Eyes on You by Rinoa Rated PG Standard Disclaimers Apply. Chapter 3 "Serena....SERENA!!" the faint voice reaching her consciousness, insistently demanding her attention. She could feel someone's hand on her arm, shaking her wildly, so she complied and turned her body into a more comfortable position. "Serena, WAKE UP!" It was getting louder this time, valiantly trying to reach her so she decided to reward it by answering. "Hmmmmmm?" Content that she did her part, she buried her head on the hard pillow. "You asked for it." It was that voice again, faintly menacing this time. THUD! Her eyes flew open, and her quick mind realized that she wasn't in her bed. She tried to move her head to the side and she discovered that she had the beginnings of a headache from where her head connected with the floor. Belatedly noticing a pair of feet standing in front of her, she blinked owlishly and let her eyes travel upwards and took in the brown wool dress and the smudged apron. "Lita?" she asked uncertainly. 'Well, it's about time.' Lita thought as she tossed the blanket aside and yanked the sleepy eyed girl. "Stand up." She ordered taking Serena's hand and helping her up. Eyeing her critically, Lita proceeded to shove her to the copper basin filled with water and began to lecture her as she started to wash her face. "You're lucky that I remembered to wake you up, if Mrs. Neal catches you sleeping at this late hour, who knows what she might do to you." she preached shaking her head. "Oh, probably throw this wash basin at me." Serena replied blithely, tapping her face dry with the small worn out towel. "How do you know?" Lita asked as she watched in wonder as Serena began to fix her bed, comb her hair and get dressed at almost the same time. "She told me herself, that's how." She grimaced, remembering the dragon faced housekeeper as she tucked her hair underneath the small white maids cap. She inspected herself at the small mirror she brought with her and then faced a distracted Lita. "Hey, is something the matter?" she asked, tilting her head to look fully at the tall girl's face. "You're a wonder." Lita exclaimed. Not catching on to what Lita meant, Serena just laughed and linked her arm with her and made their way to the kitchen. "What I really am, is extremely lucky." Serena muttered under her breath as she arrived at the kitchen in time for Mrs. Neal's regular orders. "Serena." The stern gray haired woman barked, finally turning her attention to the petite blonde. "Yes ma'am?" she answered in a clear voice which amazed the maids and the grooms that gathered around for their usual meeting. It was said that Mrs. Neal is probably the incarnation of Queen Elizabeth, with her sharp tongue and the way she orders people around, everybody cowers at her presence... except the new maid. "As I said earlier, his Grace is coming tonight which means everything should be running smoothly. You are new here and I will not tolerate tardiness. You will be helping Lita with the preparation of his dinner so that would mean that you will not be a part of the entourage that will welcome him home, do I make myself clear?" Mrs. Neal said sternly. "Yes ma'am" Serena answered obediently. Inwardly she was somewhat disappointed that she would not be able to get glimpse of the enigmatic Duke of Radbury, she said as much to Lita when they were finally alone. "Have you seen the Duke, Leets?" she asked curiously. "No." Lita answered. "WHAT? You've been working here for 3 years and you haven't seen him?" she said incredulously. She could not understand Lita's disinterest with their employer knowing full well that Lita is such a wonderful gossip. "It's not necessary really. I cook for him, he pays me, that's how things work around here." Lita shrugged, while looking for the sharpest kitchen knife by testing it's edges. "And...and everybody here feels the same way?" she asked wide eyed at the revelation. "I know you're not used to the way things work around here and I have no idea how to make you understand, but t here are social barriers around us, in their circle, in our circle...do you understand what I'm getting at?" Lita asked even though the look on her friend's eyes registered confusion. "No," she replied honestly. This philosophy is so different from the one her father taught her, where strength of character and honor outweighs noble titles and great riches. Lita gave a small sigh at her friend's admission and knew full well that she should have expected it. From the moment Serena stepped in the household, Lita sensed that the girl was different from the rest of them, she was friendly to everybody, may it be a serving maid or the under butler. She was amazed at the fact that Serena was educated. She can read and write and knows lots of stories, most of them written by a man named Shakespeare; and she does not posses the usual peasant slang that country girls usually have. If Lita hadn't known better, she might have passed as a merchant or nobleman's daughter. Serena bade Lita good-bye and went off to work. She was amazed at the size of the Duke's manor and often times she would get lost, like she was right now. Looking at the long corridor, she decided to try the door on the right. Upon entering, she quickly registered that she was in the wrong room again, the room she was in was very dusty, covered with cobwebs as if it hasn't been used for years. It belonged to a man, that she could tell by the dark wood paneling, the deep blue walls, the mahogany furniture. It was a drawing room and the door at the side could only lead to the bedroom. She almost left when a painting captured her eye. It was rather dark so she went to one of the curtains and yanked it to the side causing sunlight to bathe the room. She stared transfixed at the painting. It was a portrait, very well done. She could tell based on her father's work. A handsome man in his early twenties with sunny blonde hair and smiling blue eyes was sitting underneath a tree, standing beside him, was a young boy with coal black hair and blue eyes identical in color and expression with that of the blonde's. They could only be brothers, she mused, charmed by the way the small boy had a hand on the older man's shoulder. She wondered why such a touching work of art was hidden here in the darkness while other beautiful, yet less expressive paintings hung outside to be seen. She did not know how long she stood there and stared at the painting when a voice suddenly jolted her from her reverie. "Serena!?" a woman's voice called out softly. Recognizing the French accent, Serena immediately went out of the room and looked for the owner of the voice who was currently peeking into one of the doors near her. "Bonjour, Paulette!" Serena greeted in French. She and Paulette had been speaking French since they became friends. At first, Paulette was surprised by her knowledge of her native tongue, but then again, many things about her surprised the dark haired maid. "You have been exploring again!" Paulette reprimanded with a shake of her head. "I got lost." she argued, which was futile because Paulette knew her well. "You have better stop that, what if Mrs. Neal catches you or worse, his Grace is coming home tonight, what if he catches you!?" Paulette exclaimed horrified with the thought, she had gone through two households and neither of her former employers were very kind, nor forgiving. "You'd tell me what his Grace looks like, won't you?" she pleaded suddenly remembering her curiosity. "I promise, but it is better that you don't see him, Sere." Paulette declared empathetically. "Why ever not?" she asked curiously. "Because he might give you nightmares." Paulette predicted causing Serena to giggle. "Oh truly, Sere, I've seen a lot of noble men in my life. First, they start off as pale sickly children; then, as they get older they turn fat and sweaty, just like pigs!" she continued giggling herself. "That's because the only noblemen you've seen are French, the English are much more muscular." Serena teased, her nose high in the air. "Have you seen my brother, Jean Luc? Why he puts all Englishmen to shame!" Paulette cried, referring to her older brother who works at the stables. "Lita did say that he is handsome." Serena conceded. Their light comfortable teasing was suddenly halted to a stop when they heard the loud vibration of the clocks around the house. "Seven o'clock! Mrs. Neal's making her rounds!" Paulette exclaimed, and without preamble the girls sprinted down the hallway with Paulette leading the way and Serena at her heals. They immediately busied themselves neither one talking as the dreaded Mrs. Neal poked her head a few minutes later to criticize their work. Walking to the nearest table, she drew a finger at the top of the furniture and narrowed her eyes at what she saw. "Dust, dust, dust! You have been working here for an hour and I still see dust! Have you two been listening to me earlier, especially you, Serena? I have said specifically that I would not tolerated incompetence, not in this household. I realize that this is your first job at a house like this, so I tried to make allowances for you, but Paulette, not you too, I expected more from you and I have to say that I'm terribly disappointed!" Mrs. Neal huffed with one last withering glance at their direction as she left the room. "I'm sorry, Paulette." she said guiltily when Mrs. Neal was out of an earshot. "Forget about it, the old dragon is like that to every new girl in this place. She would rather die than leave us unscathed." the other girl assured. They continued their work in comfortable silence when a thought suddenly occurred to Serena. "Paulette, his Grace has a lot of houses doesn't he?" she asked pausing from her work on the gilt edged mirror. "Oui." Paulette answered not bothering to look up from her work. "And...and each of those houses are maintained by people like us." she continued. "Oui." Paulette answered again. "Doesn't it strike you odd that people keep cleaning his houses even though he doesn't live there?" she said getting to the point of her concern. "No, because that's the way things are." Paulette answered with a sureness born of her understanding of the upper class. "I don't understand." Serena confessed, confused again about 'the way things are'. "His Grace is rich, he has the money to do whatever he pleases, we don't have to understand his motives." Paulette explained, ending the conversation and getting back to work. Everything about the household confused and baffled her, everybody seemed so indifferent with their relationship with the Duke, as always the explanation she gets is "that's the way things work" or "that's the way things are". She thought when she went out of her small village, she would gain freedom to find her own self, but here she felt even more restricted with rules and rigorous schedules where everybody is fitted into a mold that she could not conform. A sudden wave of homesickness engulfed her, Molly and Jenny were probably married by now and she wasn't there to be with them, the hunting season was starting and she wouldn't be able to masquerade as a boy to join them. Most of all, she missed her father, their long talks, their fights, their memories of her mother. She had to blink her eyes a few times to banish the errant tears. She caught her reflection at the mirror and her eyes misted yet again at the thought of what Timmy would say if he saw her in a prim maid's uniform with a matching white cap. She shook her head and concentrated on her work. It was only hours later when she returned to the kitchen to have lunch and found out that lunch hasn't been cooked yet. "Lita!" she called out loudly, she barely heard her voice above the furious chopping, the boiling, the clattering of copper pans and the desperate cluck of the chickens being scalded in hot water. "Over here!" she heard Lita's voice reply, she carefully made her way to where Lita stood, avoiding anybody who happen to have knives in hand seeing that everyone is in a foul mood with the heat, the cluttered atmosphere, and the empty stomachs. She was breathing heavily when she finally reached her tall friend beside a table with a huge rolling pin in her hand. "What are you doing?" Serena asked, her stomach growling insistently, right now she can eat whatever is under that rolling pin. "The Duke is having pie for desert tonight." Lita answered adding more lard on the dough. "Dessert tonight, where is lunch?" Serena asked blankly. "You don't know? We're not having lunch today, breakfast *is* lunch." Lita informed not noticing Serena's face turn from agony to despair. "I didn't have breakfast Leets, I woke up late remember? Do you have an apple or something hidden inside one of those cupboards or wherever it is you hide food?" she pleaded. She was used to skipping breakfast back home, but she never skipped lunch, not after a hard days work. "I'll see what I can do for you." Lita said abandoning her work to go to the end of the kitchen where food was stored. Serena followed Lita calming her stomach with the thoughts of food, even if it is only an apple, all hopes were dashed when Lita screamed. "What is it Leets?" Serena said alarmed, not seeing around the tall girl for the cause. "No apples! We have no apples." Lita chanted. No apples equals no lunch. "My dessert!" Lita cried. "It's okay, Leets, you can do a different kind." Serena comforted. "No, you don't understand, his Grace only eats one kind of pie." Lita moaned thinking of Mrs. Neal's wrath. Suddenly a great booming voice was heard throughout the kitchen. "ATTENTION!" All work was halted at the sound of that voice and the only noise that can be heard is the boiling pots and some of the chickens that were still alive. "We have a dire emergency." It was Mrs. Neal and she looked a bit pale. "His Grace is coming in less than six hours and it came to my attention that we are short of supplies for the master's supper, now I need someone to go to the nearest town to get what we need, now I need some---" Realizing what was happening, Serena did not let the old woman finish when she raised her hand and volunteered herself. "Me, ma'am, I'll go." she said enthusiastically thinking about lunch. "You?" Mrs. Neal uttered looking at her up and down, the word and gesture spoke volumes of what the woman thought of her qualification. Serena stood still and nodded her head. The kitchen clock struck one. "All right. Be quick about it, come over here and I'll hand you a list." Mrs. Neal said hurriedly amidst the mass of cooks closing around her to present their needs. After she had changed clothes, she went out and found Jean Luc, Paulette's handsome older brother attaching a horse to a wooden cart. "Is everything ready?" Serena inquired. Jean Luc grinned as he recognized her voice He really liked the beautiful new girl; she was sweet, friendly and there was not a hint of flirtatiousness in her personality. "Good afternoon, cherie. Did Mrs. Neal order you to go to town?" he asked worried, Mrs. Neal told him to sadle a horse and cart for town, but he didn't expect Serena to be the one driving it. "She didn't ask me, I volunteered." Serena informed patting the chestnut horse. "It's dangerous to go off alone, who knows what might happen to you." he discouraged. "It's the middle of the afternoon, I doubt any highway man is brave enough to accost somebody in broad daylight." she reasoned. "Highway men are getting braver now a days and you are a woman." he pointed out. "Please let me go, I'll be careful, I promise. I just wanted to go out now, it's so stuffy inside the house and I'm bored." she argued prettily, not mentioning the fact that she was also terribly hungry. "If I cannot dissuade you, so be it. But wait here, I want to give you something first." he said before running inside the house. Serena hopped on the passenger seat and held the reigns while waiting for Jean Luc's return. She glanced at the list and sighed, wondering if the cart will be able to move with all the supplies she needed to buy. "Hello, there missy." an old man's voice called out. "Mr. Simms, how are you?" she asked smiling at the white haired gardener, as always his clothes are all covered with dirt. "Very busy, the weeds are growing faster than I could pull them. The master is coming tonight and I expect that he would be wanting to inspect his garden." Simms replied wiping the sweat from his brow. "Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow rooted; suffer them now and they'll o'er grow the garden." she quoted remembering one of Shakespeare's works. "Pardon?" Simms asked unsure of what the girl meant, there are times like these when he wondered about the new girl, she is always remembering what somebody named Shakespeare or Plato said. "Nothing," she answered, then changing the subject she said, "You're always busy even if his Grace is not coming home. Why I hardly see you at all." she complained, she was very fond of the soft spoken gardener and she hoped that they could have sometime to talk, and maybe persuade him to let her take a peek at the forbidden garden. "That is because I am avoiding your pestering. Do not deny it, little miss, you want to gain entrance to the Duke's private garden." he guessed correctly. "There's no harm in going, besides what's so different with his garden from all the other gardens around the mansion." she said petulantly. "That is for me to know and you to find out." he answered tweaking her nose like a little girl that he always thought of her. Serena pouted as Simms went off to the garden all the while laughing at her. When Jean Luc returned, he handed her a small pistol and a brown cloak. At her questioning expression he explained. "For your protection. It's a man's cloak, wear it so people would assume that your a man, and about the pistol, now I know you girls feel queasy about them but there's nothing to be afraid of, it's very easy to use. Here, I'll show you." he rambled, taking the pistol he handed to her and demonstrated how to hold the weapon properly. Serena opened her mouth to tell the older man that she already knew how to use a pistol. "It's really sweet of you, but it's really not necessary, you see---" she began but Jean Luc wasn't listening, very intent upon 'teaching' her how to use the weapon. "Now, this is what you should do. Wrap your forefinger around the little hook, that's what we call a trigger. Then, you apply enough force to yank it all the way..." he demonstrated slowly, looking at Serena who was watching in an expression which can only be described as confusion for a female like her. In truth, Serena was not confused, she was frustrated. 'Are all men like this,' she thought, 'they don't listen to you and they seem to have a maggot in their brains that women cannot understand a simple thing as pulling a trigger.' "Now, I'm going to load bullets inside the barrel, that's the round thing protruding at the side of the gun. Be careful, okay. A gun is not a toy, it's for your own protection." he lectured, feeling proud of himself for doing his part in looking out for her well being. "Thank you, Jean Luc. Now I'd best be going, Mrs. Neal's going crazy inside." she said hurriedly taking the gun from him before he decided to repeat his instructions in case she didn't get it the first time. It was amazing what trees and an open road can do to one's spirit. She felt as if this was the first time she breathed fresh air in all her months of staying inside the mansion. The sun was high up the sky, its heat being filtered by the tall trees so all she felt was its mellow warmth, combined with the heady scent of the forest and the sound of nature. The long travel to the town was over, quicker than she anticipated. A young boy approached her as she entered town showing a spot where she can dispose her horse and cart for a few coins. First, she went to a fruit vendor and bought Lita's apples and some for herself. Munching all the way, she went in and out from stall to stall haggling with the owners, not because she was short of money but because she missed doing it. After getting the last item on her list, she noticed that the sun was about to set and the wind was picking up and dark clouds were rolling up the sky, the air decidedly colder than it had been. She hurried towards the cart and settled her purchases. Paying the boy a penny she asked, "Is there a shortcut here leading to the Duke's mansion?" she said a bit desperately. "Yes, miss, but it is mighty dangerous in this time o' day. They did say a storm is brewin'." the boy warned in his peasant brogue. "Just tell me where it is?" she persisted donning the heavy brown cloak and remembering the pistol underneath her clothes. "Turn right at the fork of 't road, it will cut 'ye strait to the forest. Follow the trail and it will lead 'ye back to the road near the big mansion." the boy informed with a slightly worried look on his face. She thanked the child and went off as fast as the cart permitted. Taking the short cut the child told her, she endured the occasional bumps that littered the road. The wind was getting stronger with tiny droplets of rain spraying at her face. The forest was dark and covered with shadows; and at the distance, she heard the beginning rumbles of thunder. "Please, no thunder. Please, no thunder." she chanted under her breath. Eighteen years of her life and still she's still afraid of thunder. "Think pleasant thoughts, think pleasant thoughts" she said over and over willing her mind to cooperate, trying to control her overactive imagination. It was raining harder now and the road was barely visible. She wished she had the foresight to bring a lantern but she wasn't counting on getting so distracted in town and the weather changing. The horse was getting jittery and she could hear sloshes of mud underneath it's hooves. The cart jumped, another much larger hole on the rode, she was still stinging from it when the cart stopped moving. The abrupt movement caused her to loose her balance and fall on the passenger side. Rubbing her arm, she took the reigns and nudged the horse forward, the cart was still not moving. She went down the cart and saw the problem. The wheel was sunk deeply in mud, going in front of the horse she tried moving the cart with a sharp tug on the horses reigns willing it forward. It was futile, the harder she tried to urge the horse forward, the deeper the cart sank. 'I would surely loose my job,' she thought, her father would be disappointed with her. She refused to give up and looked around for help. Impossible as it may seem, she saw a faint trace of light from a lantern winking back at her. Her spirits lifted up and she abandoned the horse and cart. Making her way through the wet bushes, she ignored the cold and headed for the source of light. It was a carriage, that much she could tell in the darkness of the rain. It struck her odd that the carriage was immobile, but surmised that it probably was stuck underneath the mud like her cart. She realized by its size that she was at the main road, she was about to call out when lightning struck and for a brief second she saw everything. It was a highway robbery. Two armed men were holding the coach and the passengers at gun point, luckily for her she'd gone unnoticed, probably because of the dark cloak she was wearing. Decisively, she clutched the small pistol in her hand and aimed carefully at what she thought was the leader of highway men, she pulled the trigger. She did not understand what happened next, the horses startled from the shot ran from different directions and as far as she could tell the people in front caught sight of her, two shots went out. Pain stabbed sharply at her whole being, it was as if her whole body was on fire. She could not pinpoint where it hurt the most. Her vision was swaying and then dimming all at once. She struggled to maintain consciousness, knowing that something was wrong. 'One last try,' she told herself, and opened her eyes to meet with blue eyes which were strangely familiar, they were worried and angry, she must've done something wrong. "Sorry," she mouthed out struggling for air, it was suddenly difficult to breathe. She could here voices, but she paid no attention to it, caught p with those familiar eyes, now concerned no longer angry. And then he remembered...the painting, he has the same blue eyes. Comforted, he let herself sleep. to be continued........ **************************** rinaheart@yahoo.com