Chapter 25 #2
Mina was suddenly grateful that Christopher and Tom hadn’t yet had any disagreements that had descended into a bout of fisticuffs. She was just about to intervene when Emmeline appeared on the landing in a swirl of cornflower-blue skirts, the perfect foil for her flaming copper-red hair.
“Goodness gracious, Harry and Bartholomew,” Emmeline said in a firm voice that contained the perfect blend of gentle admonishment and disappointment.
“What are you thinking, behaving in this way? And look, we have a visitor!” She sent Mina a bright smile as she waved a hand at the entry hall.
“It’s my darling friend, Miss Davenport. ”
Bartholomew immediately relinquished his hold on the jar of caterpillars. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry, Miss Davenport,” he said, looking shamefaced. “Sorry, Harry. It’s just that Aristotle is hungry and Horatio”—he shot the raven a reproving look—“scarfed down all the mealy worms and crickets.”
“Yes, my apologies, Miss Davenport,” said Harry solemnly as she peered over the top of her spectacles. “And to you, Mama. But Bartholomew”—she addressed her brother—“there are plenty of insects and snails in the garden. Why ruin my biology project?”
“Bartholomew,” said Emmeline gently, “Aristotle tells me that caterpillars give him indigestion. He much prefers snails and crickets.”
So do I, said Horatio, ruffling his feathers. Emmeline must have heard the interjection too, as she sent the raven a small smile.
Turning back to Bartholomew she said, “Why don’t you and Gareth take your terrapin out to the pond to keep Archimedes company? I’m sure he’ll find plenty to eat on his own.”
“Archimedes?” asked Mina as she approached the bottom of the stairs.
“That’s my frog,” said Harry. “He and Aristotle are the best of friends.”
“All right,” said Bartholomew with an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, Gareth. Let’s go and find Archimedes.”
“I believe it’s still raining, so I’ll send Miss Bellweather down to help you put on your mackintoshes and Wellington boots,” Emmeline said as she began to descend the stairs.
“Miss Bellweather is the children’s new governess,” she explained to Mina, “from the Parasol Academy. She just started today and is still settling in.”
Mina smiled to herself. It sounded as though Miss Bellweather might have her hands full with Harry, Bartholomew, and Gareth. But then Emmeline had managed splendidly. She’d even won her employer’s heart and found true love. Just like a fairy tale.
The boys trooped down the stairs, Horatio fluttering after them, to gain access to the townhouse’s back garden while Harry disappeared with her rescued caterpillars.
Emmeline, as soon as she reached Mina’s side, threw her arms around her in an enthusiastic hug.
“My darling, darling Mina,” she declared, pulling away and holding her at arm’s length.
Her bright blue eyes were glowing. “Just look at you, my friend. Three months is far too long to spend apart from each other.”
“It is,” agreed Mina, blinking rapidly to clear a sudden rush of unexpected tears.
“Far too long. Especially because of your wonderful news.” Her gaze dipped to her friend’s waist and she squeezed her hands.
“Congratulations to you and Xavier,” she whispered so any staff lingering about the hall wouldn’t overhear.
“I’m so excited and happy that you two have a baby on the way to add to your beautiful family.
I couldn’t think of a more deserving set of parents. ”
“Thank you,” returned Emmeline softly, her eyes misty with joy too.
She quickly brushed away a stray tear that had slipped onto her freckled cheek before adding, “But come”—she hooked Mina’s arm through hers and tugged her toward a grand set of double oak doors on one side of the entry hall where a pair of liveried footmen stood at attention—“let’s talk privately in the drawing room where there’s also afternoon tea waiting for us.
Xavier’s cook, Mrs. Punchbowl, has made a decadent chocolate cake and three kinds of petit fours for us to try. ”
“A cake and petit fours?” Mina laughed as they entered the opulently furnished drawing room, which was a study in soft green and cream and the warmth of gleaming wood. “Good heavens. I won’t need dinner tonight.”
“I firmly believe that one cannot live on tea and cucumber sandwiches alone,” asserted Emmeline.
“And don’t worry if it’s not all eaten.” She gestured at the sumptuous spread—the enormous chocolate cake and several tiered, fine bone china cake stands laden with petit fours and delicate tarts and tiny choux buns and ribbon sandwiches—which had already been set out on a table before the fire along with a tea set.
“Between Horatio and the children and the servants, it will be gone by this time tomorrow.”
“Your husband won’t partake in any of the feasting?” asked Mina as she settled herself into a striped silk shepherdess chair.
“Oh no,” said Emmeline as she began to pour them cups of tea.
“Darling Xavier is more of a black coffee and plain fare man.” She grinned as she handed Mina a steaming cup made just the way she liked it.
“Which leaves more cake and pudding for me. And this one.” She patted her waist. “It’s a good thing that Xavier doesn’t mind that my waist is expanding at such a great rate of knots. ”
Mina laughed. “Of course he wouldn’t. He’s entirely besotted with you. And why wouldn’t he be?”
Emmeline began slicing up the cake that was a magnificent, mouthwatering combination of chocolate sponge layered with mousse and raspberries.
“Well, it’s a good thing that the besottedness is mutual,” she said with a soft smile.
“I think being so in love is rather like this cake. It’s rich and delicious and brimming with abundant joy.
And untold fun,” she added as she plated a perfect slice for Mina and handed it to her.
“I never thought that marriage could be like this.”
“I’m nothing but happy for you, Emmeline,” said Mina.
And she meant it. Emmeline’s first, short-lived marriage to a ne’er-do-well playwright—a man who’d left her with nothing at all after his untimely death—had only brought her frustration and sorrow.
But Xavier, the Duke of St Lawrence—who by all accounts had been an eccentric loner—had turned out to be the man of her dreams.
Emmeline chatted for a while about the family’s extended sojourn at the seaside in Kent, and how thrilled Xavier had been to be awarded the commission for the enormous clock that would grace the top of St Stephen’s Tower at the new Palace of Westminster.
“He’s actually meeting with the Astronomer Royal at Greenwich as we speak,” said Emmeline proudly.
“I cannot wait to hear when the construction of the clock will commence. Hopefully soon.”
Naturally, the conversation turned to Mina’s newest position, working for the Marquess of Kinsale.
Emmeline had met the Irish nobleman once before, albeit briefly, only a few days before she married Xavier.
“He seems like a lovely man,” she said. “And it was such a shame that he couldn’t attend our wedding.
I understand he had pressing business at his estate in Ireland.
Xavier certainly speaks very highly of him.
But, I must say”—Emmeline cast a quizzical look Mina’s way—“I didn’t know that he had a ward. Neither did Xavier.”
Mina put down her overflowing plate of afternoon tea treats; she’d suddenly lost her appetite. Indeed, it seemed like now was the time to confess all to her friend about her pickliest of pickly situations.
So she did. Mina drew a deep breath and poured everything out to Emmeline.
She told her about little Lord Fitzwilliam and Lady Grenfell’s prophetic dream and Mina’s deathbed promise to the dowager countess that she’d protect her godson “no matter what.” And about Sir Bedivere Ponsonby and his ensorcelled ring and how he wanted to spirit his ward off to the Arctic.
She told Emmeline about her suspicions that the baronet was being controlled by Evil Queen Mab—and that for some unfathomable reason, the Fae queen wanted Christopher.
And of course, how Mina, for all intents and purposes under the eyes of the law, had kidnapped the boy off the Valiant and that her teleportation attempt had gone horribly awry, so she’d ended up on Lord Kinsale’s ship.
But more than that, Lord Kinsale believed Christopher was her son and that she was an unwed mother.
While Mina had also confessed that the marquess had ostensibly hired her to teach Tom Fleet, a pickpocket from the streets, he’d really, secretly wanted her to help him with his stammer and to give him etiquette lessons.
Which she’d been doing, all the while keeping up the pretense that Christopher was hers.
And that she felt horrible about it and was as guilt-ridden as could be.
She didn’t dare own up to the fact that in the early hours of the morning, she and Lord Kinsale had kissed. Not yet, at least. Emmeline had enough to grapple with.
Emmeline, of course, listened carefully throughout, only stopping Mina every now and again to ask a pertinent question or two. She was particularly interested to learn that the Fae had provided Mina with a previously unheard-of Glamify spell on two occasions.
When Mina finished recounting her troubles, she released a huge sigh.
“It’s all such a huge mess, Emmeline, and I don’t quite know what to do.
About any of it. Especially now that Sir Bedivere is back in London and doubling his efforts to locate young Christopher.
And … and I’m so sorry that I’ve just burdened you with my tale of woe.
To be perfectly honest, if you showed me the door, or contacted Scotland Yard or even Mrs. Temple to report my misconduct, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest.”