A/N: I have taken the time to take all of your reviews into consideration and completely add to and revise this story. Thank you Esmora and Du Weldenvarden for urging me to make it longer. Thank you Elessar-Lover, I did make a mistake by saying that the Professor was their Uncle. Thank you Pink-Aphid for pointing out that Kirke could not have a brother, although I am keeping his estate the same, even if it is unrealistic. I do not own anything from Lewis' original and inspiring novels.

Time Setting: Right before the Voyage of the Dawn Tredder. Miraz is no longer in power. Lucy and Edmund are staying with their cousin Eustace. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie are in America with Susan. Peter (now 19) is studying at Professor Kirke's house. The year is 1946; right after World War II is over.

Chapter One: Rose

Rose Bennet knocked timidly on the door of the expansive Kirke residence. An older woman with a stern thin face and a knot of silver hair appeared. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm Rose Bennet, Mr. Taylor's nurse." Rose addressed herself. She felt the woman's eyes criticize her for a long awkward moment.

"But you can't be more than 17." The woman sounded as though she herself were in charge of kicking the nurse out if she didn't approve.

"I worked on the front with the Red Cross for over a year. I assure you, I'm well qualified." Rose informed her, though she was a little miffed.

The woman sniffed at her and turned on her heel. "Follow me. My name is Mrs. Macready. I am housekeeper here." Rose was led up a flight of stairs to a small drab room with a cot, dresser and chair.

"This will be your room. You may leave your bags here." Rose dropped her bags and followed again.

In another room, a man lay in bed with a bandaged head. He was wrapped in blankets and shaking with fever.

"This is Mr. Taylor. He is Professor Kirke's closest cousin. Professor Kirke is tutoring his nephew for exams, so please do not disturb either of them." Mrs. Macready snapped shortly.

Rose nodded, eager to be free from the housekeeper's presence. It was obvious that the woman would not be the most enjoyable company while she worked here.

"I'll leave you to your job then." Mrs. Macready said and left.

Rose found that Mr. Taylor had been shot in the leg, and gangrene was setting in. She worked for the rest of the day caring for the gangrene and working to bring the man's fever down. It had quickly grown stuffy in there and Rose was glad to have a blast of new air when she came back out.

It took awhile to find her way back to her own bedroom, and when she found it, she collapsed on the bed, ready for sleep to take over.

The next morning Rose had the nasty job of putting new bandages on Mr. Taylor's leg. Where she had cut out the gangrene the day before was now an oozing combination of blood and a yellowish liquid that had crusted over onto the bandage. She had to soak the bandage off, apply new ointment and re-wrap the leg.

When she was done with that job, Rose noticed a book laying on the side of his nightstand.

"Would you like for me to read to you for awhile?" She asked gently, knowing that laying weak could drive one utterly bored.

"Would you? I haven't had the strength to sit up and read it myself."

Rose was glad to offer something to keep his mind off of the pain and boredom.

Once Mr. Taylor had fallen back asleep Rose took the time to wander a bit. Unfortunately most of the rooms she found were empty, or only had sheet-covered furniture. It looked as if no one had used most of the rooms for years. She did however find a library and made a mental note to ask for permission to use it.

After that she went back to her room and set up an easel by the window. Painting was Rose's obsession, something she could wrap herself in, like a warm blanket that no one could take off of her as long as she was underneath it. It could take her make her forget problems and frustrations, and relieve stress. She had painted even on the battlefield as the war ended.

As she sat there, she thought back to what had happened about a year ago. First, her mother had died in a bombing in London. She found out later that both her brother, who was working as a doctor on the field and her father who was an English soldier, had died in battle. At 16, Rose had volunteered as a nurse. Even though she couldn't stand the sight of blood, or the screaming or pain that the soldiers went through, she swallowed her fears and was full of compassion for the wounded.

She had painted several pictures and sold them to more well-to-do people who could still afford art. It had brought in enough money to make it by.

Now Professor Kirke had hired her to care for his cousin. It might end up getting lonely, but at least she had a place to stay for now.

Rose took advantage of the beautiful scene of the yard out her window and painted for hours. When she was done she sat the painting atop the dresser.

Mrs. Macready gave her dinner in the kitchen, and then Rose went back upstairs to check on Mr. Taylor.

On the third day, Rose walked around the house to stretch her legs. On the fourth floor she found herself quite taken with a window on the third floor that looked down upon the gardens. They were so beautiful with the fall flowers blooming in rusts and golds. She must have been absorbed in the view, because she hadn't noticed at all that someone had come to stand behind her until he spoke, and she jumped.

"Enjoying the view?" the deep voiced asked, then chuckled at her startledness.

Rose turned to see a tall man with wiry gray hair. "Yes sir. You have beautiful gardens…That is, assuming that you're Professor Kirke."

The man laughed again. "Indeed. And you are Miss Rose Bennet. Thank you for coming to attend to William." Rose nodded in reply. "What have you been doing to keep yourself occupied?" He asked.

"I enjoy painting, sir. But I did notice that you have a library and I was wondering if I might-"

"Of course. You are welcome to my book collection. I am glad to know that you're a reader. Now I'm sorry to say that I must be getting back to my study. I'm helping my nephew to prepare for some tests. It was a pleasure to meet you." And with that, professor Kirke left.

Over the next few days Rose found several books that interested her, and enjoyed reading to Mr. Taylor, whose wounds were beginning to show good progress.

Rose entered the library to find a new book. She had just finished reading Utopia. She ran her fingers across the volumes, scanning the titles.

She did not notice a young man sitting in one of the over stuffed chairs in the corner. He had been reading before she came in. Now he watched her. She was about the age of his little sister, Susan. She was average height and had golden brown hair. She moved mostly on her tip-toes when she walked and her body was petite and graceful. When she turned toward him and noticed him, he saw that her face was pretty too. Her cheeks and lips were pink and her eyes were bright and lively. He stood and introduced himself.

"Hello. I'm sorry I didn't make myself known before. My name is Peter Pevensie; I'm the professor's nephew."

Rose studied Peter's tall frame. His blonde hair was swept across his forehead in an intriguing manner and his face was adorable, he even had small dimples when he smiled. Yes, he was very handsome. She blushed.

"I'm Rose Bennet; I'm a nurse here taking care of Mr. Taylor."

(Please Review and tell me how you like the changes.)