The ups and downs continued over the next couple of weeks, though thankfully the downs weren't as bad as they had been to start. Cedric and Evangeline found a decent balance of family time and private time, though admittedly there were moments they found themselves stealing away to their bedroom knowing once the pregnancy was over so would this spontaneity. Cedric knew better than to expect the remaining seven months would not carry out in this manner. Every moment they had was not to be wasted.

But naturally, their constant need for one another began to wane. Not in a sense that they were disinterested or tired of each other's company, rather they enjoyed the peaceful moments at much as the passionate. Cedric could sit at his desk for an hour or two writing letters while Evangeline read or knit. All the while they were perfectly content not saying a word. Once he was through, he'd come to sit across from her and ask about the book she was reading or the project she was making.

Tonight, it was the latter.

"Something for the baby?" he questioned, patting her knee as he sat.

She nodded. "A swaddle. I'm saving the booties for Tora and Lily. They're keen to learn."

"That will be a nice project for you three."

"Of course, Chrissie and Aggie want to help, too. I've told Chrissie I'd teach her basic stitches for a blanket, but I'll be quite busy instructing the older girls. As for Aggie, I haven't the faintest idea how to get her involved. I don't want her handling the needles just yet."

"A good call," he chuckled. "She's a feisty one. I don't trust her not to go after her brothers with them."

Evangeline smirked. "My thoughts exactly."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

She nodded again. As she did so, her expression dropped, and she fidgeted in her seat.

"What's the matter?" Cedric asked, sitting forward with concern.

"I'm all right," she said lightly. "Only, I suspect the days of morning sickness aren't far off for me. I've felt queasy all evening."

"Why didn't you say something? I would have had cook bring you a broth."

She shook her head quickly. "No, it was all I could do smelling the chicken through dinner. I've been noticing smells more the past couple of days. Is that part of it?"

Cedric shrugged. "Could be. I don't particularly remember Agatha complaining of it, but her worst was the morning sickness. I'm thankful you've held off this long."

"I haven't been sick yet," she said, knocking the arm of the chair with her knuckle. "I'm hoping this is as bad as it gets."

"Me, too."

"It seems to be coming and going. It's a strange feeling. I'm queasy, but it's not a sick queasy. It's peculiar. A little uncomfortable but knowing what it is it's pretty wonderful."

Moving to the floor and kneeling directly beside her, he reached around her knitting and placed a hand on her stomach. "I've been noticing a slight difference."

"So have I," she said with obvious excitement. "If I'm not wearing anything and you know I'm with child you can see it."

"Can we look when we go upstairs?" he asked a bit shyly.

Touching his cheek, she answered, "Yes, but I'm not sure I'm up for anything else."

"I suspected as much."

She sighed, letting him go back to his seat. "I do hope this is just a momentary episode. I'd hate to see our time come to an end."

"We both knew it was temporary."

"I know, but that doesn't make it any easier."

He chuckled.

She was quiet a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask her next question. "Cedric?"

"Yes, darling?"

"… how are we ever going to go back to a rhythm schedule? It was such a chore and clearly I went wrong somewhere. I know the way we've carried on isn't realistic or practical in the long term, but the idea of having to lay in bed frustrated when we want to be together again is going to be torture now."

"I know it's difficult. I don't know what else to do though that isn't drastic and/or potentially harmful."

Setting her knitting aside, she said, "Out of the question."

"We can always see what happens, but to be perfectly honest I'm not sure I can handle going through this again immediately after the first. Please understand that I'm excited—"

Having heard this speech more times than she could count, she held up her hand and stopped him. "I wouldn't ask it if you. I can't go through it again, either."

"Have I been that insufferable?"

"Of course not. It'll just be good to have some time without a potential crisis looming over us."

"Well… we have some time to work out the logistics. You won't have any interest in me for at least a few months after the baby is born."

"I'll believe that," she said with amusement. "Dare I say I'll never let you touch me again."

He laughed. "That's what Agatha said after Simon and Tora."

"Mrs. Blatherwick says most women only remember that it hurts but not actually recall the pain."

"I wouldn't know."

"I know you're worried about the ultimate outcome, but I'm more worried about the process itself. I never prepared for childbirth. I never imagined it until I realized I was pregnant."

"Never?"

"I was destined to be a servant the rest of my life. At best I figured I'd marry as an old woman to some lonely old man. Heavens, am I glad to have missed the mark on that one."

"I'm glad to hear you don't consider me old."

"Not at all."

"I am sixteen years older than you."

"So?"

"A decent argument."

Nudging his foot with hers, she said, "Don't you dare make that a new worry. I have no complaints about our age difference."

"I haven't much, either. Just now and then it hits me."

"Since we're heading into dangerous topics, why not quit while we're ahead and go upstairs to take a look at our baby."

"Excellent idea."

Standing up, she offered him her hand which he readily took as he rose as well. "Hopefully my stomach will settle by the time we're ready for bed…"

"What does the midwife say to do since you aren't liking the smell of food?"

She tensed, though tried to keep it all in her shoulders so he wouldn't feel it in her hand. "Oh… I haven't asked. It's all fairly recent."

Figuring she was embarrassed, he said, "That's her job, love. She's not going to be surprised by a question like that."

"I know… just another twinge of nausea is all…"

. . .

Evangeline knew it was only a matter of time before the midwife was brought up. What she hadn't realized was that Cedric already assumed she'd been meeting with her. Why she played along with this assumption, she wasn't quite sure. He was going to find out the truth eventually.

The truth was she was afraid. Cedric had gone through the wringer with all of this. The kids, too, in their own way. She was left to deal with the repercussions. Ignorance was bliss. So long as she believed she and the baby were fine, she could be strong for them all. If the midwife sensed something wrong? She wasn't sure she could handle it.

She wondered how much longer she could avoid it. Was she meant to visit with the midwife regularly? She wouldn't think so at this point. With Mrs. Blatherwick around she didn't feel so much on her own. Of course come time to deliver the baby she knew she'd need someone more experienced in this field. She knew Mrs. Davies well enough from Chrissie and Aggie's birth, and with Agatha having taken a turn for the worse, she'd spent a great deal of time with the woman those terrible couple of nights.

Which was all the more reason she was afraid. Mrs. Davies had helped bring all of the Brown children into the world. She was as connected to this family as herself — if not more. She didn't want one more person fearing for her life. Unfortunately, another midwife wouldn't be an option. It would be an offense to all those involved.

Cedric fell asleep before her that night. Carefully slipping out of his hold, she tiptoed over to the mirror. What little moonlight shone through the windows was enough to capture her silhouette. She looked at herself from the side, keeping her back straight as she touched her bare stomach. It was as she'd said earlier to Cedric. She knew the baby was there and in turn could see it. When covered no one would know aside from the weight she'd been putting on from her constant eating. She had at least a couple of more months to wrap her mind around all of the eventualities.

Retrieving her nightgown from the bedpost, she slipped it over her head before nestling back under the covers. Cedric stirred a bit but to her relief didn't acknowledge her. He turned onto his side away from her, leaving her to her thoughts.

. . .

"How are you feeling, Evangeline?" Tora asked the following afternoon. She'd noticed how little her stepmother ate at both breakfast and dinner. Most unusual as of late.

"I've been better," Evangeline answered truthfully, "but I've been worse."

"Morning sickness?"

"The starts of it, I'm afraid."

"I thought so." She reached into her pocket, then held out two peppermint candies. "Mama would suck on these to help her. Sometimes, cook would boil the leaves from the garden to make a tea."

Taking the candies, Evangeline popped one into her mouth. "Even if it doesn't help settle my stomach, this is the first appetizing thing I've been offered all day," she winked.

"Do you want me to go to the shop and get you some more?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll be going into town for my errands tomorrow. I'll pick some up then."

Tora nodded, and then questioned after a moment, "Does this mean you can feel the baby now?"

"I can," she chuckled, "but I'm not sure if you can yet." Moving her knitting out of the way, she pushed her back into the cushions inviting Tora to feel.

Tora placed a gentle hand on Evangeline's stomach. "It feels different than last time, no doubt."

"I think I have another month or two because it's truly noticeable."

"I'm starting to get excited," Tora said, though not with a great deal of enthusiasm.

"You don't sound it."

She sighed. "I wish I could feel the excitement without the nervousness."

Patting her hand, Evangeline said, "I understand."

"It's like we had talked about a while back; I'm curious what this little one will look like. It will be interesting having a sibling that looks a little bit different than the rest of us."

"I still hope he or she takes after your father."

"But he or she should look like you as well."

Popping the second candy into her mouth, she replied, "I'm sure there will be a hint of me at the very least."

After another pause, Tora asked, "Are we… going to be getting another nanny?"

"What brings this on?" Evangeline questioned with surprise.

"A couple of us got to thinking that maybe you'd be too busy with the baby to be able to handle us all."

"I'm sure I will be busy with the infant, but that's no different from when Aggie was born. And thanks to Nanny McPhee, you lot don't need a nanny. You have your tutor in the daytime. I think that's enough, don't you?"

"I guess we were mostly afraid that you might not care as much about us as you do now. The baby will be your real child."

Reaching out, Evangeline tucked the loose strands of Tora's hair behind her ear. "You may not be mine by blood, but I love you all as though you were my very own, you understand?"

Guiltily, Tora nodded.

"I can't promise that I won't be distracted at first. I've never had a baby of my own, as it were. Even when Aggie was small and your father wasn't there as he might have wanted to be, it was never my place to mother her. You did most of it."

"But you did help."

"And all the while I felt like I was stepping out of place. I felt as though I couldn't kiss her unless she cried or snuggle her simply because I wanted to. I'm sure I spent more time than was proper with all of you."

"How is it improper if we liked having you around? Why do you think we tried so hard to get rid of the nannies? We wanted Papa to spend time with us again, but we were happy with you taking care of us."

Tweaking Tora's nose, Evangeline answered, "The propriety bit is a question for Aunt Adelaide. As for the rest, I'm touched. I can't tell you how many times I insisted with your father that Mrs. Blatherwick and I could handle you mob."

"Did you really?"

She nodded. "But the fact of the matter was that I was your servant. I wasn't trained to take care of you kids."

"What does that matter?"

"A lot, I'm afraid."

Tora shook her head. "I'll never understand all the rules. I dread becoming a grown-up."

"That was one good thing about being a servant," Evangeline said lightly. "Society doesn't care much about you and your behavior so long as you don't make a scandal of yourself. There's little expectation otherwise."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Is this something you worry about often?"

Tora shrugged. "Sometimes before, but really after Aunt Adelaide took you from us. It should have been me being the oldest girl. It would have been me if not for you. I'd never let her take Lily or Chrissie away from Papa. I know she isn't happy about the trick we pulled, but what if she decides one day she wants me betrothed? What if she wants me to go through whatever she put you through that made you speak and dress like a different person?"

Evangeline chuckled. She'd nearly forgotten all of Aunt Adelaide's diction drills by now. "Your father and I won't let her. You will marry whomever you choose."

"But doesn't Papa expect me to marry well?"

"I think he wants what's best for you, but I don't see him coming along with an arranged marriage. He and I are certainly in no social position to intervene. We broke so many 'rules' marrying each other."

"It's so silly. People ought to marry for love all the time."

"I agree. Which is why we will never expect you to marry for anything less."

Tora's shoulders noticeably relaxed. "So, you're not waiting for me to leave home?"

"Are you kidding? Whenever the day comes you decide to leave on your own accord, I will be a weeping mess."

Tora giggled and hugged her stepmother. "I just thought you and Papa were worried about money. If I married then you'd have one less mouth to feed."

"Tora, you're only twelve years old. It's not even a question right now. If there are any expectations for any of you kids, it's the boys. In a couple of years, I suspect your father will push Simon into work, then would come Eric in time. Any extra income will help more than any of you leaving home."

"I suspect Eric wants to go to university."

"Then I'm sure your father will insist on it even if it means beating down Aunt Adelaide's door."

She laughed again.

"I'm sorry you've been worrying about all these things. I know it's difficult living on a tight budget. I'll be honest with you and say that we are a bit worried about what another baby will do to us financially, but at worst it means a little bit of sacrifice from all of us be it hand-me-downs or slightly smaller portions."

"I think Aunt Adelaide should increase the allowance. After all, she was the one who insisted on Papa marrying."

"I think she envisioned him marrying an old spinster instead of me," Evangeline laughed.

"When are you going to tell her?" asked Tora.

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind," she admitted. "I will leave that decision up to your father."

"Maybe I should start worrying that she'll want to take another one of us. That way she wouldn't have to send more money."

"A needless worry, pet. Neither your Papa or me is going to let her make it to the end of the road with any of you."

"Thank you."

"Now… do you think you're still up for a walk?"

Tora raised an eyebrow, then remembered. "Did the sweets help?"

"A little bit, I think. Or perhaps it's the company," she said with a playful pinch of her cheek. "In any case, they were delicious and I could use some air."

"Shall I ask Cynthia to keep an eye on the others?"

"If you wouldn't mind. Only don't tell your brothers and sisters where we're going or we'll have a riot on our hands."

"Can we bring them back something at least?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. "Why don't you grab Aggie, though? It will be easier to keep her with us."

Tora nodded and hurried out of the room.

. . .

"What on earth is this?" Cedric said as he and Evangeline went into the study after supper that evening, immediately eyeing the massive jar of peppermint candies on his desk.

"Tora says they help with the nausea."

"Yes, I remember that helping Agatha... but so many?"

"I've eaten at least two dozen today. I think that's helped me be able to get through half of my dinner."

"I understand, darling... but six more months of this?"

Evangeline shrugged, reaching into the jar for a piece.

After she put it in her mouth, Cedric took her hands as he sat at the desk. "Darling, please keep in mind buying this many sweets adds up quickly. It's all right if it helps you, but perhaps you should buy smaller quantities more often. Because you're not feeling well now doesn't mean this will keep up the entire time."

She frowned. "I used my own money. From my wages."

"I thought we agreed you save that money for an emergency."

Pulling her hands away, she said, "This is an emergency of sorts. We weren't prepared for another baby. I only bought this jar and some treats for the children. I don't see what the fuss is. We won't suffer for it. I earned it."

"I'm not scolding you, Evie. I only want to point out that morning sickness doesn't go on forever. Or doesn't from what I know. You've got about five pounds of candy here. That ought to last you through your next child."

She turned and crossed her arms, saying nothing as she went to sit in her chair.

Resting his elbows on the desk, Cedric took a deep breath as he pressed his palms to his forehead.

He waited a few minutes for her to say something. When she never did and buried her nose in a book, he went on with his letter writing. It was difficult to concentrate with the tension in the air.

It never occurred to him that Evangeline's pregnancy might differ from Agatha's. He knew how to handle his first wife's moods. He knew how not to upset her. Agatha might have laughed off this incident, silencing him by popping one of the drops in his mouth and not saying another word of it. He was going to have to relearn it all. He so easily forgot the usual position Evangeline was in. They hadn't had a lengthy courting. The start of their marriage was the start of a personal relationship that didn't have the constraints of master and servant. They might have broken that barrier without words, but neither of them could have ever looked the other in the eye and admitted that they were friends as well as employer and employee. Months of marriage couldn't erase years of being his subordinate.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Me, too," she replied quietly and without looking away from her book.

"I'd like to replace the money you spent."

"It wasn't that much. I won't dip into it again without your permission."

He sighed as he stood, moving over to his chair across from her. "You're right. You did earn it. It's your money to do with what you want."

Reluctantly slipping her bookmark between the pages, she said, "I want to contribute. You work so hard and I spent so little of what you paid me – even if my contribution only means a treat for us all now and then."

"I appreciate it, but I don't want you to worry about such things. I want to take care of you."

"You do. I'm so grateful for it. Which is why I would never ask for anything extravagant."

He shook his head. "Where have I failed that you consider peppermint to settle your stomach as extravagance?"

"Stop that. You haven't failed me at all. I'm sorry that this all has caused such a fuss. It's just that we were having such fun picking out what the other kids might like. We got carried away. I let us get carried away."

"I reacted poorly. You don't need to be the one apologizing."

"Honestly, Cedric, it's not worth all this. Can we please let it go?"

"I just don't want you to think you can't tell me what you need — or be afraid to. That goes for any time, but especially while you're pregnant."

"I need you to let it go and go back to your letter writing." She reached across to squeeze his hand. "You can also bring me another peppermint while you're up."

His lip twitched but it didn't quite form into a smile.

The air was strange between them the rest of the evening. Cedric finished his letters but didn't pay much more mind to Evangeline. She looked over at him a couple of times, and every time he was frowning.

It seemed like the harder she tried the worse she failed.

She'd had enough after a while and set her book aside. Standing, she walked over to the desk and grabbed a handful of candy, ruing the stuff for whatever melancholia they had managed to spark in Cedric.

"I'm off to bed."

Without looking up, he replied, "I'll be up in a bit."

"Fine."

. . .

Evangeline woke to the sound of Cedric getting ready for bed. She hadn't meant to fall asleep but was annoyed nevertheless. Normally he took care to be quiet when he came to bed after her. He let the door shut with a thud and knocked over a few things on his dresser as he went through the doors.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a dry and sleepy voice.

"Where's my blasted nightshirt?"

Sitting up, she reached beside her and picked up the folded garment.

"I washed it today."

He walked over and grabbed it from her. She was about to make a quip when the smell of alcohol hit her nose.

"Are you drunk?"

"No," he said as he clumsily undressed.

Evangeline huffed. "You are."

"So I had a couple of drinks," he slurred. "A person is entitled to a drink now and again."

Holding her hand in front of her nose, she replied, "One drink is fine. What time is it, anyhow?"

"Dunno."

Reaching into the nightstand drawer, she took out a match and lit the candle beside her. Then standing, she took it over to the clock. "It's after three in the morning!"

He shrugged, pulling on the nightshirt.

"You remember you have work in the morning, don't you?"

"Of course I remember I have work in the morning."

"Look at you," she grumbled, walking over to him after setting down the candle. "You've put it on backward."

"What's it matter?"

She'd started to tug on his sleeve to help him fix it but stopped with this. "You're right. I'll let you see how ridiculous you look in the morning."

He muttered something unintelligible as he turned for bed. He didn't get far, Evangeline catching his arm.

"You're not getting into bed smelling like that."

"I'll bathe in the morning," he said, yanking his arm away though it caused him to stumble.

"I'm not sharing a bed with that stench. I told you that I've been sensitive to smells."

He climbed into bed anyway. "Not much to be done."

"Go sleep in my old room."

He muttered again, his mouth muffled by the pillow.

"Do you want me to be sick?"

"Just sleep."

By his breathing, she could tell he was already out.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "That's the way you want to be?"

Standing at the foot of the bed, she yanked the blankets off, bundling up in her arms as she went for the door. She paused to look back at Cedric who was none the wiser. With a huff, she left the room, letting the door slam shut and hoping it had woken Cedric.

. . .

She had trouble falling back asleep. She was angry with Cedric, yes, but she also had gotten used to having someone sleep beside her. This room used to be her refuge away from the rest of the house. Now it was too quiet and chilly even as the summer months were approaching. She was glad she took the blankets, but that didn't solve how unsettled she felt.

The last time she'd seen Cedric drunk was during those turbulent months after Agatha had died. He tried to hide just how frequently he drank. This kept him from consecutive nights of passing out at his desk.

Evangeline hadn't known what to make of the situation the first time she'd found him. She'd only seldomly seen him with a drink in his hand. That typically coincided with a gathering at the house or a celebration of some sort. Seeing him drunk? She never could have imagined it.

Whether it was due to the situations that made him turn to alcohol or the alcohol itself, he was a depressive drunk. In a sense, she was grateful for this having known some of her masters growing up to beat their wives when on a binge — if not the help. Because of this, she'd been so terrified to wake him. Her concern outweighed her fear in the end, and she moved him to his chair.

The more she thought of it, that night had marked the shift in their less professional acquaintanceship.

"Thank God I still have you around," he'd said, tripping over each word.

"It's my job, Mr. Brown."

He shook his head, wincing in regret seconds after. "You've been good to me. So good. And the kids. Them, too. These last weeks."

"It's been a rough time," she'd said uncomfortably. "Anything I can do to help."

"You're terrific."

"You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

"No…"

"Get some rest, Mr. Brown. I'll bring you back a cup of tea and some water."

If he'd said anything else that night, she hadn't heard or understood.

Looking back, she wondered where the sentiments had come from. It seemed too soon after Agatha's passing for him to have been realizing any feelings for her. If that were the case, she still would have to reduce it to drunken grief. But for as concerned as she had been that night and the subsequent nights that followed a few times over the next months, it never hit her as personally as it did now. And for what? A heated discussion about money? An impulsive trip to the confectionery? That wasn't like Cedric. She wished it was. The actual reason would prove to be more complicated. And whatever it was, it was something she'd indirectly said or done.

If only she had a better sense of his moods. So often these episodes seemed to come out of the blue. He'd seemed in fine spirits when he'd arrived home from work. His mood changed at the sight of the peppermints. All she could figure was that it reminded him of Agatha. Tora had said that she'd learned the trick from her mother. She didn't want to be bitter if this were the case, but it wasn't a reasonable expectation to avoid all reminders. Though this whole thing had made the flavor of the drops unsettling, if the things really were going to work for her, she was going to choose them over getting sick no matter what Cedric thought of it.

. . .

Evangeline woke a couple of hours later with the sun beaming through her window. Her first instinct was to bury her head with her pillow. Gone were the days when she could immediately step out of bed and greet the day. She hadn't much considered herself a lady of leisure as she still enjoyed helping out with the chores around the house, but perhaps she'd grown a wee bit lazy in married life.

More of it now was that her stomach was doing flips. Whether this was the baby or the tense night with Cedric, she didn't know. She closed her eyes for a few more minutes but ultimately decided to go back downstairs. Though she dreaded what she might find, she needed to check on Cedric before the children did. Then perhaps she could convince Cynthia to help her change the sheets so she could rest for the day.

Bundling up the blankets, she quietly made her way down the stairs. She hadn't heard the clock chime. Perhaps the children were still asleep and she could get Cedric up and ready for work in time without a fuss.

But, of course, things couldn't go as smoothly as that.

"Did you sleep upstairs?"

"Oh!" Evangeline jumped at Tora's voice behind her as she came out of the washroom. "Um… not the entire night."

Tora pointed to the blankets. "Isn't that yours and Papa's bedspread?"

"Yes… I thought I'd do some more laundry today."

With an eyebrow raised, she questioned, "Then why are you still in your nightgown?"

Evangeline sighed and conceded. "I needed some space, is all."

"Did you argue?"

Tweaking Tora's nose, she said, "Don't bother yourself about it. People have disagreements. I'm going to see now if your father is awake. Why don't you run off and get dressed?"

"I would have been dressed already if the boys weren't hogging our washroom," she whined.

"I don't envy you. I'm having a difficult enough time sharing a room with one boy," she winked.

Tora chuckled.

"Go on now. Breakfast should be ready soon."

With a nod, Tora started for the nursery.

. . .

Cedric was in the same position she'd left him last night. He snored loudly, completely dead to the world. Evangeline rolled her eyes as she looked at the clock. If she managed to rouse him now, he might make it to work in time.

Going around to his side of the bed, she shook his shoulders. "It's morning, Cedric. Time for work. Cedric… Cedric!"

He let out a groan but didn't move.

"Sober enough to feel the headache now, eh?"

He groaned again.

Evangeline went over to his dresser and then the closet, pulling out his clothes for the day and then bringing them over to the bed.

"You've got to get up and get dressed," she said.

His throat was so dry that his words came out in a whisper. "I… don't feel… well."

"You did a foolish thing and now you're suffering the consequence."

He tried to sit up but lost his balance when he brought a hand to his head. "How many… What did I drink?"

"How should I know?" she scoffed as she went back to the closet to pull out her own clothes for the day. "Be sure to draw yourself a bath. You smell worse than you did last night."

He was only half listening, all of his focus going into standing. "Mhmm."

"Blimey," she muttered as she turned back to look at him, "you can't even stand."

He swallowed hard. "Help me to the washroom…"

"Why should—"

"I'm going to be sick."

She didn't need to be told twice. Dropping the dress and hanger, she was at his side in a second and taking hold of his arm. The best she could do was lead him. The way he towered over her she could hardly support his weight. Her steps were quick, Cedric tumbling behind a pace.

When they reached the washroom, Cedric pushed her out over the threshold and slammed the door. Evangeline didn't protest, hearing him wretch seconds later.

"Is that Papa?" Chrissie asked nervously.

Having been so focused on Cedric, Evangeline hadn't noticed any of the children in the hall.

"Yes…" she replied with apprehension. "He's feeling under the weather."

"I thought you were the one who was supposed to be throwing up?" Sebastian remarked.

She might have laughed under different circumstances. "Come on," she said, shooing now all seven away from the door. "No one wants an audience when they're ill."

"But what's the matter with him?" Lily questioned.

"I do hope it isn't a bug," Eric said. "Then all of us will get it."

"If it's not a bug it could be something worse," Tora said.

"I'm sure it's just something he ate," Evangeline said as they reached the stairs, adding silently in her head, "or drank."

"Are you sure?" Simon questioned. "Papa's never sick."

Aggie fussed.

"Everyone gets sick now and again," Evangeline assured. "Go on downstairs now. I promise he'll be all right."

"Should I fetch the doctor?" Tora asked.

"I don't think that's necessary yet." She humored her. "We'll see."

. . .

Cedric groaned as he came back into the bedroom.

Now dressed, Evangeline turned from the vanity, her hands holding her hair in place as she pinned it up. "Feel better?"

"I don't remember the last time I've been this hungover."

After setting another pin, she stood up and took a peppermint from her pocket. "Ironic isn't it? You need these more than I do."

He grabbed it from her with a huff.

She went on. "Of all the silly things to drink about. I don't understand."

"It wasn't about the blasted sweets."

"Then what was it?"

Dragging his feet over to wear she'd laid out his clothes, he replied, "Can we talk about this when my head isn't throbbing?"

"You did that to yourself."

"I know," he grumbled. "I'm not in the mood to argue. I know you're angry with me. You don't have to remind me."

"Fine," she said coldly. "But we will be talking about it."

"I'm well aware."

"Leave your clothes from yesterday and your nightshirt on the bed. Everything's getting washed."

"I didn't soil the bed for heaven's sake."

"All I can smell is stale alcohol."

Even in his current state, he knew better than to argue the point.

As she headed for the door, she said, "By the way, think of how you want to explain this to the children. Though I must say it's nice for their worry to be on someone else for a while."

"Blast, they heard?"

"They did."

"All right… fine. I'll deal with them tonight as well."

"See that you do," she sniped.

Cedric sat on the bed as soon as she was gone, resting his elbows on his knees as he massaged his temples. Another day, another screwup.