Only three people had heard of a girl named Sydney, but when asked to describe her, they all responded that her hair was very auburn and she was very short. This wasn’t the Sydney Michael knew; not even close. Dejected, he gave up on asking around, but he didn’t give up on finding her. He was convinced that she would show up at another party; she just had to. And if she didn’t, he was seriously contemplating going to every house in London until he found her.
When he told Eric of his plans, Eric laughed at him. “You’re being absurd. Why would you do that?”
Michael shrugged. “I want to see her.”
“For what purpose?” Eric asked.
“You have a wife; you should know,” Michael said shortly.
“Wife?” Eric laughed. “You want to marry her after... what? A twenty minute conversation?”
“I never said that. I simply meant I want at chance to get to know her better,” Michael explained.
“Oh, well, yes...,” Eric sighed. Then he patted Michael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Michael, but maybe she’ll show up again.”
That was great ... aww poor Syd thinks shes never going to see him again ... yeah Michael is looking for her .... thanks for the PM ... more soon please
This is an Alias - Cinderella story :lol:
I really hope he will find Sydney but I don't want him to find out who she really is yet, because I'm afraid of the reaction he could have
Chapter 6
For another few weeks, every time Sydney’s thoughts drifted off, she thought about Michael and she hated herself for it. She was only causing herself more pain by thinking about him that way. There was no way she could have him, not even the slightest bit of chance, so why couldn’t she force herself to stop? She had no idea.
The last week in July, it was the Cole’s turn to host a party and for the week prior, their house was constantly full of activity. Mr. Cole had returned home to host the party, along with his wife and daughters, and everything had to be in perfect condition. Sydney had been so busy preparing, she had completely forgotten about the possibility of Michael attending the party until she saw him.
She had glanced out the kitchen door when one of the maids returned with an empty food tray and saw him only a few feet away. Her heart leapt into her throat immediately upon hearing him speaking French. Suddenly and irrationally, she bolted for the dress she had stashed. She was about to strip off her rags and change when she realized how foolish she was being.
Sneaking off to the Blair house was one thing, but pretending in the Cole’s house? That was insane. Her chances of getting caught were ridiculously high, not to mention the fact that she looked an absolute mess. Slowly, she walked back over to the kitchen door and peered out. Michael was talking to Annabelle and she was practically frothing over him. Something snapped within Sydney and she walked over to the wash basin in the kitchen with new determination, ready to make her entrance into the social world once more.
It was nearly half an hour before Sydney was fully ready. She didn’t look as well put together as before, but she was hoping to only be inside the party for a short time. Wishfully, she thought that maybe she and Michael could go out to the gardens like before. Her mission was simple: get his attention and make him follow her outside where she had less of a chance of being caught.
She was thankful that when she spotted him, he was no longer talking to Annabelle. Quickly, she looked for the Cole family members and anyone else who could recognize her. Luckily, they were all in rooms other than the one Michael was standing in. Subtly, Sydney walked past Michael and noticed out of the corner of her eye, he did a double take and quickly excused himself from the man he had been speaking with. “Sydney, I.... you came,” he sighed, almost sounding relieved.
She smiled softly at him. “Yes... were you looking for me, Mr. - oh, I’m sorry, I never received your last name.”
“Vaughn. It’s Vaughn,” he told her. “And yes, I was looking for you, Sydney.”
Sydney’s heart froze in her chest. This was Mr. Vaughn, the Mr. Vaughn that the Cole sisters spoke of constantly. The same Mr. Vaughn that was their neighbor. And she... she was the woman who Mr. Vaughn had spent the Blair party with. The woman Annabelle was insanely jealous of. How could that even be possible?
“Would you like to go for a walk, Sydney?” Michael offered with a grin as he extended his hand. His words jolted her from her thoughts and she smiled at him before taking his arm.
“So Sydney, where did you disappear to?” he asked her once they had reached the garden.
“I told you. I was taking care of my grandmother,” she said simply.
“Ah yes, I remember now. So, who is your grandmother?” he asked.
She smiled. “She’s my grandmother.”
Michael burst out laughing. “You are a secretive one, Miss Sydney.”
“Well, I’m sorry you wasted your time searching for me, Mr. Vaughn,” she told him.
He shook his head. “It was not a waste. I found you, didn’t I?”
“I believe it was I who spotted you in there,” she told him with a smile.
“But I spotted you as well.” He smiled.
“I see... so tell me, Mr. Vaughn, what is your profession?” Sydney asked as she circled him.
“Please, call me Michael, and I am a banker,” he told her.
“Sounds fascinating,” she said with a hint of amusement.
“Well, my father was a banker, so I became a banker.”
“But not in France?”
“No, not in France. I wanted a change of pace. Please quit that! You are making me dizzy!” he laughed as he tried to spin around and follow her circling.
“Sorry,” she said quietly when she stopped walking. “Am I asking too many questions?”
“No, you’re asking just the right amount as long as I can ask some of my own,” he smiled.
“You may,” she told him.
“How old are you? And yes, I realize that is an entirely inappropriate question,” he added.
She laughed softly. “I am nineteen.”
“And some lucky gentlemen hasn’t snatched you as his bride?” he asked in disbelief. She just gave him a nervous laugh and shrugged. “Tell me, what is your favorite piece of literature?”
Sydney didn’t respond for a moment. She was trying to think of an answer. Truthfully, she didn’t have one; she didn’t read much at all, even though she was one of the few servants that could read. “I don’t have one,” she told him finally.
He looked shocked. “You don’t have one?” She shook her head. “What do you do then? With your time?”
She shrugged noncommittally. What could she have said? “I like to sew.”
He nodded. “So tell me, what do you really think of these parties?”
“Why do you ask that?” she asked in surprise.
He shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the type that lives for them.”
“I’m not. Truthfully, I only came for you,” she admitted shyly. He smiled broadly.
For the next hour, they continued to talk as they sat on one of the benches in the Cole’s garden. Sydney nearly jumped a mile when someone else came into the garden, but luckily they were just passing through. It was then she realized that she needed to be leaving or risk getting caught once more. “I’m sorry Michael, I need to go. It’s getting late,” she told him sadly.
“I’ll walk you home,” he offered quickly.
“NO! No... that won’t be necessary,” she corrected her sharp outburst quickly. His brow furrowed. “I mean, I don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” he smiled.
“But you really, really don’t have to,” she said as she walked a few steps away. She hated the fact that she had to use an almost rude tone with him, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. He couldn’t walk her home; she had no home to go to. They only other thing she could do was explain to him who she really was and then she would surely never see him again. She didn’t want that, but on the other hand, she had no idea how they could continue seeing each other either.
“Sydney.” He stood and grabbed her arm lightly, turning her towards him. “Did I do something to offend you?”
“No! No of course not!” Sydney said quickly, feeling awful.
“Then what is it?” he asked her as he took both of her hands in his.
She looked down at their intertwined hands, not knowing what to say. “It’s.... it’s... my grandmother,” she said unsurely, attempting to continue her prior lie, but not knowing how exactly.
Michael sighed heavily. “It’s because I’m French, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.
Since she had no other response, Sydney decided to go with that even though she felt horrible about it. “Michael, I am so sorry!”
“It’s alright; I’m used to it. It’s fine as long as you don’t share her sentiments.”
“I don’t,” she laughed softly as she looked up at him. “But I am sorry.”
He dropped one of her hands and brought his hand up to stroke her face. “I don’t want to never see you again.”
“I don’t want that either,” she told him quietly.
“Promise me we’ll find a way to see each other once more.”
“I promise,” she whispered. Then, he smiled at her, kissed the back of both of her hands and then walked off towards the Cole’s house, leaving her alone in the garden. Sydney looked up towards the star-scattered sky and offered a silent prayer that she would be able to see him once more.
Can't wait for more.
