21st November, 1894 — Whitby & Co. Printshop

Yesterday had been long and emotionally draining, and Tess had tossed and turned even after everything had been decided. Sage would have it ten times worse than the rest of them, of course, so she couldn’t complain – but it was distinctly odd, waking up to a house that now suddenly contained a young child. Adorable, but unsettled by the upheaval to her existence, not to mention a haunting reminder of Sage’s past dalliance. (Their parents would have supported her through this too, Tess was sure, but still, she was a little relieved they were not here to deal with it.)

Declan had been there, though – Tess had not been able to discern what he thought about anything the day before, and most of today they had been catching up on printing a large order whose deadline was in. Prescott had taken the stacks down to Sam to be duly distributed, but while they were left to reset the presses and tidy up the mess of paper in the printroom, Tess glanced at him. Once, and then a couple times more before before she screwed up the courage. On the fourth glance sidelong, she commented, “You’ve been quiet.” And no wonder, really. Tess sighed. “Sorry about yesterday. I know it was –” she waved a hand, wordlessly. A lot.

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Declan Buchanan

  

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Declan was still thinking about yesterday, even as he set about dutifully resetting the presses for the next job. He felt as if he was a bit behind on some of his lettering work, because of yesterday — but he knew that Tess wouldn't hold it against him when he spent time catching up. Fabian and Sam might, though — so he was going to have to get to it sooner rather than later. And he was worried about thinking about the lettering. Mostly he was thinking about Sage, and about Maggie, and about all the things he didn't know.

He started at Tess' apology. Declan steadied himself, and bent down to the pile of discard papers. He glanced over at her. "It's alright," he replied, because he was not sure what else to say — because he did not have a right to feel upset about any of this.

  

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set by Bee

Declan was always quiet, and often lost in his head while they worked, but – this quiet felt different. Weightier, maybe. She was a little worried: they had depended on Declan through everything, and perhaps taken him for granted as well, solid and unshakeable. (But now, given the fresh tension in the house, Tess simply couldn’t afford for the stress to seep into the printshop too.)

Maybe Maggie’s arrival had shaken him, after all. “You sure?” She would rather he air his objections or qualms to her directly than have to infer any unsaid upset or resentment. He had been with Sage in the printshop before the talk in the kitchen, she’d gleaned. And it was a lot to process for anyone – Tess had been shocked enough, and she had known that Sage’s daughter existed. “I take it – Sage never told you, before?” Tess queried. Declan had never brought it up in conversation, and it was supposed to have been an old, buried secret, so she thought not – back at the time she had resolved that the fewer people who knew, the better. Still... she was almost impressed that Sage had actually managed to keep it from him, too.

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He wasn't alright, but it didn't feel fair that he wasn't. Maggie's appearance wasn't about him. He shouldn't feel hurt by it, and he should keep his qualms about the path forward to himself — but he was still left feeling unsettled by them, and Tess knew him well enough to know that his quiet was different.

He shrugged his shoulders at her. "She didn't," he said, keeping it simple.

  

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set by Bee