Color filled her cheeks again at the misunderstanding. "Mrs..." she corrected almost in a strangled way, returning the infant to the basket when she was once again, sleeping. "I am a widow. A recent widow." She explained this tightly, not that the tightness was directed at him. "Me husband died before our children were born and I... had a moment of weakness." Well, more like a few months of craving human touch. "He died for another woman," she explained, "She was me best friend, and she was sick. He died taking care of her and the only person I had left was me brother, and now I don't have him either because I was stupid and fancied the clockmaker." Because she had been so damned alone.

Tears spilled over and she angrily shrugged at them. "Fred did nothin' wrong but fall fer me." Considering she wasn't even over Harold yet and wouldn't be for some time. "I don't know what I am going ta do. I have me home but I think I may have caused a stir and people are going ta talk. The shame of it all! I'll bet I am the trollup they are already speaking of." She gave a humorless laugh at the thing.