forth into two different languages. When it was over, Mrs. Vaughn seemed to have warmed to Sydney quite a bit and was carrying on a conversation with her while Michael and his father alternated translating. In the end, they decided it was best if Mrs. Vaughn attempted to learn English and Sydney focused on learning French, because they knew that another few weeks of translating would drive them insane. Sydney felt confident in her ability to learn though, since she had already picked up a few words by the end of their conversation and she knew that being immersed in the language would help greatly.

“So you think you’ll be happy here?” Michael asked Sydney that evening when they were settling into their new quarters.

“You mean in the gorgeous mansion in the middle of the beautiful French countryside? Yes, I think I’ll adjust,” she smiled.

He laughed. “Good.”



Epilogue

It only took Sydney a few months to be able to converse relatively well in French, mostly because she practiced it profusely. Of course, it took her nearly a year to be able to read and write it properly, but by the time their daughter, Liliane, was born a little over a year into their marriage, Sydney could fully communicate in both languages. Unfortunately, Mrs. Vaughn passed away shortly after the birth of her granddaughter, but they all had enjoyed their brief time they spent together.

A year after Liliane, her brother Pierre was born, completing the Vaughn family. Michael, Sydney and their children would spend hours playing in the gardens around their home, then they would spend time teaching the children in both languages. Sydney loved her life with Michael and she never, ever had to wish for more than she had, because she had everything she'd ever wanted.

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