Chapter 14

November 1927

The wind was whipping up outside; it could be heard rattling the windows in their frames, ever so slightly. The cottage was due a few checks. Something for another day, he considered; it was far too late an hour now, and while the thoughts would probably keep him awake in so many hours he was willing to surrender them for the time being.

The fire that he had tended to glowed in the hearth, burning down gradually to its last embers. He reckoned there was another half-hour or so left in it yet. Feeling cosy, well-sheltered against what sounded to be a rather fierce storm ahead, he wiggled his toes inside his slippers. His eyes were growing heavier, and he hadn't even realised he had closed them until he became aware, after some seconds had passed, that the slowly dancing amber and orange shades occupying his vision had been replaced by blankness.

He jolted himself without moving within the armchair, ever aware of the warm bundle weighing down his arms. They were aching with the concentrated effort of staying as still as he was physically able. She was getting heavier; well, they both were. All perfectly normal, Doctor Clarkson had assured them at the last check-up. They had been much smaller than William had been when they were born, which was understandable in a way. There had been no reason to fret, as nature had taken its course, and nobody would have guessed at the difference now.

The smile was immovable from his lips as he gazed down, blinking the encroaching sleep away from his eyes and taking in the perfect features of the face that peeked out of the blanket that was keeping her little body snug and warm. His precious daughter. His darling Emma. He still could not fathom how wonderful she was, would consider himself truly fulfilled if he were to spend the rest of his life cradling her just so. Her eyelids opened slowly, revealing irises that were almost the hue of hyacinths in this low light. She murmured after a second or two, coming to recognise him once more. That moment never failed to take him by marvellous surprise and hold him in such delight.

"Hello, beautiful girl," he uttered gently, adjusting one arm against the other carefully, tilting Emma up just slightly. Her eyes were wider now as she looked at him, her little rosebud of a mouth shifting its expression, each one different than the last or any other that had come before.

He knew that he wasn't imagining it when he noted the small smile there, a replica of one that he had known for years.

"You are the most beautiful in all of the land. Yes, you are."

Her little legs were wriggling in her playsuit, feet against the crook of his elbow, and he chuckled at her apparent pleasure at such a title being bestowed upon her.

One of a pair. Two of them, as perfect as one another.

"Along with your sister, of course," he affirmed, and Emma was not affronted. "And both of you have your beauty from your mama. Yes, your mama is entirely to thank for that."

Like their older brother, the girls did indeed take after Anna; wisps of fair hair dusting their heads, big blue eyes keen to take everything of the world surrounding them in. She had earnestly questioned him about whether he was disappointed, if only a little and knowing it wasn't the right word for the feeling she was attempting to encapsulate. He had understood what she meant but could honestly say that he was not aggrieved in any way about their children's lack of physical resemblance to him. It was what he had always dreamt of – even before he had any right to dream; that any children they should have be like her in every way possible.

He hadn't lost out completely. The older that their son, their ever-precious firstborn, grew the more he was picking up on his father's mannerisms. John would often find William gazing up at him in wonder, or with a fixed expression as they sat side by side, concentration written all over his little face as he sought to copy each movement of his Da. The swell of pride never failed to surge in his chest at his son's attempts, feeling himself worthy in the eyes of his children and wife. As much as he relished being Will's number one role model – a title that was full of honour, indeed – he wished to be his best friend most of all. Turning the really quite serious look on his little face to one that could barely contain his glee as he received a series of tickles was one of John's proudest achievements to date. Anna was just as pleased once she had discovered what all of the commotion was about, finding the two Bates boys nearly flat out on the sofa and tired by their combined laughter.

John lifted Emma, standing her upright with her feet in his lap and bouncing her gently, making her coo as he did so. He chuckled to himself as he thought on the first few weeks after the girls were born and what a whirlwind it had been at times. Anna had called it a surprise – that was something of an understatement. They had only prepared for one new baby and as such it had been a bit of a scrabble to get everything in order. The girls had no shortage of clothes or comforters – indeed, they seemed to own most of what was in the cottage between them.

Double the babies meant double the work. It could have been much more of a struggle, they could have been much more difficult than they were, but once again they had been blessed. It was by no means plain sailing and much had needed to be adapted to, for Anna most of all as a new mother all over again. He was overcome with admiration for her, how she coped with the apparently endless feeds and demands of two little girls whom she doted on. There was nothing new in him being amazed by her but still he felt the power of it lifting him, as well as the love that had multiplied within their household. He himself had wished to be surrounded by children not too long ago and as the dream became reality he could not complain about it, not for a single moment.

It might not have been what they had planned but they had always got by before, and any tribulations they faced now were thankfully much happier to deal with.

They always had one another to lean upon and to share the load. He readily admitted to feeling shamed that he couldn't do more and had been ready more than once to give his resignation to his Lordship, knowing that Anna was struggling despite her claims to the contrary. She was the one who prevented him in doing so, saying that they could do with the extra money for a little longer and insisting that she was perfectly fine to soldier on – not that he ever had any doubt in her abilities. Both the Tripps and Mrs Collins were always eager to offer a helping hand or several and they had not been short in visitors from the Abbey either, when working schedules would permit.

Anyone would have been hard-pressed to find parents that were more brimming with pride than the two of them, and the feelings had radiated to each of their neighbours and guests. The amount of love in the Bates household was unmistakable. Which meant that it was very easy to overlook the few times that either one of them – and both, on a couple of occasions – had confused one daughter for the other on introducing the pair of them to someone the girls had never met before. Thinking back, John could chuckle about it now. It's not as though it had been hard to do. To avoid such embarrassment they had at one stage taken to dressing Emma in pink and Charlotte in cream, but thankfully such measures hadn't needed to be employed for very long.

In many ways the girls were like peas-in-a-pod, sharing so much in common. Yet they had their own distinct personalities too, which were emerging stronger with every day that passed. Emma was the quieter of the pair, contemplative and always observing. Even now John found himself being drawn in, both of them fascinated in equal measure as they stared at one another, happy to bask in the blissful quiet. Charlotte had a livelier nature, not quite what could be called boisterous but certainly playful and inquisitive. By design she seemed to be the more sociable of the two, never complaining when she was passed around into the arms of virtual strangers, always finding something to keep her amused.

Emma turned her head, letting out an agitated mewl, searching for her sister. As much as it discomforted John to know that any of their children were in distress it also warmed his heart to think on the fact that the girls didn't like to be apart for very long. Of course, that may well change when they weren't as tiny as they were now.

"Shhh, my darling," he said in a hushed tone, holding his daughter close to his chest as he rose from the comfort of his armchair. "Lottie's not far away. Look, she's with Mama."

Emma attempted to look for herself, but couldn't quite see until he sat them both down on the settee in the seat next to Anna's side. He gazed from one daughter to the other, Charlotte content in her mother's arms, the peaceful one for a change. John could see that she was drifting into sleep, her tiny fingers flexing just a little against her blanket and making soft murmurs. The picture of tranquillity all wrapped up and safe, and just as beautiful as her slightly older sister, by the matter of mere minutes.

His devoted gaze drifted upwards, a loving smile filling his face as he took in the sight of Anna, a shawl wrapped about her shoulders to keep out any remnants of chill. While her arms had not slackened, holding on to Charlotte securely, her chin had drooped near enough to her chest and, as he lowered his own head to get a better look, he saw that her eyes were indeed closed.

Emma's gurgles close by were what roused her, the expression on her face a little startled. She smiled down at the daughter that wasn't in her arms in the absence of being able to reach out and touch her, John angling her that bit closer. Any passing qualms had disappeared, each one of them relaxed and contented. Anna's eyes were glazed with the starting of sleep and John found himself smiling fondly towards her.

"It's my fault for waking her," he said, Emma's big blue eyes staring up at them both. "She was getting to the same state not that long ago."

"Hmmm," Anna mumbled, adjusting the now soundly sleeping Charlotte against her chest, "s'okay."

He got to his feet again slowly, his hands full with the daughter he had current possession of. Craning his head down he placed a kiss to the crown of his wife's head, wanting to cherish her as much as she deserved.

"I'll take her to get settled," he bounced Emma gently in his arms before settling her to his side, "and I can check in on Will, too. You just concentrate on getting up the stairs."

If he had an extra pair of arms he would have taken Charlotte too. Anna looked utterly exhausted, though her cheeks were ruddy, glowing healthily from the fire that had burned well throughout the evening.

Luckily it didn't take that long to sort, not even needing to resort to one of William's storybooks to see things right. Emma was out like a light after he had rocked her towards slumber for a few minutes, and he kissed her little forehead before laying her down next to Charlotte, the two peas reunited for the night. Will had been nothing to worry about either, clutching onto his oldest and dearest teddy bear and with the smallest hint of a smile upon his cherubic face. No doubt dreaming of many wonderful things.

To his surprise when he got to their bedroom Anna was not tucked up underneath the sheets but instead sitting on the edge of the bed. She blinked to him and he went over to her, slipping the shawl from her shoulders and offering his hands, helping her to get changed from her day clothes into her nightgown.

She shook her head as he did up the buttons at her neck. "I just haven't the energy."

"You don't need to make an excuse, love," he assured her, looking into her tired eyes as she lifted her chin towards him, her arms slipping about his middle.

He saw her into bed before he changed into his pyjamas, turning out the little lamp at the bedside and climbing in quickly, the whistle of the wind getting louder outside the window.

Her head pillowed against the crook of his neck almost immediately and he smiled in contentment, pulling her closer with an arm around her waist.

"We're doing alright, aren't we?" she mumbled, her eyes close to closing as he turned his head upon the pillow to look at her.

He pursed his lips, nodding his head in agreement even though she couldn't see him doing so.

"More than that," he uttered in a low tone, not wanting to disturb her now that she was able to fall into peaceful sleep after a long day.

He was quite sure that she wouldn't have heard him as she succumbed so quickly, but he gave the affirmation regardless.

"You're doing wonderfully, my love."


December 1927

As was usual, Anna was up and sitting at the kitchen table when he came downstairs. She cradled Emma in her arms as she nursed her, soothing a hand at her little back whilst she took her fill. Charlotte had already been fed and cooed from the carrying cot on the table-top up at John as he snuck a hand in, tickling her tummy and causing her to giggle.

"Mumma!" William was sitting in his highchair, banging the end of the spoon he was holding against the wooden surface. "Hungry, Mumma!"

"I won't be long, sweet pea," Anna said, stroking Emma's downy head at her breast.

John intervened, walking around to where their son was perched up high, still tapping out a steady rhythm upon the table-top.

"No need for that, lad," he said sagely, pretending to scold but knowing it was useless when his boy looked up at him with his innocent eyes. With a gentle hand he prised the spoon from William's grip, ruffling a hand through his thick sandy hair. "What's say I cook you up some porridge while Mummy is busy seeing to your sisters, eh?"

He flashed a smile towards Anna, her shoulders sagging in relief.

"I should have started on his breakfast earlier, but these two just couldn't wait this morning."

John gave her a look to affirm that she needn't make any excuses whatsoever for her actions, while William frowned.

Anna let out a laugh at the vaguely disgruntled expression on their son's face, sitting Emma up in her lap and wiping the excess milk from her tiny mouth.

"You like porridge, don't you, sweet pea?"

Will tipped his head to the side in contemplative thought before raising both of his arms high in the air.

"Want dippy egg!" he shrieked, loud enough to wake the neighbours. It was a good job they were all early risers, like their own household.

"That's not enough to keep you warm," John argued playfully, already having got out the porridge mix and set the pans on the stove. "It's getting colder, you need some heating in that tummy of yours."

Though he was a clever little boy indeed he didn't quite comprehend the extent of the somewhat sophisticated argument that his father offered.

"What if we put a big dollop of strawberry jam in it?"

That particular compromise seemed to sweeten the deal, and when he was presented with the bowl in front of him John had to move quickly to prevent Will from snapping it up and causing an accident, blowing on the portion that he heaped onto the spoon before it went near his son's mouth.

"Some for you, too." He placed another bowl in front of Anna, scooping Emma up into his arms to allow his wife to enjoy a breakfast uninterrupted.

She smiled up at him, a look of quiet grace upon her face in the middle of the happy morning chaos.

"Thank you," she said, both of her hands going around the bowl. "Don't I get any jam?"

He couldn't help but grin towards her, eyes crinkling at the corners as he brought the jar to the table.

"I would have thought that you were sweet enough as it is."

Ten minutes didn't go by until she was on her feet again, giving the kitchen a quick tidy and taking a restless William out of his highchair, allowing him to toddle back into the front room. John wished that she would slow down a little bit, but he was aware that he fussed too much as it was. He had always marvelled at the apparently boundless amounts of energy that she had within that petite frame of hers but now that she was surviving on even less sleep than she was used to in her days as a maid he found it quite unbelievable.

She let out a loud gasp as she hitched Charlotte onto her hip, and he frowned in concern.

"I didn't realise that was the time," she explained, the exasperation clear in her eyes. "Nearly half eight already. Where is the morning going?"

"There's no rush, is there?"

As they faced one another the girls cooed and reached out to each other, tiny hands pressing together.

She sighed. "I suppose not. But I was planning on going into Ripon today. Christmas is only a couple of weeks away, and we've barely a thing sorted."

They looked at the girls, mesmerised in their own little world, not aware of seasons or such significant occasions at such a tender age.

"I haven't even got them dressed yet, never mind myself."

He brushed a hand at her arm, cupping her shoulder.

"It's my half-day today, and his Lordship told me not to bother going up until dinner time. I can go instead, and take the girls with me, if you give me a list of the things you'd like."

The colour flooded back into her cheeks as she exhaled a relieved breath.

"I'd forgotten you were off. Honestly, I don't know whether I'm coming or going these days."

He shook his head lovingly, chuckling.

"I think it's perfectly understandable, keeping up with these tykes."

Anna pressed a kiss to Charlotte's cheek, reaching out to hold both the girls' little hands with one of her own.

"Don't you two give your Daddy too much trouble now," she said, before Will's happy shouting had her running from the kitchen to see what he found so fascinating.

John smiled at both of his daughters, Charlotte gazing up at him from the carry-cot and Emma from his arms.

"We'll have an adventure, won't we, girls?"

The girls seemed to understand, bobbing their heads with blinking blue eyes.

"We'll have to keep some things a surprise for Mummy, though."


He was terrible at concealing the truth from Anna, even in the far happier circumstances they found themselves in since they had started their family. The fabrication he had settled upon to ensure that she would come up to the Abbey with him for another evening shift – that Miss Daniels had stained one of Lady Mary's favourite dresses almost beyond repair – neither explained why Anna might want to wear one of her own preferred frocks nor why it was necessary that the children come along with them and not be dropped off at either the Tripps' or Mrs Collins' residence. Also from past and unfortunately first-hand experience, he did not wish to cast poor Miss Daniels in a less-than-favourable light.

Anna's face was a picture – albeit a most enchantingly beautiful one – from the moment he had divulged. In passing moments, hints of irritation floated over her expression – quickly dispersed – and he was vaguely concerned that she might give him a smack.

If she didn't want to kiss him so much she could burst.

She echoed his phrase of "Christmas come early" in varying quizzical tones as she got herself ready and he insisted upon dressing the children, her puzzlement making his very heart smile. She took William into her arms, adjusting the collar on his miniature shirt and dusting down his trousers while John held the girls with one arm each.

"Don't think you can get round me that easily," she said, her brow furrowing faintly as she looked down towards the settee.

"You look marvellous," he replied, in a tone that defined almost perfect innocence.

He watched her cheeks colour and her gaze dip down to the floor, and once more felt confirmed as the luckiest man on the earth. She wore a pale blue dress that she had fashioned partly with her own fair hands, sewing satin panels into the skirt and modest lace at the neckline.

William murmured his approval at his Mumma's appearance too, his hands prodding at the lace.

She was still reprimanding him as they all boarded the car, driven over by Mr Adams and waiting outside the cottage patiently. Before he secured the door behind them John had seen Mrs Tripp at the window, doing her utmost not to make her curtain-twitching appear too obvious.

"I hope you haven't put Mrs Hughes out, not when it's not needed," Anna whispered to John, keen for the chauffeur not to overhear as he drove them towards the big house. She kept one hand steadying William as he clambered about on the leather seat, fascinated by the journey. "She has so much to think of already, especially at this time of year."

John looked at her with a smile glowing in his eyes, aware of what would be lying in wait.

"If you must know, it was half her idea." He smiled down at Charlotte, who was wriggling against his arms – a contrast to Emma, who was still with her back snugged in the crook of Anna's elbow. "Though I'm certain you won't be as cross with her as you are with me."

She shook her head, the newly shining moonlight falling through the window and across her features. "I'm not cross with either of you. But especially not you. I just didn't expect..."

He intervened, standing Charlotte up in his lap as she was getting increasingly restless.

"I know how much you love Christmas." She always had, even when the season of cheer and goodwill had been anything but to them. "And I don't want you to feel pressure this year. You deserve another Christmas Day, just to enjoy."

She beamed as Charlotte gave a squeal, attempting to encourage her sister, whilst William tugged on the skirt of her coat, wanting her to look at the same view he had.

"And for them, too."

John mirrored her smile, looking around at their three very different but equally loved children.

"Of course."

He thought he knew what to expect but was taken aback himself on seeing how the servants' hall had been festooned, treating them as if they were guests of the highest honour. Mrs Patmore had outdone herself preparing all of the essential ingredients for the early Christmas dinner in their abundance. The turkey wasn't quite as big as the one served up to the family, but it was more than enough to go around the gathered guests. William sat like a king at the head of the table – and was crowned as such by a hat from one of the crackers plucked from the decorations – propped on Mrs Hughes's knee. He had a small plate to himself, and Anna and John beamed with joy as he cleaned almost everything on it. The girls missed most of the celebrations, choosing to sleep instead, but the loving smiles Anna offered spoke volumes. Perhaps they would make this something of a tradition, celebrating the holiday a little bit before it arrived with the people who were still very much an extended family to them.

Lord knows he wouldn't have exchanged any part of their life now for anything else, yet he was glad to feel a sense of nostalgia come over him, remembering the happier of seasons that had passed in the very same place. Anna being by his side for all of them.

They were left in their old seats, able to share a moment to themselves as Mr Barrow took William to see the grand Grantham Christmas tree, as majestic as ever and perhaps even bearing a gift for a special little boy at its foot, and Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore took a twin each, smiling fondly at them.

"I'll be perfectly happy if we have bread and butter for Christmas Day proper," John announced. Indeed the Christmas pudding had been so rich that it was likely it would see him right well towards next Christmas.

"You might have no other option."

He smiled easily at his wife, glad that he had been able to indulge her.

She sighed, stretching a hand across her stomach – this time full from the feast they had partaken in. "It may not be what we had imagined at the beginning of the year, but I think it might just be the happiest Christmas ever."

"I quite agree," he said, glancing at their daughters, sleeping soundly in the arms of their adopted grandmothers, and then looking up towards the ceiling. "Well, I never."

The sprig of mistletoe hung in the space above both of their heads, fixed quite cleverly in that particular spot.

His eyes twinkled as they fell back upon her, smiling as she broke into giggles.

"I suppose that was one thing you arranged?" she questioned him.

"Quite specifically," he replied with a cheeky smirk. "What is Christmas without it, after all?"

Anna shook her head in amusement before shifting her seat closer to his. The tingles still ran through him in anticipation, much as they always would, building to a peak as she brushed her hand to his cheek.

"You never need the excuse, Mr Bates."


A/N: A little early for Christmas, I know, but I couldn't resist. What a Christmas it would be with so many Baby Bateses!