Author's note: Firstly thank you for the reviews, they are greatly appreciated. Secondly sorry I'm a bit late in posting, I just started classes and my professors do believe in homework at any time. I'll try to get it up sooner this week though. And thirdly, yes I changed the name of the story so something less well unoriginal. Anywho please enjoy this chapter:

Alfred woke up when the rooster crowed. The sun was barely peeking over the mountains in the distance and the cool air from the night was still eager to bite at anyone's nose who had it exposed. Alfred would have preferred to stay curled up on the couch in his blanket, but he had to get ready, and so he forced himself out of bed and got ready for the day. After eating some cornbread because his stomach was growling he went outside. First he fed the chickens and collected their eggs, and then made sure that Honey had some fresh hay for her to eat before he took her out to the fields again for another long and hard day of breaking up the ground. Once she was fed he milked the cow, Loraine. Once she was all milked and then put out so that she could eat Alfred lugged the bucket of fresh milk back into the house.

Inside the kitchen the house was closed and he assumed that his guest, Arthur Kirkland, was probably still sleeping. Alfred wondered if he should wake him up since he did promise to take him in to town in the morning, but he was unsure. Arthur Kirkland seemed like the kind of man who would throw something at whoever tried to take him out of bed early but Alfred had the feeling that he would get chewed out if he let Mr. Kirkland sleep in while he got caught up in his own work.

I'll make breakfast and then wake him up, Alfred decided. Food usually made people want to get up with less of a fuss. Alfred knew this first hand, the smell of bacon and eggs had never failed to get him out of bed when his Ma and Pa were still alive.

After putting the milk into the glass jug Alfred went into the cooler behind the house and grabbed some slabs of bacon. Back inside he lit the stove and then put the skillet on top of the fire. He had not made himself anything beyond basic meals since his parents had passed, but he figured that Mr. Kirkland would probably appreciate it if Alfred fed him something more than cold cornbread and some strawberries.

So whistling a tune Alfred's granddaddy loved to play on the fiddle when still alive, Alfred set to making breakfast just like he had seen his mother do so many times when she was still alive.

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Arthur was dreaming that he was back in London, dancing in the rain, something he would never do in real life. He was happy as the cold water hit his skin but then everything went dark and dry. It felt like someone had covered him with a burlap sack. He tried to kick his way out, but he was already all the way inside. Claustrophobia began to eat away at his mind as he tried to scream for his, but of course his screams went unheard. He could hear some muffled laughter from outside of the burlap sack and he desperately tried to get out of the sack. As he struggled the faint aroma of bacon and eggs reached him

He paused, where was that smell coming from? He let his subconscious follow the smell and found himself in his consciousness. It was light and he was warm, but he did not feel like he was in his own bed. Not to mention Francis would cook something like bacon and eggs. Arthur let out a groggy noise and opened his eyes. He was not at home. It took a while, but his mind soon became up-to-date with what had gone on in the past week, but that did not stop him from scowling. He was in some American's house, a kid no less, and had no idea how to get back home.

Arthur sat up and rubbed his eyes, glaring at the rising sun beyond the window in the room. He needed to leave this godforsaken country and get back home, but there was one big problem, he had no money. Normally Sir Arthur Kirkland always had some money on him, but yesterday as he was escaping his captors he had discovered that whatever money he had had on the day he had been kidnapped had been taken. So what now? He had too much pride to beg money from anyone. It looked like he would have to find a job somewhere.

The Brit groaned and lay back in the bed, feeling a headache coming on. He was so angry. If he ever got his hands on the person who had brought him to this damned place he would shot them dead, right then and there. Well he would first have to challenge them to a duel like a proper gentleman. Arthur frowned, did Americans even duel, he wondered. He doubted that any of them were proper gentlemen so maybe dueling did not exist here and people just shot each other without any proper etiquette.

Before Arthur could pursue this train of thought any further the smell of breakfast had become too heavy in the room that his stomach began making very upset noises, letting Arthur know that it demanded to be fed and be damned his will. Arthur sighed; food was food and the food that the American was making smelt so delicious. So the unhappy gentleman got out of the bed. He paused by the mirror first and straightened his clothes and hair before leaving the room because while he was not as vain as a certain Frenchman that he knew, he still had pride and it just would not do for some American to think that he was sloppy.

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When his guest had eventually come into the kitchen Alfred had breakfast already laid out. He knew that it probably didn't taste as goo0d as his Ma's, but he hoped that the Brit would like it just the same.

"Good morning!" Alfred greeted Arthur cheerfully.

"Morning," Arthur grumbled, at least that's what Alfred assumed had come from the foreigner's mouth. His guest looked grumpy but it did nothing to affect Alfred's mood, he was glad to have someone in the house for once, even if it was a grumpy snob who would probably be leaving soon.

"So," Alfred began after they were halfway through their meal. "I was thinking after breakfast I can take you into town and get drop you off at the carriage station so that you can buy your ticket and be on your way."

He expected to be met with gratitude but his guests' mood just got darker. Alfred frowned as he watched Arthur eat his food sullenly.

"Um Arthur?"

"It's Sir Arthur to you," his guest snapped. "And that would be fine except that I don't have any money. Those pricks who jumped me took it all."

"Oh." Alfred pursued his lips together, trying to think of a resolution for the Englishman. Then his face broke out into a grin. "I know! You can help me with getting the seeds in the ground before autumn comes, plus other odds and ends around the barn! I have enough from my last harvest to pay you 30 cents a day and within two months you will be able to leave!"

"Two months?" Arthur blanched. "Isn't there any other way for me to get out of this godforsaken country quicker?"

Alfred frowned at the insult to him homeland, but he could see that Arthur was obviously distressed so he didn't say anything about it. Any other time though he would have put the foreigner in his place.

"I suppose we can go into town and check to see if there any jobs there. I don't go into town much save Sunday's for church but who knows, there could be something," Alfred suggested. "Though if you stay here I won't charge you for room and board."

Arthur frowned. Obviously staying with Alfred was the best plan, that way he wouldn't have to waste some of his pay on a room and food. Alfred watched him deliberate this, his heart pounding a little quickly from hope. He had been so alone since Ma and Pa passed away and so having someone else to live with, even if only for a little while would be nice. Plus Alfred was sure that in time Arthur's sour mood would lessen, that or he'd be too tired from work to complain.

Arthur sighed. "I would prefer to look in town," he said.

Alfred's heart sunk a little. He wondered why Arthur seemed so against staying with him, but he knew that he couldn't force his guest to stay. "Alright I'll get Honey, my horse, hitched to the cart and then we'll go into town."

"Though," Arthur said as Alfred made to collect their plates. The Brit was looking away from his host as if what he wanted to say caused him much embarrassment. "If I can't find anything I would like to work for you. Though I must warn you I'm bloody awful at manual labor."

Alfred smiled and staked Arthur's food-free plate on top of his. "That's fine, you'll get used to it after about a week and besides I know you'll do well."

Arthur looked at the young man to see him smiling earnestly but then quickly looked away again. Why was this American brat so happy that he might stay here?

A/N: Please review, it makes me happy and pushes me to write more for you!