Warnings: Set in 1850s, HAU/Historical Romance, M/M sex, angst, a little humor, OOC, varying chapter lengths. Vague, brief references to: underage sex (consensual), het sex, BDSM (mild), Sub/Dom, prostitution. Original characters.
Pairing: 100% S/X (With brief, vague mentions of heterosexual/homosexual relationships with others .)
Ubeta'd All freerange boo, boos are mine and should be left unmolested
Status COMPLETED. Posted daily.
Link to previous chapters HERE
Comments: Comment if you want to, though it would be nice to know someone is reading it and will encourage a sequel.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to someone who is not me. I write for fun not profit.
Additional Warning:This is a LONG, SLOW moving fic. Feelings/relationships develop gradually. Sexual situations happen throughout. I have tried to be historically accurate but I do not profess to be a historian, I have knowingly messed with some dates. At this time Homosexuality carried the Death Penalty, here it is viewed as a mere eccentricity.
Note 1: Although Sunnydale character names have been used they are NOT in their Sunnydale persona's. William Rochester= A version of Spike NOT human William as in BTVS.
Note 2: My heartfelt thanks go out to my dear friend Bmblbee, for pre-reading the story and her encouragement. *Hugs*
Summary: Alexander Harris is orphaned at the age of six. He is sent to live with his wealthy but uncaring aunt Anya Jenkins in Gateshead and his three cruel cousins. Aged eight he is sent away to Lowood School For Boys and endures life there for ten miserable years, eight as a student and two as an assistant teacher. At last aged eighteen he is free to leave and secures employment at Thornfield as Tutor to the bright, temperamental and eccentric Drusilla and meets The Master of Thornfield, the handsome, aloof, passionate, possibly dangerous and mysterious William Rochester.
Rating: NC17 Overall
Rating: NC17 Overall
Love, Love changes everything:
When Mrs Summers departed, Xander sat on the end of the bed. He was quite shocked to find that good lady was not his employer but a gentleman with whom he had, had not one line of correspondence, had not met and indeed might not meet until Christmas, some months hence. Suppose when they did meet the gentleman found him lacking in some particular? His work unsuitable, or plain just did not care for him? Would his employment be terminated? Would he find himself without employment or home? It was all rather worrisome and perhaps Wes and Fred were right in counseling caution after all. On the other hand this Mr Rochester had charged Mrs Summers with finding a teacher for the child and must thereby set store and faith in her judgement and if she deemed him to be a satisfactory choice, why then might not Mr Rochester also?
The more Alex thought about it, the more aware of how tired and bone weary he was as a result of his journey came over him and so he resolved at last to put it from his mind. He would simply do his best to make himself as agreeable as he could, work hard and diligently and when the time came for them to meet, Mr Rochester would have no cause for complaint. The future would happen if he worried about it or not, so he decided not and taking his nightshirt from his bag prepared for bed and within the half hour was sound asleep.
Alex was up, washed, shaved and dressed by the time there came a gentle rap at his door, promptly at seven O'clock. A female voice proclaimed herself to be Willow and sent by the Missus to fetch him to breakfast. He opened the door to a pretty red head in a plain green dress, white mop cap and apron. She smiled. "You follow me Sir, I takes you to the small dining room." She led the way along the hallway and down the sweeping staircase. "I be Daniel's missus," she chatted amiably, "you met 'im last night, I does a bit o' general work and the everyday cooking, we has other ladies comes from the village to clean and such. The washer woman now she comes Monday and Thursday, you gives your dirty laundry to me or puts it in the dirty laundry basket and I'll see as she gets it." Alex nodded. "The seamstress, well she comes once a week an' does the mending and fixing, so you have anything you want doing by way of mending or altering you just give it me and I'll see it done."
"Thank you Mrs Osbourne, I'll do that." Alex assured her. Willow turned laughing. "No Sir, you calls me Willow, not Mrs Osbourne." Alex smiled. "Thank you Willow." She nodded and then led him passed several rooms and ushered him into a small dining room. Mrs Summers was already seated and eating, she looked up. "Ah, good morning Mr Harris, did you sleep well?" Alex nodded. "Thank you Ma'am yes."
"Good, do sit down and have something to eat." Alex took a seat at the elegant table. "We are alone this morning," she continued. "normally nanny and Drusilla would be with us, but I asked them to eat in the nursery so that I might speak to you about Drusilla. " Alex looked up.
"As I intimated last night Miss Drusilla is Mr Rochester's Ward, I am not privy to the relationship between The Master and her mother," she shrugged, "beyond that they were old acquaintances. Unfortunately her mother passed away when she was some eighteen months old, prior to that it had been legally arranged that Mr Rochester be the child's Guardian. " She paused to wipe her mouth with a dainty napkin. "Mr Rochester engaged the services of Miss Mclay in London, retrieved the child and she and the child were brought to Thornfield, where they have remained ever since." Alex nodded, listening as he ate.
She drew a deep breath. "Drusilla is a dear but rather," she paused as if searching for the right word, "troubled child in many ways, she is inclined to be somewhat difficult and wilful at times. You are not the first person I have engaged to educate her, the other two were Governesses and found her to be beyond their management, a situation made worse by her disliking them and making her feelings known." Alex's mouth twitched. "She seems bright enough," Mrs Summers continued, "indeed learns quickly when it is something she likes, when it is not," she shrugged.
"I think that is common to all of us, to some degree Mrs Summers." Alex smiled.
"I dare say that's true," she nodded. "She has grown up without much by the way of the company of other children and perhaps that is partly the cause, but she has created for herself a fantasy world in which her dolls talk to her and tell her things, she has imaginary companions, sees fairies, she talks to the stars and flowers, beasts and birds and they reply. Sometimes I regret when she is in such a mood there is nothing to be done with her. And on those occasions when The Master is in residence it irritates him somewhat."
Alex brow furrowed. "Many children have imaginary worlds and friends and believe dolls and animals talk to them and as you say her lack of companions of her own age might explain part of it."
"The last Governess suggested strongly that she should be sent away to school, but thankfully The Master would not hear of it and I admit I would hate to see her go. She is devoted to myself, nanny, Willow and Daniel and can be quite the sweetest creature. She is absolutely besotted by her Guardian and I have to confess that his frequent comings and goings do not sit well with her. I thought that a Tutor might be just the thing. A permanent, male figure for her to look up to and as an authority figure."
Alex smiled. "I'm not so sure about authority figure, that should really be her Guardian."
Mrs Summers sighed. "It is not that Mr Rochester does not have great affection for the child, but he is a gentleman, has nothing to do with children in the general way of things and finds it hard to know what to do with her. After a time her constant prattle and demands for attention, tales and fantasies weigh heavily on him and he is not the most patient of gentlemen."
Alex nodded, it sounded rather familiar. "I think I will learn more when I meet her."
Mrs Summers looked relived. "You do not mind that your pupil is a little girl?"
"Indeed not," he chuckled. "I only regret that I cannot teach her needlepoint and so forth."
Mrs Summers laughed. "Do not worry Mr Harris, nanny and I are already instructing her."
There came the sound of quick, running feet and distant, desperate shouts. "Drusilla! Miss Drusilla don't you dare!" A door slammed and the feet moved to the stair, quick and urgent, then abruptly the dining room door was flung open and a diminutive whirlwind entered all pink silk, white lace, red ribbons and black hair, clutching a doll.
Drusilla had arrived.