I felt as if I was moving and as my eyes fluttered open, I could almost make out a figure in the dark, "Freddie?" I croaked, "Where are we going?"

            "I am taking you to bed," I felt the warm breath against my cheek whisper.

            "No, I need to talk to you, Freddie," I tried to fight the sleep but it had taken a strong hold of me.

            "Shush now, Margaret," another voice said, "We can talk in the morning." I let myself drift and listen as the voice continued, "This way, let me turn down her bed."

            I was not moving in the same fashion but I was being held . . . almost cradled, "I'm not a child, put me down, Freddie."

            "Does she always talk this much in her sleep?" the voice closest to me asked.

            "When she was little . . . yes. She would do her best to stay up with us, but sleep always won and then when we would put her to bed, she'd be talking . . . fighting it." There was a rustling, "There you go, you can put her down. I should have Clara come up to help her into her bed clothes . . . um, let me ring for her."

            "I'm not a child, Freddie, put me down . . . " I yawned.

            "And what if I don't want to?" the quiet, warm voice spoke against my hair, "What if I want to keep you like this forever . . . in my arms . . . my darling . . . my poppet . . . "

            My eyes fluttered again, "What are you talking about?" I looked about the dimly lit room and recognized it as my bedchamber, my bed was turned down for me but I . . . I was in the air. I closed my eyes and slowly turned my head towards what I hoped to be my brother's face. I opened one eye and immediately felt the goose bumps run down my arms, "You should not be in my bedroom, Mr. Edgehill," I said trying to sound firm even though I knew I my cheeks were reddening.

            "Well, I could not leave you in the window seat," he grinned, "And since your brother rode in late, the least I could do was to help him get you to your room."

            "And now that you got me to my room?"

            "Um . . . " his smile took an odd turn in the middle as he tried to think of something and then I noticed a faint bit of pink brush his cheeks.

            "Are you blushing?" I asked trying not to sound as astonished as I was.

            "Gentlemen do not blush," he replied and looked at me with one eyebrow cocked up as if daring me to counter him, "well not very often anyway."

            "Hmmm . . . well will you at least put me down?" I asked as I slipped my arms around his neck.

            "I don't think so," he smirked.

            "But my brother is indeed here?" I asked.

            "Yes, he went to fetch Clara."

            "And when he returns?"

            "Oh . . . can I convince you to fall back asleep?" he asked. I shook my head. "No? Well then against my better judgment, I shall set you on your feet." He gently lowered me to the floor and even once I was standing on my own, he did not rush to pull away.

            "Against your better judgment, eh?" I smirked as I brushed out my dress a bit.

            "You were far less trouble . . . asleep in my arms," he looked about, "I suppose I should make my exit?" he began towards the door.

            "Wait?" I asked, "Will you do me one favor?"

            "I think the impropriety is yours now . . . asking me a favor while in your bedroom?" his voice teasing.

            "Come now," I chided, "It is my birthday, all I ask is that you stand by me in front of that mirror," I said gesturing towards the ornate mirror that stood beside the wardrobe.

            "Is that all?" he looked me over trying to get a good read of my intentions, "Well I suppose I can do that," he offered his arm most kindly and escorted me to the mirror. "You just want me to stand here, beside you?"

            "Yes," I smiled as I looked at our reflections. We made a handsome pair, especially dressed in our finery. I fussed over my gown a bit and then straightened up to take his arm, "What?" I smiled, "What are you smiling at?"

            "You," he nodded at my reflection, "you act as if we're about to sit for a family portrait." This time I felt the blush go straight to my ears and I turned quickly. "Margaret? Did I say something wrong?"

            "No," I said quietly, "Thank you for doing as I asked . . . "

            "It was no trouble," he stopped at my desk as he moved towards the door. "If you would do me one favor, and wear this tomorrow," he said setting a small box on top of my journal which I thanked the Lord that I had closed.

            "What is that?" I asked as he reached the doorway.

            "What else would it be," he smirked, "it is your birthday gift." He stepped out into the hallway and I heard him speak lowly, I could only imagine that it was Freddie and Clara. "She is awake so I came out here." I quickly moved the box to my nightstand, if I was going to keep stashing things in there, I would have to make some room.