"I quit!"

The nanny's words didn't come as a shock to Evangeline or Mrs. Blatherwick (who had been at her wit's end with the children even before Nanny Kent was hired — so much so she'd made Mr. Brown sign a contract to keep the lot of them out of her kitchen before any damage could be done). It had been clear from the start that none of the children got on with the woman. Though kind, she was more strict than the kids were used to with their mother and now Evangeline. Under different circumstances, the maid might've had less sympathy. They were still grieving and Aggie had entered her phase of crying through the night. She'd finally taken the baby to her room the past couple of nights to give poor Mr. Brown a break especially. They were all on edge. Nanny Kent could have been more thoughtful about the situation. Then again, Evangeline wouldn't much care to wake up to a mouse in her bed, either.

"How am I going to tell Mr. Brown?" Evangeline asked cook as she hurriedly ate her lunch.

"Tell 'im his spoiled offspring have had reign of this 'ouse for far too long."

"They're not spoiled."

Mrs. Blatherwick scoffed.

"They're just… confused right now."

"I tell ya, they weren't much better when Mrs. Brown was alive. She catered to their every whim."

"That's not so bad," Evangeline said. "They're only children. I quite like that they've been spared a bad lot. Not that losing Mrs. Brown isn't tragic, but they're still allowed to be young and without responsibility."

"Kids don't have to be sent to the work 'ouse to make use of some manners. Selfish husbands and entitled wives they'll turn out to be."

"That's getting far ahead, isn't it?"

"Too far so long as they keep up the same games as this morning."

Taking the final bit of her sandwich, Evangeline said, "If you ask me, they're only acting so naughty because they feel Mr. Brown is trying to replace their mother. Doesn't help he's held himself up in his study so much."

Mrs. Blatherwick muttered something under her breath which Evangeline chose not to question. Wiping her hands on her apron, she thanked the cook for her meal, and went to see what the children had gotten themselves into. She was fairly certain she'd heard a thud not too long ago…

. . .

The rest of the day carried on with the same chaos. Tora and Simon argued, Lily and Sebastian argued, and Chrissie had a newfound fascination with Aggie, trying to pick her up and carry her like one of her dolls. With her focus on the other kids and having to keep the baby with her at all times while she did her chores, she hadn't noticed that Eric was quite literally brewing something in the yard. Had she not stepped outside to shake the dust from her broom and rags, she wouldn't have smelled the smoke.

"It's a potion," he explained. "You boil different plants in water. Witches have done it for centuries."

"You're not a witch, Eric," Evangeline scolded. "If you wanted a spot of tea you should have asked me or cook for a pot. You should know better than to play with fire, especially without your father or someone to take care it's contained."

"If I waited for him, I'd never be able to try the experiment."

Evangeline sighed, softening her voice. "I know he hasn't been around much. He would if he could."

"How many letters can one person possibly have to write each night?"

"There's been a lot more mail than usual. Condolences and all. Your father is a polite man. I'm sure he's giving a thoughtful reply to them all."

"Yeah, well," he said, dumping the contents in his makeshift caldron onto the embers. "I think it's more he doesn't want to be around us."

"He loves you. He loves all of you."

"That doesn't mean he wants to be around us."

She knew she couldn't argue the point. She'd been hinting at this for weeks now. But she couldn't very well say so to the child. Instead, she shifted the subject. "What is this you were trying to brew, anyhow?"

"A health potion," he answered.

"A health potion? Is one of you feeling ill?"

"No, but maybe by the time someone is, I'll have perfected it. I've read this book before. Maybe I could have saved Mama."

Crouching down to meet his eye level, Evangeline put her hands on his shoulders. "That's very sweet of you… but I'm afraid sometimes illness isn't as simple as a magic cure. Your mother…"

Cedric had been so careful in explaining Mrs. Brown's death. While the children knew it coincided with Aggie's birth, she wasn't sure how well they understood the gravity. The last thing any of them needed was resentment towards the baby. Especially not when she was the one source of joy in the house for all of them.

"You're a thoughtful boy," she said instead. "You might make a good doctor one day."

"You think so?"

She nodded. "But with proper medicine. Not with these witch's brews as you say."

"Books never lie," Eric insisted.

Standing up straight again, Evangeline took his hand and started leading him into the house. She wondered if that was really true. Not that it made any difference to her. "Books sound like wonderful things."

. . .

By the late afternoon, the children had calmed down considerably, at least most of them. Simon was in a mood and Chrissie refused to speak to Evangeline on account of her not letting her play with Aggie. The baby was none too thrilled about being around the house along with the maid, already fussy from multiple interrupted naps that day.

As Evangeline dusted the children's room (or attempted to with only one arm available), she spotted Lily perched on the windowsill with a book in her lap. The sight made her smile. Lily was as well-read as Eric, though somehow her books didn't lead to experimentation around the house.

"What book is it this time?" Evangeline asked.

"Pride and Prejudice," answered Lily. "It's lovely. Once I finish I'll have read it three times."

"That's quite impressive."

She shrugged. "Not really."

"Of course it is. Not everyone can read."

"Who doesn't know how to read except for little kids like Chrissie?"

Too embarrassed to reply, Evangeline looked away and refocused on the dusting.

Lily watched for a moment, noticing how stiff and hurried Evangeline had become along with the sudden end to the conversation. Then it started to come together.

"Evangeline… you do know how to read, don't you?"

Softly, she replied, "Not much time for schooling when you're a maid."

"Have you been a maid your entire life?" the girl asked in astonishment.

"Just about," she said, readjusting her hold on Aggie.

"But you can't have… when you were my age?"

"I wasn't much older than Chrissie when I went to live with my first family."

Lily shook her head. "I know you've mentioned that you were an orphan, but I guess I thought kids were sent to their relatives when both of their parents die."

"Got to have relatives in order to live with them." Evangeline attempted to make her voice light. "Next to some, I had it good."

"Grown-ups really expect little girls to do all their chores for them?"

"Not all of them. When you're a child it's called earning your keep. Ending up as a servant comes naturally after that."

Eyes wide, Lily said, "I hope Papa never dies."

"Don't worry yourself about that now."

"I always worry about it," she admitted.

Setting her rag aside, Evangeline sat down next to Lily and cradled Aggie in her arms. "It's not a wonder why. But losing your mother doesn't mean your father is right behind."

"You lost both of your parents. Lots of kids do. Why shouldn't I worry Papa will die soon?"

"My family wasn't nearly as well off as you lot. It's easy to catch your death in a cold and damp little shack."

"A warm house didn't save Mama."

Evangeline wrapped her arm around the little girl and held her close, looking down at a sleepy Aggie in the other. She said nothing more for a while, knowing that no words or well-intentioned promises could put these sorts of fears to rest.

It was a knock at the door that brought them out of their sorrowful moment. Lily looked up at Evangeline with question in her eyes. It wasn't usual for unexpected visitors.

While Lily's worst case scenario was a surprise visit from Aunt Adelaide, Evangeline has bill collectors on the mind. Mr. Brown had been complaining more and more about money troubles. She didn't know the gravity of the situation, of course, but it was enough that it took his mind off the grief of his wife for a little while.

"I'll see," Evangeline said as she stood, passing the baby off to Lily. "Watch her, will you?"

The girl nodded, watching as the maid hurried out of the room.

. . .

To Evangeline's relief, it wasn't a bill collector at the door, but rather the carpenter arriving with the new bed.

"We didn't expect you until next week," she said as she held the door open.

"Mr. Brown made a simple order," the carpenter said, "and it's the least I can do to spend a few extra hours on it. Poor man. How's he doing? It's been about a month now?"

Evangeline nodded but didn't answer any specific questions. "I'm sorry we haven't made arrangements. The old bed is still upstairs. Mr. Brown is at work."

"No bother, my assistant and I can handle it."

With some apprehension, Evangeline let the men in. She worried how Cedric would take to coming home to such a massive change without time to process it. He might have placed the order, but it was evident he was still struggling with it. For a brief moment, she contemplated running down to the mortuary to inform him. She might have if not for the commotion the removal of the bed stirred among the children.

"Why are they taking away Mama and Papa's bed?" Sebastian questioned, his eyes full.

"I thought you all knew," Evangeline replied, looking in Tora's direction.

"I thought Papa might change his mind," Tora admitted guiltily. "I didn't want to upset anyone if I didn't have to."

"You could have at least told me!" Simon snapped.

"I knew you'd be the angriest!"

Simon and Tora fought, Chrissie wailed, stirring Aggie in the process, and the others chatted anxiously between each other causing an embarrassing scene for the carpenter who thought he'd done a nice thing showing up early. Evangeline apologized over and over. Thankfully, the man was sympathetic.

Cedric, who had the misfortune to come home to the mayhem, wasn't as understanding.

"What the devil is going on here?!" he demanded, yanking Evangeline aside. "You've let them take over the entire bloody house!"

Having had her fill of the racket and chaos for one day, Evangeline forgot her place and shouted back. "I've done nothing! It's you that's done it not talking to your kids!"

Stunned by her tone, he couldn't find a response.

Evangeline continued. "Nanny Kent quit this morning. Packed her bags and left. Who do you think has been watching out for them 'til now?"

"She quit?" he repeated.

"Are you surprised by the way they've treated her?"

"I didn't know it was that bad."

"Of course not! You don't pay any matter anymore."

Having heard the argument between their father and Evangeline, the kids stopped their bickering and shouting to listen, half of them perched at the top of the stairs and the rest at the foot. Cedric turned to look at them all and then back at Evangeline. His anger was replaced by remorse.

"I'm… sorry, Evangeline. I shouldn't have scolded you." Looking at the kids again, he added, "I'm sorry for not telling you about the bed as well. I should have. I didn't realize what a big deal it was for you all."

Everyone remained silent.

Cedric shook his head. "Please, excuse me."

As Evangaline watched him walk away, she couldn't help but feel regretful about her own words to him, while at the same time feeling immense sorrow for him, and as she turned to look at the children, she felt the same for them as well.

…

At nearly midnight, Evangeline was still up. She had spent nearly the entire day with the children and there was still so much work to be done with the house. She did not want Mr. Brown to scold her for working so late so she tiptoed quietly to his study, thinking he would well and truly be upstairs by then.

She entered the study purposefully, and not having expected to see another soul that night, got the fright of her life when a shadowy figure stirred beside her.

"Oh, Mr. Brown! I'm so sorry. I thought you'd be in bed."

He blinked at her, bleary-eyed. "I must have gotten carried away with my letter writing. I find it to be a rather helpful distraction."

Evangeline pursed her lips, wishing that he could see that he had seven children upstairs who would all be very happy to distract him. She knew that idea came with its own complications, though.

"You've got work in the morning. Don't you think you ought to be asleep by now?" She berated him softly.

"Well so too should you, yet here you are", he narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you doing down here at this time of night anyway?"

"I just came to do a quick dusting. I wouldn't be able to sleep if I knew it wasn't done", she confessed almost guiltily.

He nodded in understanding. "I'll admit I'm also finding it difficult to settle."

"Your new bed, has it not helped at all?" She asked delicately.

He dropped his sunken eyes to the paper in front of him. "Well, it isn't only in our bed where memories of my wife lie. It's in our bedroom, it's in this house, in the village…it's in the chil- in the children", he sobbed, his voice racked with pain.

He covered his face with his hands, weeping openly.

Evangeline stood frozen at the edge of the room. She didn't know what to do for him. She'd known how to comfort the children because she had lost her own Mother too, long ago and she could identify with their grief. However, the twenty-six year old woman had yet to endure the loss of someone she loved romantically.

"Mr. Brown…", she cooed, rushing to his side and allowing him to hold her.

This was becoming a bit too much of a habit, she thought silently - finding herself in his arms. Then again, who else was there now to comfort him? She'd never dream of exhibiting such displays of closeness in front of anyone else, but she supposed that here in the privacy of his study, there was no harm in it. Especially if she knew that it was helping him.

However, as she stroked his back calmingly, Evangaline realized with a twist of her stomach that she was starting to like being this close to him, far too much more than a scullery maid should with her boss. Especially one who had only very recently lost his wife.