She was going to punch him. It wasn’t dignified and it was the sort of behaviour she had spent her entire life suppressing but Merlin help her she took a step towards him and rage rose in her the likes of which she hadn’t felt in years. His smug, punctilious face was just itching to have the shape of her hand imprinted on it.

Perhaps a good slap would snap Maeve out of whatever this was too? She simply had to be under an enchantment and yet, she genuinely looked happy. There was a small possibility that violence might cheer Maeve further but Cait wasn’t prepared to risk it.

“I suppose that would be… appropriate,” she managed to force out the word, the degree to which all of this was the exact opposite overwhelming Cait to the point she had to sit back down.

The following 2 users Like Caitríona Connolly's post:2 users Like Caitríona Connolly's post
   Maeve Connolly, Prudence Browne

"Well then, I'm glad that's settled," He said in an attempt to be cheerful. He'd had two options - uncomfortably get in between whatever this stand-off was between Maeve and her mother or feign complete ignorance to it all and carry on as if he was not picking up on every nuance, frown and unhappy tones exchanged. The latter worked just fine for love-stricken Barnabas.

Hopeful that this altercation was over with - the facts had been laid out and an announcement decision had been made. What more was there to deal with that wouldn't result in aggravation for either female? He looped her arm in his with a forced smile, "Shall we retire to our room until dinner, Mrs. Skeeter?" To get away from his mother-in-law's scorn and be safely tucked away with his new bride - his soft, lovely, freckled new bride... his cheeks colored. Really! Such thoughts in front of her mother! Lucky she wasn't a legilimens.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

As if its own master, Maeve’s expression soured at the name. Mrs. Skeeter. Happy though she was to have him as her husband, she was still a Connolly through and through. Catching herself, Maeve quickly adopted something more neutral, praying her mother hadn’t caught it.

“But of course,” she cooed.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Her daughter's compliance was the final straw. She couldn't bear witness to this for another moment and she desperately needed to speak to Pádraig: to vent, to seek council, to make sure she hadn't received a blow to the head in the recent past nobody had seen fit to tell her about.

With a pop Cait apparated away and just about managed to open her mouth before she felt burst into tears and fell against her baffled husband's chest.