Chapter 2: A Glance That Lingers

Jane moved swiftly down the servant's staircase, her heart hammering in her chest. The broken pieces of the vase cut into her palm, but she barely noticed. What troubled her more was Jack Lawrence's voice still echoing in her mind.

What's your name?

She had been in service long enough to know that people like Jack Lawrence did not concern themselves with the names of maids. They issued orders, dismissed, and forgot. But he had looked at her—not through her, not past her, but at her. And that made her uneasy.

Reaching the kitchen, Jane emptied the shards into a bin and ran her hand under the water pump. A thin trickle of blood swirled down the basin.

Susan, who had been rolling out pastry dough, frowned when she noticed. "What happened?"

"I dropped a vase," Jane murmured.

Susan huffed. "You're lucky Lady Margaret didn't dismiss you on the spot."

Jane nodded, knowing how true that was. Lady Margaret had a cold, calculating gaze that could strip the courage from even the bravest soul.

"Take this," Susan said, handing her a clean rag. "And be careful. You can't afford to get hurt."

Jane wrapped her palm and took a deep breath. She had work to do, and she couldn't let one misstep—or one glance from Jack Lawrence—distract her.

---

Upstairs, in Jack's chambers...

Jack stood by the window, his gaze lingering on the gardens below. He should have long forgotten the incident in the drawing room, but his mind kept returning to it.

To her.

Jane.

She had been different from the other servants—there had been something in her eyes, a quiet resilience, a strength he wasn't used to seeing in people who worked in his home. Most maids avoided his gaze, bowed their heads, and blended into the background.

But Jane had looked at him.

"Thinking about something, Jack?"

Jack turned to find his best friend, William Carter, leaning against the doorway with a knowing smirk.

Jack sighed. "It's nothing."

William stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were troubled."

Jack ran a hand through his hair. "My mother is determined to see me married."

"Ah, yes," William said with amusement. "And let me guess—Olivia?"

Jack scowled. "As if there's any other candidate in her mind."

William chuckled. "She does have a way of clinging to you."

Jack crossed his arms. "She's not the one I'm thinking about."

William raised an eyebrow. "Then who?"

Jack hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shook his head. "No one important."

But as he spoke the words, he knew they were a lie.

---

That evening, in the servants' quarters...

The small wooden table in the dimly lit room wobbled slightly as Jane carefully darned one of her father's shirts. The fabric was thin and frayed, but she couldn't afford to replace it.

Her father, Charles, sat across from her, his frail hands wrapped around a cup of weak tea. His face, once strong and proud, was now pale and lined with years of hardship.

"You're quiet tonight, Jane," he observed.

She forced a small smile. "Just tired, Papa."

He reached out, placing a hand over hers. "You work too hard."

"It's the only way," she whispered.

Her father sighed, his expression filled with regret. "If only I could—"

"Don't," Jane said gently, squeezing his hand. "You've done more for me than I could ever repay."

Before he could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. Jane frowned and stood to answer it.

To her surprise, it was one of the younger maids, Anna, breathless from running. "Jane—you're needed upstairs."

Jane's heart clenched. "Now? Why?"

Anna hesitated. "Mr. Jack Lawrence asked for you."

Jane felt the blood drain from her face.

Her father looked at her with concern. "Jane…?"

She swallowed hard. "I—I have to go."

---

In the grand hallway...

The mansion was dimly lit as Jane followed Anna through the winding hallways. The polished marble floors echoed with the distant sounds of laughter and music from the guests still lingering in the drawing room.

Jane's thoughts raced.

Why would Jack Lawrence ask for her? Had she done something wrong? Would he tell Lady Margaret about the broken vase?

Her steps slowed as they reached the grand staircase leading to Jack's chambers. Anna gave her a sympathetic look. "Good luck," she whispered before slipping away.

Jane's trembling hand knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," came the deep voice from within.

Taking a deep breath, Jane pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the fireplace. Jack stood by the window, the golden light casting shadows across his sharp features. He turned when she entered, his eyes softening as they met hers.

"Jane," he said, her name sounding foreign on his lips.

Jane lowered her gaze, her hands clasped in front of her. "You sent for me, sir?"

Jack hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "I wanted to... apologize for earlier. For startling you."

Jane blinked in surprise. Apologies were not something she expected from a Lawrence.

"I... It was my fault the vase broke," Jack admitted. "I should have been more careful."

Jane's eyes widened. "I—It was my responsibility, sir. I should have been more mindful."

Jack studied her in silence, and for a moment, neither spoke. The tension between them was palpable, thick with unspoken words and unfamiliar emotions.

"I've seen you before," Jack said suddenly. "In the gardens. You care for the roses, don't you?"

Jane's breath hitched. "Yes, sir."

"You have a gentle hand," Jack said, almost to himself. "The roses seem to thrive under your care."

Jane's cheeks warmed. No one had ever noticed her work, let alone praised it.

"I... I should return to my duties," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack stepped aside, allowing her to pass. But as she reached the door, his voice stopped her.

"Jane."

She turned, her heart pounding.

"I... would like to see you again," Jack said quietly. "Not as a maid. But as... yourself."

Jane's eyes widened in shock. This was dangerous. If Lady Margaret or Olivia found out...

"I—I can't, sir," she stammered. "It wouldn't be proper."

Jack's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I understand."

As Jane fled the room, her pulse raced with fear—and something far more dangerous.

Hope.

---

In the shadows of the hallway...

Unbeknownst to either of them, Olivia stood hidden behind a heavy curtain, her eyes burning with jealousy and rage.

"So... it's her," she murmured darkly.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile.

"If Jack Lawrence thinks he can fall for a common maid... I'll make sure she regrets ever crossing my path."

---

With every step Jane took back to the servants' quarters, she felt her heart sinking deeper into a world she had no place in.

Yet, Jack Lawrence's words lingered in her mind.

I would like to see you again.

And against her better judgment, a part of her longed to see him too.