TITLE: Such Sweet Sorrow

AUTHOR: Jennie (jennieln)

EMAIL: [email protected]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first GG fanfic so =

I would really appreciate feedback.

Such Sweet Sorrow Chapter One

He was bored. The manor was cold and empty and he wanted out. Out to adventure, excitement. passion, anything that wasn't here.

His footsteps echoed as he passed through the grand hallway. Up ahead he could hear the voices of his parents and it sent a chill down his spine. He loved his parents dearly but when his mother used that tone, he knew he was in for something.

Leaning against the door jam, he observed them sitting together on a small couch in front of the large fireplace. It wasn't cold outside and he didn't know why they had a fire going but it brought back memories of his childhood.

"You summoned me?" He spoke confidently, hiding his fears beneath a facade.

"Ah, yes my son. Join us won't you?" his father said with a smile.

That made him even more nervous. He sat across from them trying to behave naturally.

"You're almost seventeen now, old enough to be married by now," his mother started.

God, not this discussion again. He didn't want to be married. Ever. Why couldn't they just accept that?

"Now, look son, we are doing this for your own good. She comes from a very influential family and her parents agree that this will be a formidable match."

He stood, overwhelmed. Him, married? "You're arranging a marriage for me?!" he cried. Panic gripped his heart and he fled from the room before they had a chance to respond. He didn't want to hear it. This could not be happening.

He sprinted to the garden that encompassed the grounds. As a child he would run and run through the twists in the paths until a cold day when he was nine. He became so lost it took him five hours to find his way out. He hadn't gone in it since. Until now.

Not paying attention to where her was going, he traveled deeper and deeper into the maze hoping he would become so lost that no one would ever find him. He needed to escape the weight of his parents' words.

Soon, his anger faded and was replaced with a profound sadness. His movements slowed and he allowed himself to catch his breath. Tears threatened to fall but he refused to let them. He did not cry. Turning a corner, he saw her instantly.

She was amazing.

Her rich brown hair fell loosely around her face, framing the beauty of it perfectly as her eyes focused on the book in front of her. Judging by her plain dress, she was probably part of housekeeping and he wondered how he had never set eyes on her before.

He cleared his throat hoping to catch a glimpse of her eyes.

She leapt up out of fright before turning to him, a blush instantly coloring her cheeks. "I. I am so sorry, my lord. I-I know I'm not allowed here-" she stammered before running to the only exit. Luckily, it was behind him and he easily caught her arm as she passed.

"No, please stay," he said softly, wishing she would look at him.

Her hair fell, revealing an expanse of her creamy white neck to him. She was intoxicating."I don't understand, my lord." He held his breath as she slowly turned around, nervously fiddling with the book in her hands.

"What's your name?" he asked, wanting to touch her cheek. her hair. her. If it had been any other girl, he would have, but for some reason she was different. She hesitated then answered shyly.

"Isabella."

Her eyes fluttered down and his heart sped up as he realized she was staring at his hand on her arm.

Reluctantly, he let her go. "Well, Isabella, please stay. I have had a rotten day and would enjoy the company."

She looked panicked and he wondered what she had heard about him. It was probably all true but suddenly he regretted his past indiscretions. "Yes, my lord." She bowed slightly, making him chuckle.

"Please, call me William."

She nodded slowly. "William," she repeated, testing it out.

He smiled at the sound of his name on her lips."Tell me about your book," he said as he sat down under the tree she had been sitting at earlier. Her eyes instantly lit up and he laughed. It felt good. It had been a long time.

***************************************************************

Tristan awoke a few minutes before his alarm went off, feeling exceptionally happy. He struggled to grasp onto the elusive dream that had made him feel so warm.

He remembered bits and pieces vaguely; blue eyes, laughing, a book, a garden, and a name, Isabella.

He didn't know any Isabella's.

Switching off the alarm, he padded into the bathroom rubbing the back of his neck. Mornings sucked. Turning the shower the hottest it would go, he closed his eyes and breathed in the steam letting it seep into him and clear his head.

Twenty minutes later, he grabbed his tie, blazer and backpack before stomping noisily down the grand stairs.

"Tristan, you mother left you a note, dear!" Gretchen called.

Taking his keys from the cupboard in the entryway he strolled to the kitchen."Morning." He found the note on the counter.

"Morning, love. Sleep well?" Gretchen had always been more of a mother figure than the woman who gave birth to him.

"Sure did." He quickly scanned the letter before stopping to re-read it.

Cancel all plans for Friday night. You have a date with the daughter of a very influential family from France. Details later. Kisses.

The elderly lady laughed at the expression on his face. "Oh, it's not like you have to marry the girl or anything."

He couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that was plaguing him.

Gretchen shoved an apple in his had before pushing him to the back door. "You better hurry or you'll be late."

Tristan pushed aside all his worries and smirked. "Planning on it."He quickly ducked out before she could get a hold of that infamous dishtowel. She had impeccable aim.

She sat, shaded comfortably under her favorite tree, reading the novel that she had read hundreds of times before. It had belonged to her mother before. before the sickness. Her whole body ached.

She was the newest maid at the Fairfield Manor so she was stuck with the majority of the grunt work. But she didn't mind. She needed the money.

By this time, she should be heading home, before the sun started to set, but Isabella couldn't get any peace at her cousin' house. It was small, overcrowded and always loud. So instead, she snuck out into the gardens hoping to relax.

For a brief moment, she thought she felt someone watching her but she convinced herself that she was just being paranoid. Hardly anyone ventured this far. Somebody cleared his throat to the side of her and she jumped up out of fright.

She was in for it now. She would surely be fired for trespassing in here. Or even worse, it could be Jack. That was the last thing she needed, to be stuck this far from the house alone with Jack.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and froze in awe. The man before her had an air of nobility about him that made her instantly realize that he was William, the master's son.

She had no idea that he was around her age. She had assumed from the things she had heard that he was more five and twenty. His eyes traveled the length of her body unabashedly and she felt herself blushing profusely."I..I am so sorry, my lord. I-I know I'm not allowed here-" She silently berated herself for sounding so pathetic as she ran past him to the garden's natural entryway.

His hand gently grabbed her arm and she felt a jolt rush through her body. Her toes tingled. She couldn't look at him.

"No, please stay," he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice. Her knees grew weak as she felt his warm breath tickling her neck.

"I don't understand, my lord." He made her nervous but she tried in vain not to show it. She faced him trying to look confident. Who was she kidding? She would be proud if she could just keep her lip from quavering.

"What's your name?" His voice was gentle and it startled her more than the question.

Hesitantly, she answered. "Isabella." His fingers loosened on her arm reminding her of their presence. She found herself staring at them, unable to stop her heart from throbbing a little bit harder. And then he let go, leaving the spot cold and empty.

"Well, Isabella, please stay. I have had a rotten day and would enjoy the company."

Suddenly, all the stories she had heard about him and the majority of the female population within fifteen kilometers, both nobility and not, came flooding into her mind. But she couldn't disobey him. She needed the job desperately.

"Yes, my lord," she said quietly and she bowed her head slightly so he wouldn't notice the flush on her face.

He chuckled and it was a beautiful yet aggravating sound sending chills spiraling through her. How dare he laugh at her!

"Please, call me William."Suddenly, she saw through his cocky and arrogant facade and glimpsed pain in his eyes. She wondered what could possibly be so bad in his life because frankly, he had it all.

She found herself repeating his name in her head before allowing it to pass through her lips.

There was a moment where she thought he was going to kiss her and she surprised herself by wanting him to, despite her fears. But he moved away, crossing to the soft grass she had previously occupied.

"Tell me about your book."

She was confused, yet happy. This was like nothing she had heard about. He used girls-took advantage of them-he didn't ask them about their books.

Excitedly, she sat down next to him and began to relate one of her favorite tales.

****************************************************** *****

Rory woke up refreshed which surprised her since she had gone to bed late the night before when inspiration for a project had hit her.

Rolling over she squealed when she saw the time. She had slept in almost forty minutes past her alarm. Although she had never done it before, she must've turned it off in her sleep.

She grabbed her clothes and ran out of her room, through the kitchen ignoring her mother, to the bathroom, and into the shower. She was out within three minutes, practically a world record in the Gilmore house. Her skirt and shirt were thrown on as she collected the other odds and ends to her uniform.

"Mom!" she cried, as she re-entered the kitchen. "Why didn't you wake me up?" She struggled to pull her hair up into what resembled a ponytail.

Her mother looked up from her business book. "Do I look like a clock radio to you?"

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed exasperatedly.

Lorelei threw her hands up. "I didn't know you were still sleeping, Miss Punctual. You know, you've only been going to Chilton for a week; you really should be trying to make a better impression. Wouldn't want you to tarnish the Gilmore name-oh wait, I already didn't that. Tarnish away."

"Don't make me 'mom' you again," Rory warned. She grabbed her backpack and thermos.

"Want the jeep? I can call Sookie."

She nodded taking a much-needed sip of coffee.

"Did you forget to set the alarm or something?"

"No, I think I was just having a really good dream." She fished her hand around in her bag trying to gain purchase on her keys.

"Ooh! Was it about Dean? Did he take you to the ice cream parlor and buy one of those humongous shakes and get only two straws and then the straws lead you two to each other's mouths and-no wait. that was spaghetti."

"Not to mention dogs," Rory commented dryly. She finally dragged her keys free from the clutches of her overstuffed backpack. "And who says 'parlor' anymore? You're old."

"Okay, Miss Crabby Pants no jeep for you." Lorelei got up and walked to the doorway.

"Okay, okay. I repent. I really need to go." She crossed her arms and looked pointedly at her mom blocking the back door.

"You know, I could just go out the front door."

"Fine, fine. I'll move only if you promise to tell me all the juicy dream details tonight."

"Sorry, plans with Dean, besides I don't remember it."She finally slipped past her mom and ran to the jeep.

Truth be told, she really didn't remember the dream at all. The only thing that remained was a feeling of happiness.

But she definitely didn't have any objections to being happy.

***********************************************************

He stared deep into her eyes and watched her melt before him. It was so easy.

"I'm really sorry-" he cut off trying to remember her name. Sarah? Serena? Stephanie? It continued to elude him so he went on.

"I'm going to have to cancel our date Friday."She looked disappointed, as well she should be, he thought with a hidden smirk.

"What about Saturday?"His smirk slipped through to his mouth. Some girls just never gave up.

"Sorry, hotel Tristan is all booked up. Reservations must be made a year in advance."She pouted and he tried not to roll his eyes.

Leaning comfortably against her locker, he licked his lips, enjoying the look of wanting on her face."BUT we just might be able to make an exception for you."

The bell rang and he looked up just as the new girl ran in with a gust of wind.

He didn't know what it was about her that made him so interested. Okay, he lied. He knew exactly what it was. She didn't want him and he wasn't used to that. A girl had never turned him down before and he vowed that she wouldn't be the first. Most guys would have simply walked away but not Tristan DuGrey. He thrived on a challenge.

He turned and quickly followed her down the hall.

"Hey! Where are you going?" the girl behind him called. "Are we on for Saturday?"

He faced her and, walking backwards, offered a sly grin. "Call the front desk and see what they say!" he yelled through the crowds of students milling their way to their classes, before jogging after the brown haired beauty.

He spotted her at her locker, juggling books. He approached silently and casually draped an arm over her shoulder whispering into her ear. "Bad day, Mary?"

She shrugged out from underneath him. "Tristan, I know it's hard but please refrain from touching me." She shoved a book into her bag and the others into her locker.

"Why? Do I make your knees weak? Make it hard to concentrate?" He reached out to touch her cheek but she angrily jerked away.

"More like make my stomach churn," she snapped back starting toward their first period.

"Wow, Mary. I never knew I made you that nervous." He leaned in close as the walked, smelling something fruity. Oranges. That's what it was. "Don't be scared of me. I don't bite..Unless you want me to." He cocked an eyebrow suggestively, much to her disgust.

"Well, thank you for that terrifying insight into your mind. I'll be sure to pass the tidbits along to someone who cares. That is if I can find someone."

They had reached their classroom and Tristan leapt ahead to hold the door open for her. "How about we continue the scouring of my inner workings over dinner on Saturday?"

"Did the flavor of the week cancel on you? You must be devastated." She sat at her desk and sighed when he kneeled next to her.

"I think I may need some TLC. Now about Saturday-"

"Mr. DuGrey, please take your seat. Class is starting."He stood and in giving the teacher a mock salute, sauntered to his seat in the back. He wondered why Rory didn't succumb to his charms. Not that he expected anyone to, but she seemed to be the only one resilient to them.

He settled back into his seat, determined to take notes this time.

**********************************************************

Rory didn't understand why Tristan was so infuriating. One would think that someone with his upbringing would have better manners but she of all people knew that things were never as they seemed.

Did he really think that, that was the way to a girl's heart? To annoy her? Drive her crazy? She would never understand him. Not that she wanted to, cause she didn't. At all. Her mind wandered and she thought about the dream she had had that morning.

She wished that she remembered it. There was this importance surrounding it. But that was silly. It was only a dream. Just her subconscious entertaining itself.

Suddenly, all went dark. The sounds of the classroom were replaced by that of birds chirping and someone's heavy breathing. She could no longer feel the rigid back of the chair, instead the strong, warm comfort of someone's arms. A tear splashed against her cheek and she opened her eyes to bright blue ones.

"Please Isabella. Don't leave me."She closed her eyes against the onslaught of pain that consumed her and when she opened them, she found herself back in the classroom.

Thanking whatever higher power existed, she saw that no one seemed to have noticed her lapse into unconsciousness.

The rest of the class period passed uneventfully as she forced herself to concentrate on the lecture and not on her impending insanity. The bell rang and she took a moment to gather her wits.

"I know you like to daydream about me, but really, you shouldn't do it in class."

So much for no one noticing. Rory groaned. This was the last thing she needed at the moment.

She got up, planning on simply ignoring him, hoping he would lose interest.

"Now, about Saturday. I'll pick you up at six-"

"Tristan! Do I need to rent a billboard or something? I am not going out with you. Ever." She made the mistake of looking up into his eyes seeing the clear, crystal blue cloud over in hurt. 'No, not hurt,' she told herself. 'Just his ego being bruised.' But she still found herself trying to soften the blow.

"Tristan," she said, grabbing his hand before he turned away. She ignored the unfamiliar thrum she felt at the touch. "It's not-I have a boyfriend."

He visibly darkened and pulled away."I don't know what you're thinking but I was just trying to do the new girl a favor. Believe me, it won't happen again."

He left before she had a chance to respond.