Aubrey paused at the door of the library, in the midst of doing the fireplace rounds, in sudden trepidation.

He could hear a child's giggling. Given the house had only two children, he didn't much need to think to guess at who it was - only he listened a moment longer anyway, hoping and praying that the boy had his nanny with him in there. He sounded in a good mood, at least, Aubrey considered, although the optimism of that wore off the moment he pictured the toddler gleefully ripping a wealth of books off their shelves and pages happily from their spines. (It was far too much to hope that he was only looking quietly at the pages of a picture book, as myth had it that well-behaved children enjoyed doing.)

Best check, then. Besides, the library fire would need stoking the same as any, so he had no excuse to not. Pushing the door open, he plastered a smile to his face and made to cross the room with the basket of coal to the fireplace. Naturally, he didn't get very far, and instead bundled the basket down hastily against the wall to turn to the young boy with a frown. "Oh, no, Master Urquart," he chided, watching Master Urquart mess up the maid's morning work upon the couches with great gusto. The boy may not care about mess, but he certainly hadn't been taught to jump on the couches, so Aubrey didn't mind saying so straight. "You mustn't jump on the furniture."

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