The views were also likely the correct views, but people who knew so thoroughly the right thing to do always made Louisa itch.
"I am looking forwards to meeting them," Louisa said, trying to be the right level of cheerful without sounding overeager. She was sure she had hit it completely wrong and ended up sounding instead a little unbalanced, but it warranted little more than a raised eyebrow from Mrs. Brooks. "Shall we be having tea together often?"
"Eventually, you will most likely have regular interactions with them, but for now it is just an introduction," Mrs. Brooks said quellingly.
Why would it be just an introduction? Was this not her entire purpose for being there?
Louisa was going to ask but they were at the drawing room and Mrs. Brooks looked as though she very much wanted to move on to the official part of the introductions, so she kept her mouth closed and followed her into the room.
There, on a little velvet settee in front of a window that overlooked the grounds, sat two tiny children, staring back at them with large, serious eyes. Their hair was perfectly arranged, their clothes clean and neat, and far too formal for an introduction to the woman who was functionally to be their mother from here on out.They look like dolls,Louisa thought with a little pang. Children should never look so stiff.
Summoning a smile, Louisa overtook Mrs. Brooks and approached the children, kneeling down in front of them. A slight hiss, rather like air being let out of a teakettle, soundedbehind her, which she chose to ignore in favor of saying, "Hello. I'm your Aunt Louisa. Would you like to introduce yourselves?"
Something a little like surprise flickered in the children's eyes, both of them glancing above her head to where Mrs. Brooks stood behind her, before the little girl decided to speak. "I'm Abigail, my lady, and this is Kenneth."
That tiny little voice was far too formal for a child her age, especially among family, and Louisa didn't like it one bit. Still, it wouldn't do to overstep and attempt to overrule Cedric on this matter, at least so soon in their marriage, so instead of instructing them to call her Aunt Louisa she smiled again and said "I'm very glad to meet you. I hope in time we will be great friends."
"I must speak to Cook now, my lady," Mrs. Brooks said, a trace of disapproval in her voice that made Louisa's insides knot. "So I shall leave you to get acquainted. I shall be back shortly."
As the sweep of Mrs. Brooks skirts died away, Louisa felt her relief turn into panic. She knew nothing about these children, bar their being her husband's niece and nephew, and for their part they seemed unlikely to come up with the sort of questions common to children of their age. How on earth did one draw out such serious little people without a friendly adult figure to bridge the gap between them?
"How do you like it here?" she ventured brightly, wincing inwardly as the two of them glanced at each other before the girl, Abigail, answered again.
"It's a very lovely estate and we are very grateful to our Uncle for taking us in," she said, an air of suspicion about her as if this might be a test.
"Oh, yes," Louisa fumbled. "Me too. I mean I am also grateful to your Uncle for bringing me here." Talking to five year olds was not meant to feel like being left unattended with strangers at a ball and yet.
Abigail's eyes flicked sideways toward her brother again and Louisa thought there might be a test here after all, and that she was failing it. "It's a very pretty estate isn't it, do you like to play in the gardens?" she tried.
"The gardens are very pretty," Abigail said, while Kenneth played with his fingers, eyes fixed on his lap. The Mrs. Brooks induced knots in Louisa's stomach grew larger. Children normally loved her so how was she failing so badly here now that it mattered the most?
"They are, aren't they?" she said inanely, trying not to show how awkward she felt on the outside where they might see it. "I loved to play outside at your age."All children like to play outside Louisa you dolt.Clearly the children were just as unimpressed by her attempt at conversation as her inner critic, as Abigail was still watching her with that unsettling, far too serious gaze, Kenneth still absorbed with his fingers.
"Do you have a favorite toy?" Louisa tried desperately, wilting inside when Abigail said "No."What kind of child doesn't havea favorite toy? Do they not have toys?She was going to have to ask Cedric about this because something wasn't right here.
"Well what do you like to do?" she eventually said, hoping her frustration wasn't noticeable to the children. The last thing she wanted was to make them afraid of her.
Abigail continued staring at her in silence, and unless Louisa was wrong there was something challenging about the way the child was doing that, but then, seemingly to both of their surprise, Kenneth spoke up. "I like storybooks," he said shyly. "Mama and I used to read them together."
Oh thank goodness,Louisa thought,I can work with this."I love storybooks too, maybe we can read one together, would you like that?"
Abigail was definitely looking suspicious and now Louisa was actively concerned but little Kenneth lit up. "Yes please! No one else wants to now that we live here."
Abigail glanced at her brother sharply and then said, "I'm sure her ladyship won't have time for us either. She's very important and busy."
Louisa's mouth opened at that. Abigail was sounding the words out carefully, clearly repeating something someone else had said to her. She had a good mind to march to Cedric's office right now and have it out with him, because ignoring children certainly wasn't giving them the 'best of everything' no matter what he might think. Thankfully they were all saved from Louisaattempting to ask any more questions, and possibly saying something unfortunate about their uncle, by the return of Mrs. Brooks. She busily swept her away to the next very important thing before she could do more than wish the children a good day.
It had been a long time since Cedric had had a few short moments to spend in his study with his papers and the demands on his time had only grown the longer he had been the Earl. There were letters and contracts and missives from contacts to reply to as well as accounts to peruse and his social calendar to manage.
He had a small glass of sherry on one side and a pile of paperwork before him, quill in hand and his desk chair directed towards the view out his study window. Despite this, and his need for time, quiet and focus, he found his thoughts drifting back as always to the children. Were they having a pleasant day? How had the introductions between them and his new bride progressed?
It was in retrospect fortunate that his marriage to Lady Bettie had not gone ahead as she would have prioritized her own child over his in any way she could have, it would have been natural for her to do so. Competition between what would seem to be his own heir and his brother's children would have made dividing the estate upon his death a messy and convoluted affair.
No, it was fortunate that he was instead wed to the Balfour girl. She was a slip of a thing, meek and shy one moment and another standing up to him with a flash in her eyes that was certainly intriguing.
Would the three of them get on? Would she even know how to raise children in the way that would be most beneficial to them?
He would need to ensure that any of their interactions were monitored until he was certain. This was not something he would take a risk on.
