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“Why yes.” Jane said. “The next Baron Ealing needs a dedicated footman, and there is none more dedicated than he.”
When Theodore entered the room, he was the only man amongst a sea of women all bustling and cleaning and helping the new mother.
“Mister Foote, my dear man,” Jane said, knowing everything she said carried a double-meaning, “Come and meet your new master; George Warner, the Seventh Baron Ealing.”
“I am delighted to meet you, young man,” Theodore said, giving the babe a respectful bow. “I shall care for you as if you were my own son.”
Exhausted, Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Their war with the Jardines would most likely never end, but this battle at least, had achieved a hard-won victory.
“Welcome to the family, my little Lord,” Jane said, as the babe gave a lusty cry.
The End
