Servants Series 8

by ss9

Motherhood isn't everything it was supposed to be but will Taplow's newest mother be able to meet the challenges? On top of that there is a motherin law and new grandmother to deal with and a christening to organise.

1. Episode 1

Looking back over the past two months since his daughter's unexpected arrival the butler sat ensconced in his office, once more dealing with the day to day running of his beloved Taplows. Finally the Earl had seen fit to return from his little jaunt to the coast, and the house was once more filled with the sounds of the old goat's constant demands.

Had it really been two months, two whole months since his little princess had arrived? Sometimes it felt like only a few days had passed surely, other times, like in the middle of the night when she refused to sleep it already seemed like a lifetime. At times like that he almost wished the Earl had insisted on his accompanying him to Brighton instead of taking only Andrew, Charles and his Valet. Being a father was all and more than he had expected, simply holding her close as she slept was such an incredible honour, and he felt more at peace than ever when he was with her.

However he couldn't sit here and pretend everything was as rosy as it at first appeared. The Earl's reappearance had brought with it another disturbing twist of events, as he had not returned alone. Instead when the carriage had arrived not only was there his lordship but also the Reverend and his lady wife, although it was obvious to all that the seaside air had not had the same beneficial effect on the Reverend as it had on his lordship. In fact as the footmen had helped the clergyman down from the carriage they had been shocked by his deterioration, his entire frame was shaking and he babbled to himself under his breath, not that his wife had appeared to notice or care; instead she seemed more than content to hang off the Earls arm, flirting coquettishly with him and laughing at his poor attempts at humour.

Frowning at his big book of figures, Jarvis recalled the triumphant look Catherine Postlebury nee Stanwick had given him as she had sashayed into the house like she owned the place, taking malicious glee in his shocked and disgusted expression. And everyday since she had found a reason to visit, dragging her poor sickly husband behind her as an alibi; but the butler knew better, he knew that whilst Cat was deep in 'discussion' with the Earl in his study, her husband was locked up with old Lady Mary, probably dribbling in tandem onto their respective collars.

And yet despite this disturbing development, there was another matter much closer to home that was for the present a more sinister concern; that of his dysfunctional family. Every single member, apart from the adorable little Ellie, was hiding something. Frank, dammit despite his fervent desire never to think of him as family he was still his nephew, and he was definitely up to something. He still couldn't forget that morning all those weeks ago when young Miss May had come to him, she had been trying to tell him something then but at the time he was so caught up in the excitement of his daughter's birth, he had brushed her aside with barely a backwards glance. And Frank he was too… well too damn smug, which could only mean one thing, he was up to something, Jarvis could feel it in his bones.

Then of course there was his mother, she had been, 'off' was the only word that could describe things. She had of course been doting on Ellie, spoiling the baby as much as she could, always happy to give Flora a break and steal her granddaughter for hours at a time, much to his wife's chagrin as it upset Ellie's carefully balanced routine. And yet there were days when she scarcely seemed to be with it, and barely moved from the fire, content to add a few stitches to some new garment for her granddaughter.

If all these troubles weren't enough then he still had to deal with his still overly emotional wife. Some nights when he made his way upstairs she would be seemingly fine, the baby would be asleep and Flora contentedly sewing away; other's Ellie would be screaming the house down and Flora would be trying to get her to stop, often resulting in him having to take over whilst Flora cried herself to sleep. The good Dr had assured him such emotional outbursts were perfectly normal for new mothers and that after a few weeks or so she would return to some semblance of normality, and frankly he was down to counting off the days.

- - - - -

Later that lazy September afternoon Flora had decided to take Eileánóir out for a brief stroll in that new fangled pram Felix had purchased on his recent excursion to Bristol. It wouldn't be long until the weather grew steadily colder and although she was no means the fusspot that Emily had turned into since the birth; she still didn't relish the idea of exposing her daughter to a Taplow's winter just yet. So instead she decided to take advantage of the autumnal sunshine whilst it lasted and get some much needed fresh air and exercise.

It was just as she was reaching over to fuss over her cooing daughter who was blowing spit bubbles all over her beautiful face that she heard that voice that still sent tremors of anger through Flora Corey's slender frame.

"Oh Mrs Corey…."

As if somehow sensing her mother's distress Eileánóir immediately began to grisel, screwing up her normally serene face and frowning, an expression that usually had her mother in stitches for the resemblance it had to Walter when he was about to blow his fuse. However at this particular moment the last thing she wanted to do was to have to stop and comfort her daughter, wishing to simply make a quick exit, so after a reassuring shush Flora whirled round to face her personal nemesis.

"Mrs Postlebury!"

"Oh and the little one, how charming." Cat added as she drew close enough to lean over the pram and stare in at the child inside. "Lovely but then she does seem to favour her father doesn't she?" Cat added spitefully noting the large crystal blue eyes that for a moment seemed to be summing her up. "You must have been so relieved…"

"I beg your pardon?" Flora chocked out in surprise, unable to believe what Cat seemed to be implying.

"You must be so relieved she's so healthy." Cat retorted innocently enough but her eyes betrayed her and Flora knew exactly what the former housekeeper had meant. "May I?" Cat asked but before Flora could issue an answer Cat had reached into the pram and had pulled the struggling Eileánóir out.

"What was it you called her in the end….Something funny and foreign wasn't it?" Cat sniggered jostling the now frowning baby up and down in an over-exaggerated manner, which only emphasised her lack of experience with children.

"Eileánóir, its Irish my grandmother's name…Mrs Postlebury I wouldn't do that if I were you, she only ate about ten…"

But the rest of the warning Flora was about to issue suddenly became irrelevant as Eileánóir herself had obviously reached the same conclusion moments before her mother and threw up the meagre contents of her tiny stomach all over the stunned Cat.

"Oh my how disgust…"

"She's a baby and she doesn't like being jostled she's not one of your clients!" Flora snapped quickly retrieving her child and cleaning her up with her spare handkerchief.

"How dare you?" Cat exclaimed stepping away and trying to wipe the milky mucus from the lace collar of her dress. "I don't know what you are referring to MRS COREY but I am a respectable Reverend's wife."

"Now perhaps!" Flora retorted as she shifted the baby against her shoulder holding her close to her body. "But what about before?" She added grasping the pram with her free hand and dragging it round to return to the house but an incandescent Cat grabbed hold of the handle and forced her to stop.

"And what about you Flora? A girl from the backwaters of the empire nothing but white slum trash who made good by marrying above her station!"

"How dare you? Me marrying above my station? At least I never devalued myself the way you have, and believe me I KNOW exactly the sort of thing you got up to before you remarried; 'clergymen a specialty' according to a certain Mr Abbot. Surely you remember him, turned up Christmas Eve didn't he?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" Cat snapped but from the way the colour drained from her face Flora knew her comment had hit home. "You had better watch what you say Mrs Corey I am not without influence at Taplows and it wouldn't be good for your little family to be cast out now would it?"

"Influence?" Flora scoffed. "In certain bedrooms perhaps but nothing that a few pointed comments to some well known Tappleton gossips wouldn't quickly undermine."

"You wouldn't dare!" Cat hissed.

"Just try me…Now if you will excuse me I have to get my daughter inside I'm sure you can find your own way back in!" Flora added wrenching the pram out of Cat's hand before putting her now sleeping daughter back into it.

"Yes you had better get back there's probably some silver that needs polishing or laundry that needs folding!" Cat scoffed.

"No actually I have a afternoon tea meeting with my husband he simply cannot bear to have us far from his sight for long….But then I suppose your husband is the same!" Flora added sarcastically as she knew very well as did most of the parish that the good reverend was slowly loosing his marbles and doubted he even knew who his wife was most of the time, something that probably accounted for Cat's disturbing friendship with the Earl.

"Yes indeed!" Cat snorted gathering her skirts and storming back across the lawn towards the house whilst Flora paused for a moment watching her leave before turning and tucking the baby blanket firmly round her sleeping angel. Leaning down she planted a gentle kiss on Eileánóir forehead and as she pulled away whispered. "Well done my darling, your aim will make you father proud!"

- - - -

She almost flew down the corridor as fast as she could while pushing a pram with a sleeping baby in. She was anxious to tell her story of the events with Mrs Catherine Postlebury to her waiting husband, who she hoped would be waiting for her with a tray of tea to welcome back his wife and daughter after their walk in the gentle autumn breeze.

However as she opened the door to his office she saw that that was clearly not the case. He didn't even look up at her as she struggled to push the huge pram through the tidy opening of his doorway. "You'll never guess what our little princess has just done," she whispered excitedly, while leaning over to check her little sleeping beauty was in fact still asleep.

"You mean she's done something other than sleep, feed or scream?" Walter asks dryly, still not looking up at her from his big book of figure he was scribbling in.

"I don't think daddy got enough sleep last night, did he?" Flora coos, while making sure the blanket was tucked properly around her daughter, so as not to allow any draughts in. "He seems very short this afternoon," Flora continues, moving away from her little one to lean against Walter's desk and running her delicate hand through his hair soothingly. "I think you are ready for a good cup of tea and I may even allow you to have a slice of cake if you are a very good little boy and watch over little miss Eileánóir while I go find out where on earth our tea has got too."

"Flora I'm very busy at the moment," he suddenly snaps, slamming down his pen and wrenching his glasses off, glaring up at her.

"Oh…I just thought you said this morning that we'd have tea this afternoon?" Flora asks suddenly feeling very ridiculous and stepping back away from him slightly.

"I didn't say as such…I made more of a passing comment suggesting it and it turns out I've got far too much to be doing, I've got to get this finished," he exclaims as he indicates to the papers beneath him, "and I've also got a very important meeting with Mol- Mrs Watson which is far more critical than playing mummies and daddies with you and Ellie."

"Of course…" she replies, trying to control the growing feeling of anger in her as she looked down at her insensitive husband in disgust. "You must have lots to do at the moment, what with the hundreds of upcoming parties to organise," the sarcasm was obvious in her currently calm voice. "and I wouldn't want you to miss a date with housekeeper just so you can spend an enormous half an hour with us, that would just be utterly selfish of me to even suggest such a thing."

"Oh for gods sake Flora don't be like that, you know I'm rushed off my feet at the moment-"

"Clearly," she hisses bitterly, "just by who exactly?" she mutters under her breath so it was inaudible for him to hear.

"And I can see you and little Ellie later can't I?" he continues loudly so as to talk over her.

"Of course later…after you've eaten your dinner and had a considerably large amount of brandies with Felix and Andrew, then you'll come up to Eileánóir and myself after I've just got her down so the hard bit is out of the way before you appear. Then you'll expect me to stay up and listen to you talk about how stressful your day has been when really you've no idea how stressful a day can be when you try to look after a baby…well I'll tell you something Walter Corey I'm not having it! Good god! I can't even bare to be in the same room as you!" She shouts, hearing the slow uproar as her daughter wakes in her pram. "Well we'll leave you to get back to your mountains of work, good day!" She exclaims, pushing the pram out of the door, not even moving towards her daughter to attempt to get her to sleep again.

Making her way to the nearest exit she dashed out of the door into the courtyard where she barged past any footman who happened to get in her way, only stopping when she felt a firm hand on her arm rooting her to the stop. "Mrs Corey is everything alright?" The first footman asks, trying his best to sound off hand rather than genuinely concerned.

"Is everything alright…well lets see shall we?…" she trails off pretending to think hard. "I've not eaten in days! I've not slept in weeks! I've worn these same clothes for the last four days! My daughter won't stop crying! And to top it all off I've just been ditched by my husband for a stack of paperwork and a meeting with Molly Watson…so if that sounds like everything is alright then I guess it is all fine!"

Will steps back away from her stunned as she waves her arms around madly to exercise her point. When she finished he was lost for words and simply shrugged nervously before muttering, "well we all have our problems…"

The red rose in her cheeks as she clenched her fists tightly, preparing to knock him into the middle of next week but deciding she didn't have the energy she simply took a deep breath and stormed past him out into the grounds without even a thought to the gradually darkening sky.

-----------

Oblivious to her daughter-in-law's flight from the house, Emily once again sat in her room with her arms tightly wrapped around the shaking Grace May. Over the past 2 months it had become a custom for Grace to join Emily in the evening for tea or just a general chat over a little sewing. They was of course a particular reason for this…it meant in the evenings Grace could avoid Mr Frank Keneally. After her attempt to talk to Mr Jarvis the morning of Ellie's birth she had decided it wasn't worth the hassle, so instead dodge Frank and his groping hands as much as possible.

Of course this didn't always work, there were times when she would return to the maid's room in the early hours of the morning and find him lurking outside waiting for her. At times like these he would drag her back to him room by her hair, then squeeze her wrist so tightly it bruised until she told him where she had been all evening.

If she was a good girl and did as she was told without too much trouble he did tend to be more gentle with her, than the times when she attempted to scream the house down and alert someone to her presence in Frank's room. No one ever seemed to notice though. None of the maids sharing her room cared that she didn't come to bed until the early hours in the morning if at all. They all assumed she was off peacefully cuddling Frank Keneally.

Emily had hoped that after so many bruises in such a short space of time had appeared on Grace's face that someone was bound to take notice apart from herself. But Grace made up a number of excuses which Frank encourage and everyone seemed to believe every single word she said. She herself had on more than one occasion gone against Grace's wish and tried to talk to her son herself, but he was so wrapped up in his daughter he brushed her words away.

She would have gone to Flora next but she no longer had any authority over the staff anyway and besides she had enough on her plate as it was anyway. Molly would of course been the obvious choice after Flora, but Emily was still not sure if she trusted her enough. She was disgusted enough that she hadn't picked up on Grace's distress herself.

The two of them could only wait until Frank tripped up, made enough of a mess of things to get himself into trouble. And meanwhile Grace couldn't help thinking that no news of George was definitely good news. If he had been caught or even seen it would have been front page in every newspaper. Most journalists had gone to town when the news of his escape had broken out so what would be stopping them now?

The last thing Grace had needed was news of George's escape in the first place. It put her in the awkward position of her actually having to decide whether she thought he was innocent. Sometimes she did, other times she'd tell herself that he had to be guilty, surely he would have mentioned it to her sooner if he had nothing to hide. Even if he was guilty she hoped desperately he was being as careful as possible…the thought of him hanging made her feel physically sick and she did not wish to ever think of him putting himself at that risk for her or anyone else.

"You know Mrs Corey once mentioned to me…goodness…around 2 years ago now, that I had a way with the gentlemen," Grace muttered, into Emily's shoulder, "I can't help thinking if she was right, she got my 'luck' and I got her down right rubbish luck when it came to men."

Emily chuckled gently before whispering, "You can't think of it as luck deary, surely. Frank and Mr Cosmo just happened to turn their attention in your direction and then treated you in the worst manner…but you could hardly say Flora has had loads of 'luck' either, just look at the journey my Walter has led her on over the last 2 years. If you ask me it's nothing to do with the woman's 'luck' it's more to do men in general. Each as untrustworthy as the next."

"Perhaps…" Grace trailed off thinking. "Or maybe it's just to do with the men who apply for a job at Taplows. I've not seen much of the outside world, but Charlotte managed to find herself someone trustworthy and Lizzie's found this marvellous gentleman," Emily shrugged, amused at the bitterness in Grace's tone.

"If these men really are as wonderful as they have been made out…which I do doubt…then they are certainly a unique species, one which I have not yet come across." Grace rose her head carefully off Emily's shoulder, gratefully accepting the handkerchief she offered.

"So you are seriously telling me that even the Corey men are not perfect in every way possible…not even Mr Jarvis," she added with an adorable knowing smile.

"Of course not," Emily smiled to herself. "I must admit there is a certain charm about every Corey man I've ever met…but they are in no way perfect. They all have their…tempers, which you have come across unfortunately in Mr Keneally and I'm sure my son on many occasions." She sighed gently, her smile fading as the memories began to resurface. "They are utterly stubborn, which can be most exasperating in a house of three Corey men, never of them wishing to back down. Controlling… and have tendencies to disregard anyone's feelings except their own…"

"How did you cope for so long?" Grace questioned, squeezing Emily's hand gently. "Taking for the three of them for so long…you must have been incredibly relieved when you were given a granddaughter instead of a grandson."

"Men do claim women can be just as frustrating, something I do not believe entirely. As for how I coped for so long well it wasn't all bad…you and George didn't spend your entire relationship in estrangement did you? And I guess the coping with the bad came naturally…it's not like I could hide away until the storm had passed. I had a house to manage so therefore it's just something you have to take. And there was always the prospect of a happy enough future to cling onto, both my boys settling down finally and them generally being on speaking terms with their father." Emily smiled confidently at Grace before whispering, "And look to an extent I do have that…a beautiful daughter-in-law who I care for so much, a perfect granddaughter, Walter is over the moon about the whole situation."

"I suppose on the bright side if I did ever marry Frank, apart from him being a bit of an…idiot, I would be marrying into the most caring family imaginable."

"Oh yes, you'd have the most fabulous grandmother-in-law, I know that for a fact!" Grace giggled and for the first time in ages Grace was able to forget about Frank and just enjoy a few moments alone with Emily.

- - - -

The first Andrew Adams heard about the impending return of Lord Montague Hamilton-Hussey was from the old Earl himself, wrapped up by the fire even though it was a mild evening and muttering under his breath about not being left in peace for the rest of the year because of "damned politics" getting in the way.

"Anyone would think he wanted Taplows for himself." The Earl grumbled Adams topped up his brandy, his hand shaking slightly in anticipation of more information. Adams felt rather annoyed; why hadn't Jarvis mentioned anything to him? Surely he would have realised he would be the first to want to know such news? Or, maybe, that was the reason why he hadn't told him. The impending return of an old ghost in the form of Lord Farquarson seemed inevitable.

His Lordship was still talking, more at his under-butler than to him, as if he might chat away to Monty the dog but, of course, expecting it to be a rather one-sided conversation. Adams might listen but he could hardly be expected to understand such sensitivities of socially acceptable hospitalities and the world of politics. Adams, however, simply didn't care a jot about his Lord and Master's moaning – Lord Monty's return could surely mean one other thing. Rebecca.

Their son would be nearly three months old now and he wondered if he had started to develop a little personality; whether, like Ellie, he kept his mother awake at night, although he suspected Lizzie might have had to bear to brunt of that, or whether he was good as gold and slept through till morning. Hugo was, of course, an Adams so he doubted it was the latter. He was always mindful of his own mother's comment when he and his sister were small. He had a habit of scaring the little girl next door with snails and Molly had the mischievous gall to accuse her brother of hitting her when he had done no such thing. "You true-blooded Adams' are all born troublemakers!" Their mother exclaimed once in her frustration. Mrs Adams was a very perceptive woman.

Andrew had received two letters from Rebecca since their parting. The first, sent days after she received the news about Ellie in a hurriedly scrawled letter from Andrew, had been filled with gloom. She simply hadn't wished to return to Scotland even though the summer was mild and she could take Hugo out for walks along the very hills where her relationship with Andrew had begun. She missed, instead, the rolling countryside around Taplows; she missed her friend Flora and was devastated she had not been there to support her during Ellie's birth, but most of all she missed her lover and father of her child. Adams had drunk heavily that night, moodily brooding into the bottom of his whisky glass as he sat alone in his room pouring over the words, the neat, shapely curves of the letters she so carefully penned. How he had yearned for her gentle touch and to be gazed upon with those soothing blue eyes. Only Jarvis' badly timed interruption had jolted him from his depressing thoughts but with a suspicious frown the butler had caught sight of the letter as it was stuffed hurriedly under a pillow.

The second letter six weeks later was more upbeat as she renewed old contacts and began to socialise more, but the foreboding remained. Rebecca wondered whether Flora might have found the time to jot her a note, and was a little upset she hadn't heard a whisper from her. Francesca had given birth to a baby boy a few weeks early and Monty had been far more concerned than he had revealed when complications developed and the child nearly died. It reminded both he and Rebecca of baby Archie and she had prayed for his life, it wasn't the boy's fault he had less-than-desirable parentage. He had survived but, as usual, Franny took little interest in her new son and even employed a wet-nurse, but Monty was determined to treat the little fighter as his own and for that Rebecca had great admiration. The child had been named Oliver after pressure from Monty still failed to encourage his wife to be bothered to discuss a name. Their son Christopher had just finished reading a Dickens when Monty saw the name on the front cover. It was a nice name, he and Rebecca had to agree, but was also a subtle reminder to adulterous Francesca that the child was very lucky to have privilege. Any cruel husband may have seen little Oliver as nothing more than another future statistic for the workhouse, along with their other children. As it was, Monty loved them all, baby Oliver included.

The Earl fell asleep, snoring soundly, as Adams stoked the fire. It was bloody roasting but the Earl still seemed cold; nevertheless it was far too beneath his status to continually prod at the flames, he had far too much to do including finding Jarvis for a little chat. He knew just the footman for the job, and if he keeled over through heat exhaustion while in his wig and stockings then that was his look-out.

"Mr Matkin, have you seen Mr Forest on your travels!" Adams demanded as the footman jogged his way down the corridor. Fred stopped in his tracks but continued to perform star-jumps as the sweat beaded his forehead.

"Last time I saw Will he was talking to Mrs Corey, sir." He panted, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Think I've over-exerted myself with this training if the Earl's going to decide against the summer games this year."

Adams looked a little riled. "No decision has been taken – unless I'm unaware of it, which wouldn't be wholly unsurprising considering….."

Fred stopped jumping and jogged on the spot, but the under-butler was mumbling so inaudibly he halted his exercise and frowned. "What was that, Mr Adams?"

"Er, nothing." Adams shook his head dismissively. "Never mind your training, man, seeing as you're here I need you to get in there and watch over His Lordship. He's still cold even though it's hotter than the flames of hell in there, so get yourself presentable and get back here. I have other things to do." With that he pushed past Fred and stormed down the corridor, his mind whirring with happy and not-so-happy thoughts.

Fred paused for a moment as he watched the under-butler stride away, every now and again pausing to check the state of the carpet and the floorboards with a keen eye. It was a far more symbolic gesture than Adams might have realised, as it reminded Fred of how Jarvis used to be. All the footmen had agreed that Adams hadn't been the same these past few months, but neither had Mr Jarvis. Checking the floor for imperfections had been one of the butler's specialities, woe be tide any servant who hadn't done their floor cleaning duties properly. Now he was barely spotted checking any of the house's fabric, unless one included staring mindlessly at the rug in his own office. It hadn't been lost on the footmen, or indeed any of the staff, the fact that Adams was beginning to become the more active of the two men. Now there was something they never thought they would utter, but the more perceptive of the staff began to realise this could spell even bigger trouble between them once Jarvis caught wind of the mutterings.

Everyone had known about the strained relationship between the butler and the now ex-housekeeper and the birth of their daughter hadn't exactly brought them together, but it wasn't just their own relationship they had put under pressure. Nobody could quite work out whether Jarvis had over recent months become more dedicated to his job and to the permanently ailing Earl, or less. The more senior staff would have had to have been deaf, dumb and blind not to notice the growing animosity and potential rivalry between Jarvis and his deputy, and they had had more than their fair share of 'words' in the butler's office of late. They would argue over the smallest of problems and their differences over issues which before would have been dealt with without fuss began to take its toll on the rest of the staff.

Once Adams had complained that Jarvis listened too much to his sister's advice on matters and took little notice of his own, professional opinion. The butler had told him in no uncertain terms that from whom he sought advice had precisely nothing to do with him, and once word of their conversation reached the ears of Molly she had taken her brother to task. Increasingly it began to feel like Jarvis and Molly were 'ganging up' on the under-butler and leaving him out in the cold, so Adams had felt it time to get an ally of his own. Poor Flora seemed to become more stressed by the day as the bickering intensified between her and her husband, her husband and the under-butler, the under-butler and his sister, so Adams could hardly talk to her about his own problems. He had written to Rebecca, getting it all off his chest, but without her physically there to give him some much needed support he felt more alone than ever before. Jarvis was becoming increasingly hostile to everyone, except Molly it seemed, and once or twice Adams too had wondered about the nature of their relationship, but all such thoughts disappeared when he caught her, through the crack of the door, crying alone in her room one night, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. She too, from Monty's own hand, had just received the news that Francesca had given birth. Sometimes, Adams had thought with a pang of sorrow for his sister, life could be so cruel and unfair.

Life without Rebecca had, however, given Adams plenty of time to consider his own, professional future. He never thought he would think it, but Jarvis had begun to let standards slip a little recently. True he was getting through all the paperwork, alone in his office while Flora struggled to look after Ellie as Emily fussed and cooed around them. "He's a man, best let him deal with it his own way." Adams had overheard her saying to her daughter-in-law while Ellie screamed in her arms. "He needs to work, Flora dear, men aren't comfortable with baby talk, it's not in their nature." Adams couldn't decide who was driving him more insane – Jarvis' erratic behaviour or his daughter's constant screaming and crying. Often he could hear her in the middle of the night and it would wake him, but he could hardly say to Flora to kindly shut the child up, he needed to sleep. She, more than anyone, could appreciate what lack of sleep could do to a person.

There was, however, far more to being a good butler than paperwork. It had taken Adams a long time to become used to Jarvis' management style in the early days, but eventually he had come to realise how well it worked and that his staff respected him for it. Now, however, people appeared inconsequential to him. He barely had a word for any of the female staff apart from his new housekeeper, content to let her keep order amongst her girls without so much as a nod of caution if a maid appeared unpresentable or sloppy. It was almost as if he barely noticed any longer. True, he was very attentive to His Lordship, and he made sure the footmen got on with their duties, but Adams felt that order and discipline, on the whole, was being compromised by what seemed to be a self-absorbed butler who was now taking for granted his position as the head of Taplows staff. Adams often found himself having to take duties and matters into his own hands, and that was when the trouble would start. Jarvis would accuse him of meddling while Adams was left protesting he had no choice, the rebuilding after the fire had to be supervised otherwise the whole building could fall down. He had never had much of an idea about what went on in the butler's head but now Adams had even less of an understanding of him. Even Felix had avoided him since Ellie's birth, sticking to his own domain of the kitchen and rarely straying away from it. Yes the three of them would often drink together in the evening, but the gesture would be lost because little would be said and either Adams or Felix would end up making an excuse to leave just so they didn't have to witness Jarvis in a silent grump.

Adams had dared to wonder what life could be like under an Adams-led Taplows. Jarvis' bizarre indifference was a double-edged sword in reality – it gave Adams an opportunity to become experienced in areas he would normally not get to train, but on the other hand it lead to his increasing frustration. Maybe, just maybe, the position of butler at Taplows could one day become a reality for him. Did he want it? Hell, yes. He could convince His Lordship to let Rebecca and Hugo stay as much as they wanted; in fact, he could probably convince him of anything with persistence.

Jarvis was, as he predicted, in his office. He had been hunched over his bloody book of figures for hours now, painstakingly going through receipts slowly and meticulously. He usually did the whole thing in a couple of hours, but he had spent a few hours on it, gone off for one of his frequent meetings with Molly, then returned to it. Adams didn't even wait for him to look up as he knew it to be fruitless.

"The Earl tells me that Lord Montague will be returning." Adams said testily, eyeing the butler as he scraped the number 42 into his book. Jarvis didn't pause, nor make any move to indicate he realised Adams was there. Adams pursed his lips. "I said the Earl tells me….."

"Yes, Mr Adams, I did hear you." Jarvis replied sharply, but his body language didn't flinch. He continued to write as Adams loomed over him, wondering why on earth it always had to be like this.

"I just thought that maybe you might wish to discuss it with me." Adams' tone calmed but the tension remained. "It's just that….."

"It's just that you want to know if Lady Rebecca is returning?" Jarvis' question left Adams a little stunned, but at least the butler had bother to think up a perceptive response. It had to be a start. "The honest answer is that I don't know, all I know is that Lord Montague has his election to get over with so he can sit with the rest of the stuffy-nosed double-barrelled brigade in Parliament so he can officially contemplate his own navel. As for Lady Rebecca, and that child of hers, I have no idea. And you would do well to think about something else, my warning of a few months ago still stands even without Lord Farquarson around."

Adams was gobsmacked. He remembered well Jarvis' harsh words before Lord Farquarson died, but he also remembered an underlying tone of sympathy for his situation and the child he could never officially call his own. Now, it was cold, almost hateful. Two could certainly play at that game.

Adams puffed out his chest, deciding to use the most serious tone he could muster through his thick, Glaswegian brogue. "It has nothing to do with Lady Rebecca, sir. If a visitor is coming then I should know, I do not feel you should keep such information to yourself."

Jarvis slammed shut his book with a defiant thud, even before blotting the last number he had scrawled.

"Oh, do you not, Mr Adams!" He threw the book into a drawer but didn't stand, he simply glared.

"Well while we're on the subject of secret information, why did you take it upon yourself to radically alter the duty rota for the night watchmen without so much as a consultation with me?"

"It wasn't working, sir, repeatedly Harris failed to even spot the deer which has been causing havoc with the horses at night, so I thought it best to swap him with Graham North so he was on early shift……"

"You didn't answer my question! Did you notice the all-important word in your statement, Adams!" Jarvis slammed his fist onto the desk surface in the most violent outburst Adams had witnessed in a long time. Adams snapped his mouth shut; he couldn't remember a time when Jarvis had referred to him without his prefix and it seemed wholly disrespectful.

The butler's crystal eyes narrowed but his voice remained heavily laden with malice. "'It wasn't working….sir'. That would indicate that you are below me in status, and therefore this decision-making process has become somewhat topsy-turvy, HAS IT NOT! Sometimes I feel that maybe you would all like me gone from this place! My wife doesn't understand me, my mother nags, you go behind my back, undermining my authority and threatening the stability of the staff, the footmen seem to have greater respect for YOU than ME, I mean bloody hell!"

Adams felt trapped. Whatever he said Jarvis would twist, as if he thought there was a conspiracy against him. All he could do was try to placate him when all the time he knew the butler simply wanted to return to his figures and be left alone. Possibly for good. "That isn't true, Mr Jarvis sir, your footmen have great respect for you, as do I, it's just that you seem distracted, which is expected really what with Ellie and….."

"Do not bring my daughter into this, Mr Adams, I am warning you!" Jarvis spat in a low, frosty voice. Adams shook his head, genuinely confused. This was ridiculous, Jarvis seemed to have gone paranoid and he wished to high Heaven that Molly might walk in so he could make a quick exit.

"I wasn't bringing her into anything, I was just merely pointing out…." Adams began in exasperation, but once again his superior cut him off rudely.

"Oh piss off will you, I'm not interested." Jarvis waved him away dismissively.

"Some may say that that's just it; the whole problem. Would you agree, sir?" Adams retorted calmly, desperately hiding his utter amazement at being told to leave the room in such a crude manner by someone as supposedly professional as Walter Corey.

"Is that a direct challenge to me, Mr Adams?" This time Jarvis did stand up, in a physical although subconscious attempt to head off a threat. The two men met each other's gaze across the office and Adams couldn't help but feel scared. In a fist-to-fist fight Adams was sure he would come out the victor, but in a mental struggle for authority and power? He wondered if he stood any chance at all.

"A challenge, Mr Jarvis? Certainly not." Adams raised his eyebrows, backing towards the door. He turned the handle, the butler's eyes fixed firmly upon him, but as he stepped out of the office he couldn't help but have the last, uncomfortable say before leaving him to wallow. "Unless, of course, you wish it to be."

- - - - - -

A couple of hours later Will peered casually down into the courtyard from the footmen's room. "She still not back yet?" Joe asks.

"Who?"

"Mrs Corey! Well she's the reason you've been looking out of the window for the last hour isn't she!" Fred exclaims cutting across the more sensitive reply Joe was about to give.

"No!" Will replies adamantly, throwing a bottle of powder in Fred's direction.

"Well she's been out there for hours now and it's chucking it down…I'm surprised Jarvis hasn't sent a search party out yet," Fred mutters, "but then again we all heard her little outburst earlier…if you ask me he hasn't even noticed they are missing yet." He chuckles, while searching for the shoe polish he seemed to have mislaid.

"Oi Will!" Joe shouts, as he suddenly jumps up, dashing to the door, not before placing a well deserve smack on the side of a certain Charlie Lewis' smirking face, "Adams said we had to…" but that was all Will heard as he dashed downstairs and out into the rain, determined to settle his guilty conscience before something happened to either Flora or Ellie. At least if he found her he could offer something no one else would by the sound of things, a trusty shoulder to cry on.

- - - -

It was only a few minutes later that in his office a certain Butler finally came to the end of his mountain of paperwork having spent the last hour or so grunting brief answers to his new housekeeper who had flapped around his office causing his already short fuse to spark on several occasions. It was only now that those horrid chores were finally out of the way that he could sit back and relax and let his thoughts return to those two beautiful creatures that were never far from his waking, or one in particular from even his sleeping thoughts. However it was with a growing sense of uneasiness that he recalled their little tiff from that morning, Flora had been so unlike her usual composed self, flying off the handle at the littlest thing, perhaps now he had a chance he should go and spend some proper time with his family and appease his wife's righteous temper.

So getting out of his seat he stopped in front of the glass smiling at his handsome and somewhat slimmer physique thanks to his summer training swiping at his hair till it fell just right before striding out the door intent on heading upstairs to visit his little haven. However it was as he was passing the footmen's room that a snatch of conversation caught his interest.

"I can't believe Will…Is he a glutton for punishment or what?" Fred snorted only to be quickly contradicted by Joe.

"Why just cause he doesn't forget about a woman the moment he beds her like you Frederick?" Joe retorted. "He was worried your saw what a state Mrs Corey was in and she's been gone for hours…"

"What?" Jarvis demanded pushing open the footmen's door with a loud crash and the footmen were unable to decide whether he looked more concerned that his wife and daughter were missing or angry that it was a certain William Forest who had gone off to look for them.

"He was worried Sir, she's been gone for hours with the little 'un and its been pouring it down he was worried there might have been an accident or something that's all." Joe immediately replied defending his friend as best he could watching as the butler grew slowly paler.

"How long has she been missing?" He asked his voice low and tense as his eyes flicked to the window the fog creeping down the hillside to the house as he panicked about his wife and infant daughter being out in such evil weather.

"A couple of hours ago she came storming out into the courtyard fuming about something in a right state she was and she just carried on going into the gardens down towards the pond it looked like but I can't be sure…Will left about twenty minutes ago to go find her…" Joe trailed off as the butler turned on his heel leaving the uneasy footmen to simply shrug and gaze at each other in bewilderment, whatever would happen they doubted Will would be coming off the hero, at least not where Jarvis was concerned.

-----------

Will tugged his jacket tighter around him scanning around the lake frantically for any sign of Flora or her infant. Once again he called out her name at the top of his voice in desperation…but stopping stock still as he heard a faint cry from somewhere nearby. Glancing around he lifted his heels out of the sinking mud with a squelch and ran towards the gazebo which he was positive was their correct general direction.

The closer he got the louder the cry got until he finally sped into the gazebo to see Flora huddled up on one of the benches, Eileánóir tight in her arms, as she sobbed slowly rocking them both gently. Will felt a huge pang of guilt as he shuffled towards them, intent of making up for his useless, uncomforting words earlier.

"I should have known you'd be here…it seems to be your hiding place for not the first time," he whispers gently so as not to startle her. Flora peeked up at him through her teary eyes not sure whether she was relief Will had found her before Walter or not. "What on earth are you playing at Flora, you're drenched to the skin."

"I feel nothing…" she begins, "physically anyway, no cold…only hurt…anger…regret…and utter foolishness. Oh Will how could I be so stupid…for once why don't I think about the consequences of my actions before I up take them. What if Eileánóir gets sick? What if she becomes ill because of me and my selfish decisions! This is all my fault…turning against my husband, no wonder he completely ignores me, I've been pushing him away for so long it's hardly surprising! And then…and then I drag my darling daughter out into a storm without even a thought…Walter will never forgive me! She could die for Christ's sake and it would be all my fault!…" she trails off, sobbing loudly so she nearly overrode the sound of Ellie's screaming.

Will stood for a moment staring at the hysteric woman now arms length away from him. Deciding now was the appropriate time to offer her a shoulder to cry on, he wrapped his arms tightly around them both, holding them tightly. "Don't speak like that," he murmurs into her sopping dress, "she looks alright to me," he whispers, glancing down at the gradually quietening baby who was snuggling into Will's dry chest. "…if only the same could be said about you…you're turning blue! Here…" he says, pushing himself up slightly so he could pull his jacket off and wrap it tightly around Flora. "Let me see…" he continues thoughtfully, beginning to unbutton his shirt and pull it off with a flourish before wrapping it snugly around Ellie.

"There there," he smiles, running a gently finger down the side of Ellie's chubby cheek, as she drifted off to sleep.

"You'll catch your death Will!" Flora snaps, her teeth chattering as she stared at Will's frail vest.

"That's a risk I'm prepared to take," he cuts her off his voice so strict, it quickly silenced Flora. "You however…well you should know better than this," he whispers his voice now soft and soothing and he tightens his grasp around her and Eileánóir.

"I didn't mean to do it…" she murmurs, the icy tears rolling onto his bare shoulders.

"I know you didn't…I know you'd never do anything to put Ellie at risk purposely," he replies, sliding the hand that wasn't holding Ellie up into his jacket and trailing it gently up and down Flora's back in an effort to rub some warmth back into her.

"I wasn't thinking," she whispers sadly, clinging onto vest to extract as much warmth as possible from him. "I just didn't know what to do…I never seem to know what to do…"

"You should have come and spoken to me straight away instead of coming out here and turning into little miss snowman…well woman," he chuckles softly.

"Well another hour and that would have been it, Felix would have a pair of beautiful sculptures to admire…and the freezing would have started at my feet," she moans gently, wiggling her toes in her shoe.

"I'm not having that," he gasps slightly as he felt Flora's freezing hands against his bare chest as she slid them up under his vest. Flora began to feel the warmth gradually seep into her as Will removed her shoes and began to rub her feet through her soaking stockings.

"Would you?…" she asks, indicating to the stockings she couldn't reach, yet wished to remove. He nodded gently, his whole body beginning to tremble as his slid his hand up her leg to her garter from which he detached her stockings and slid them down her leg and off her feet.

For the first time all day Flora felt utter relaxation flood over her as Will gently ran his hands over her legs warming them slowly. Closing her eyes she cuddled up to Will and her baby vowing there and then to near ever put her little one at any other risk. "Oh why can't this be easy…I never seem to know where I am or what I should be doing…Walter…God I don't know what is wrong with him, he's always so distant, the only time he seems to take an interest is when…"

"GET YOUR STINKING HANDS OFF THEM!" A sudden harsh and fuming voice sounded out cutting through the gentle lulling patter of the rain on the gazebo roof.

"Mr Jarvis…Please sir this is not what you think…I was just…"

"I don't give a toss what you think I think Forest, take your snivelling hands off of my wife and child!" The Butler snapped stepping out of the rain and finally into the dark gazebo, his eyes widening in horror as he spotted his wife's shoes and stockings lying abandoned on the floor. "What in the name of…"

"Walter nothing has happened, my feet were freezing, Will was just concerned." Flora began trying to placate her obviously irate husband well aware of what it must look like to him considering their past involvement but still unable to squash that small flicker of righteous indignation; here she was soaked to the skin their daughter could be sick and the first thing he was concerned about was that a half-naked William Forest was holding them and trying to get them warm.

"Get away from them Forest." The Butler growled, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists. "Now before I do something you regret."

"Oh for god sakes I've only been here five minutes…"

"That is five minutes too long for my liking."

"Walter please…"

"No don't you please Walter me Madam, you get yourself over here by my side where you belong and away from that blaggard." The butler snapped, whilst pulling off his own jacket quickly followed by his waistcoat holding them out to his wife, obvious intending for her to discard Will's offering and adorn herself in his, but Flora had set her jaw and he could tell she was going to be stubborn about the whole thing. "Do not try my patience Flora!"

"Look Mr Jarvis see no harms done, its only me who'll freeze to death now isn't it…"

"Well we can all pray for that can't we." The Butler snorted, his eyes narrowing further in the face of his wife's continued disobedience, as he finally turned to confront her over her stupid behaviour. "Just what do you think you were doing? Dragging our daughter out into this weather, letting her catch her death and you too, dammit woman were you even thinking at all? Is there one brain cell left in that addled head of yours that hasn't been scrambled by your pregnancy?" Jarvis added as he slowly closed the distance to his wife his entire frame trembling not with cold but with barely restrained fury.

"I…You started it." Flora retorted practically under her breath but her husband heard her and it did nothing to quell the fire burning, instead it was like throwing oil on the fire and unconsciously he raised his hand warningly.

"You mind your tongue." Walter hissed.

"Don't you dare sir." Will cut in before he could say more and the butler turned round to face the footman clearly readying himself for a fight.

"Or what?"

"You know what."

Snorting in amusement the butler swaggered over to the young buck, shaking his head as if dismissing the threat before planting a lightening fast punch direct to the young man's stomach, causing Will to splutter and gag, doubling over as he dropped to his knees. Grasping the lad savagely by the hair as Will winced back tears, trying to chock back the bile that had filled his mouth. "Don't you tell me how to treat my family Forest, it's not like you have a wealth of happy family experience from which to draw a comparison, so I'll warn you not to interfere." The Butler hissed, dropping the lad as quickly as he had seized him, before striding across and grasping Flora's upper arm firmly but carefully so not to jolt his daughter who was nestled cosily in her mother's arms and a certain bastard footman's best shirt.

"We'll be going now, you can stay and freeze if you prefer Mr Forest but do not come near my wife or daughter again or I swear to you now by the time I am finished with you not only will his lordship be looking for a new footman but his carp will suddenly have a new source of food!"

"Walter…" The housekeeper began but whatever protest she was going to make was cut off as her husband frogmarched her out of the gazebo and back up to the house.

- - - - -

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes can I?" Walter finally spat as he practically pushed his wife into Molly's thankfully empty office. "What was it last night? Hmm getting yourself worked up over nothing as usual, so I was late to bed, I have a right to a life of my own don't I? It was only one brandy after all, you can hardly have begrudged me one bloody drink with my colleagues?"

"Oh so you can have a life, one that barely contains me I have noticed!" Flora retorted trying desperately to keep her temper for the sake of her daughter who had started to drift off. "Well I am glad you are enjoying yourself Walter because I am bloody well not, I'm shut up in my room with no one but your mother for company oh and you when you deign to arrive."

"Oh so you consider William Forest acceptable company now do you…After all your promises your still no better than a…than a…"

"Go on say." Flora goaded. "A whore? Isn't that what you want to say Walter, well what's stopping you?" She added her face flushing a sure sign that any moment she would once more burst into tears.

"You are not yourself Madam." Walter added quietly well aware of yet another imminent attack of hysterics. "Perhaps you should sit down and compose yourself, Mother I am sure will be happy to bath and redress our daughter." He added pointedly removing his child from Flora's grasp and heading out of the door without a backwards glance.

Once alone Flora was unable to contain herself any longer and burying her head in her hands she began to cry, floods of tears once more wracking her slender frame. Shivering in the cold room she tried desperately to stop, but the tears kept coming, reaching into her pocket she grasped around for the little bottle that now seemed to be her only constant companion other than her daughter. Bringing it to her lips she gasped when not even a drop was left in the bottle, suddenly panicking as she realised that no sleep would be coming to her that night without the help of her little liquid friend. However it was then she realised that Molly was likely to have a similar substance in her medicine box, and so getting up from the seat she darted around the office looking for the familiar oblong shape.

It took her several minutes to find, and in that time she had worked herself into such a state that she was certain she would be tearing her hair out before long, then suddenly she spotted it hidden under the desk. Pulling it out she squinted in the poor light, fumbling through bandages and salves, mentally tutting at the state in which Molly was keeping it, a sure sign of laxness in other areas, before finally her fingers closed around the top of a bottle. Pulling it out she frowned slightly at the colour, it seemed somewhat darker than the draft Flora normally ingested but by this time she was so desperate she took a deep swig gasping at the unusual strength of the formula slipping the new bottle back into her pocket and her empty one in its place in the box.

For a moment as she headed back to sit by the fire she wondered about her growing need for her nightly medicinal draft but then the familiar calmness of the Laudanum flooded her senses and she drifted away from her everyday cares and worries, her argument with Walter faded into insignificance as she closed her eyes lulled by the potent drug and the heat from the fire as she slowly drifted off into her deep drugged sleep.

- - - -

Sighing deeply to herself Molly Watson made her way down from her office heading towards to the Butler's office, hoping for any sign of the man in question. This had to stop and if Jarvis wasn't going to deal with it head on then Molly Watson, the sister of the infamous Andrew Adams was going to make him. Pushing open the office door Molly took in the sight of the butler sat in his office chair staring despondently into the fire, his shoulders slumped, his brow furrowed and he looked a good few years older than he usually did.

"Mr Jarvis…Walter?" Molly whispered gently reaching out a hand to sensitively rouse the butler from his trance.

"Uhh…ohh Mrs Watson!" The Butler exclaimed practically starting from his seat at the sudden appearance of his housekeeper. "How can I…Is it his lordship?"

"No sir...I wouldn't want to burden you, you seem so…But it's Mrs Corey."

"What's she done now?" Jarvis sighed sadly.

"She's asleep…Asleep in my office I might add and well she won't wake up, I've tried, but she seems well she isn't herself sir."

"Let me guess, every time you go to wake her she seems to stir, muttering something under her breath but then no matter what you do she simply falls back to sleep."

"Well yes!"

"No change then." Jarvis muttered under his breath waving his hand at Molly's puzzled expression. "I don't know what my mother has told you already Mrs Watson but my wife…my wife is not coping as well as we had hoped…."

"And I suppose you have both been great helps?" Molly snapped, after all despite her arguments with Flora before Ellie's birth and their still painful estrangement, she of all people could appreciate the difficulty of married life even if she hadn't the joy of holding her own child in her arms.

"Fine blame me, it seems to be a pattern with your family, but I would have thought that you unlike your brother might even attempt to understand my situation…What with Flora so exhausted I have the delight of caring for my daughter during the night. Perhaps you would both enjoy that experience, hard at work catering to his lordships every whim during the day, then waiting on my daughter's every need at night. You try it that night after night and see how long you last before you cease to feel human." Jarvis retorted bitterly leaning forward and viciously stoking the fire with his blackened poker.

"What is wrong with Flora Mr Jarvis?" Molly asked softly reaching out and taking the poker from his hand and settling herself in the opposite chair. "Please tell me, perhaps I can help?"

Snorting in derision as he played with his cuff distractedly before answering. "We aren't sure… Dr Evans says it is perfectly natural for a new mother to be…unstable emotionally…A post natal side effect apparently, but I think it is more than that, sometimes she seems normal then the next day she will fly off the handle, she isn't rational. This afternoon we argued and she ran away taking Ellie with her, she didn't even think about the weather or the consequences she just stormed out and then I found her with…Well that doesn't matter but I am worried to leave her alone with our daughter."

"You don't think…You couldn't possibly think she would hurt Eleanor surely?" Molly asked shocked to the core.

"Not deliberately, but what if she got so angry or paranoid that she left her somewhere dangerous…I just wish I knew what was causing these mood swings, some days she seems better, almost her old self, just more tired and stressed but still my Flora, then other nights its like she is not on the same planet. She barely even notices when I come to bed, then when she sleeps its like nothing can wake her, and she's sleeping later and later in the mornings, there comes times when we've scarcely spoken in days…I am afraid I am loosing her and I honestly don't know what to do."

"Have you tried asking her about it?" Molly asked directly, watching as she man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You men are hopeless. Surely that would be the easiest and most straightforward approach, perhaps she is struggling but talking about it could only help, perhaps she would confide in you if only you asked her directly?"

"Do you honestly think so?" Jarvis asked softly.

"Aye sir I do, it can't hurt can it?" Molly replied soothingly. "But before that would you help me get her upstairs?"

Nodding the butler got his feet not waiting for Molly to follow before heading down the corridor to her office. Pausing on the threshold he crept softly across the carpeted floor, anxious not to wake her as he stood over his wife gazing at his sleeping with such a look of tenderness and pain that Molly had to stifle a gasp.

"I love her so much." Jarvis whispered as he brushed his hand down the side of Flora's face, smiling to himself as his wife unconsciously nuzzled into his caress. "I miss you my love, please come back to me…" He added softly only for his wife's ears and Molly respectfully averted her gaze as he bent down and kissed Flora tenderly on the lips before expertly gathering her up his arms and heading towards the door.

Standing aside Molly let the butler pass her, struggling slightly under his burden. "Goodnight Mr Jarvis."

"Goodnight Mrs Watson." Jarvis grunted with a respectful bow before heading out the door trying not to knock any part of Flora against the doorframe, but still her hand slumped down loosely the contents which had been grasped so tightly as not to be seen before, now clattering to the floor. Immediately Molly leant down grabbing the tiny bottle before it could roll out of sight. Raising it to both their line of sights there was a sudden intake of breath as both read the label simultaneously.

"I think we have an answer to one of your questions Mr Jarvis." Molly replied gravely, watching as the now ashen faced butler turned and without a word stormed up to his quarters.

-- - -

She really didn't know what she was going to do with the pair of them? Bang their heads together perhaps, that may knock some sense into the pair. She understood that at the moment Flora's hormones were all over the place, she'd been there herself, but she couldn't help thinking that Flora was maybe making life more difficult for herself as well as both Ellie and Walter. On the other hand though, Walter was definitely not the most supportive husband. At first he'd been going out of his way to try to make things as easy as possible for her and he still was to a certain extent, but it was clear to all he was utterly fed up with Flora's mood swings…he wasn't the only one either.

Again tonight there had been another argument between the pair of them…well she had guessed this by the furious glare on her son's face as he had handed little Miss Eileánóir over to her earlier. She couldn't even ask what had happened this time, decided that she was simply to tired to get involved into their affairs, as well as tending to Ellie and popping in on Grace later to check she was alright.

While Emily was predicting that she was going to sleep well tonight she heard a soft noise from the back of the laundry. Glancing around she peers through the half darkness. She had been sure the laundry had been empty save herself, she had thought that all the laundry staff had finished their work for the evening and disappeared, leaving her to clean up after Ellie.

She shook her head gently, dislodging the noise from her mind and continued with what she was doing. But then she heard the noise again, louder this time. She now knew she hadn't imagined it and slowly crept into the shadows, arming herself with a large wooden paddle. She was hoping to God that it was simply another Philip Forest that had been dumped there or one or two members of staff up to no good.

But then she recognise the distinctive noise of a window being forced, all two soon a tall, scrawny figure entered the laundry, tiptoeing across the room towards the door. Emily followed behind the man, clutching the paddle with both hands. She obviously hadn't been quiet enough as the man suddenly swung around his fist following and knocking Emily swiftly off her feet.

Her eyes flickered open slightly, her vision blurred. Her head was banging and as she felt up to wave away the wet material being patted on her head, her fingers came across the growing bruise on the side of her face, then up to the lump on her head, where the snatched paddle had finally knocked her unconscious.

The owner of hand moping her forehead noticed her eyes flickering and backed away slightly. He hadn't meant to hurt Emily in anyway, but she had become hysterical the moment he had entered the house through the window. Once he had finally managed to retrieve the paddle from her surprisingly firm grasp, she had began thumping him with her bare hands, without listening to any of his explanations. It had been more of a reflex action when he had hit her across the head with the paddle and he had regretted it straight away.

He had just stared at the lifeless Emily for a few moments before jumping to action, he had dived towards her immediately searching for a pulse. This couldn't be happening again…he wanted to jump up and down the moment he realised she was very much alive. He was jump about to jump back out of the window and leave her alone to recuperate when he suddenly realised…someone found her lay on the laundry room floor they would certainly start an uproar…and if Emily had recognised him his game would be up. He wasn't sure if she had recognised him before he had whacked her but if she had then people would be searching the grounds for him and that was the last thing he needed.

He had therefore been forced to make a quick decision, he had used all the strength he had left and picked her limp form up and carried her out of the window and across to the bake house. He knew it was risky here, but his own little hideout was too far away for him struggle with her and besides if she did somehow sneak away without his knowledge at least she wouldn't give away his key hidey-hole.

Emily winced as she sat up, her sight clearing as she glanced around, trying her best discern where she was and why she was there. As her eyes came across the figure lurking in the corner it all came flooding back to her. She backed away slightly, attempting to determine whether she would be able to run to the door in her dizzy state. She quickly realised there was nothing for it and made a dash but he was too quick for her, reaching out and grasping her wrist firmly. He swung her round to face him, planning on beginning a long winded explanation to make her understand but her mouth fell open as she looked at the man properly for the first time.

He was more pale and thin since he had last seen her. His hair was longer and the stubble covering his chin added a good couple of years onto his face. Looking at him now, Emily was no longer scared off him. In fact she couldn't help thinking he looked quite feeble and pathetic.

"Please give me a chance to explain Mrs Corey," George pleaded, the needy expression in his eyes making Emily stop for a moment and consider whether she wished to give George a chance to explain. She knew the reason George was here, Grace of course. Emily felt like Grace was her responsibility at the moment, so perhaps if she gave George a chance and listened to him she would be able to decide whether to inform Grace he was there or inform her son and the police. She felt she was a pretty talented judge of character so why not give him the chance to explain himself.

"Go ahead then…"

"Do you think she'll ever believe me?" George sighed slumping to the floor as he finished his story. He had been pacing up and down the whole time, occasionally glancing at Emily to check she was still there and hadn't run to the house to alert the house of his presence at Taplows.

"Well some of the rash decisions you've made over the last year would indicate a guilty conscience, buying a gun for example. Or perhaps breaking out of prison, then attempting to break into Taplows and hitting an old lady across the head." He smiled slightly, as he heard her chuckle.

"Sorry about that," he muttered awkwardly.

"Well I believe I did try to attack you…" Emily trailed off, the whole situation now seeming quite amusing to her. "Even so though you shouldn't have been breaking into Taplows to get a glance of Miss May. Do you realise how risky that could be if say…Frank Keneally found you."

At the sound of Frank's name George's face clouded over in anger and he clenched his fists tightly. "I must admit I wasn't just trying to get a glance of Grace, I was hoping to sneak something that I could eat into my pockets from the kitchen. I managed the other night. No one was around though."

"How long have you been lurking around here for goodness sake?" Emily asked exasperated, suddenly realising she'd been with him nearly all night. The sky outside was getting lighter, she had to get back soon before Walter or Flora noticed she wasn't there or worse someone came to the bake house for something for Mrs Watson or Felix. She didn't even want to imagine the consequences if someone found her lurking with an escaped convict in the Taplows grounds.

"A couple of weeks…and so far I've not seen Grace once," he moaned, screwing up his eyes.

"She's been spending her days off in the house since she returned from India."

"Has she mentioned…me at all?" Emily smiled at him, nodding gently.

"She tries her hardest not too, tries to convince herself she couldn't care less about you, but I've seen through her lies." Emily paused for a moment thinking about Frank and what George would do if he knew Grace was going through such pain at his hands. Emily considered warning George of Frank for a moment, before realising it wasn't her place and that he would probably do something drastic again like storm straight into the house through the front door and attempt to shoot Frank in the head.

"Really?" George asks, a smile appearing on his face again. "I have to see her," he sighed again, more to himself than to Emily, but as Emily heard his words a plan began to form in her mind.

"George, after hearing the story from your own lips I think it is safe to say I have believed every word you have said and I'm sure Grace would too if she heard the words from you-"

"But that is impossible, I'll never get enough chance alone with her to be able to ex-"

"Mr Cosmo," she cut across him, "please allow me to finish…" she paused for a moment, "as I was saying, if she heard the words from you I'm certain she will believe you. I also know that there is absolutely no way you can set foot in Taplows again. It is far to risky, the next person to find you may not be as willing to sit back and listen as I have been. If you promise me that you will lay low, then I will make sure that you have regular food and drink and I will promise to find some way of getting Grace to talk to you. Does that sound reasonable enough to you?"

"That sounds…well it's a perfect plan. You are a very special woman, something I believe runs in your family," he murmured, recalling the number of times Mr Jarvis had saved his arse as well. After reassuring Emily that he wouldn't set foot near the house, she told him she'd take some food to him sometime after lunch and then that evening she'd attempt to mention the subject of George to Miss May.

- - -

The new Member of Parliament for Northavon stepped out of the carriage and breathed in deeply, a broad smile across his shaven face. He cast a glance up at the familiar old house before him as the summer sun burst its way out from behind a wispy cloud and warmed him through, a wonderful welcome on his return. Only one more thing could make the scenery more perfect and light up his life, but to his disappointment she wasn't there waiting.

"Ah My Lord, welcome back and congratulations on your victory." The butler stepped forward and bowed, but the MP tipped his top hat, reaching out his right arm and taking him firmly by the hand, shaking it warmly.

"Why thank you, Mr Jarvis, it is superb to be back." Lord Montague responded cheerily, in contrast to Jarvis' rather staid tone of voice. "It hardly feels like two months! I'm so sorry to be a pain and take over Algie's wonderful home again, but it won't be for very long I am sure, I am hoping to buy Avon House."

"I notice the emphasis on the 'I', my darling. I for one cannot bear Thornbury; an awfully dreary place, and as for Avon House I'm surprised it is still standing it is in such a frightful state!" A shrill voice exclaimed from within the carriage followed by a rustle of skirts. The butler's already stern expression fell further. This was most unexpected.

Monty sniffed, smoothening down his waistcoat. "There is no need to be petulant, Francesca, you can always stay in Scotland. I have explained that to you."

"Well aren't you going to help me out of the carriage, Monty!" Lady Francesca Hamilton-Hussey ignored the offer of assistance from Charlie, sweltering in the heat in his itchy, sweaty footman's uniform, and draped her gloved hand over her husband's shoulder. Monty rolled his eyes but without fuss guided his wife down the carriage steps. A little further away the children stood in a line by their carriage, as well behaved and solemn as ever. The young, seemingly inexperienced nanny struggled down from the carriage and caught Charlie's eye and blushed, but the butler hardly noticed as he unwittingly laid eyes on his great nephew for the first time. Baby Oliver gurgled happily in his nanny's arms, the trauma he had suffered during his early birth unapparent except that he was rather small. No doubt, Jarvis thought, the little blighter thought it was this slip of a girl who was his mother.

"So where's the old boy, then, Jarvis?" Monty enquired with a swing of his cane as he marched ahead with the butler through the front door. Franny huffed, clicking her gloved fingers for the children – and the nanny – to follow in solemn obedience.

"I'm afraid His Lordship has been suffering with a chill these past weeks, m'Lord." Jarvis replied, but without much sympathy in his voice. "But he is certainly looking forward to seeing you, not two days ago he was saying what a delight it is to have Your Lordship stay here while you find a suitable residence." Years of bultering had taught Jarvis the art of being marginally economical with the truth when required with those of aristocratic tendencies. It seemed to placate them enough, and the pleased smile across Monty's lips told the butler he hadn't lost his touch.

"May I enquire, Lord Hamilton-Hussey, but where is Lady Rebecca and Master Hugo?" Jarvis shot a glance along the hallway where Adams had decided to hover. He had a perplexed look on his face, but other than his expression ruining his appearance he was the smartest Jarvis had seen since….well, since the last time Lady Rebecca was staying. He had had his hair cut, this time in Tappleton and not by Johnny let loose with a pair of garden sheers, and his sideburns were far shorter than people were used to.

Adams took a step closer and did his best not to flinch when Lady Francesca's voice carried around the hallway like an appalling music hall act.

"Rebecca? Oh, she's breastfeeding." Franny announced in her most mocking tone. Her husband glared at her while Jarvis flushed crimson in embarrassment at such a crass explanation. Adams simply looked concerned.

"Oh Francesca, why do you have to be so frank about such matters!" Monty hissed, noticing Jarvis' desperate awkwardness. "What she means is, Rebecca took advantage of the lovely day and decided to pass the morning in Tappleton with Hugo because it was time for his luncheon."

"Yes, well, good job that carriage of hers has good, thick curtains, that's all I have to say." Franny interjected with an unladylike snort.

Jarvis knew full well that certainly wasn't all Francesca Hamilton-Hussey had to say, on that matter or any other, and if it struck the Lady that she would very much like to say more then God help any soul who tried to stop her. Meanwhile Joe and Fred, on door duty, could barely contain themselves. Fred was controlling his laughter so hard he had bitten his bottom lip until it drew blood, but one sharp glance from their butler and they settled down. It would now be a race to see who could tell the story first in the servants hall at lunch time – once Mr Adams wasn't around, of course.

Franny quickly realised that she was being sniggered at so began to touch her forehead with the back of her hand in an attempt to feign a headache. "The journey was such a haul, I'm positively done in!"

"My darling, we have only travelled from Thornbury this morning, and you slept extremely soundly last night so I am at a loss to see why you should be so tired. I do hope there isn't something you're not telling me!" Monty didn't usually like to make a joke at his wife's expense, but she had been such a positive pain during the week-long journey from the Highlands and he was sick of the sight of her. Everything had been something to moan about – the carriage was too bumpy, the seats were too hard, the weather was too sunny, or too cloudy, or too rainy.

Jarvis felt even more out of place. He knew only too well that a man and wife needed privacy for such candid discussions and all he wished to ask was if His Lordship would like to join the Earl in the (extremely hot) drawing room.

Franny's retort was more than enough to give Joe and Fred another cause to laugh silently and painfully into their neckties.

"Why, oh why are you always down my throat, Montgomery!" Lady Francesca fumed as she waved away the children. The eldest, Christopher, had stepped out of the neat formation and Oliver had begun to stir so it was far more than she could cope with. Even Jarvis himself nearly had to laugh at that unfortunate comment.

"My dear, the phrase is JUMPING down my throat, the misplacement of one little word may get you into trouble in the future and we don't wish to be inconvenienced with any more of that sort of business, do we?" Monty responded coolly as the tears streamed down the footmen's cheeks.

Humiliated, Franny snapped to Jarvis that she wished to eat her luncheon in her room and was not to be disturbed before thumping her way up the grand staircase. Julian was at the top, burping and waving at her but she ignored him completely, almost knocking him over the edge as her marginally bulky frame pushed past him.

Monty nodded a greeting at Adams, who responded with a relieved half-smile. Rebecca was on her way, soon she would be with him and he could take stock of his three month old son who would have grown so much since he last saw him. He couldn't help fear for his sister, however. Her lover was back and she was already stressed enough with running the house without a man to distract her. It would be his own hypocrisy to tell her to end it, but he was worried for her health. As for concern for himself, he wondered how much time he would be able to give Rebecca once she arrived. With Jarvis' continuing erratic behaviour he would have to spend far more time downstairs than up; that was if Jarvis didn't watch him like a hawk. He had given him another verbal warning after dinner the night before; he was to not see her otherwise he might find himself unemployed. This made Adams' task difficult, but not impossible. He would have to pay her visits at odd times, even if it meant 3 o'clock in the morning, but he vowed he would see her. He would enlist Elizabeth's help, and Molly's, if she didn't have enough on her plate, but Walter Corey, nor any man – nor woman – was going to stop him from seeing the family he had waited so long for all his life.

- - - -

It was late the next morning when Jarvis made his way back up to the rooms he shared with his wife and daughter, he had left his mother watching them both early that morning to attend to the preparations for the imminent arrivals but now all that hoopla was over he was free to return to the one thing that had dominated his thoughts, both sleeping and waking, since the evening before.

As he slid into their rooms he nodded at his mother who smiling indulgently and rose out of her fireside seat.

"Has she woken yet?"

Shaking her head sadly Emily patted his arm. "No my dear, but I managed to get Ellie to at least take something from her feeder, not that she was in the least bit happy about it I might add, screamed bloody murder at me before she wore herself out…I cannot believe that didn't wake Flora."

"Why don't you go get yourself something, I can watch over them while you take a well deserved break…" Walter suggested, placing a grateful kiss on his mother's cheek before she turned and left. Walking over to his daughter's bassinette which had for necessity been moved into the sitting room, he peered down a tender smile gracing his handsome face as he marvelled with delight at the tiny little girl who was sleeping so peacefully under his mother's handmade blanket.

Having assured himself that one of the females in his world was safe and sound Jarvis felt free to turn his attention to the other, whose condition was giving him far more cause for concern. Entering their bedroom his eyes struggled to penetrate the gloom, but they quickly adjusted and before long he could make out more than just his wife's outline on the bed, she had her face turned away from him but he could see the curve of her jaw and cheek against the stark comparison of her ebony hair which was draped across her pillow and only the steady measure of her breathing gave him any sign she was still alive.

"Why Flora?" He asked softly, knowing she would not answer but still the weight of the question plagued him. Last night he had been so furious with her, unable to sleep beside her unnaturally still and silent form he had spent most of the night pacing around the sitting room at first trying to persuade a hungry Ellie to accept a feeder instead of her mother, which in itself was no mean feat, then when his daughter had finally slept he battled with his own demons. How should he deal with this, part of him just wanted to grab her and shake her till he shook some sense into her, the rest was simply consumed with worry at her seeming inability to confide in him at all; how long had she been using such potions as a crutch?

Oh he knew exactly what was in that little bottle she had been clutching so tightly, Laudanum, was its technical name but there many other less androgynous descriptions that were not as complimentary and hinted at its true nature. He had seen the effects of this drug combined with others, why Taplows last mistress Lady Lydia had been an unsuspecting victim of it combined with Morphine, prescribed by her very own doctor. Had Flora been housekeeper back then he was sure she would not have so foolishly started taking such an addictive and potentially fatal drug, or at least he hoped to God it was ignorance rather than any darker motive that had gripped his beloved wife.

Sighing out loud he sank down beside his wife on the bed reaching out and stroking her hair gently. "Flora….Flora its time to wake up." He whispered softly in his wife's ear, relieved as she shifted to face him, her eyes starting to flicker open as she stirred from her sleep.

"Walter?" She croaked quietly. "What…?"

"We need to talk Flora and I think you know what about." Jarvis replied softly but firmly.

"No I...If its about Will I told you nothing happened, and I can't apologise again about getting caught out by the weather…"

"No it's not about that…It's about you recent behaviour and the cause…I know about the sleeping drafts you've been taking." Walter replied trying to keep his voice low, soothing and unthreatening.

"I…"

"There is no need to try and deny it Flora I found the bottle in your hand. Now I am not going to start shouting the odds, but I won't pretend that I accept or will accept this…Did you even know that stuff could kill you…" Jarvis added, his attempts to keep a non-confrontational tone failing as his voice tightened as his face clouded with anger.

"Don't overreact Walter…" Flora began dismissively trying to swing herself out of bed and away from her clearly demented husband. "I've been using it for years and I haven't died yet!"

"YEARS!" Walter suddenly gasped jumping out of bed and grasping her shoulder roughly.

"Yes years its perfectly harmless, why else would you be able to buy from a pharmacist?"

"You can buy Rat poison from a pharmacist so I hardly think those unqualified ruffians are a mark of safety!" Jarvis spat angrily. "Haven't you heard a word I said, its poison, even if it doesn't kill you now it will ruin our lives, it already has!"

"How?"

"You're not yourself, you're an emotional whirlwind, one minute your almost yourself just a little more stressed than usual, the next your acting irrationally and paranoid, flying off the handle over the slightest thing…Can you honestly tell me you were in your right mind when you took our precious girl out into that rain storm?" Jarvis snapped tightening his grip on her shoulder.

"That's not fair!" Flora snapped tears beginning to form in her eyes at her husband's coldness. "You yelled at me…"

Sighing as he recognised yet another fit of hysterics coming on unless he changed his approach Walter pulled his wife into his arms holding her tightly until her breathing returned to normal. "It's alright sweetheart I am not angry at you, only worried sick for you and my daughter, I want you safe and well and with me forever can you understand that?"

"Yes…" Flora snuffed into his shoulder gripping his shoulders tightly. "I just…"

"Please Flora go on it will help to let these things out, I am here to help if you let me, but I can't if you won't let me in my love."

"I just…I've always used it when things got to much…My father & brother…Jean-luc…Lord Harry…but then it was always once or twice just to make it stop for a little while but this time things were different nothing makes it stop Walter…I try so hard but every second, it doesn't stop, its like wading through glue, every movement is so hard, just getting up in the morning is like climbing a mountain and Ellie never stops, if I'm not feeding her I'm changing her or bathing her or singing to her or trying to stop her from screaming the house down!"

"But she's a baby it will get easier…You just need a routine, like when you were housekeeper, you'll have her trained in no time…"

"I know…In my head I know what you are saying is right and there are times I am sure I can do it. Then other's its just too much only my love for her keeps me going…I can't let you both down, we've wanted a family for so long, I just needed a little something to help me get some sleep and then….then well I needed a little sip every now and then just to help me through the day and then….Oh Walter I knew I was taking too much too often but then it didn't seem to matter anymore…It seemed I was just waiting until I could take another draft…But I've always been able to control it before, and its not harmed me honestly…"

"But what about Ellie?" Walter whispered. "Your behaviour effects her as well…You're feeding her Flora, she depends on you, what if gets into her system she's not as strong as you, not to mention the impression she will be developing of her mother, someone who is either unstable or too asleep to tend to her."

"I hadn't thought of that." Flora muttered, her eyes tearing up at the thought. "Oh Walter I would never put her in danger but its just so hard…I don't even know if I can stop…I want to everything to go back to how it was, I don't want to feel like this anymore but I don't know how." She added turning and burying her head back into his shoulder, finally letting down the last barriers keeping him out.

Shocked at his wife's admission Jarvis held her close, unwilling to admit that he too had no idea how they could combat this. "It will be alright Flora I swear it, we will do this together as long as you don't keep me out or hide things from me and I'll try to find someway to help, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Thank you, with you by my side I know I can do better." Flora insisted firmly pulling away and wiping at her eyes. "I need to start as I mean to go on, a new start for all of us." She added firmly gazing into her husbands' eyes and forcing a small smile onto her face. "I can do this…I can Walter, you do believe me don't you?"

"If you say you can then I believe you my love." Walter replied automatically but there existed at the back of his mind a lingering doubt that it wouldn't be as easy as Flora thought, but when it got difficult he would be there, from now on he swore his family would come first.

"Now are you ready to face the world?"

"I am…I suppose Ellie is hungry after all…"

"Mother managed to get something down her earlier, she's asleep now but I am sure she would much rather be with her mother than stuck with her stuffy old duffer for a father…"

"You're not old!" Flora retorted, smoothing his hair back from his tired face. "You're just worn out, we all are Walter. Now I need to dress, would you watch over Ellie for a moment longer I will be out directly."

"Of course my darling, don't be long it will seem like an eternity." Walter replied gallantly.

Waiting until the door had shut firmly Flora dashed over to the wardrobe, fumbling through her assorted dresses until she came across her little jewellery box which contained a smaller yet still half filled bottle. Shaking slightly she brought it to her lips, pausing she quickly pulled it away forcing the stopper back in the bottle, no not now, Walter was right she had been taking to much…Perhaps if she went back to taking it like she used to, only a drop to help her sleep at night, after all he had never noticed before, and a drop couldn't hurt either her or Ellie now could it.

Placing the bottle back in its hiding place Flora picked out Walter's favourite dress, the one he had brought her for Christmas last, she could just about fit back into it, it was only slightly tight over the bosom but then he would hardly think that a bad thing. Then with a quick brush through her long locks she tied her hair up and placed a fresh crisp cap over her curls, a hint of rouge on her pale cheeks. There she was ready to face the world and she headed out into the sitting room, an indulgent smile gracing her features as she spotted her husband cooing over their daughter who had obviously woken up.

"Well?" She asked expectantly, doing a little twirl. "Do I pass muster Mr Corey?"

Glancing up Walter's jaw dropped open in surprise.

"Shall I take your silence as a yes?"

"Flora i….You look breathtaking."

"Well that will do I think." Flora replied crossing the room to lean over her husband's shoulder a fake smile plastered on her face as he kissed her on the cheek his spare arm sliding round her waist as he pulled her close unable to resist trailing his lips down the slender curve of her neck that this dress emphasised perfectly.

"I wish I didn't have to go back to work." He murmured against her neck.

"Well somebody has to earn our keep." Flora teased trying to pull away from her husband's caresses, perhaps she had underestimated the effect of this particular dress she had worn it at their reception after all and no doubt it held a particular association in her husbands mind.

"Well we don't want to end up on the streets now do we Miss Ellie…I'll see you for lunch, you'll join the staff today I insist, Ellie will behave if I ask her…And no buts." He added on seeing her initial protest.

"Yes Walter." She obediently replied, taking their daughter without a flinch watching as her now content husband went back to his world without a clue as to her real intentions, waiting until the door shut behind him before collapsing into the fireside chair as if deflated.

"Just me an you again Ellie and you won't go telling Daddy on me now will you?" Flora muttered rocking her restless daughter before finally getting on with the usual monotony that had become her life.

- - - -