Period of Pretties, Petticoats and Power

Eleven - My Little Nephews

Eleven — My Little Nephews.

Due to the French accents, some words are purposely misspelt. Also, my French is found by google translate, so please do not have a go at me because of it. I do not speak French, while Alys and her nephews do. 

I disliked the docks, but that may just because there was people every where. And it was dirty and smelt. Like the Thames, and I disliked the Thames. Beside me, Eli stood looking exceptionally mad. He had to come with me, since me leaving the house and going to a crowded place—especially the docks—alone was a horrible and stupid idea. I could see he was annoyed and it annoyed me he was annoyed.

Lily was also here, as well as some of Eli’s men and Malissa. He may as well brought half of the damn manor with him. My answer for this was he simply did not leave the place enough and when he did, he had to bring it with him or he would get homesick. I did home Eli got homesick easily, for then I would not have to go to so many balls and my life would be complete and perfect. 

“Miss Alys,” said Lily and glanced at Eli nervously like she was scared she was being too friendly to me and not very professional enough. He didn’t seem to care so she turned back to me. “The ship has arrived. Your nephews shall be here soon.”
This made me smile. I had been preparing all week for their presents, by setting up rooms and making sure there was plenty for them to do. I adored my Nephews, but they could get bored pretty easily. Sadly, Aspasie had to stay home at the manor, since having a pet tiger out in public might cause attraction. Yeah, just like half of the manor staff that Eli bought with him. He should of just brought a sign that said, ‘I AM RICH AND ELI PRINCIPLE.’ It would of been less conspicuous.

Now, I was being a little dramatic, but I missed Aspasie.

We saw people going to their families and embracing their loved ones. I felt my feet fidget and cooled myself down. There was simply no point in being stressed. My old Nanny, and the boys Nanny, Marie, would look after them over the trip. Jeromie said she was staying with her family in London for the stay and would check up on the boys time to time, which offended me. But, I understood his point. I could sometimes be the fun Aunt a little too much…

Like the fact I had a pet tiger.

I did not tell Jeromie that, though.

Suddenly, I heard someone holler, “MA TANTE! Tante A-lys!”

I felt so happy when I heard my language being hollered in a London port, and reminded myself quickly to feed them more sweets when we got home. I first saw Nathanael, who was the oldest of my nephews. He was turning five, a little bit younger than Isabelle and Vivienne, and was running up to me and throwing himself into my arms like he was trying to fly over me. I caught him easily—though he was a force—and held him close to me, and kissed his curly dark hair and grinned at his chubby cheeks.

“Oh, mon Nathanaël, vous avez tellement augmenté beaucoup. Vous avez manqué votre chère tante?” Oh, my, Nathanael, you have grown so very much. Have you missed your dear aunt?

I loved the feel of French on my tongue, and felt a lot more comfortable with my accent which I tried to hide so very well with an English one I had made over the years. My nephew beamed at me with big large green eyes, and kissed my cheeks in fondness and told me he had in fact missed his dear aunt very much and that he had run ahead of Marie.

This made me scold him fondly and search for Marie.

I felt everyone’s eyes on me and my nephew. They had never heard me speak my first language, I thought and they probably thought it was a little strange. Most ladies were taught to speak French, as most French ladies were taught English, but it always felt better speaking in your first tongue. I hoped my nephews would not speak English to me the entire trip, so I could just speak my language.
“Oh, Alys!” Cried a familiar voice and I smiled when I saw Marie bustled towards me with a small child on her hip, who was asleep and tucked under a blanket. She had aged, with greying hair and worn eyes, but she still looked so alive and made me suddenly crave my French home with my French ways, not this horrid London of a hole. She embraced me with one hand and kissed my cheeks. “You have grown so very much,” she says in French, “you are a young lady, no?”