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of the ruckus. The earl was old enough to manage for himself, and her first responsibility was to the children. His lordship’s well-being only concerned her so far as it affected them.
    “Here I am.” She stooped to catch the child, who had pelted toward her the instant she appeared. “You mustn’t fret anymore. Everything will be all right.”
    Peter hurled himself into her embrace and buried his face against her shoulder, where he proceeded to weep his small heart out. It was all Hannah could do to keep from joining him. For days she had held back her grief, afraid it would prevent her from carrying out her duties. Now it threatened to engulf her.
    “I am not going anywhere.” She stroked the child’s dark hair, which she suddenly realized was the very color of his father’s. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
    Peter would never try any such thing, but what about his father? It occurred to Hannah that she should make an effort not to antagonize the earl. She would not put it past him to dismiss her if she disobliged him once too often. How would it affect the children if she were forced out of their lives—especially sensitive little Peter?
    “I th-thought you went away!” the boy sobbed. “I d-didn’t see you all day.”
    Holding him tight, Hannah backed toward the nearest chair and sank down on it. “I had some matters to see to, and I thought you would have such jolly times with Maisie and Matthew and Mr. Jennings that you wouldn’t miss me at all.”
    Speaking in a soft, soothing voice, she rubbed Peter’s back and pressed her cheek against his hair. She found it difficult to show affection, except with children.
    The child’s weeping eased to sniffles. “Couldn’t Papa look after those things now that he is home from the war? I heard Jane tell Edgar he was back.”
    Hannah stifled an exasperated sigh. How often must she remind the maids and footmen that little pitchers had big ears? Lord Edgecombe was a clever child for his age; he took in more than people realized. What could she tell him about the earl? She did not want to make him worry that his father might soon join his mother in Heaven.
    At the same time, she did not want her young pupil to wonder why his father had failed to look in on him and assume it was because the earl did not care. Hannah was far from certain if that might be true, though she prayed it was not.
    “Your papa is very tired out from the war, and he must rest a good long while.” No doubt her excuse would sound ridiculous to anyone over the age of five, but her young pupil did not question Hannah. “Until then, I must take care of some matters for him the way I used to for your mama.”
    She hoped her mention of the countess would not upset the boy just when he had grown calm. Clearly they could both use a diversion. “Would you like to go visit the babies and see if they have gotten any bigger since last time?”
    A glance and a tilt of her head signaled the nursemaid to fetch a handkerchief. When the girl brought it, Hannah thanked her and set about wiping Peter’s eyes.
    “Visit them now?” The child gave a doubtful frown. “But it is nearly time for tea.”
    “We won’t stay long.” Hannah held the handkerchief for him to blow his nose. “And the fresh air may give us an appetite.”
    Peter seemed prepared to accept the change in routine. “When will the babies get big enough to play with me?”
    “Not for a while.” Hannah helped him on with his little blue jacket and cap. “But it will not be long until they begin to smile at you.”
    She fetched her bonnet, then they headed off to a nearby tenant farm where little Alice had been sent to nurse. All the while Hannah told her young pupil of the changes he could expect to see in his brother and sister, how they would learn to hold up their heads, roll over, sit, crawl, stand and walk. By the time they neared the cottage, Peter was skipping along at her side, asking all sorts of