The Hall family is no exception.
Housekeeper Philip Demba and nanny Denise Stevens were responsible for raising the four Hall children. While each child had their own governess, the boys gravitated towards Philip, while the girls were cared for by Denise.
There was a distinct difference in these relationships.
As a butler, Philip held a position of prestige, adhering strictly to noble etiquette. As George Hall's trusted right hand, he managed all affairs of the estate. In true hereditary families, the role of butler is often passed down through generations, making it a prestigious and exclusive position. Consequently, Philip maintained a professional yet close relationship with the boys—one that resembled that of a mentor rather than a father.
Denise, as a nanny, had a different role. Many aristocratic families employed professionally trained nannies who underwent rigorous education before being hired. Unlike butlers, nannies rarely followed a hereditary system.
Denise, therefore, had fewer formal constraints and poured all her maternal love into the children, forming an especially deep bond with them.
Now over eighty, Denise had once cared for Elizabeth Hall as a child. She later moved into the Hall household and raised both Elf and Edith. Having lost her own children—her daughter in a tragic accident and her son to illness—Denise found solace in caring for Edith, who was born shortly after her son's passing.
Of all the Hall children, Edith was the closest to Denise.
The title "nanny" is typically used by young children in aristocratic families. As they grow older, they address their nannies by name. However, Edith continued to call Denise "nanny," a small but significant detail that reflected their deep bond.
A few years ago, before Edith and Renly reached adulthood, Denise retired due to health reasons and moved to the countryside. This Christmas, she specifically invited Edith to visit, even suggesting a return to the Hall estate—an indication that Elizabeth's influence was at play.
Denise truly loved Edith, just as she had loved Elizabeth. But if Elizabeth had convinced Denise that Edith was working in dangerous places, like war zones, it was likely an attempt to manipulate Edith into staying away from such risks.
This was the cruelty of the adult world—lies, wrapped in concern, used as tools of control.
When Edith mentioned "nanny," Renly immediately sensed trouble. His first instinct was to exclaim, "Jesus Christ," knowing that anything related to Denise would shake Edith's resolve. Even if she saw the trap, she would walk into it willingly.
And Elizabeth knew it too.
As for "Charlie," their long-time family doctor, his presence confirmed that the matter involved serious discussions.
Edith, who had returned to London for Denise, soon realized the true purpose behind the invitation. But she couldn't blame Denise. The elderly woman's health had indeed declined, and Edith couldn't bring herself to leave her alone.
Before she knew it, a month had passed.
Renly didn't need the details to imagine the suffocating atmosphere of that house—where Edith was free to leave at any time, yet bound by invisible strings.
Elizabeth held the kite string, ensuring that Edith never truly flew away.
Renly thought back to the time when he and Edith had been lured into a similar compromise. The ultimate goal was always the same—to force their children onto the path their parents desired.
"Where's Elf?" Renly asked, seizing on a key detail. If Elf and Elizabeth were both in the house, the stifling atmosphere must have been unbearable.
Edith looked surprised. "That's the strange part—Elf didn't come back. She only stayed for one night on Christmas. Arthur, too. It's really odd."
In past situations, Elf had always played a role, neither avoiding nor confronting issues directly. She had a way of handling family matters better than George or Elizabeth. Yet this time, she had disappeared entirely.
Something had happened.
Elf had always kept a certain distance from Renly and Edith, maintaining only the superficial bonds expected in aristocratic families. So even if something was going on, Renly wouldn't know—and didn't particularly care to find out.
"So, how is Denise's health?" Renly shifted the topic.
Edith relaxed slightly. "It's the usual. Her heart isn't great, but she has a sweet tooth, which makes things difficult. And now her knees are giving her trouble. The London dampness is making it worse. She needs care, but she refuses to hire a nurse. God, why is she so stubborn?"
Renly chuckled.
Denise's stubbornness was something she shared with Edith. In many ways, they resembled a true mother and daughter, more so than Edith and Elizabeth.
Just then, Matthew approached. He and Renly exchanged a glance, amusement flickering between them. Edith, in this moment of exasperation, was undeniably endearing.
Matthew took the plate from Renly's hand, raising an eyebrow. "Coffee?"
"Whiskey," Renly replied, nodding toward Edith—signaling that she needed a drink, and he intended to join her.
Matthew understood instantly and walked away.
"So, how did you finally leave?" Renly asked, knowing that Edith would never have abandoned Denise unless arrangements were in place.
Edith took a sip of her whiskey, ruffling her hair. "Denise agreed to stay in a nursing home for three months. It'll give doctors time to monitor her condition and help her adjust. If she still hates it, she can return home with a nurse I hired."
Renly raised an eyebrow. "You convinced her?" Denise was known for being headstrong.
Edith blinked, not understanding.
"Elizabeth convinced Denise to call you back. But you convinced Denise to stay in the nursing home," Renly explained.
It was evident that Edith's mind was still sluggish from her month-long stay in the suffocating house. The fact that she hadn't been mentally drained was impressive in itself.
Then, another thought crossed Renly's mind—had she changed her date?
"Wait—are we still talking about my work?" Edith asked, then waved dismissively. "Denise knows I have a career. She gave me advice but didn't push too hard. The real issue is that they're suddenly concerned about who I'm dating."
Silence fell.
Renly and Matthew exchanged glances but said nothing. The quiet only emphasized the absurdity of the situation.
Edith threw up her hands in surrender. "I know. It's not about my job at all. It's about my date. I don't get it. What's their problem with Chris? They're so worked up, they even roped in my nanny."
"Isn't he a problem in every possible way?" Matthew remarked coolly.
Renly took another sip of whiskey.
This was just the beginning.