Hester's Hope

Hester protested rising and walking to him. Squatting before his chair she rested her hands on his arm. “You know I won’t leave you. Mr. Payton will simply have to let me come and go as I see fit.”
Cecil raked his hands through his hair. This was not going the way he had hoped. Miss Johnson had, in one day, managed to get more from the children than all the others before. She had given them a sense of purpose, and he needed her there at his side.
“You can work as the butler,” Cecil blurted turning to Mr. Johnson. “Mrs. August can help you learn your responsibilities. It will help me as well. I can’t have Joe and George answering the door as well as dealing with their other jobs.”
“I,” Hester turned back to her uncle. “What do you say?”
Hyke scratched at his neat beard. He had never even been in a fancy house like this. What did he know about being a butler? Of course it was an opportunity that could change Hester’s life. A job well done here could mean a better position in life later. “I guess we could give it a try.”
Cecil sagged against the fireplace, thankful for the support it offered. They would stay. A glimmer of hope sprang into his heart at the knowledge he had another ally in this daunting endeavor.
“Wonderful!” he all but shouted. “Hurry home and be here first thing in the morning. No wait.” He waved a dismissive hand, hurrying to the hall and calling the young man who had opened the door hours earlier. “Joe, fetch the carriage and see the Johnson’s home. You’ll call on them first thing tomorrow and bring them and all their worldly possessions back here.”
The young man nodded hurrying to comply.
“Tomorrow you will move here,” Cecil said striding to Mr. Johnson and taking his hand, then moving to Hester and grasping her hand. “We’ll arrange everything. I know you’ll be happy.”
The smile and sense of hope filling Mr. Payton’s eyes shot through Hester in a wave of delight. Her hand, warm in his seemed to thrum with a heat she had never known before. “Thank you.”
Mr. Payton bent at the waist, brushing a kiss across Hester’s hand. “No thank you.”

Chapter 7
By the next day, Hester was settled into the big house in a whirlwind of activity. The doorman, Joe, had collected them early that morning, helping to load their meager possessions into the coach and whisking them off to the big house. As positions went, Hester couldn’t have asked for better, but a strange unease accompanied her as she took up her new post.
Mrs. August gave Hester a hard look as her things were deposited in the room formerly occupied by the respectable governess who had fled the day before.
“I can’t say I agree with Mr. Payton’s decision,” the housekeeper grumbled as she showed Hester to her new room. “It’s not right a girl like you taking a place like this. There are other women far more suited to the job.”
Hester bit her tongue not willing to upset the housekeeper further, even as a smart retort lingered on her lips. If there were others so well suited to the job, where were they? It seemed that so far none had had tenacity to hold their ground. Hester hadn’t asked for any of this, but she wasn’t about to turn down a position she was fully capable of filling, or the generous pay and provision it afforded.
Mrs. August opened the door to a simple, yet well appointed room, with a large bed, cupboard, and wash stand. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” the sharp faced matron snipped, letting Hester proceed into her new accommodations before closing the door behind her with a resounding click.
Hester sagged against the wall of the pretty room, already exhausted before the day had begun. That morning she had put on her best dress and polished her shoes before the sun had reached the horizon. Now she wanted nothing more than to put her things away and gain some perspective for the job at hand. Organizing her room would help her feel settled and at peace, she was sure.
“Hester,” the door burst open and Beverly waltzed in, her brother on her heels. “Mrs. August told us you had arrived. What will we do today? Did you decide who won last night? Can we go to a show?”
The children’s questions bounced around the room like a ricocheting bullet, puncturing the spot just between Hester’s brows and bringing on a frightful headache.
“Slow down Beverly,” Hester sighed. “I’ve only just arrived. I’m sure in time we’ll get to all your questions. Have you had breakfast yet?”
“No, no one brought our trays.”
Hester nodded, looking longingly at the two small bags that had been left on the four poster bed. Putting her belongings away would have to wait. The children would have to come first.
“I believe you are old enough to eat in the dining area,” she said. “Come along, and we’ll see about some food. Two growing children like you need to eat properly.” Hester stretched out her hands waiting until the children grasped them then stepped back into the hall, a look of determination on her face.
The trio had just started toward the stairs when Hester glanced through the open door of Jonas’s room and pulled them all to a stop. “Jonas, where is Hebbie today?” she asked.
“In my pocket,” the boy answered.
“I’m sure Hebbie would much rather have his breakfast in the comfort of his own home,” she said. “Please put him in his jar and offer him a grass hopper or whatever you have then we will proceed.”
Jonas dropped his head but did as he was told, gently pulling the little black snake from his pocket and placing him gently into the jar before opening  a match box and shaking a cricket into the jar.
“Thank you,” Hester smiled warmly at the boy. She would have to make a