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It Takes a Second Glance……….
To See Everything Clearer….
Second Look
By Negenki (aka. Kuvli)
Author’s Notes: It’s a story I wrote long time ago when probably 3 or 4 years ago, but it was the most favorable fiction I wrote. However I threw away my copies and I really regretted that because it was about 40-50 pages long of handwritten!! I thought it over and decided to submit this story as well...so I will have to tried to remember the events that happened in the story but I actually planned to adjust it since I change it from a young adults to a mature because i think if I add in the mature scene, it will enhance and make it more passionate...sheesh...am i being dirty-minded? No…I’m just growing up… Laugh…
June 5th, 2007
I finally submitted the first chapter which I decided to add new things and pulled in new conflicts for the further chapters. I also changed the age of Rosema to 22 years old so I do hope readers don’t mind. I really want reviews for this, so leaving reviews is really welcome!!
Now…the real summary…
Orphaned Rosema entrusted her life to the Richman family who saved her life when she was at the bridge of dying in the busy street of Paris. In 1871, 16 years earlier, she was abandoned on the street by her own homeless father who couldn’t even spare one cent. Now, 16 years after, Rosema worked in the wealthy Richman family as the only young maid of age 22 years old. All she planned was to do the best she can to serve the Richman. But then, who appears? The Richman’s eldest son Syd Richman returned from Boston who left Paris before Rosema arrived. What is his purpose to torture Rosema? Why did he said he hated her so much? Why did he steal her first kiss and can he possibly be stalking her down?
SECOND LOOK
By negenki (aka kuvli)
Chapter One
Family Reunion
The news of Mr. and Mrs. Richman’s eldest son, Syd and youngest son, Darold returning to Paris from Boston excited the busied maids and servants of the Richman manor.
Syd Richman and Darold Richman both left for Boston when Syd was 8 and Darold was 5 to live and be educated by their grandparents. Eventually, Darold returned every year to visit his parents that it wasn’t new to them for his return. Except, this time, he might just stay stable in Paris for awhile since his older brother is also coming back home.
“I heard someone’s also accompanying their return,” one of the maid whispered down the hall as Rosema passed by. Rosema was the youngest maid in the manor of age 22. Her hair was a long, beautiful, chestnut colored hair that always flow evenly wherever she goes. Her skin was flawless and creamy as it glow lightly.
Her maiden gown was of ivory and simple as her curved body was slightly structured through the maiden gown. She had just finished cleaning the bed chambers and was now staring out from the hall window of the second floor. Her deep ocean-green eyes blinked as the carriage driver, Mr. Akins pulled by the gate.
“Rosema!” Mrs. Abbot, the loud-mouthed and plump senior maid called down the hall. “Come down now. We’ll have to greet them with a warm welcome. Why are you wearing those filthy garments? Have not Mrs. Richman gave you fancy dresses?”
Rosema smiled and turned away from the window. “Mrs. Richman had done enough for me. I don’t know how to thanked them more than this. Shall we go down now?”
Mrs. Abott showed a disapproval facial expression at Rosema, but couldn’t resist rushing down to welcome their returns. “Oh, I haven’t seen Syd in ages!” Mrs. Abbot exclaimed, fixing her graying curly hair. “I’ve tried my best to looked as young as I was 17 years ago. Have I succeeded any?” Rosema chuckled.
She was familiar with Darold, who often called her, Big Sister. To her, Darold was still a childish lad and loves making laughters among crowds. She first met Darold during her first year in the manor. Being Darold, he wanted Rosema to play with him since there weren’t that many small children around the manor.
Darold was always smiling and joyful wherever he go. Because he had never had a sister, Darold looked up to Rosema as a sister. He once told her in a letter that he promised to marry his sweetheart, Miss Angeline McKean once he returned to Paris with Syd, so she was already expecting to see Miss Angeline McKean’s accompany in this return.
“Both Darold and Syd were the naughtiest children I’ve ever babysit,” Mrs. Abbot admitted. “When they were little, they would always sneak out into town and cause an uproar for us and their parents. Aye, those old days really made me feel youthful again.”
They awaited with the other maids and servants. “Though we’ll have to be quite cautious not to make Darold feel horrible.” Rosema nodded and turned to face the door.
Figures appeared and Mr. Krimmer rushed to open the door. “Syd always looked after me,” Rosema recalled Darold telling her at the clinic. “But not having him here and me being careless, I end up losing this left arm of mine? Don’t be sorry. It was just my fate.”
Once the door creaked open, Rosema breathe in and out before lifting her head. When she did looked up, the tall, golden-haired Darold stood before them. He was skinny and pale, but just enough to be human. As always, his purple lips stretched into a wide, cheerful smile as white teeth peeked out. His eyes glistened joyfully in deep blue among the warm welcoming.
By his right side, stood a young unfamiliar lady who Rosema suspected to be Angeline McKean. The top of her head only reached young, handsome Darold’s shoulders. Her hair were in curls of golden dandelion. Her face was neither too long nor too round to display her beauties. Her dark brown eyes shyly measured the crowd. She was indeed fashionable, wearing her light pink laced gown with floral design in the upper top and layered skirt. Her lips were rosy red from the lipstick used to overlaid her lips. Two pairs of white pearls dangled loosely from her ears.
Mr. Richman walked beside Darold. He was a middle-aged man with thick trimmed hair. Resting upon his nose, were a pair of silver-edged spectacles as he laughed happily. His mustache was dark and nicely combed. He wore a business-like coat and trouser that quickly displayed his status.
Mrs. Richman came last along with someone. She was neatly dressed with a purple gown. It was beautiful and decent enough that strutted her age. Her hair was pulled back by a silver hairpin.
But it was the young lad who walked beside her that suddenly caught Rosema’s attention. Her eyes raised in astonishment as his tall figure stepped casually with soft laughter in his thin face. Rosema stared at his face, speechless. “…..Larick…?” She quavered lowly.
“I’m Larick Chadkirk,” the young boy introduced as he crawled through the garden. “Are you a new maid in the Richman’s manor?” Rosema nodded in surprise to discovered a young boy her age hiding in the garden of the Richman. “What is your name, Miss?”
Miss? She asked herself. “I’m Rosema. Are you also a servant here?”
Larick laughed. “No, I just come here to play from time to time.”
Rosema knitted her eyebrows. “Do they know who you are?”
Larick sat himself beside Rosema. “Um, yeah. I’m the milkman’s son. My father comes here quite often. Isn’t this a beautiful place to relax?”
Rosema’s pupils traveled from one corner to the other corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was busy earlier and could not find the time to change.” Darold came into sight , holding the young Angeline’s hand in his right hand. “Rosema! You have grown over the one year since I have seen you! Oh pardon me.” He released his right hand and grabbed Rosema’s left hand for a kiss. “My greeting, Sister.” Rosema lowered herself. “ Welcome home, Darold.”
He jumped for joy. “Oh, come here, sweetheart. Rosema, I would like you to meet my beautiful lass, Angeline McKean. Angeline, this is my big sister, Rosema.” Angeline smiled warmly at Rosema and kneeled. Rosema greeted her and return a curtsey.
The Richman laughed as Angeline pointed out how beautiful Rosema was and made her go red. “Dear Angeline,” Mrs. Richman comment. “You’re such a pure one. Oh! Where is Syd? Syd! Come here this instant! Are you refusing to meet Rosema?”
The tall lad who was taller than Darold walked casually towards them. Rosema watched him as she cursed herself for mistaking him for Larick. After all, it is impossible that he would be Larick. His hair was a light cherry brown., so light that it can be mistaken for a dark blonde which he had inherited from Mr. Richman. His brown coat overlaid his white button shirt and brown trouser. His hair slightly covered his graying green eyes as his hair reached his ears.
“What is it, Mother?” Syd asked, stopping beside Mrs. Richman. “This is Rosema. Be a gentleman and greet her well,” she scolded.
Rosema’s eyes traveled wildly upon his long, cold stare. “Greeting,” he spoke coldly without a bow nor offering his hand. “Syd! Would you not bow to Rosema! How rude have you become since your last stay here?” Mrs. Richman lectured, hitting the back of his head with her fan that sent several hair pieces flying.
He rolled his eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Syd,” Rosema interrupted and curtsied. “Mr. Abbot!” he changed the subject and excused himself. Darold laughed at his older brother’s rudeness. “Don’t worry about him, Big Sister. He’s always like that.” Rosema smiled to covered her humiliation.
Although his appearance resembled Larick in many ways, she thought. I somehow felt he is a total different person with a different personality. Which he is. But I should keep my distances just by how cold he had glared me down. The though of it send chills down her back.
“We should host a welcome ceremony for our sons’ return,” Mrs. Richman suggested. “Why, of course,” Mr. Richman agreed. “And maybe an announcement as well?” He eyed Darold who returned a laugh.
“Tell me, Miss Angeline McKean,” Mrs. Richman started. “Do you planned on becoming part of the Richman family?” She blushed. Both Mr. and Mrs. Richman laughed.
“Dear Wife, you have made the poor girl blushed!” Mr. Richman boomed. “I….Actually,…It all depend if Darold’s willing to accept me.” They laughed.
“And Darold?” Mrs. Richman questioned.
He sat quietly. “I don’t know if Miss Angeline would like to spend the rest of her life with a man who only have one arm left to support himself.”
The joy of the family reunion vanished, leaving only silence. “Darold…” Angeline cried and ran out of the dining room. He sat, pitying himself and excused himself to go after Angeline.
“I told you not to make Darold mad!” Mrs. Richman whispered harshly at her husband. “Me?” he shrieked. “You’re the one who decided to ask Miss Angeline!”
“Oh-ho! How dare you blame me?” she glanced at Rosema and back at her husband. “Excuse us.” She lead her husband out as both argued heavily outside the dining room door.
Rosema was side-tracked by their argument that she did not noticed she was alone with Syd until he purposely dropped his spoon, resulting Rosema to turn her head. Her eyes ran wild again as Syd sat across from her with his cold glare.
“What shall I call you?” Syd questioned suspiciously.
“Rosema would do fine, Mr. Syd,” she replied. He gave a husky chuckle.
“I meant what shall I call someone who wormed her way into the Richman family and hold her head high as she believed she had achieved her victory.”
She gazed at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand at all.He smirked.
“Playing innocent to get your fame,” he scoffed. “Do you expect me to fall for your disguise? Most of all, what disgust me most is you still used your play-innocent to fool my parents and brother without guilt! I never though a low-status girl, who my own father picked up from the street and raised her like his own have the heart to betrayed and fooled the very man who saved your life!”
Her eyes widened in fear from his accusation. “Your wrong, Mr. Syd,” she retorted. “Don’t Mr. Syd me!” he screamed, standing up from his chair. “Your very presence disgust me! You, a worth-for-nothing, heartless fraud does not deserve to call my name!”
Rosema stared at him, who accused her of the many things she wasn’t. Her hands shook in anger, but she refused to say anything. Instead, she scoot her chair away and ran out towards her bedchamber.
Slamming her door, Rosema latched the doorknob and slumped down against it. “What have I done to anger him so much?” she wanted to ask. “What have I wrong him?” Tears streamed slowly from her innocent eyes as she hugged her trembling knees to herself and drifted to sleep.
“What’s wrong, Rosema?” Larick asked.
“Larick?” Rosema called as his face became clearer in her vision.
“Why are you crying?” He seated himself by her.
“It’s nothing,” she lied.
Larick frowned at her. “You wouldn’t cry for nothing, would you?” Rosema hesitated to speak, but only tears continued running. “Don’t cry anymore, Rosema,” Larick soothed. “Or you’ll make me sad.” She nodded her head as he pet her head with a smile.
Rosema awoke from the small sunlight, creeping through the window curtain. “Another dream, is it?” she asked lying flatly by the door. Her tears had already dried and imprint their streams on her cheeks. She stared at her unmoving open palm that lied on the floor.
Sudden stamping were heard through her door. “What time is it!” she exclaimed, jerking upward in stun at how late she had slept. She paced hurriedly across her room and finally opened the door. Just as she opened the door, Syd stopped his trace in front of her.
Her eyes widened in surprise as their eyes met. Chills crept down her backbones at the memories of Syd accusing her. She looked away. “G’morning Sir,” she greeted and excused herself, refusing to look up to his face.
He examined the closed door of her bedchamber. He smirked with excitement as he walked away, scratching the bridge of his sharp nose. He paces away and entered his bed chamber next to hers.