Hester's Hope

no governess, I’m a maid.”
“I can find another maid,” the man called Cecil snapped. “What I need right now is someone to wrangle my niece and nephew for the evening. Whatever I’m paying you now, I’ll double it if you can just keep them out of my hair for the night.”
“Why are you so dirty?” the boy asked, his dark eyes examining Hester’s apron critically.
“Who’s dirty?” A girl of eleven walked down the stairs, her boots scuffing heavily on each tread.
“Our new governess.” The boy shot back. “She’s ugly too.”
“Jonas,” Cecil growled.
“I don’t want her,” the boy shot back.
“What does it matter Jonas,” the girl drawled twisting a strand of glossy red-gold hair around a finger. “She’ll be gone by tomorrow like all the rest.”
Hester lifted her chin meeting the girl’s dark gaze boldly. The arrogant little whelp didn’t know her if she thought she could be scared away by two pint sized pups.
“Miss Hester, please, just agree to watch the children tonight,” the man beside her hissed, “and I’ll pay you whatever you want. I have a very important dinner tonight and I don’t need them ruining everything.”
Hester turned, mouth gaping at the man’s cruel words. “Very well,” she said, “I’ll do my best.”

Chapter 2
“Why are you so dirty?” the girl asked walking around Hester with a critical glare.
“Because I was hired as a maid, but apparently, I am needed to watch you two instead. I have just finished cleaning the fireplace.”
“Do you like cleaning fireplaces?” the boy called Jonas asked.
A smiled tugged at Hester’s lips and she nodded slowly. “As a matter of fact, it is one of my favorite jobs.”
“Really?” the girl asked eyes wide. “I’ve never heard anyone say they like cleaning before.”
“She’s just joshing Bev, no one likes cleaning anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Hester said looking at the children seriously. “Let me show you.”
Hester turned toward the parlor when the man she assumed was Mr. Payton, smiled, turned on his heel and walked away, saying he was off to find Mrs. August.
The young woman was still reeling from the confrontation with the man and the children, but if he truly would pay her what he promised, how hard could it be to keep two children out of trouble for one evening?
“You see, cleaning isn’t really work,” Hester smiled, placing a finger over her lips. “It’s more like a game,” she spoke smiling at the children’s shocked expressions. “Of course you don’t want other people to know. It’s a secret.” Hester leaned forward drawing the children in. “Do you like games?”
“I like games,” the boy called Jonas agreed. “I always win.”
“Do not,” the girl snapped. “You’re terrible at games. I’m the best.” She lifted her pert chin, garnering a hard glare from her brother.
Hester hid a smile behind a weathered hand.  “Well, let’s find out who is the best,” she sighed. “I’ll give you a task, and you have to complete it. The first one to do so will get one point.”
“What do we do?” The children stepped up to her, eyes intent.
Hester looked around the room, where papers, toys, and odd articles of clothing were scattered. The room looked more like a defunct nursery than a parlor, and that would never do when the family was expecting guests.
“I’m not sure if you can do it. I’d better do it myself to be sure it’s right,” Hester said crossing her arms over her middle, her brow furrowing into a scowl. “After all children like you have never tried anything like this before, so you won’t be able. I was raised to it, you see, I have a knack you could say.”
“Anything you can do I can do,” Jonas snapped, crossing his arms, a mirror image of Hester’s stance.
“I can do it better,” Bev sassed. “Tell us.” Her voice was demanding and her dark eyes bright.
“It does require some skill,” Hester, tapped her lips, eyeing the newspapers scattered about. “I suppose I can show you. If you’re sure you want to try.”
“Yes, show us!” Bev pleaded. “I’ll beat Jonas at this game for sure.”
Hester picked up a paper folding it carefully before rolling it into a tight tube and tucking in the corners to form a snug log of newsprint while both children watched intently.
“I can do that!” Jonas barked.
“So can I,” Bev lifted her nose then sprinted for the nearest stack of papers her brother on her heels.
***
“Mr. Payton you can’t do that,” Mrs. August spluttered as. “The girl is a char, not a governess or even a nanny. She’s not fit to watch the children.”
“Can you think of any alternative?” Cecil ran his hands through his hair once more. He would be bald by the end of the month if he kept this up, and his head already pounded from studying the papers he had been going through. “You’ll have to find someone else to do the cleaning at least for tonight. You know how Beverly and Jonas are. I can’t have them crashing this dinner party and ruining everything. If the stockholders see that I can’t even control two children, how will they feel about my managing the company?”
The stern looking housekeeper nodded. “The children always have been rather lively,” she hedged. “What if the girl can’t handle them?”
“She looked young and fit enough,” Cecil paced across the kitchen. “I left her in the parlor with them. If they haven’t run her off by now, perhaps she’ll stay. I just need her to stick for the night.”
“The parlor,” Mrs. August groaned. “I’ll have to bring in one of those horrid cleaning crews to get the house set to rights,” she shook her head with disgust. A heavy thump from the floor above had both Cecil and Mrs. August racing for the stairs.
***
“I won!” Bev bellowed at her brother from where she sat on the floor. “See my socks are dirtier than yours.”
“Let me be the judge,” Hester said. “So far you are both tied, three all. Let’s see then?”
Jonas flopped down