Chapter Ten
“They actually named their son Quill Seshat Ravenglass?” Jansen stared at Joy with an expression she couldn’t quite fathom. He was either bewildered, amused, or both.
“It’s because of her writing. Tutie takes it very seriously. Have you read any of her books?” Joy very much doubted that he had. He didn’t strike her as a man inclined to read romantic stories—even if he was the most romantic man she had ever met.
“I cannot say that I have.”
“I rather doubted you were familiar with them.” She glanced out the carriage window and almost groaned at the blustery day.
It was raining buckets, and the sky was as dark as a blanket of gray flannel.
She truly hoped that wasn’t an omen as to how this visit would go.
One never knew quite what one might find in the Ravenglass household, what with all the cats, Ignatius the pug, and little Quill, whom Fortuity kept at her side when she wasn’t writing.
The Ravenglass nanny had an extraordinarily easy position, since Fortuity doted on her son.
“I wonder if we should have chosen another day?”
“It is England, my angel. It rains. Incessantly.”
“I know, but we’ve been blessed with so many sunny days.
Is it greedy of me to wish for another?” Joy shifted in the seat and nearly cringed when her reticule crackled with the latest note from the blackmailer.
She hadn’t shown it to Jansen yet, but was determined to do so before the day was out.
Visit Tutie first, then show him the note later. A solid plan. She hoped.
“We’re nearly there,” she said as they turned onto Chesterfield Street.
“Ravenglass Townhouse is just up ahead.” She noticed he didn’t seem nervous at all.
If she were meeting members of his extended family under such inauspicious circumstances, she would be unraveling at her seams. “You are so sure of yourself. Not nervous a bit?”
“Is your sister beastly?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why should I be ill at ease? I am meeting future members of my family.” He took her hand. “And I am enjoying yet another rare bit of time in your presence without a chaperone. Is your sister unwell? She is normally much more strict.”
“Seri has been a bit lax of late. Perhaps she is trying to entrap you in case you change your mind.”
“I would never.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her gloved hand. “You are my angel. I cannot imagine life without you.”
“Teetering pedestals, sir,” Joy reminded him. While she thoroughly enjoyed being adored, Jansen needed to understand she was far from perfect. “You hold me up so high, the heights are dizzying at times.”
“I will always be here to catch you, my angel.”
The carriage rolled to a stop. Copper opened the door and placed the steps while holding an umbrella ready. He held out a hand to help her. “Careful does it, my lady. I tried to choose the spot with the shallowest puddles.”
“Thank you, Copper. I am sure you did.”
He escorted her up the front steps of the townhouse, ensuring the umbrella shielded her from the rain while Jansen followed behind them. The Ravenglass butler, Thebson, opened the door before they fully reached it.
“Good afternoon, Lady Joy.” The servant held the door open wide, waving them inside.
“And you, good sir,” he said to Copper, “will find a place out of the weather. Round back in the mews. Once you have seen to your horses, come in the servants’ entrance for some hot tea.
Lady Fortuity always insists on that practice when the weather is foul. ”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Copper said with a bob of his head. “And please thank the lady of the house as well.”
Thebson nodded, then closed the door and set to taking Joy and Jansen’s wet things. “Dreadful weather, is it not, Lady Joy?”
“It is at that, Thebson, after all that wonderful sunshine. And do let me introduce you to Sir Jansen Winterstone.”
The butler bowed, then accepted Jansen’s hat, coat, and gloves. “Welcome to Ravenglass Townhouse, Sir Jansen.”
“Thank you, Thebson,” Jansen said. “I am very pleased to be here.”
“Lady Fortuity and Master Quill, along with several more cats than were here the last time you visited, await you in the parlor, my lady. Do follow me.” The butler turned on his heel and led the way.
Joy did her best not to laugh. Thebson hated the cats as much as Blessing’s butler did. Joy often wondered if the men ever got together to bemoan their fate of serving households filled with felines.
“Joy!” Fortuity rose from the floor where she had been on the rug with Quill and his toy soldiers. “Look, Quill! Auntie Joy has come to visit.”
“Doy! Doy!” Quill crowed, clapping his hands as he toddled over to Joy at something akin to a run.
“There is my little man!” Joy scooped him up and hugged him. “I have a friend for you to meet.” She turned and nodded at Jansen. “This is Sir Jansen Winterstone. Can you say hello and make him feel welcome?”
Frowning, the child eyed Jansen for a long moment before finally uttering, “’Lo.”
Jansen bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Quill.”
Beaming with pride, Fortuity rushed over and took the cherub from Joy. “He seems to be going through a time where he doesn’t trust as readily as he once did,” she told Jansen. “Nanny says it is quite normal, though.”
“I am sure it is,” Jansen said with a polite bow.
“Jansen, this is my older sister, Fortuity,” Joy said, grinning because she knew Fortuity hated being referred to as such. “Tutie, Sir Jansen Winterstone—uhm—my intended.”
Fortuity’s eyes went wide. “Intended?” She held up a finger.
“A moment, if you please.” She hurried to the parlor doorway.
“Nanny!” An older woman appeared almost immediately and took charge of young Quill after Fortuity gave him the required kisses on his chubby little cheeks and waved at him. “Bye–bye. Time to play with Nanny.”
Quill clapped his pudgy little hands and gurgled at his smiling nursemaid.
Once they departed, Fortuity yanked on the bellpull.
“This calls for a toast. I had heard rumors, but Seri refused to confirm anything. She said I had to speak with you.” She waved at the pair of settees on either side of the rug covered in toys and cats of various sizes.
“Please, have a seat. Just be careful where you step. Cats and toys. The cats will move. Sometimes. But the toys will trip you. At a little over a year of age, I fear my son has yet to conquer the art of tidiness.”
Joy pointed at the cats. “That one is Horatio…I think. That one is Jervis. And the very large one is Wellington. Where are Rumbles and Ignatius?” she asked Fortuity.
“Both are in the mews, currently under the watchful eye of Mr. Turnmaster. Rumbles refuses to leave the side of a lady feline that showed up three days ago, and Ignatius rolled in a fresh pile of horse manure. He is not permitted back in the house until the groom has bathed him.”
Jansen snorted as he seated himself, making Joy smile.
“Jansen has a cat named Nimbus who steals anything he can carry.” Joy sat beside Jansen and shook her wrist to make her bracelet rattle. Fortuity was much like a crow. If she spotted anything shiny or heard metal rattle, she always perked with interest.
“And what have we here?” she asked after instructing a maid to bring tea.
She gracefully sidestepped toys and cats, then caught hold of Joy’s hand.
“Oh my goodness. How lovely.” She playfully shook Joy’s hand to make it rattle again.
“The wedding date? And why have none of the banns been read? Are we to have a special license, then?”
“She refuses to set a date until I receive the approval of every Abarough sister,” Jansen said.
“I see. And whom do you lack now?”
He made a face as if struggling to remember. “Lady Blessing and Lady Grace.”
Fortuity beamed. “Well, at least I wasn’t last.” She plopped down on the settee across from them, and two unknown cats jumped over the back of the sofa and joined her. Both purred loudly. “Ahh…yes. Meet Sweetie and Pet.”
“Sweetie and Pet?” Joy eyed the pair of black-and-white cats that were almost identical. “Where did they come from?”
Fortuity sadly shook her head. “I have no idea. They just showed up. We fed them, and they took up residence.”
“You can hardly blame them,” Joy said.
“Now.” Fortuity narrowed her eyes, settling her gaze on her sister. “A date?”
“We already told you—he has yet to meet Essie and Gracie. Once he meets them, we’ll set a date.”
“You honestly expect me to believe that if one of us doesn’t like him, you will send him away?”
“You sound like Seri, and do stop talking about him as if he is not sitting right here.”
“Thank you,” Jansen said with a grin before turning to face Joy. “But I would like to hear that answer as well. Would you send me away, my angel, if one of your sisters does not like me?”
“Of course not,” she said quietly. “I would merely”—she cleared her throat—“have a robust conversation with that particular sister.”
Fortuity laughed so loudly she startled the cats, making them hiss. “Oh my. Forgive me, pets. I am sorry. It’s just I have never seen Joy like this before.”
“Like what?” Joy said, bracing herself for what her sister might say next.
Fortuity looked at Joy, then at Jansen. Her smile widened exponentially.
“Happy with something other than a deck of playing cards.” She nodded at Joy’s wrist. “But I see by those amulets that he fully understands you, and I am glad.” She rose and gave a dramatic bow, then curtsied.
“I hereby bestow upon you my full blessing and hopes for an eternity of happiness.”
A door thudded somewhere deeper in the home, and happy barking and the clicking of toenails on the marble floors echoed down the hallway.
“Oh dear,” Fortuity said. “Brace yourselves. It appears Ignatius has had his bath.”