Sorry for the delay in updating this. As well as the muse going walkabout and work getting in the way, I was wondering if there was any more mileage in this story. I'm sure you will tell me if I should continue.

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Margaret took the receiver from the maid. Her daughter had called and she rarely phoned, connections were never that good. However she did write regularly.

"Phryne, darling," she smiled down the phone, "how are you?"

In her bedroom in Melbourne, Phryne Fisher Robinson shifted her hold on her new born son, sleeping after his first feed, "very well, mother," she sighed, "just wanted to let you know we have a son, Sebastian John."

"A boy, oh, Phryne, congratulations to you both," Margaret sat down on the seat beside the little table immediately wondering if they could manage a trip to see them. "Isn't he a little early?"

"Couple of weeks," Phryne agreed, "but he's fine, six and a half pounds and a good pair of lungs."

"Oh darling, I am so happy for you," her mother grinned, "now, would it be alright if we came over to see you, but we'll give you time to get over the birth, first."

"You know we would love to see you, and you can meet William," she said, "he's coming on a treat, Polly loves him."

"Ah, yes, the little orphan you adopted," Margaret mused, "for someone who wasn't interested in having a family you seem to have rather a large one, now, darling."

"Funny old world," she yawned, "and no one is more surprised than me, but with Jack by my side, life is an even bigger adventure."

"You get some rest, Phryne, dear," her mother said, "I shall let you know when we are likely to arrive."

"Right, I'll book you into the Windsor again, shall I?"

"That would be lovely," Margaret agreed, "I shall keep your father's cigars under lock and key, or the ocean, whichever is easiest."

Phryne laughed and looked up at Jack as he entered the room, bearing a tray of sandwiches and tea. She put the phone down and swapped her hold on the baby for the food. She was rather hungry and knew she had to feed herself in order to feed her son.

"Alright?" Jack sat down on the side of the bed and cradled his son, "how was your mother?"

Fine, sends her congratulations," she swallowed a mouthful of tea, "they're going to come over to meet Sebastian and William. Not immediately, but I would guess as soon as she can get passage."

"Only to be expected, darling," he smiled, "this is the future Baron I hold in my arms, isn't it?"

"It is, Sebastian, Baron of Richmond," she giggled, "the title's bigger than he is. I hope he'll be a better holder of the title than his grandfather."

"With your guiding hand, love, I'm sure he will be just perfect."

"And yours, Jack, you will show him the right way," she reached over and squeezed his hand.

"We, Phryne," he bent forward and kissed her gently, "together, we'll set them all on the right path, and hope they stay on it."

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He settled the baby into his bassinet and left Phryne to rest. She was more inclined to behave this time, but still hoped to be down in the parlour at the end of the week. Mac said there was no reason not to be but had still told her she would visit each day to check her and the baby over.

Jack's mother had also sent her congratulations when he phoned her and asked if they would like her to come over and help out, at least with the older children if not the baby. He had said he would check with his still rather independent wife, first, but did invite her over to visit as soon as she wanted to.

He put the offer to Phryne as she finished the last piece of Mr Butler's quiche.

"Oh, yes," she nodded enthusiastically, she and Violet got on famously, "tell her she is welcome to stay as long as she wants, Polly will be delighted and it will be good for William to get used to her being around. He has barely seen her."

"I'll let her know, then," he smiled, "would you mind if I invited my sister over, to see him?"

"Of course not," Phryne pushed the tray down to the end of the bed, "we don't see enough of her and the children, and you'd better ring Aunt Prudence."

"Already done," he tucked his son into the bassinet, took the tray to the dressing table and positioned himself on the bed to hold her for a while, while they had some peace.

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Violet was mobbed by Polly as soon as she stepped into the house, closely followed by William toddling behind her.

"Gamma!" Polly opened her arms and wrapped them round Violet's legs.

"Polly, my dear, why how you've grown," she lifted her up for a hug and a kiss then set her down to greet William, "and you too, William, such a big boy now."

He giggled and snuggled against her, William was a cuddler.

"Mama has a new baby, Gamma," Polly tugged her hand, "you come and see."

"Let me get my coat off, and wash my hands, sweetheart," Violet smiled, "tell me what his name is."

"Bastian," Polly stammered out, "Bastian John."

Violet laughed at the approximation of her newest grandchild's name and let Mr Butler relieve her of the coat and hat.

"They are in the parlour, Mrs Robinson," he murmured, "tea will be served presently."

"Thank you Mr Butler," she nodded, "it's nice to see you again."

"And you, madam."

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In the parlour, Phryne had heard Violet arrive, or rather she had heard the squeals of delight from her daughter, and settled Sebastian in the cradle, smoothed her dress down and sat on the chaise.

The door opened and Violet advanced towards her with her arms wide to embrace her daughter in law.

"Phryne," she kissed her on both cheeks, "you look wonderful, dear, and downstairs already, marvellous!"

"Hello, Violet," Phryne grinned, "yes, Mac said I should be alright downstairs, as long as I behave myself. Please sit with me, Sebastian is asleep, as you can see."

"Polly called him Bastian," Violet took the offered seat, "I think his full name is a bit of a mouthful for her."

"William just calls him baba," Phryne laughed, "but they both love him, so far."

"Jack didn't say much on the phone," Violet continued, "just that it had been an easy birth, but he's a man, what would he know?" she laughed as she remembered chastising him over the remark, "and that he will take the title of Baron of Richmond in the fullness of time. I expect your parents are pleased."

"They will be over, when they can get passage," Phryne confirmed, "and Jack is right, it wasn't too bad, but we have agreed that four is enough, or we'll have to move. There will come a time when we won't be able to have overnight visitors."

Mr Butler chose that moment to bring a tray of tea and little cakes in, and Dot had thoughtfully added two glasses of milk for the older children. Margaret would be horrified at having two small children drinking milk in her parlour, but Polly and William knew that if they behaved and sat nicely they could take tea with mama and gamma rather than in the kitchen.

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Things seemed to slip back to how they were when Polly was born. Violet helped in the kitchen, minded the older children and Reggie, and Phryne continued to recover well. She was downstairs for most of the day in the parlour and by the second week had taken Bassie, as Sebastian was now known, out for a short walk round the block in the pram. By the time he was a month old they were a familiar sight, Phryne pushing the pram, Violet, Dot, Polly, William and Reggie, heading to the gardens or the foreshore and occasionally they were joined by Jack and Hugh, when duties allowed.

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"Now, Henry," Margaret touched his arm, "you know there is not enough room at Wardlow for us to stay. Phryne has booked us into the Windsor, we shall be quite comfortable there."

"Violet stays there," he huffed, "why is it her and not us?"

"Oh for heaven's sake," she signed the hotel register, "Violet is helping with the older children, I can't see you doing that." She smiled and nodded at the concierge as he called for a porter to carry their luggage to their suite.

"And you?" he asked, "would you help?"

"Of course, but I am happy to do what I can when we are there," she answered honestly, "neither Phryne nor Violet are possessive."

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The suite was large and well appointed, with its own sitting room and bathroom. Margaret looked round, she was much like her daughter in habits and decided that the large scroll-footed bath was particularly inviting, after a long voyage and dusty drive from the docks, she would have a hot and relaxing bath, before telephoning her daughter and informing her of their arrival.

Henry slumped into the couch and took out a cigar.

"Oh no you don't," she plucked it from his fingers and dropped it in a waste-bin, "you can get out of the habit before we go to greet Sebastian and welcome him into the family. You know how Phryne felt about them when Polly was born."

"Phht," he blew out, "no cigars and I suppose you are going to stop me drinking, as well."

"It won't do you any harm, Henry," she huffed, sounding rather like Lady Bracknell, "you were a little, how would Phryne put it, well oiled, most nights on the way out here."

Henry pouted and watched his wife head into the bathroom. He couldn't see her smile, though the way she straightened her shoulders indicated she was not to be trifled with, that she meant what she said.

While Margaret soaked in the bath, Henry read the paper, thoughtfully provided by the hotel, skimming over the news about the financial woes of the country and heading straight to the racing pages, wondering if there was a chance he could place a few bets. There was probably a waiter or porter who was in the know, someone he could get to put his bets on. He cocked his head and listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom. He knew his wife would be some time, soaking the journey away, so he stood up and headed to the door.

"Don't even think about going to the bar or to find a bookie's runner," the voice came from the bathroom.

How did she know? He turned round but she was still in the bath, so how ...?

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Margaret knew her husband well, and knew she had waited long enough, that he would have read the paper and decided which half dead nag he was going to lose his money on. It seemed only right she should remind him that she was well aware he would try to sneak out.

She heard him stomp back to the couch and flop into it. She smiled and lay back, smoothing soft suds down her arm, inhaling the scent of rose crystals. Life was so much easier now, since Phryne had been over to England and sorted out the finances. So much had happened since those dark days, she felt the sun had come out and no clouds dimmed the warmth and light. Now the estate worked well, it kept itself and them in relative comfort, all the bills were paid and the staff were happy. Then Phryne had really surprised them and presented them with two grandchildren, one of which, Sebastian, would one day inherit the estate. His parents would see he was well educated and well placed to take over and probably modernise the running of the estate. The world was changing and the younger generation would have ideas far and away beyond her thinking.

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When she finally came out of the bathroom, wearing a rather becoming robe in china blue silk, Henry had fallen asleep on the couch and was sitting with his head thrown back, his mouth open, making the most unattractive noises. Still, he was still in the suite ... she smirked.

Deciding against waking him, she tiptoed to the telephone at the side of the bed and rang down for afternoon tea, for both of them, then put a call through to Phryne.

"Darling," she smiled into the receiver, "how are you?"

She had a lovely conversation with her daughter that culminated with an invitation to tea the following day. The invitation included Henry, as long as he left his cigars at home.

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Phryne felt content, which surprised her. Never, since she had left England to drive ambulances during the war, had she felt so content. In fact, she mused to herself as she gave Sebastian a feed, she didn't think she had been this content since Janey. The thought caused a tear to roll down her cheek, and she wondered what Janey would think.

"Phryne?" Jack had entered the bedroom, "are you alright?"

She looked up and smiled, "yes, just thinking about Janey, and what she would make of me sitting here, feeding my second child."

"She'd be sitting here smiling," he stroked Bassie's head with his finger, "and I can't help but think she is, always."

"Oh, Jack," she sniffed, "not fair."

"Sorry," he leant forward and kissed her gently, "but I have always felt, since we found her that she is here, with you, and I think you do to."

"I think, when we found her," she admitted, "I felt whole again."

"Still inclined to be a bit reckless, though," he scooted onto the bed and sat beside her, "which is why I love you so, and why I know our children will always be safe, in an unconventional way."

"Why settle for boring," she smiled, "when there is fun to be had out there, and learning to be self sufficient, strong, resilient."

"Indeed."

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Margaret and Henry duly arrived to take tea with their daughter and grandchildren the following afternoon. Henry traipsed behind his wife, rather like a recalcitrant child, carrying some gifts for the children, a large, wooden toy train for William and a soft bodied doll for Polly, with a composite head and limbs. The doll was clothed in a frilly dress and a deep red velvet fitted coat, bonnet and little black button boots, for the baby it had been decided he should have a teddy bear. Margaret, mindful of the other children in the house; Reggie and Jane; carried a wooden truck for Dot's son, and a book of Ancient History for Jane, beautifully illustrated with sketches and photographs. She had considered a dress or some other item of clothing, but decided that Phryne would see she was dressed smartly and probably rather expensively, and she wasn't sure how much the young girl had grown.

Mr Butler opened the door and ushered in the guests, inwardly smiling at Henry grumbling away.

"Some help, Lord Fisher?" he offered.

"Lovely," the peer grunted, "gifts, children, y'know."

"Of course, sir," Mr Butler bowed politely.

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In the rear parlour, Dot was supervising the children; Polly and Reggie were playing with some wooden bricks, building some kind of structure that only they knew what it was, William still required a nap mid afternoon and was on a large floor cushion in the corner, flat on his back with his arms flung over his head. Her mistress was upstairs feeding Sebastian, a normal afternoon at Wardlow. She heard the front door go and the mutterings of voices and surmised that Phryne's parents had arrived. Phryne had told her not to worry about the state of the room.

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"It is the children's playroom, first and foremost," she smiled, "we shall take tea in the front parlour, but I should like the children to join us for as long as possible."

"Of course, Miss," Dot laughed, "until Polly gets bored ..."

"... or gets frightened by her grandfather."

"Do you think that will happen, Miss?" Dot's eyes widened, "I don't see him as frightening little children."

"I'm not sure if I would call him grandfather material, really," Phryne sighed, "he certainly wasn't a good parent, as you know, I don't know if he will be different with grandchildren. Remember, he only met Polly when she was a couple of months old, she wasn't old enough to interact with him."

"I suppose not," Dot tipped her head to one side, "is he going to smoke those cigars?"

"Mother has said she will encourage him to leave them behind, in fact she said she would keep them under lock and key, or the ocean, which would be preferable. I am absolutely sure she hates them as much as I do."

"Good," Dot drew her shoulders up, "I'm sure they aren't good for the children."

"I don't think they are particularly good for the rest of us, either," Phryne laughed.

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Upstairs Phryne had also heard her parents arrive. Bassie was still suckling and she wasn't minded to stop him until he had had his fill. He was an easy baby, fed well and slept for long periods during the night. His mother decided he had more of his father's temperament than hers and Violet had confirmed Jack was the same as a baby. She let him finish, winded and changed him, then settled him in the middle of the bed while she tidied herself up, repaired her make-up and brushed her hair.

"Well, my little Honourable boy," she picked him up and kissed his soft downy head, "let's go and introduce you to your grandparents, shall we?"

Bassie snuffled in his sleep and flexed his little fingers before settling in his mother's arms.

Mr Butler had settled the Baron and Baroness in the front parlour and Violet had joined them, saying Phryne would be down soon as she was seeing to the baby.

"I take it she still has no intention of hiring a nanny, not even now she has three small children?" Margaret mused.

"Not as far as I know," Violet smiled, "Dot is a great help, Reggie plays with Polly and William joins in as much as he can. Jane helps when she is home and hasn't much homework to do, but she is considering hiring another maid; live out; mainly to help Mr Butler."

"I thought she was going to after Portia was born," Margaret gave the little girl her 'Sunday' name, the one used when she was in trouble.

"She considered it, but Mr Butler said he could manage, and once Reggie was born Dot took up her duties again, really, things go along pretty well, I hear," Violet was sure Phryne would have mentioned all this in her letters, though she knew the idea of another maid was more than an idea this time, It was finding the right person, that was all that was needed.

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When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Phryne decided to collect the other children before heading into the parlour to see her parents. She pushed the door to the children's room and saw that William had woken from his nap and was being tidied up by Dot. Polly's ribbons had been retied in her dark curls and her dress smoothed out, Reggie had had his hair smoothed down by his fastidious mother, and his shirt tucked in; their faces were clean, perfectly presentable.

"Mama," Polly skipped over to her, "has Bassie had his milk?"

"He has, darling girl," her mother smiled and caressed her cheek, "shall we take him to meet Grandmother and Grandfather Fisher?"

"Alright," Polly took her hand, "are they nice?"

Trust her daughter to put her on the spot like that, an honest answer would be too complicated for her to understand, and a simple yes would not be a full truth.

"Let's see," was all she could come up with, let the child make up her own mind. "Come along, William, Dot will you bring the boys, please?"

"Of course, Miss," she took their hands, "come on boys, front parlour."

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"Tea in fifteen minutes, Miss?" Mr Butler opened the door for her.

"Lovely," she smiled, "the children will be joining us."

"Of course, Miss."

Margaret turned round and smiled, Phryne looked wonderful, she thought. Polly stood quietly by her mother, wondering whether she could run over to Gamma or should stay close to her mother. The new lady sitting in the chair nearest the fire looked kind, she was smiling, which was always a good sign. She knew the new people were Mama's Mama and Papa and that they had come to see her when she was a baby, like Bassie was now, but she didn't remember them.

"Well, Polly," Margaret held out her hand, "haven't you grown into quite the young lady, just like your mama when she was a little girl." It was true, although Polly's hair had a wave to it, she was very much like the two year old Phryne to look at.

"Little minx," Henry muttered, then hissed as Margaret's toe connected with his shin, he cleared his throat, "quite, very like her."

Polly wasn't sure about Henry, but she obediently went to her Grandmother and accepted a kiss to the cheek, she smelled like mama's lavender bath salts.

"So this is your little brother," Margaret continued to address Polly as Phryne handed Bassie over to her, "is he a good baby?"

Polly nodded.

"Cat got your tongue?" Henry asked, a little sharply, Polly flinched.

"Take no notice of Grandpa," Margaret patted her hand, "he's just grumpy because I won't let him smoke his cigars. They smell horrid."

"Oh," Polly didn't know what a cigar was but she was rather glad her grandmother had stopped him bringing something smelly into the house.

"You look wonderful, Phryne dear, happy?"

"I am, mother, thank you," Phryne smiled and pulled William onto her knee, "this is William, he's a little shy."

"I don't blame you, William," Margaret smiled, "new grown-ups can be a bit frightening." She looked again at Phryne, who she thought had never looked happier, "there are some gifts for the children, I hope they are suitable."

"That's very kind of you, mother, you didn't have to."

"I'm their grandmother, Phryne, it's my duty to spoil them," Margaret laughed, "now, eldest first, I think, so, Polly, this is for you, I hope you like it." She passed the child a large box with a bright red ribbon on the lid. Polly put it on the floor and, with a little help, lifted the lid to reveal the doll. Her eyes widened like saucers. She had a couple of dolls, a rag doll that Dot had made for her when she was just toddling, she adored it because Aunty Dot had made it just for her, it had been washed and loved and washed again. She had a hard bodied doll, with dark ringlets, was dressed in a blue dress and white bloomers. The bonnet had long gone, driven over by the toy cars that were regularly whizzed over the floor and it only had one shoe, but Polly still loved it. Phryne's eyes were almost as wide, it wasn't a doll for playing with, she thought.

"Mother," she whispered, "that's a very expensive present."

"Aren't I allowed to spoil my granddaughter, dear?" Margaret huffed, "it has a soft body so is for playing with, not to be sat on a shelf and looked at. Now," she turned to another box, "this is for William," she offered the box to the little boy, still sitting on his mother's knee, "for you, young man," she smiled at him.

William looked at Phryne, she smiled and nodded and helped him slide down to toddle over. Polly helped him with the lid and he too sat there with eyes wide open at the sight before him.

"Twain, Mama," he grinned, "big one."

"It's almost as big as you, William," Phryne laughed, "now what do you two have to say to Grandmother?"

"Tank oo," William smiled shyly.

"Thank you, Gran'mo," Polly patted her knee, "she's beautiful."

"You are most welcome, children," Margaret smiled, "now, Reggie, I haven't forgotten you ..."

"Oh, Lady fisher," Dot blushed, "really, you didn't have to."

"Of course I did, my dear," Lady Fisher smiled, "you are not just a servant, you are part of Phryne's family. An unusual family, I admit, but nevertheless ... now, Reggie, this is for you." She held out another box, not quite as big as the other two, but sizeable nonetheless.

Reggie looked to his mother for assurance then walked slowly over to take the box. He sat down and lifted the lid, with a little help from his mother. He lifted the truck out. He turned it round in his hands and smiled.

"Truck!" he declared, "big truck!"

"Oh, goodness," Dot breathed, "it's lovely, what do you say, Reggie?"

The little boy put the truck down and ran over to Margaret, wrapped his arms round her knees and lay his head down, "ta!" he giggled.

Margaret laughed and ruffled his fair curls, "you are welcome, Reggie, most welcome."

Mr Butler chose that minute to bring a tray of tea in. Dot turned to go and fetch the rest of the refreshments, small sandwiches, scones with preserve and cream, small cakes and biscuits. Glasses of milk were provided for the children, and lastly Mr Butler brought in the three small stools the children used when sitting at a side table in the parlour.

"Lovely, thank you Mr Butler," Phryne smiled, she was a tad peckish, it being nearly three hours since lunch which had been light, and she found she was rather hungry after feeding Bassie.

Henry raised his eyebrows at the children eating in the parlour but Margaret remarked on their lovely table manners, though she did wonder if she would have done the same when Phryne and Janey were the same age, if they had been living this well. They were allowed a sandwich, a cake and a biscuit, Phryne said it was to ensure they would not spoil their dinner.

"They're not eating with us, surely?" Henry grumbled.

"The will eat earlier, in the kitchen," Phryne wiped some cream off William's nose, "Aunt Prudence is joining us."

"Oh, lovely," Margaret looked pleased, "isn't it, Henry?" she nudged her husband.

"Just grand."

Phryne noticed her father was not exactly the happiest of men this afternoon, he had barely said a word, except the one curt remark to Polly, which had annoyed her. Perhaps when she gave Bassie his next feed she could get her mother to join her and see what it was that was upsetting him, aside from the lack of cigars and that he had not been offered whisky. Her mother hadn't said there was anything bothering him, in her letters. Perhaps he had run out of 'pocket money'.

When the children had eaten their fill, Dot took them into the back parlour together with their new toys.

"Thank you, Dot," Phryne nodded, "when they have had dinner I shall bath William and Polly and you can get off to put Reggie to bed."

"Thank you, miss," Dot smiled, "their pyjamas are under their pillows."

"Lovely," Phryne smiled.

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The Baron and Baroness headed back to the hotel to change for dinner, and to let Phryne see to the children, though Margaret was determined to return early enough to see how her daughter coped with bathing two small children and putting them to bed. That would mean leaving Henry in the parlour with access to the whisky decanter, but she thought she could have a quiet word with the inestimable Mr Butler. Phryne was really lucky with her staff, to find someone like Mr Butler, she had been extremely lucky; and Dot, who was such a sweet girl.

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"Bit early to be gettin' ready, isn't it?" Henry grumbled.

"I want to see Phryne bathing the children," Margaret frowned, "I can't believe how easily she has taken to motherhood."

"Phht!" Henry blew out, "four! I sometimes think she has taken leave of her senses."

"Now Henry," she huffed, "I admire her, and she can afford it. I've never seen her so happy and at ease. The children are lovely, so well behaved, and remember, William and Jane are adopted, well Jane is her ward, it takes someone special to take on two children like that."

"Still, an' all" he muttered on, "how long will it last, this domesticity, before she gets bored, eh? Then what?"

"I doubt there is any chance of that," Margaret shrugged, "now, get changed, your dinner suit is ready for you, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour, especially in front of Prudence; don't drink too much."

"Margaret!" he snapped, "I am not a child to be disciplined ..."

"Stop behaving like a surly teenager, then," she straightened her shoulders and headed to have a quick bath and change into her evening gown.

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"Come on you two," Phryne let the water out of the bath tub and lifted each child out, wrapping them in warm soft towels, "then into the nursery and I'll read to you while I feed Bassie and you can snuggle down into bed.

Bath time had been full of laughter, bubbles had been piled on the children's heads and water had splashed over the side onto the thick mat. Usually Jack would arrive in time to read to them after their bath but he was running a little late. He hoped to make it, but would be back in time for dinner. William and Polly had been allowed to speak to him, over the phone, and made him promise to go and kiss them goodnight if he was too late to read to them.

Margaret arrived in time to help put the two older children to bed and had offered to read to them while Phryne sat in the nursing chair and fed Bassie. She had forgotten how her mother read stories when she was Polly's age and the children sat entranced as their grandmother put on silly voices for each of the characters in the Brer Rabbit story she read. When she had finished she tucked them up and kissed their foreheads.

"Good night, sweethearts," she murmured, "sleep tight."

William had only just been able to stay awake and was asleep before her lips left his forehead, Polly was nearly asleep but managed to wish her grandmother goodnight and mumble a second thank you for the doll.

She smiled and left them snug and warm.

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Phryne had slipped out of the nursery to change Bassie and settle him in his bassinet while her mother finished the story. She knew the children would be quite content with their grandmother and she needed to change for dinner. She would like to bathe too, but with time being short it would have to be a short bath or shower. She opted for the bath and tipped in a good quantity of jasmine bath crystals before dropping her clothes into the laundry basket and wrapping a robe round her. Dot had put out her underwear and the green velvet dress with the organza overlay. It was one of Jack's favourites, the one she had worn the night they had told Aunt Prudence they were married at Gretna Green and were already expecting Polly. It disguised her post pregnancy figure well, in fact she had even worn it when expecting Bassie.

"Phryne?" her mother's voice floated through, "can I come in?"

"I'm in the bath, mother!" she called back, cheerfully, "shan't be long."

"I'll wait, the babies are asleep," Margaret sat on the bed and fingered the embroidery on the organza.

"Oh, alright," in the bath Phryne wondered if her mother wanted to talk about her father, she certainly would like to find out if there was anything going on.

She finished the bath and dried off with a soft towel before donning the robe again and heading out into the bedroom.

"Mother," she nodded picking up her underwear and stepping behind the screen, so rarely used these days.

"Darling," Margaret smiled, "you really do look tremendously well."

"Thank you," the disembodied voice floated over, "I thought you looked in good health today."

"I am," Margaret agreed, "very well. It's your father I'm worried about."

"I did wonder, he was particularly grumpy today, and rather curt with Polly."

"Yes, I'm sorry about that, I don't know what's got into him lately."

"Still drinking?"

"Heavily, I told him to cut it down, but of course he ignores me."

Phryne rolled her stockings up and clipped them to the suspenders before lifting her silk slip, and dropping it over her head. She stood next to the bed and looked down at her mother, now with a worried frown on her face.

"I asked Mr Butler to keep the whisky out of the parlour, do you mind?" she continued.

"Not at all, help me with this dress will you, please?"

Margaret held the dress so it could be slipped over Phryne's head and fastened the clips for her, then held the organza 'coat' for her to slip into.

"Thank you, and the cigars?"

"Pardon?"

"Father's cigars, did you manage to drop them overboard?"

Margaret laughed, "sadly, no. But I have told him he is not to smoke them in your house."

"Good, Bassie makes enough smells without father adding to them," she huffed. "Seriously though, mother," she moved over to do her make-up and hair, "he's developing a drinker's nose, all red veins, and his hair is thinning."

"I've tried to get him to see a doctor, but he won't; claims he's fine and I am fussing."

"Does he still take that nerve tonic?"

"Nerve tonic, ha!" Margaret snorted, "I'm sure it's just his word for another drink, probably very strong alcohol."

"Right, well, I'll see if I can get Mac on the case. Can you get me some of the tonic, I'll have her analyse the contents?"

"I suppose so." Margaret thought, "perhaps if I come over to you tomorrow, on the pretence of a shopping trip - he won't want to join us - I could bring it then."

"Lovely. Oh," she looked round as the door opened, "Jack!" she held her arms out, "you're back."

"Sweetheart," he strode across the room and bent to kiss her, full on the lips, then stood up. "My apologies, good evening, Lady Margaret, how lovely to see you."

"Jack, dear," she accepted a kiss to the cheek and returned it, "it's lovely to be here, I must congratulate you on the birth of your son, he's lovely."

"Thank you, I'm sorry I wasn't here this afternoon, a case, you know."

"Anything I can help with, darling?" Phryne tipped her head and opened her eyes wide, giving that innocent look that nearly always got him into trouble of some kind.

"Not yet, Miss Fisher," he teased, "perhaps I can discuss it with you tomorrow."

"Alright," she smiled, now was not the time to delve deeply into some gruesome murder or audacious theft.

"I'll just change," Jack slipped off his jacket and tie, "then I'll join you downstairs. I take it the children are asleep?"

"Their Grandmother read to them and tucked them up tight."

"I hope they behaved," he smiled.

"They were little angels," Margaret laughed.

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In the parlour Prudence and Henry were sitting looking daggers at each other. Well, Prudence was, and Henry just glared back. Violet had greeted Prudence but on seeing the look Henry gave his sister in law had made her excuses and gone to help Mr Butler.

Mr Butler offered Mrs Stanley a sherry but, to Henry's surprise did not offer to refill his glass with whisky, and the first measure had been small. He looked in the glass then round the room to see if he could spy the decanter but it was nowhere to be seen so he placed his glass, noisily, on a side table and reached for the paper.

Prudence sipped her sherry and watched him. He was not the perky, devil may care man she was used to arguing with. He seemed sullen, his hair was thinner than she remembered, dull and flat, and his eyes no longer sparkled with his usual cheek. In one of her letters, Margaret had remarked she was worried about him but he refused to see a doctor. Perhaps Phryne could arrange for that doctor friend of hers to give him the once over. The door opened and she smiled at her sister and niece.

"Prudence, darling," Margaret went over to her, "how lovely to see you, you look wonderful!"

"So do you, dear," Prudence and Margaret kissed, "picture of health." She turned to Phryne, "and how are you, Phryne?"

"Marvellous Aunt P, absolutely marvellous," Phryne grinned.

"And our little man?" Prudence looked into the bundle Phryne had in her arms.

"Doing wonderfully," Phryne passed him over.

"I'm sure I see more of Jack than you, dear," Prudence stroked the top of his head.

"Oh definitely," Phryne laughed, "he's so much calmer than I am, a very easy baby."

"I still have to pinch myself, sometimes, to be sure I'm not dreaming," Mrs Stanley laughed.

"As do I," Margaret agreed.

"And you, Henry," Prudence decided to draw her, hitherto, silent brother in law into the conversation, "how do you feel now that Phryne had provided the family with an heir?"

"Huh," he grunted, "she'll soon get bored."

Phryne growled, "I'm not like you, father," she hissed, "and their father will not take a belt to them or lock them in a cupboard to break their spirit. We love our children, all of them."

"Henry!" Margaret snapped, "that was uncalled for!"

Jack chose that moment to join them for pre-dinner drinks and couldn't fail to notice the frosty air in the room. Phryne had tears in her eyes and Margaret and Prudence looked furiously at Henry.

'Oh dear', he thought, 'the Baron's put his foot in it, again.'

"Now then," he kissed Phryne on the cheek, "I hope you've all had a better day than me."

"Yes, yes we have, Jack, thank you," Prudence turned and smiled at him, "I had a letter from Guy and Isabella today, they are coming over for a visit next month."

"Ooh good," Phryne brightened immediately, Margaret stared at her, she knew Phryne regarded Isabella as a bit of, what she referred to as, an 'airhead'. "I must introduce them to William and Bassie."

"Well, there's still no sign of them producing a grandchild for me," Prudence huffed, "so, when they do come over you must bring the family, Phryne, show them the merits of children."

"I am determined to have them hold one of them," Phryne laughed, "Isabella always had her hands full last time, if you remember, Aunt P, and Guy seemed to think I had lost my mind."

"Perhaps they could be godparents," Margaret suggested.

"Actually, mother," Phryne took a drink off the tray Mr Butler had appeared carrying, "I was thinking of asking Jacob, for one of the godfathers and Emily Dunstan for his godmother, but I haven't thought of a second godfather yet."

"Oh," Margaret frowned, "Jacob?"

"Jacob Robertson, the boy who gave me Bodgy all those years ago. He owns a sheep farm over Jamieson way, now," Phryne smiled, "he and his wife have five children now, the last one only a year ago, a little girl they named Dorothy, I'm her godmother."

"Five!" spluttered Henry, "dear god!"

"Yes, three boys and two girls, the other girl is called Phryne." Phryne the elder laughed. "They are good kind people, who also took in two little boys that had lost their parents."

"They are strong and sensible," Jack added, "I think Jacob is a good choice and I'm sure we'll think of someone else."

Mr Butler entered the room and informed them that dinner was served.

"Lovely, thank you, Mr B," Phryne took Bassie from his great aunt and set him safely in the cradle, "where's Violet?"

"Mrs Robinson thought you might want some time with the Baron and Baroness, Miss, she insisted on helping me." Mr Butler smiled, he rather liked the Inspector's mother helping in the kitchen.

"Oh, right," Phryne pursed her lips, she supposed it was polite of Violet, "well that was very kind of her, she will join us, though, I hope."

"Yes, Miss, that is her intention."

"Good."

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With good food and wine in him, Henry began to be more like the man everybody remembered. He laughed and agreed with most of what was said, and flirted with Violet, which earned him a discreet, but noticeable frown from Mr Butler. Violet took it all in her stride but Phryne noticed that when Mr B took her mother in law's plate their hands touched, briefly. She had wondered, occasionally, but hadn't said anything to her husband. She wasn't sure how she felt about a relationship between her mother in law and a member of her household staff. Prudence would probably frown upon it, but she wasn't her aunt and everyone had the right to find love where they could, and how would Jack feel about it? Now was not the time to ponder such ideas, she reminded herself as Jack called her name.

"Daydreaming, Phryne?" he laughed.

"Sorry, miles away, tell you later," and so she set in motion the conversation she would have to have with him.

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Margaret and Henry took their leave when Phryne went upstairs to feed Bassie. It had been a most enjoyable evening, in the end, they told her.

"Why don't you come over tomorrow, mother," Phryne set the idea for some of her father's nerve tonic to be analysed, "I want to go and see if I can get some more suitable clothes for Bassie, and Jane is coming home from her trip to Sydney."

"What has she been doing there?" Margaret had wondered where the girl was, thinking she was busy with her friends, she was at that age, she supposed.

"She found out there were a series of science lectures and she and a couple of other girls and a teacher managed to get tickets. Mac said it was a good idea, given she wants to go into medicine."

"She is so lucky you took her in, dear," Margaret smiled, "so bright and strong. I bought her a book, I think I left it in the parlour, not medical but Ancient History, I hope she will like it."

Jane soaks up knowledge like a sponge, mother," Phryne laughed, "I'm sure she will love it."

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Bassie settled for, hopefully, the night, Jack and Phryne took the opportunity to cuddle and kiss and discuss the evening. They talked about her father, how he only came alive when he had been fed and watered. Phryne rolled her eyes.

"Darling," Jack nibbled her earlobe, "I don't know how to say this, but ... well ... I'd rather your father didn't flirt with my mother." There, it was out, he had noticed.

"Oh, you saw that," Phryne tipped her head to give him better access to her neck, "I don't think Mr B was too impressed either."

"Whenever she rings he is one of the first people she asks after," he smiled, "and they do spend a lot of time together, in the kitchen."

"Do you mind?"

"My mother knows her own mind," Jack shrugged, "I am not her father, Phryne, but if she should fall, I will be there to catch her."

"I don't think Mr B would hurt her, certainly not intentionally, and they are old enough to know what they are doing."

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Violet smiled as she turned out the light. Tobias had never touched her before, but the sly touch to her hand when Lord Fisher flirted with her had sent shivers down her spine. He was such a dear.