So this story was a bit of an experiment, I have to admit, mostly because I was combining two different elements: historical AU (Edwardian manor house setting) and outsider POV (from the perspective of Emma’s youngest son, Alfred). Because it’s written from a child’s point of view, it wouldn’t immediately be clear that the reason he and his brother and his (recently widowed) mother are being forced to sell the house (and most of the estate) and live in a small cottage on the edge of the property, only that there’s a strange, dark-bearded man now living in their old home. (On the other hand, the strange man did bring his two sons with him, boys just slightly older than Edward and Alfred, and they all quickly become good friends, daring each other to footraces all over the grounds and playing at knights in the wooded parkland.) Nor would Alfred be entirely aware of the fact that while the four of them are up to all sorts of adventures — swimming in the old pond or pocketing warm currant buns from under the eye of the manor house cook — his mother is quietly being won over (and courted) by the wealthy, powerful man she had previously disdained. There were a few scenes that got scrapped, including one where Alfred overhears two footmen talking about the new owner (and how much interest he seems to be taking in the old missus) and one where Harold (the younger of Alfred’s two new friends) teaches Alfred and his brother how to whistle with a blade of grass. The whole story was, of course, meant to be rather lighthearted and sweet, a bit of a coming of age tale (as you said) with the making of friendships that turn into brotherhoods once it’s revealed that their parents are soon to be married and Alfred and Edward will be moving back into the house. (That being said, the opening lines are a bit bleak, or at least bleaker than the rest of the story: “At the beginning of summer, Mama told them that they needed to pack their things, that they would be leaving home and not returning. Alfred didn’t understand, and then Edward began to cry. Alfred only looked at Mama, who wasn’t crying. She never did, not even after Papa died.”)
