1. Arrival

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A/N: I know this is the same as the one shot, don't hate me, but it's also the start of the story, so here's a recap, in case you missed out before.

I had taken a job as a governess in an old estate in Ireland. I had no idea that people still used governesses, but I suppose I needed the extra money. Besides...even though it was a bit far from my flat in London, I was a sucker for archetecture, and this family lived in one of the oldest mansions in the United Kingdom.

"Hello! I'm Y/N, Y/L/N!" I practiced my introduction under my breath as I rolled my bag up the front walk. "Hello, I'm Y/N, Y/L/N!" I tried again, this time with different inflection. Finally, deciding I was going to freak myself out if I spent another minute with my thoughts, I held my breath and pulled the bell at the front door.

I heard a series of echoing rings throughout the giant stone house, which, by the way, was as large as a medieval castle and looked like one too. I put on my best smile as I waited for the door to slowly creak open. On the other side was a small woman with graying hair and eyebrows so bushy they looked like two caterpillars having a right old time.

"Erm...hello!" I started, "My name is Y/N, Y/L/N and I'm the new governess. Are you Lady Holland?" The little woman blinked at me, then burst out laughing in the most contemptuous way. I pursed my lips, a little annoyed and a little embarrassed.

"Heavens, no, girl. You must be from out of town. The Hollands never answer their own door. Got about fifty of us to do it for them. But the Lady's expecting you. Go on." She led me through the door and into the drawing room, where she left me to wait about an hour before a handsome woman in a lean black skirt came in. She had reddish-brown hair and the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen, but something about her made her look older than she was, and a little bit sadder, too.

"My name is Nicola Holland." She extended a gloved hand, which I shook gingerly. "And you are?"

"Pardon me, erm...miss? I'm Y/N, Y/L/N. The new governess?" I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear nervously.

"Ah, yes. Thank God. Patrick's nearly lost his mind and Lord knows Dominic and I don't have time nor will to fix him. (A/N: aaaah, sorry, Dom and Nikki! I love you!) That will be your job. That and providing lessons for the other boys when you've finished." My mind was reeling.

"Other boys? And what's wrong with Patrick? I'm sorry, but I'm extremely lost." I don't know what it was about the situation, but I couldn't quite keep my focus. Perhaps it was the demeaning fashion in which Mrs. Holland looked at me. Perhaps it was the chill in the room despite the warmth of it and the fact that I felt as if I were being watched...

"You are a governess, aren't you? We have three boys. Sam and Harry are twins and Patrick is the youngest. He's been taking Tom's death the hardest. Says he sees him, talks to him. It's really quite disturbing. As I said, you're to fix him. Good luck. The other governesses haven't stayed a week." Who was Tom?

After talking with the mistress of the house, which was unsettling, to say the least, I followed a burly old butler to the library, where two boys of about the same age were flinging spitballs at each other, the picture of anything other than sophistication. Frankly, it made me feel a lot more comfortable.

"Hello! You two must be Sam and Harry. I'm Y/N, your new governess! It's lovely to meet you." I waved sweetly. The two boys glared at me in distaste.

"We're too old for a governess," snapped the one called Harry. Sam nodded and spat at me (A/N: I know I'm making them seem extremely nasty here, but they'll get better...if I write this into a full-length...). I blinked, taken aback, but kept my composure.

"Yeah, but you should take a look at Paddy, though. A real screwball, he is, ever since Tom died." Sam propped his feet up on a very nice coffee table and I had to bite my cheek to keep from saying he might ruin the finish.

"Right..." I said warily. "Who might this Tom be?" I jumped as one of the books fell off the floor-to-ceiling shelves and skidded to a hault in front of my feet. Sam and Harry sniggered.

"Don't believe in ghosts, do you, Y/N?" Harry asked. Sam made a spooky face at me.

"Well, actually, I think that there are things people just can't here or see and only a few of us have the ability to tune into, you know?" I stopped awkwardly once I realized how the boys were looking at me.

"She's a freak just like Paddy," I heard Sam whisper. Harry nodded silently. Figuring I'd better move on, I turned around and followed the butler back out of the room. Suddenly, I began to think to myself that I might like Paddy best. Perhaps he could sense things the way I could.

At the doorway, one of the twins' voices stopped me. "He was our older brother. Fell off the balcony of the front stairs last fall and hit his head."

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