About the grass and snakes and spawning lakes and the different types of trees
And I will find a way that leads from cruel April into May
And someday soon it will be June and you'll decide to stay
19th April, 1890 — Podmore Zoological Gardens
Charity Lloyd
He had expected that taking over guardianship of an eight-year-old child he barely knew would be a trial, of course. And it was not without its trials - he still felt entirely out of his depth - but Charity had proven to be a very sensible, very sweet girl, and remarkably little trouble in the day to day. In fact, Alfred (at more than twenty-five years her senior!) and his endless calamities were considerably harder work to contemplate.
Cursed or not cursed, though, Charity seemed quite fond of his brother, and if Evander had discreetly taken a leaf out of Alfred’s book, he was not going to admit it, but...
In spite of her governess for company, she spent a great deal of her time cooped up in the house - and with him at the Ministry most days of the week, he didn’t get to spend much time with her either. So, this Sunday Evander had suggested they might visit the zoo. It was not sailing (obviously) but it was in walking distance and, more importantly, bound to be perfectly safe. The visit would be more for her sake than his - children liked animals, apparently? - but he would be glad if he could spend some time with her without thinking about anything else.
“Miss Clearwater says you are getting on very well with your studies,” Evander was saying, presently, as they meandered through the zoo. “She showed me your copybook, too, and your penmanship is excellent... where to, next?” He interrupted himself to ask, supposing Charity ought to pick which exhibit they wandered to next, being the eight-year-old here.
Cursed or not cursed, though, Charity seemed quite fond of his brother, and if Evander had discreetly taken a leaf out of Alfred’s book, he was not going to admit it, but...
In spite of her governess for company, she spent a great deal of her time cooped up in the house - and with him at the Ministry most days of the week, he didn’t get to spend much time with her either. So, this Sunday Evander had suggested they might visit the zoo. It was not sailing (obviously) but it was in walking distance and, more importantly, bound to be perfectly safe. The visit would be more for her sake than his - children liked animals, apparently? - but he would be glad if he could spend some time with her without thinking about anything else.
“Miss Clearwater says you are getting on very well with your studies,” Evander was saying, presently, as they meandered through the zoo. “She showed me your copybook, too, and your penmanship is excellent... where to, next?” He interrupted himself to ask, supposing Charity ought to pick which exhibit they wandered to next, being the eight-year-old here.
