March 27th, 1888 — Macmillan residence. Wellingtonshire, Hogsmeade.

He simply couldn't take it any longer.

At some uncivilized hour that morning - even dawn hadn't broken yet - his daughter had decided she was displeased in some way and had proven to him that she had inherited her mother's talent for opening her mouth and loudly ejecting sounds no one wanted nor needed to hear. This had gone on for at least an hour after which he'd been unable to get back to sleep. Had they been living in a house he likely wouldn't have heard her but even in his apartment which had reasonably thick walls, the proximity was such that he couldn't not hear her. He'd actually resorted to a silencing charm in the end and felt the tiniest shred of guilt about it the next morning. The tiniest. He'd been unable to get back to sleep for a couple hours and by the time he did, he only had an hour and a half before he had to get ready for work.

He was dark around the eyes and had taken the afternoon off with the intention of sorting out his wayward toddling daughter once and for all. He'd been trying to avoid this course of action for fear his mother would think less of him as a father and that Mrs. Selwyn would take it as a personal affront since he was sure she'd suggested taking the girl into her home at least once but he didn't know if she had been serious, nor did he actually want the person who had reared his wife to have that much influence over his daughter who inevitably had the disadvantage of being predisposed to turn out like her ill-fated mother.

Charles and his burden of a daughter arrived without appointment at his parents' Wellingtonshire home and was shown in to the library where his mother was apparently occupied at present. He quietly slunk into the room like the sheepish daughter-ditching twenty-seven year old that he was. He nudged the three year old in front of him like an offering to some god or goddess that requested child sacrifice. What he was really doing was angling for her to soften his mother up in the way that only granddaughters could. "Good afternoon, Mama. I hope you don't mind that I brought Althea along." He exaggerated the name both for his mother's benefit and his daughter's, not that he had much hope of the latter following the conversation well enough to benefit from it.

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The streak of morbidity in her character that had led her to take her older brother’s property was happily being fuelled by the joint pleasures of Elmer’s poetically loquacious presence after so many months of his being away and her Philip’s extensive library. Olivia had presumably added to it since his death but of all the things Helena could accuse her sister-in-law of lacking a sharp and enquiring mind was not one of them so those tomes were also quite welcome. John had thought she was mad to want this house but, as with everything, he had acquiesced quickly and without questioning her too much and they had settled without fuss and were enjoying the benefits of not having to rebuild a house entirely from the bottom up. Regan had even gifted them the furniture and Helena congratulated herself on moving them back to Hogsmeade permanently with the absolute minimum of fuss.

Settled with a pot of tea and a book of travel anecdotes about murderous tribes in far off lands – fuelling nothing but her anxiety that Elmer should never leave again – Helena was unperturbed to glance up into the eyes of her granddaughter. At any time now little Nimue would display magic and Helena had a selfish hope that it would somehow involve popping over to see her but a glance up at Charles squashed that theory for another day.

“Of course I don’t mind,” she said in a tone as amused as it was chiding at him for even suggesting such a thing, setting down her book and shuffling up her seat so her granddaughter could climb up next to her. They were in private so she thought it appropriate though she doubted the previous incumbent of the house would have agreed with her. ”You’re insisting upon that name still I take it?”

  

Charles wished his daughter had a better instinct for how she ought to behave, even at three or however old she was. Why did she insist on scaling the furniture like a chimney sweep up a flue? If his mother wasn't going to chastise her though, he was willing to let it slide. "Althea is far more refined and has a much nicer meaning besides." He loathed displeasing his mother even ever so slightly, but he was determined Noelle would not win the battle even in death. Even if it intensified her haunting. It was really only a matter of time before she found him again, he was convinced of it. There was another reason to keep his daughter elsewhere, Noelle's ghostly influence was potentially even more damaging that she might have been in the flesh.

He wanted then to launch into requesting that she take her granddaughter but decided that he wanted to soften her up a little more beforehand. Charles cleared his throat and perched on the edge of the nearest chair. "How have you been keeping, Mama? You look very well considering you have Elmer ghouling about the place." Of his brothers, Elmer was actually his favorite and he had tried to sound lightly teasing to cover the sharpness behind them for despite being his favorite brother, Elmer's only competition was Edward and Charles despised the pair of them.

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Helena was oblivious to any behavioural failings on Althea’s part having, as she did, the utter blind affection for one’s grandchildren that made it impossible for her to be anything other than perfect in every way. The name was far from terrible, and she had a fair idea of why Charles was so very insistent but just as her son had not questioned her decision to take this house on as her own so she was not going to question him. Althea it was and she would not permit a single person to pass comment upon her son and remain in her presence.

“Leave your brother be,” she scolded fondly, any force in her instruction being mostly lost as she cooed at her granddaughter who promptly climbed onto her lap with a wide smile. She really was perfect: she expected no less of Charles of course but, though she would never say it to her friend, she truly hoped the part of her that was Noelle never came to the surface. Trust the ridiculous girl to linger on, mournful and more irritating in death than she ever could have been in life.

“I’m very well but I take it you haven’t come just to ask after my health?”

  

Charles fought back a wince as his graceless sapling of a daughter clambered up onto his mother's lap like a primate. His mother seemed to appreciate it at least, but he thought his daughter ought to be more disciplined at whatever age she was now. There was no time to really ponder his parenting style or lack thereof at present, however.

Finally, his mother brought his visit to its purpose. He delicately sat down in a chair to the side of her as he tried to remember the exact way he had decided to broach the subject. He began on a slightly dishonest note. "I thought you both might benefit from seeing one another today." Not that it was an out and out lie, although it was enough of a lie that he couldn't leave it there for his mother to call him out on it. "There's also another matter..." Would it be worse if he asked his mother to take Althea for the foreseeable future, or worse if he asked her to take her for a night or two and then indefinitely failed to retrieve her? "I have an engagement tomorrow," Charles looked down at his hands and began idly plucking at a loose thread on his sleeve as he continued to speak, "That wedding everyone's talking about. Her nurse is no longer able to care for her and I was hoping she might be able to stay with you." That his mother was only to have the girl for a day or two was supposed to be implied but conveniently not stated. They were two separate statements, it wasn't really lying if his mother jumped to conclusions even if they were conclusions he'd purposely lead her to.

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It was a charming series of lies that her son peddled to her but Helena found it difficult to form a particularly substantial protest in her mind. True, she and John were more than content with their quiet, secluded lifestyle, often to the detriment of their social invitations, but they were not averse to company, especially when it came in the form of their granddaughter. And if it was only for a day or two – realistically she expected it to extend to a few days after that too but didn’t mind – then she was more than happy to oblige her son.

“Of course she can,” she answered her son, bouncing her granddaughter on her lap and earning a happy giggle for her trouble. Glancing towards Charles gave Helena pause though. His demeanour, so unlike his brother’s in every aspect, was off and almost immediately she sensed that he was relieved for some reason that she had agreed. But why? It was not an unreasonable request and surely he had not doubted she would wish to spend time with Althea…unless…

“How long do you expect her nurse to be indisposed?” She questioned coolly, eyes piercing into her son as she awaited the reply. Surely he was not trying to free himself of responsibility for his daughter in such a heavy-handed manner? She might be induced to understanding his reasons but Helena wasn’t sure she could excuse the clumsiness of it!

  

Charles could tell from the way his mother was looking at him that the jig was up. He should have known she would catch him out, she was far too shrewd and he ought to have known better. If he didn't come clean now though she'd probably be less inclined to keep his daughter for even the brief period that he was requesting.

He looked away sheepishly as he made his noncommittal response. "I'm not altogether sure, Mama." Fearing he wasn't being honest enough, he continued, "I suspect it may be some time." He couldn't meet her eyes at all now, afraid that he would see disappointment or anger there.

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Helena wasn’t sure whether she ought to laugh or send him to his room without supper. He was as utterly transparent as a sticky child caught out sneaking sugar from the kitchen and clearly had no intention of looking after his daughter for as long as she and John would do it for him. Perhaps it would be for the best though? Althea might be happier with a little more attention and they were hardly lacking in funds.

And it might mean Charles took the freedom to find himself another wife and a new mother for Althea.

“I can hardly say no, can I?” She said wryly, stroking a hand through her granddaughter’s soft curls, so very like Charles had been when he was a child. It was hardly an imposition even if it set an unfortunate precedent for the future.

“What kind of engagement is it? I heard about a ball but obviously your father and I will not be in attendance.”

  

Despite her catching him out, she was at least not bringing it up directly and even seemed to be perfectly willing to take his daughter in, although he wasn't so naive as to think that she wasn't potentially judging him for it all the same. It was easier to take the possibility of her thinking less of him if there was no way to confirm it. "It's a wedding." He still felt sheepish as hell though. "I hope you know how grateful I am to you for being so understanding, and how very beneficial it will be for Althea to have a proper female figure to influence her." While he might be kissing ass he was at least being honest at the same time. Now he just had to find a way to excuse himself as soon as possible but without making it look too obvious that he had only visited to dump his daughter and run.

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Her son was fortunate that the painfully obvious flattery did the trick, and that her granddaughter’s smile was better than any nonsense Charles might spew at her in pursuit of her capitulation. It was inevitable anyway – she could hardly deny her children anything, which was likely why Elmer was up to something she didn’t wish to know about in Peru.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you dear,” she spoke mostly to Althea, but caught Charles’ eye at the last moment. “Perhaps I’ll take her to visit your auntie Attie…Emma usually visits her about this time I believe so there will be plenty of females to influence her.”

If he was going to disregard subtlety then she deserved to have a little fun at his expense, surely? And it would be impossible to ignore the glances he sent towards Emma when he thought nobody was looking, though Helena hoped dearly it was only a lingering fancy from their youth.

"Off you go then, I certainly don't want to keep you from a wedding."

Perhaps it might push him in the right direction after all...