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Description
Author's note: Here's chapter 4~ Not my favorite chapter, I wanted it to end more dramatically, but I'll have to live with it I like Martha. She's one of those random OC characters you slip into a fic and who takes on a role on their own without meaning to. She's kind of like a motherly figure to all the maids, but she has a soft spot for Francis. And like I said in the first chapter...no idea what time period this is, but apparently now there are phones. So yeah.

****

Francis' cheek still tingled from where Arthur had kissed it the night before. He knew he was treading on thin ice now. His heart had been beating so fast and he had been worried Arthur would have heard it. "My dear, you are so flustered," Martha said that afternoon. Arthur had been gone all day, off shopping for something.

"I'm fine," Francis answered quickly.

"You're blushing." Then she gasped. "Oh goodness, are you in love?"

"Martha!" he hissed, but he didn't bother to correct her.

"Oh my dear Francine, who is it? The gardener? The horseman?" He shook his head. "Well then who is it, dear girl? I mean I've named off every man I know except the master-" Francis looked away, embarrassed, and Martha understood immediately. "Oh Francine," she whispered. She stroked Francis' hair. "You haven't told him, I hope."

"Of course not," Francis muttered. "I want to keep my job."

"You poor dear. I've seen plenty young girls like you fall for their masters and it never ends well. Promise me you'll be careful."

Francis wanted to point out that he was different from all those girls because he was a man, but he held his tongue and nodded.

When Arthur returned home, he didn't look like he'd just been shopping for the better part of the morning. He carried no bags with him either. "Did you find what you were looking for, sir?" he asked.

Arthur glanced at him with a shy expression suddenly. "I…I think so, yes."

Francis stared after him in confusion. And then the phone rang and he rushed to answer it. "Yes, Lord Kirkland's house?" he said.

"Is there a Miss Francine Bonnefoy there?" a deep voice answered.

"Y-Yes. I am Francine. Who is this?"

"I'm Dr. Sutherland, I was the caring physician for your mother. I'm afraid she's just passed away."

Francis let the news sink in for a few moments. He realized he should feel sad but after everything his mother had put him through, he honestly could not bring himself to care. "I see," he said finally. "Thank you for telling me."

"Don't you want to see her?"

"No. Just cremate her and be done with it." He hung up quickly, feeling a sudden heavy weight lift off his shoulders. He had no reason to continue working for Arthur now. But he found that he still wanted to. Arthur had been in his life since he was a young child. Just packing up and leaving without saying anything didn't feel right.

"Who was that, dear?" Martha asked.

"My mother's doctor," Francis replied. "He said she's passed away."

"Oh I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be."

Martha blinked in confusion. "Francine?"

Francis sighed as he walked up the stairs towards Arthur's bedroom. Just as he entered, he could have sworn Arthur hid something under his pillow. And he was blushing furiously. "Monsieur?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not, everything is fine," the Brit said curtly.

"Excuse me while I don't believe that."

"I don't pay you to believe what I do and not say, Francine."

Francis bit his lip and nodded. "Forgive me, sir. I was just coming to see if you were planning on staying for dinner tonight."

"I don't think so," he said, and Francis frowned deeply. "It's not you, Francine. I just…I want to see Gilbert and Søren. I need to talk to them about something."

"Very well. I won't wait up for you, sir." Francis left the room, suddenly fearing that Arthur was starting to dislike having him around. Perhaps it was time he finally left.

***

"You what?"

"I bought a ring for her," Arthur said, smiling cheekily.

"Do you think she'll even accept it?" Gilbert asked as he stared at the ring in the box.

"Of course she will. What woman wouldn't?"

"You're forgetting something, Artie. She's your maid. What makes you think she even likes you like that?"

"Well…she must. How on earth could she stand taking care of me for so long?"

"So you admit you're a horrible person?" Søren sneered.

"Oh shut up. She's going to love it," Arthur mumbled as he stared at the ring.

"You really love her, don't you?"

His face turned pink. "I-I guess I do, don't I?"

***

Francis was packing his things, hoping to leave the mansion before Arthur even returned home. He was just lifting his suitcase when he heard the front door open. He cursed under his breath.

"Francine?" Arthur was calling for him. It was now or never. He stepped out from the servants' quarters towards the other man. "Ah, there you are," Arthur said happily. "T-There's something I want to tell you."

"There's something I've wanted to tell you as well," Francis said softly.

"Oh? Well you can go first then."

Francis looked down at his feet before he lifted his head up. It was now or never. "I…I am a man."

"Great! And I'm in love with y-Wait. What did you just say?" Arthur's green eyes were wide in absolute shock.

Francis swallowed hard. "My name is really Francis-"

"W-What are you saying? You must be joking. F-Francine?"

"My mother forced me to take a job as your maid when I was younger because I was pretty like a girl," he explained, telling himself the horrified look on Arthur's face wasn't painful to look at. "She told me I was to go by the name 'Francine' and to never tell anyone my secret. But she is dead now and I no longer need to pay for her debts or her bills."

"Y-You've lied to me…all this time? All these years?" He clenched his hands into fists. "How dare you!" Francis winced. "You are not my Francine!"

Francis felt his own heart breaking just a little. "I am sorry, mon ami."

"Don't…Don't use your French words in my presence. Just…Just get out. Leave! I never want to see your face again, do you hear me?!" Francis saw the tears falling down Arthur's face but chose to ignore them. He steeled himself and reached for his suitcase.

"You're in luck," he mumbled. "I was already planning to leave."

That seemed to shatter the other man completely. "W-Well good riddance! Get out of my house, you filthy French liar! OUT!" he roared. Francis wasted no time, running until he was out and down the street, not daring to look back and not bothering to hide the tears that were falling down his cheeks.

Arthur slammed the door shut, glaring at the other maids that were watching from their rooms. "What are you all looking at?!" he shouted. He ran towards his room and reached for the tiny box in his coat pocket. He stared at it a few moments before letting out a horrible cry and throwing it out the window. He curled up on his bed, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. A man…she was a man all this time? And she never…really cared about me. Not once. She just wanted the money. A fool. I'm a fool for falling for her…his charms. He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his sobs. "Francine," he whispered. "I loved you so much…"

Description
Author's note: Here's chapter 4~ Not my favorite chapter, I wanted it to end more dramatically, but I'll have to live with it I like Martha. She's one of those random OC characters you slip into a fic and who takes on a role on their own without meaning to. She's kind of like a motherly figure to all the maids, but she has a soft spot for Francis. And like I said in the first chapter...no idea what time period this is, but apparently now there are phones. So yeah.

****

Francis' cheek still tingled from where Arthur had kissed it the night before. He knew he was treading on thin ice now. His heart had been beating so fast and he had been worried Arthur would have heard it. "My dear, you are so flustered," Martha said that afternoon. Arthur had been gone all day, off shopping for something.

"I'm fine," Francis answered quickly.

"You're blushing." Then she gasped. "Oh goodness, are you in love?"

"Martha!" he hissed, but he didn't bother to correct her.

"Oh my dear Francine, who is it? The gardener? The horseman?" He shook his head. "Well then who is it, dear girl? I mean I've named off every man I know except the master-" Francis looked away, embarrassed, and Martha understood immediately. "Oh Francine," she whispered. She stroked Francis' hair. "You haven't told him, I hope."

"Of course not," Francis muttered. "I want to keep my job."

"You poor dear. I've seen plenty young girls like you fall for their masters and it never ends well. Promise me you'll be careful."

Francis wanted to point out that he was different from all those girls because he was a man, but he held his tongue and nodded.

When Arthur returned home, he didn't look like he'd just been shopping for the better part of the morning. He carried no bags with him either. "Did you find what you were looking for, sir?" he asked.

Arthur glanced at him with a shy expression suddenly. "I…I think so, yes."

Francis stared after him in confusion. And then the phone rang and he rushed to answer it. "Yes, Lord Kirkland's house?" he said.

"Is there a Miss Francine Bonnefoy there?" a deep voice answered.

"Y-Yes. I am Francine. Who is this?"

"I'm Dr. Sutherland, I was the caring physician for your mother. I'm afraid she's just passed away."

Francis let the news sink in for a few moments. He realized he should feel sad but after everything his mother had put him through, he honestly could not bring himself to care. "I see," he said finally. "Thank you for telling me."

"Don't you want to see her?"

"No. Just cremate her and be done with it." He hung up quickly, feeling a sudden heavy weight lift off his shoulders. He had no reason to continue working for Arthur now. But he found that he still wanted to. Arthur had been in his life since he was a young child. Just packing up and leaving without saying anything didn't feel right.

"Who was that, dear?" Martha asked.

"My mother's doctor," Francis replied. "He said she's passed away."

"Oh I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be."

Martha blinked in confusion. "Francine?"

Francis sighed as he walked up the stairs towards Arthur's bedroom. Just as he entered, he could have sworn Arthur hid something under his pillow. And he was blushing furiously. "Monsieur?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not, everything is fine," the Brit said curtly.

"Excuse me while I don't believe that."

"I don't pay you to believe what I do and not say, Francine."

Francis bit his lip and nodded. "Forgive me, sir. I was just coming to see if you were planning on staying for dinner tonight."

"I don't think so," he said, and Francis frowned deeply. "It's not you, Francine. I just…I want to see Gilbert and Søren. I need to talk to them about something."

"Very well. I won't wait up for you, sir." Francis left the room, suddenly fearing that Arthur was starting to dislike having him around. Perhaps it was time he finally left.

***

"You what?"

"I bought a ring for her," Arthur said, smiling cheekily.

"Do you think she'll even accept it?" Gilbert asked as he stared at the ring in the box.

"Of course she will. What woman wouldn't?"

"You're forgetting something, Artie. She's your maid. What makes you think she even likes you like that?"

"Well…she must. How on earth could she stand taking care of me for so long?"

"So you admit you're a horrible person?" Søren sneered.

"Oh shut up. She's going to love it," Arthur mumbled as he stared at the ring.

"You really love her, don't you?"

His face turned pink. "I-I guess I do, don't I?"

***

Francis was packing his things, hoping to leave the mansion before Arthur even returned home. He was just lifting his suitcase when he heard the front door open. He cursed under his breath.

"Francine?" Arthur was calling for him. It was now or never. He stepped out from the servants' quarters towards the other man. "Ah, there you are," Arthur said happily. "T-There's something I want to tell you."

"There's something I've wanted to tell you as well," Francis said softly.

"Oh? Well you can go first then."

Francis looked down at his feet before he lifted his head up. It was now or never. "I…I am a man."

"Great! And I'm in love with y-Wait. What did you just say?" Arthur's green eyes were wide in absolute shock.

Francis swallowed hard. "My name is really Francis-"

"W-What are you saying? You must be joking. F-Francine?"

"My mother forced me to take a job as your maid when I was younger because I was pretty like a girl," he explained, telling himself the horrified look on Arthur's face wasn't painful to look at. "She told me I was to go by the name 'Francine' and to never tell anyone my secret. But she is dead now and I no longer need to pay for her debts or her bills."

"Y-You've lied to me…all this time? All these years?" He clenched his hands into fists. "How dare you!" Francis winced. "You are not my Francine!"

Francis felt his own heart breaking just a little. "I am sorry, mon ami."

"Don't…Don't use your French words in my presence. Just…Just get out. Leave! I never want to see your face again, do you hear me?!" Francis saw the tears falling down Arthur's face but chose to ignore them. He steeled himself and reached for his suitcase.

"You're in luck," he mumbled. "I was already planning to leave."

That seemed to shatter the other man completely. "W-Well good riddance! Get out of my house, you filthy French liar! OUT!" he roared. Francis wasted no time, running until he was out and down the street, not daring to look back and not bothering to hide the tears that were falling down his cheeks.

Arthur slammed the door shut, glaring at the other maids that were watching from their rooms. "What are you all looking at?!" he shouted. He ran towards his room and reached for the tiny box in his coat pocket. He stared at it a few moments before letting out a horrible cry and throwing it out the window. He curled up on his bed, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. A man…she was a man all this time? And she never…really cared about me. Not once. She just wanted the money. A fool. I'm a fool for falling for her…his charms. He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his sobs. "Francine," he whispered. "I loved you so much…"