The next day in the afternoon when it was clearly sunny outside due to the sunlight pouring through the windows, Mandy was assigned to dust all the mantles, tables, vases, and so forth, before the family came down for lunch. She had her feather duster with her, and was dusting the fireplace mantle in the main sitting room near the entry way. Some dust got into her nose and she sneezed.

"God bless you," she heard a mature male voice say behind her. She whirled around to find—she gasped and dropped her duster—Lord Grantham! "My apologies for startling you," he said.

"Oh, no, it's okay, Lord Grantham," she said and picked up her duster from the floor.

"Ah, you're the new American maid, am I right?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you so much for allowing me to work here."

He waved a hand. "Oh, I was delighted to. We can always use some extras hands in this massive house. How are you liking Downton?"

"It's... really beautiful. In an ancient kind of way."

He looked around. "Yes, this place has been around for a few centuries."

"So I've heard." She had watched a documentary on the castle before, only its actual name was Highclere Castle.

"I see. Well, I mustn't keep you from doing your work." He gave her friendly, almost fatherly smile. She felt her tense muscles ease.

"It's okay. It was a pleasure to meet you."

He bowed a little, a twinkle in his eye. "The same."

He was about to turn and leave when they both heard, "Lord Grantham," in a booming male voice. He turned and up came a tall young man with brown hair and a square jaw. Mandy had to hold her breath for a moment. This guy's way hot! Who is he? Mandy never saw him in the show. Maybe someone that visited off-camera?

"My good chap, Mr. Northerland," Lord Grantham said, and shook the man's hand. "I apologize. I wasn't out to meet you in the front."

"Not to worry. I came earlier than expected."

The man's gaze shifted to Mandy and he stared for a moment, looking her up and down. A smile grazed his lips and his left brow twerked in a suggestive way. Mandy quickly looked away and went on with her work.

That hunk just checked her out! What was it with these higher-class men and maids? The guy was probably another suitor for Mary who Edith would most likely try to steal.

Mandy finished dusting that room and moved on. As she dusted a small table against the wall with a vase full of white flowers in it, she bumped into someone. She turned and found Thomas there. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said as he tall form loomed over her.

"Watch where you're goin', will ya?"

He walked away and her nose twitched. She had gotten a bit used to his snotty character, but it still bugged her that she didn't know the root of his hatred.

The hours passed, and Mandy stayed up on the main floor most of the time, dusting, putting things away and whatnot. This was the longest she had been on the main floor. She was able to see the whole family walk from the dining room to the drawing room as she carried a load of sheets, folded, to be put away. As she did so, she accidentally caught the eye of Mr. Northerland. He winked at her!

"This is way too weird," she muttered as she found the cupboards to put the sheets in downstairs. "Guys never give me this kind of attention at home. This world is definitely not real..."

She headed back to get some silver, but only a couple pieces, to be brought out of the dining room and back downstairs for polishing. Mr. Carson had her do so because she seemed to be a better polisher than Thomas and William—Thomas naturally wasn't happy when he found that out. On her way, though, she saw someone in the corner of her eye. She didn't think anything of it until she heard behind her, "Miss."

She whirled around to find Mr. Northerland standing there, decked out in his dinner suit, and with a handsome smile on his face. She stood tall and straight, as she was told to in the presence of guests. "Yes, sir?"

"I heard you are the new American maid," he said in an irritatingly attractive English accent, stepping closer. "I have family living in America. In New York."

She gulped, attempting to calm the swirling emotions produced by being near an intensely handsome man. "Really? Well, I'm sorry to say that I don't know that part of the country since I'm from the Northwest."

"I see. Quite green, I hear."

"It is, because of the evergreen trees covering the mountains."

He nodded, that smile still there, and his gaze right on her face. She felt heat travel up her neck and enter her cheeks. It irked her that he probably noticed her pink cheeks due to her fair Irish skin. She cleared her throat when his stare became a little too long and a little too uncomfortable. "Well, if you will excuse me, Mr. Northerland..."

She walked a little away from him as he said, "You remembered my name."

"I did. I was there when you met Lord Grantham."

"I remember. What is your name?"

"Mandy."

"I see. I will always associate that name with a pretty face and fiery red hair."

She stopped and turned to face him. He just hit on her! Her! The woman in her was flattered, but the realist in her told her to run. That look of his became seductive.

"Well, thank you, sir, but I must get back to my duties," she hurriedly said, and turned to go again, but he suddenly said, stopping her,

"Why go now? Let us chat a little more." He stepped forward and caressed the top of her left arm, near her shoulder. He cooed, "I would like to hear more of your intensely attractive American accent."

Red alert. Get away from this guy as fast as possible!

"Excuse me," Mandy said, and walked briskly away. She didn't get far when her arm was pulled, and she was yanked to a secluded hallway where she remembered Rose got proposed to by Atticus later in the show. She was slammed against the hard wood of the cabinets there, the impact causing pain to shoot through her back and the back of her head. She dropped the candle holders and hollered, "Let me go!"

She struggled to get away, but he had both her shoulders in a tight hold. He leaned in close and she could feel his body heat and hot breath. His strong cologne filled her nostrils, and made her feel sick in the stomach.

"You're the first women who has ever attempted to get away from me," he said in a low tone.

"Well, I'm not like other women. I have morals."

He smirked. She struggled, still in his hold. Her heart pounded through her head, and anger flared through her like nothing she has felt before. On full defensive mode, she about kicked him in the shins, but he pressed his full body against her, keeping her from doing so. She couldn't escape.

"The moment I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he muttered near her ear, and his tight grip on her became painful.

"Yeah, right," she breathed. "Do you say that to other women you force yourself on?"

"I only say that to the most beautiful ones."

Her eyes widened. What a player! She struggled again, and screamed, but it was cut short by his mouth slamming on hers. She tried to scream still, and move her head, but it was no use. She felt the pin holding her hair back poke painfully into her scalp. Tears filled her eyes in desperation as she finally was able to turn her head. She hit his chest with her fists, but he took hold of her wrists and pinned her there. He went at her neck as her eyes seared with hot tears.

"Stop!" she begged. "Stop!"

Suddenly, Mr. Northerland no longer had a hold of her. He was pushed away from her and thrown to the floor by some strong force. Through her tear-filled eyes, Mandy saw—she gasped—Thomas! She backed away from the men and stared shocked at the scene about to unfold...

Mr. Northerland got up and Thomas went right for his collar and slammed him against the cabinets, which made Mandy yelp. He said with surprising calmness, "If you want your good name to not be tainted, I suggest you leave now before I let His Lordship know what you were up to, excusin' yourself from the drawin' room."

Mr. Northerland glared at him and tore his hold off of him. "And you think he'll believe a footman?" he spat. "Likely chance."

"I have been workin' here for nearly a decade," he said, his voice still calm, but deadly. "He will trust me more than you."

The posh man huffed through his nose. He glanced at Mandy, whose maid hairpiece was almost falling off, and pointed at her. "I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," she said, her body aching all over.

Mr. Northerland cantered away, fixing his hair and jacket. Mandy's heart pounded hard at her chest as Thomas stood there, panting, with his combed hair falling out of place.

"Thomas..."

"You always seem to be causing trouble."

She glared at him, appalled. "Me? I'm causing trouble? How? I didn't ask that man to do that, you know."

He huffed and walked away and Mandy followed him downstairs to the servants' area, then down the hall, and out the back door into the cool night air. He stood near the picnic table. She heard him breathe hard through his nose.

"Thomas," she said, the cool air making the tears in her eyes feel cold, "thank you for getting that animal off of me."

"My pleasure," he said dryly. Silence ensued between them for a minute. "Anythin' else?"

Mandy didn't lose a beat on that one, not when it was just the two of them. "Yes, in fact. I want to know why you're so rude to me, and look like you're going to eat me alive every time you see me. What do you have against me? I heard you and Mrs. O'Brien scheming to throw me out."

"We weren't goin' to throw you out," he said hotly, "just scare you away. But I changed my mind and told her to forget it."

That was news to her! "What? Why?"

He remained silent, still breathing hard through his nose. His shoulders moved up and down as he did so.

"Thomas?" she prodded, but nothing came from him. "Why? Why did you tell her to leave me be?" He said nothing still. She huffed through her nose. "Fine. Then how come..."

She was stopped because Thomas whirled around, cantered up to her, grabbed her face and caught her mouth with his. Her eyes widened twice their size out of sheer shock.

What the heck?! Thomas is supposed to be gay!

She froze as he kept his mouth on hers and moved it just once. His soft lips left hers and he looked back at her. He put his hands down.

"Thomas, what are you...?" she let out in a slight daze, and shock coursing through her system.

"You wanted to know why I told O'Brien to back off? You wanted to know why I treated you like scum? Because you changed me. I'm not the way I was because of you."

"The way you were?" she asked, her tears now dried. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. People've told you."

She didn't say anything to that and looked off to the side at some crates.

"I was drawn to you against my will and I hated it," he said and she looked back at him. "Every time I looked at you, I resented the fact that I was drawn to you." He stepped closer, his blue eyes fierce. "Do you think I took it lightly that I've been the way I was all my life, and then am suddenly attracted to a woman in a single instant? No, I did not."

Her fingers twisted her apron, and she swallowed. That time he stared at her when she first arrived... "Thomas, I'm... I'm honestly really shocked."

"I was, too. So you're not going to accept me because of that, are you?"

Accept him? One of her show crushes wants her to accept him, when he was a jerk to her? "How can I? You treated me like dirt, just like you do everyone else, especially Mr. Bates, who you do everything in your power to get rid of." Then she added, "I guess it's good that you're thinking about helping in the war. You won't be here to bully anyone."

His pursed lips started trembling and his eyes began to redden. She took a deep breath.

"Thank you again for rescuing me form Mr. Northerland, but... I'm sorry. You made it so it isn't possible that I could accept you." She looked back at the door, then back at him. "We should get back in. Mr. Carson will chew us like a dog bone if he finds out that we're gone."

Thomas huffed through his nose a few times, trying to keep in his emotion. Mandy truly felt sorry for him, but it was his own fault. He should have been nicer to her, then maybe they could at least be friends. She looked him in the eye once more, then turned and walked inside. She went into the servants' hall and sat down in a random chair and put her head down on her folded arms.

Thomas fell for her.

"I definitely wasn't expecting this..." she whined into her arms on the table.