Dearest Mother,

It has been three days since the passing of my Lord and Lady Blackwell. The staff, including yours truly, are in shambles. We are all mourning their loss. The funeral was on a bright and sunny day. Too bright and cherry for such an occasion, in my opinion.

You must forgive me for not writing for these past few weeks. The sickness of my Lord and Lady had kept me quite busy. I got little sleep; My masters got even less. The estate was a chaotic, damp hell. Nothing was in its place. Even my own personal mail was lost in the haze, and I received a rather important looking letter from the city! I hope that despite the unfortunate climate, they passed in peace.

The poor things were too prideful to ask for help with much-needed tasks. I fear this made their last days quite uncomfortable. The doctor still doesn't know what caused their malaise. The good news is that no one else, not even their dear daughter, has contracted the disease.

Ah, yes, I'm sure you're confused. Yes, the Blackwell's did have a daughter. She, a fair child by the name of Angelica, has acted completely aloof. It took me two weeks to figure out that she even existed when I began working for the Blackwells. At that time, she was only two and stuck to her room. Now the child is six. I can't imagine what the passing of her parents has done to her, the sweet thing. And no, I am not overly familiar with her. I stuck mostly to my duties and she stuck mostly to her parents, even when they were on their death beds. I only ever saw her in the distance or in passing. She eats her meals alone.

There is a silver lining to all of this. While the estate is to be divided among the relatives, I have been entrusted with the care of Angelica for the time being. This, I hope, will give me time to form a deeper bond with the girl. She is to remain in the house with yours truly acting as her butler and guardian. Anna, my dearest friend, is to continue her governess position. Anna and I will do our best to care for her until the banker determines which relative gets the property. It is my truest hope that we can offer some healing.

See, the will has yet to be read, and already it is being contested. Family members, young and old, the familiar and the stranger, are pouring into our estate. I am thankful that all those years of cleaning empty rooms has borne fruit! However, I am not sure the relatives have the best interests in mind for poor Angelica.

One blond, a distant uncle of Angelica, has caught my eye...I am sure you know what I mean when I say such things, and I am sorry for the shame it causes you. Be assured that, regardless of my sins, I will soon take a wife and she shall bear you grandchildren. In the meantime, please consider Angelica your grandchild, and tell me what you think of the letter attached.

It's a list of rules I received from the banker after being informed I would be Angelica's temporary guardian. I must admit, it is quite perplexing. For one, my Lord and Lady refer to themselves as Black instead of Blackwell. For another, these rules are utterly ridiculous. Angelica may be a strange child, but she need not be locked in her room every night. And how could she leave if not by door or window? I think it may all be a jest. Even in sickness, Lady Blackwell had quite a sense of humor. I suppose, at least for now, I will follow the rules laid out for me. Perhaps Angelica is a sleepwalker.

Regardless, please, tell me what you think I should do. How best should I care for Angelica? I wish to only do good by her and her family name.

Your son,

Percy Kenneth Brookwood.