7th March, 1894 — Cassius Lestrange Household
Adrienne Lestrange

Ambrosia would not exactly say that she cared about the young woman that had tied them to the formidable name of Lestrange but, she reasoned, it was not such a terrible thing to keep her close. Adrienne had no mother to speak of, after all, and should the time ever come when she required advice then Ambrosia was determined that she would have as much say in proceedings as the Lestranges.

Assuming there were any left alive. They did seem to be dropping at an alarming rate - the last year alone had cost Adrienne's husband a sister-in-law and an aunt - so she was unsurprised to see black drapes in the sitting room she was ushered into. She was surprised to discover that her step-niece was looking a little peaky.

Was married life not suiting her? Shame. Another one for the club.

"You look dreadful," she said without preamble, waving away the servants as though they were her own. "What's the matter?"

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   Adrienne Lestrange

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Ambrosia's got 99 problems but this hot af set from MJ ain't 1 of them

As the day approached where she was scheduled to see her aunt - step mother? - Adrienne felt more and more unsure of the decision. It had been quite some time since she’d been at the receiving end of Ambrosia’s oh-so-careful-and-tactful conversation, and with the way Adrienne had been waking up in the mornings, she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to be subjected to such a bracing afternoon. But cancelling on Ambrosia Selwyn was not something one did without facing a variety of consequences, so Adrienne had completed the ridiculously Herculean task of sitting up in bed (or rather, Olympe had faithfully done so) and had a small breakfast. She’d had the French paper delivered to the house, so was in the middle of nursing a piece of toast in small bites when Olympe came in with another tisane for her suddenly roiling stomach. It was only after one sip that she had to leap out of bed and empty the contents of her barely eaten breakfast into the obliging pot that Olympe had brought up.

Nausea, fatigue, feeling like an overstuffed Sunday roast…

Merde.

Leaning back in relief at the feeling of the cold compress Olympe had conjured, Adrienne avoided meeting the eyes of her maid as she left fetch bring a potion to help with her symptoms. She had no idea how much time had passed when Olympe was waking her up to give her the potion and letting her know Ambrosia was due within the next hour. She’d hauled Adrienne out of bed to dress her with a careful eye seeing as Adrienne had insisted on keeping the appointment instead of resting in bed. After taking another potion to help her stomach, she went downstairs in her partial-mourning day dress, and braced herself as she walked into the parlor where the servants were just finishing setting up tea.

A tight smile stretched across her features as she was met with a greeting that only Ambrosia Selwyn could give. “And a good day to you too, aunt.” She said with a sigh, settling down in the couch, accepting the shawl that Olympe had come in to drape across her shoulders. “I hope the journey here was satisfactory?”

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Ambrosia clocked the shawl, the look of malaise on the younger woman’s features and the fact that the maid was tending to Adrienne as though she was an invalid and quickly formed a hypothesis to the cause. Opting to keep her thoughts to herself Ambrosia instead settled on the antique armchair and delicately placed her hands on her lap, back rigid in stark contrast to her niece.

“Quite fine, I do not yet require the use of a sedan chair,” she replied tartly, and with a pointed raise of her eyebrow. “You on the other hand…” she paused thoughtfully, calculating back to the last time she had seen Adrienne and deciding whatever had changed had done so recently. “Have you been ailing long?”

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Ambrosia's got 99 problems but this hot af set from MJ ain't 1 of them

A wry smile crossed Adrienne’s lips at Ambrosia’s tone. ‘Yet’ being the operative word, Adrienne thought, fully intent upon keeping it to herself unless she wanted to get speared with another severe look. She may be married to a prominent pureblood family, but she wasn’t so foolish to think that earned her some sort of rank over the woman who’d looked after her for a good chunk of her life. Instead she merely huffed out a small laugh before the conversation was quickly switched to her, and her grin faltered a fraction.

There was no use in trying to convince Ambrosia that she was completely fine with the way that Olympe was coddling her. She sighed. “A few weeks or so on and off,” She replied, fiddling with a tassel on her shawl. “I’ve had a few potions made, but the potioneer’s a little backed up, so it might be another day or so before I’m able to get one to fully relieve…whatever it is I have seem to catch.”

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If things were as she strongly suspected then Ambrosia doubted a few days would make much difference in the long run. It would be kinder to tell Adrienne, of course, but there was the outside possibility that her assessment was off the mark and Ambrosia simply refused to bear the indignity of even being the slightest bit wrong so she opted to keep it firmly to herself.

A little hint would not hurt, though.

“Perhaps you ought to see a proper healer?” And then it struck her. A way to help without having to show outward signs of anything as pedestrian as caring. “Or someone from when you insisted upon that job during the school holidays? That grim midwife you were so impressed with.”

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Ambrosia's got 99 problems but this hot af set from MJ ain't 1 of them

It was inevitable that the conversation would steer this way. Ambrosia was not a simpleton but she did come around to prodding at the subject faster than Adrienne would have liked. Adrienne pursed her lips first before she took her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled at it. She’d hoped that it would stop at the suggestion of her seeing a proper healer, but no; Ambrosia pressed onwards.

It was then that the young witch averted her gaze, knowing the flushed color in her cheeks would betray her outright. Being in the family way was entirely expected of her. Knowing what happened between a man and a woman was not a surprise to her. And yet she felt this intense desire to delay acknowledging the real reason she was feeling so dreadful until the last possible moment. “I’ve written to some healers around Hogsmeade,” she supplied vaguely. “I’m waiting to hear back from a few of them, I shouldn’t like to make any assumptions about my health. I wouldn’t want to worry anyone.” There was also the unspoken fact that she’d wanted to tell her father first; knowing the tendency of him and his wife throwing verbal barbs at each other, Adrienne had hoped she would have more time.

After a breath, she met the older woman’s gaze steadily. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

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Ambrosia pursed her lips together, quite sure of the opposite, but she held her tongue. If Adrienne was carrying a new Lestrange then that would bolt on the family connection forever and there was little name more prestigious in their society than that of Lestrange – the very last thing she wanted was for Adrienne to tell someone before it was sure she would deliver (and preferably a boy). Merlin help her if she proved a barren prospect.

“If you insist,” Ambrosia said sniffily, very much giving off the impression that she had decided to stop this line of enquiry. “I came to see if you would be equal to helping me organise a ball once the season began but if you’re not feeling well…” she trailed off, dangling the morsel, one she had most certainly never offered to the other young woman that had haunted her home, but one she had been waiting to extend since the girl had completed her animagus studies. A reward of sorts, though plenty would likely not look at it quite that way.

  

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Ambrosia's got 99 problems but this hot af set from MJ ain't 1 of them

Adrienne breathed in when she realized it was time to move onto a different topic. Thus far she was more than happy to let Ambrosia steer the conversation as much as she could; partially because she could feel her energy waning already, and also because Adrienne found it best to let the older woman choose the topics of conversation. Ambrosia’s chosen topic had Adrienne perking up though, and she did so by shifting in her chair ever so slightly.

She hadn’t been eager to begin her journey into society as a socialite; far from it, in fact. But ever since her conversation with Cash confirmed there was to be no straying from the path they’d both been set on, Adrienne had resolved to find something worth her time. She refused to pout and be miserable, despite the fact that the ache of not being able to pursue midwifery still stung. She was wondering who she might approach to perhaps guide her through her first year of marriage in society, but having Ambrosia Selwyn offer something to her had been much more than she’d anticipated.

She gave Ambrosia a small smile. “I didn’t think anyone would extend that offer to me so soon,” She ventured. “I’d be honored to help you though, I’m sure Olympe could fix me up some stronger dose of potion if the occasion called for it.”

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