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:
The room was in every detail spectacular. It was almost twice as big as Xander's former room and the window and ornate fireplace correspondingly larger. His old room was decorated in black and gold, this gold and red all flocked wallpaper, heavy brocades and velvet. Gold, velvet curtains hung at the windows and whereas his four poster bed had been without drapes, this was draped in heavy, gold brocade with a matching cover on the bed. The thick carpet was not unlike the one in his former room, but there was a shaggy bearskin rug set at the bedside along with not one but two bedside cabinets one at each side, with heavy, ornate lamps on them and drawers beneath. The writing desk was replaced by a bureau of intricately carved, rich, red, cherry wood with a fold down front and matching chair. A large ottoman was placed at the foot of the bed, again cherry wood but with a padded, brocade upholstered lid, so it could comfortably be sat on. The long, low dressing table was fully mirrored and richly carved, it had a long central drawer and three more at each side and it's own upholstered stool. There was a large wardrobe set with rails, shelves and drawers and a free standing, full length, ornate, brass, framed mirror. There was a five chest of drawers and along one wall a vanity unit with a removable porcelain bowl set into it, a large matching water jug, a rail at one side for a towel, drawers down one side for keeping toiletries and a mirror above. There was an elegant, brocade covered chaise and a high backed and winged, leather chair in rich tan as in Mr Rochester's rooms. Off to one corner and half hidden by a modesty screen was a porcelain hip bath with a dark blue exterior and white interior and stood upon four. gilded, lion feet and a thick sheepskin rug at the side. There were several small round and square tables, many with lamps and along one wall a set of book shelves And set into the window nook a comfortable window seat.
It was a room undreamt of even by Thornfield standards and it took Xander's breath away.
He was so enraptured he was unaware of Rochester coming to stand near him, he lent lightly on his cane and watched as the kaleidoscope of delight flickered across Xander's face with a wry smile. After a few moments he spoke quietly. "It is your room Xander step inside." Xander jumped and gazed at him with shining eyes. "Sir, I cannot take it, it is a room designed and furnished for a gentleman, not the likes of me."
Rochester frowned. "Tosh man!" He remonstrated. "In every particular you seem to me a gentleman, so I will not let you refuse the room on that account. Unless the room displeases you and in that case I want to know the particulars, you will oblige me by stepping in instead of keeping us standing here in the hallway."
Xander stepped into the room and Rochester followed him. Xander looked about the room as Rochester crossed to the window seat. "You said you liked the view from your room?" Xander nodded. "This view is almost the same, larger of course and there is a slight angle so you can view the lake better and glimpse the North Tower of the house. Come look." Rochester urged. Xander crossed to the window seat and Rochester already seated, caught him round the waist and pulled him to sit in front of him, without thought or hesitation Xander complied. He looked at the view. "It is breathtaking."
"Yes it is." Rochester still had his arm lightly around his waist and he was looking at Xander not the view. Xander turned his head and looked into the most beautiful pale, blue eyes he thought he had ever seen, his breath caught and he ducked his head. Rochester chuckled quietly and regretfully let his arm slip loose as Xander stood and looked about.
"So you like it?" Rochester asked.
"It is a beautiful room, Sir I............"
"We are alone Xander, remember your promise?" Rochester reminded him.
Xander nodded "William, this is a wonderful room," he looked around. "surely it ought to be Mrs Summers as she stands in the stead of a Mistress of the house?" William laughed and stood. "That good woman would never take it." He sighed. "It was my mother's room."
Xander looked at him sharply. "I cannot take your mother's room," he protested.
William raised his hand. "She died before I was a year old, I do not remember her and have no wish to keep the room as some sort of shrine to her memory. As it is, it sees service as an occasional guest room and as you have observed such a handsome room deserves a permanent occupant. I would see it in use and I would have you be the one to occupy it," he paused a moment, "will you humor me and take it?"
Xander looked about, this was an unexpected and great honor and bore testimony to Mr Rochester's great kindness, to refuse was unthinkable. "I will be honored to take it." Rochester smiled. "It is settled then, now hurry next door and collect your personal items before Mrs Summers arrives to chide us."
After several moments Xander returned with his few personal belongings in his hands. A brush and comb, cut throat razor, shaving brush, a recently purchased pocket watch, toiletries, pens, writing paper, an old, battered wooden box of water color paints and few precious brushes, pencils and tucked under his arm a portfolio of his paintings. Rochester noted the meager belongings and schooled his face to remain impassive as he watched Xander put them carefully away their appointed places. "Is that your portfolio of art?"
Xander looked up. "Yes, it is."
William nodded. "I would view it sometime later, if I may?" Xander felt a frisson of pleasure. "Yes of course."
Rochester stood. "Here," he handed Xander two books. "I said I would lend them to you." Xander looked at the titles 'The Life of Lord Byron' and 'The complete Writings of Noel, 6th Baron Byron of Rochdale'. Xander looked up and smiled. "Thank you, I will return them when I've read them."
Rochester nodded. "Take your time, there is no hurry," he gave a small smile. "and when you have read a little perhaps we shall discuss his merits, or lack thereof?"
"Of course, I shall look forward to it." Xander returned the smile. Xander looked about and to the left of his bed he noticed for the first time a door with a heavy, brass key in the lock. He studied it and William followed his gaze and curled his tongue behind his teeth and stifled a chuckle as Xander frowned and cocked his head. "Where does the door lead?" Xander questioned.
"Why Xander, this was my mother's room, I have The Master's rooms," he gave a slight, amused pause, "it leads directly into my bedchamber, where else?"