December 25th, 1894 — Dempsey Estate, Galway

Eamon Dempsey left the sitting room half an hour after the rest of his family left. The drama of today's morn had been quite spectacular, and Eamon made it a habit not to let himself be rushed by the chaotic inclinations of his dear children. So, after Don Juan fled from the breakfast table and everyone else went to their respective spaces and rooms, Eamon sat at the table and finished eating his scones at a leisurely pace. All the while, he was thinking. His forehead was set into a light frown.

Finally, he got up, exchanged a few words with the servants, and wandered upstairs towards the master bedroom. He needed to talk some sense into his son, but there was someone else who required his attention first.

"Darling, are you alright? Where are you?"

Eamon looked around for his wife. She had been upset. She might still be upset.

---

Lowri Dempsey

  

This had not been the Christmas that Lowri Dempsey had in mind. A bastard child. A grandchild revealed to them in the most untoward fashion! And Don Juan hadn’t wanted to deal with the child at all; of course, he hadn’t thought that Lowri would welcome the child into the family with open arms. Obviously the family was quite unorthodox, so was it such a stretch of imagination that they wouldn’t bat an eye that the girl’s mother and DJ were estranged? Honestly, she was impressed more children hadn’t popped up out of the ether. She was pacing back and forth in their adjoining sitting room when her husband found her.

“I’m here, my love,” She breathed out, exasperated as she paced. She resisted the urge to snap Do I look like I’m alright? at her husband, because he didn’t deserve her ire (this time at least).

---

  

---

Eamon followed her voice into the sitting room and watched her pace its length two times before he went up to her and stopped her to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "And if you run the length of this parlor another ten times, you won't catch up to our dear son and preempt his attacks on our peace," he said and led her by the arm to the chairs by the fireplace. Eamon sat down next to her.

He smiled, but not too brightly. He did not want Lowri to get the idea that he was not taking this seriously; at times she could be cross with him for being difficult to perturb. His wife was easy to distress, but her sensitivity to the fate of the unexpected girl endeared her to Eamon, who was inclined to view such matters pragmatically.
"This boy of ours never runs out of surprises, does he? Fool that he is."
He took her hand. "The matter of the child is something we ought to talk about before making any hasty decision."

---

  

Were it anyone else coming to invade her space, she might have swatted them with her fan. As it stood, she needed it to waft herself to keep from keeling over. Plus the moment her husband held her hands, she felt a calm wash over her - or rather, at least as much calm as she could manage. She still felt the urge to go on a rampage through the entire bloody house. “I told you, I told you naming him Don Juan would forever haunt us, Eamon!” She cried. Oh alright, she swatted him with her fan as he led her to the fireplace and sat her down in a chair. At least if she keeled over she wouldn’t fall and hit her head. (Though if she did, perhaps her IQ might descend to the collective average of her children.)

“The matter of the child, what ever do you mean Eamon?” She asked, willingly gripping his hand as she snapped open her fan and fluttered herself with her other. “Of course we must try to bring her here, there’s no question of it.”

---

The following 1 user Likes Lowri Dempsey's post:1 user Likes Lowri Dempsey's post
   Eamon Dempsey

---

"This child will not be plucked from the street, dear," Eamon reminded his wife, waving away the fan with an unperturbed smile. "I am saying it all might be more difficult than opening our arms to the girl; it is a testament to your heart and kindness, of course."
He sat down on the footstool next to her chair and took her hand to caress it between his. "—but, be prepared for scrutiny. Scandal, even. And a girl that does not yet understand us to be their home." He looked up to Lowri, feeling that he knew what she was going to say. He would see it through for her, of course. He had his doubts, but when it came to providing what she desired, he was ever willing to cast them aside.

---

The following 1 user Likes Eamon Dempsey's post:1 user Likes Eamon Dempsey's post
   Lowri Dempsey

Lowri could only…blink at her husband.

Of course. Of course he was right. The child already had a home. A family that she likely thought of as her own. Would she want to be accepted in their family, or would she feel as if they were to be strangers, merely passing ships in the night? Oh, the thought devastated her more than she could bear it. Were she with her children, she might have kept her face smooth and placid, unperturbed. But as it stood, she was with the love of her life. His presence alone saw the tears gathering in her eyes finally fall and she couldn’t help but draw her hand up to her mouth.

She was near collapsing into his full embrace when the thought hit her suddenly and she nearly shot back up out of the chair. “Oh! But - but her letters!” She summoned them with a wave of her wand. “Her letters Eamon.” She flapped the pages at him, physically emphasizing their presence; as if it would be enough to convince a jury. “Why would she write to me like this if she wasn’t interested in being with us? And earlier! Oh you know how I told you about that anonymous poet who wrote to me? It was she who did so under a pseudonym!”

---

Christmas Letter & Anonymous Poet Letters

The following 1 user Likes Lowri Dempsey's post:1 user Likes Lowri Dempsey's post
   Eamon Dempsey

---