28 February, 1894 — Greengrass Home

Ford had thought the contractors who were meant to build the third floor had been a little overly cautious when they'd delayed starting work in earnest until after the upcoming cold snap, but as he surveyed the multiple feet of snow piled against the edges of the house he was profoundly grateful to have a real roof over all of their heads and not a magically reinforced tarp. Hopefully the snow would clear soon enough that they would still be able to finish on time. The builder hadn't seemed anxious about the timeline when he'd suggested the delay, but that had been when the paper had only said cold weather, with nothing about a blizzard. If the bedrooms weren't ready in time then Ford supposed they would have to stay extra nights at the Sanditon until it was finished, because there was no way he could move Miss Farley into his room in the meantime. It was already the smallest one in the house, originally intended for a live-in servant rather than the head of the household. Theoretically perhaps they could oust Mama from her room — it was big enough for two, and had the attached bath — but Mama would complain bitterly, and it would be hard to explain to anyone who didn't know about their finances why this made more sense than simply staying at the hotel another week. Hopefully the snow would clear and the third floor wouldn't take long and this would all be a moot point. In the meantime, there was no real sense in worrying about it; unless he became an overnight expert in weather charms there was nothing he could do to change anything.

An owl had arrived this morning informing him that the Ministry was not expecting anyone to report in (except "critical personnel", which was not defined in the missive but which Ford was sure he was safe to assume he was not included in) due to the impassibility of the streets and the continued unreliability of the floo. So he had nowhere to go today, apparently, and no way to get there even if he'd wanted to. (No trips to Tycho's today, then — but if owls could fly then presumably Ty could, too?)

He'd had breakfast with Grace then tried and failed to read in his bedroom (he'd wanted to read to distract himself from all the things he usually did when he had free time at home these days — mostly pacing and fretting — but he was too anxious to focus on reading). Eventually he abandoned the book and went to the kitchen to fix cocoa, which he intended to share with Grace, but when he carried two mugs into the parlor it was Clementine he found first, and although he had precisely no desire to sit and chat with Clementine over cups of cocoa it seemed rude to walk through the room with two mugs and not at least ask if she wanted one.

So: "Cococa?" he offered, holding a mug in her direction. He didn't sit yet, fully intending to leave the room in search of Grace if she declined (though he did not imagine he would be so lucky).

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