April 8th, 1891 — Greengrass Residence, Bartonburg

As far as sons went Audra thought she'd done rather well in raising two sensible, decent young men. They were both intelligent, rather handsome (even if she was quite biased), responsible, kind, and really as virtuous as their names suggested. That was not to say her boys could do no wrong or fall prey to poor judgement from time to time, however. Noble's incident at dinner last month would have made a fine example but Audra was presently unaware of just how self-inflicted it had been.

The trouble with having such good boys was that the sort of behavior other mothers mightn't bat an eyelid at because it was so commonplace was not something that flew under Audra's radar. Her boys did not collapse in a heap in the doorway reeking of alcohol in the dead of night, they were not prone to reckless romantic entanglements with unsuitable ladies, or really recklessness in general. None that they allowed her to know of anyway. So when her eldest son was not home by the time she went to bed the night before it caught her notice. She was sure he hadn't been up to anything she wouldn't approve of - Ford was the most responsible of her boys and at time she felt he was even too responsible. On account of Ford being so thoroughly reliable she'd briefly worried that something terrible had happened to him. Fortunately she'd managed to convince herself that he was probably fine and she could throw herself fully into worrying that he was lying dead, or close to it, in a ditch somewhere if he was still absent come breakfast. In the end there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it in the dead of night if something had happened, she wouldn't even know where to start looking!

To her great relief it seemed he'd turned up sometime between her falling asleep and coming down for breakfast and she wouldn't have to send out a search party after all. "Good morning, Ducky!" She greeted him as she took her seat at the table, the relief she felt upon seeing him there lending itself to the bright, cheerful tone she addressed him with. "Or is it? You must be tired, when did you get in?" She didn't think he looked as though he hadn't been to bed yet which was good but that wasn't to say it wasn't possible. She took her seat at the table. Just because she had no plans to scold him for making her worry didn't mean she wasn't curious.

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Fortitude Greengrass

  

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Ford hadn't slept, but he had changed his clothes and shaved and consumed half a cup of coffee, so he was looking almost as put together as if he had. He was ready to face the day at work because he had to be; it wasn't possible to call out and miss a day of pay, not to mention raising the suspicions of his boss and coworkers. And he had to get through the day with nothing strange happening, because most of his mental energy was going to be reserved for trying to figure out how to extricate the dementor-filled wardrobe from the room at the Muggle inn before they had to hand the keys back over tomorrow morning. And figuring out where to put it, because clearly it could not come here.

He was expecting Grace down first that morning (she was usually the first to join him at breakfast) but was mildly surprised to see his mother instead. She was calling him ducky and asking questions about where he'd been last night, but Ford wasn't particularly phased by either; he'd expected this to at least some degree, particularly after the ordeal last month where he'd been trapped in the snow and not come home for several days all together.

Ford raised his coffee cup to his mouth and exhaled with his nose, sending a stream of steam up over his face that helped him feel a little more awake. "It is a good morning, Mama," he assured her mildly. "I wasn't out too late." (A lie, but hopefully not one she would press him on).

  

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Set by Lady!

"Well that's a relief." What his definition of 'too' late was in this instance, Audra couldn't claim to know. If he'd arrived just after she'd fallen asleep she supposed it wasn't hideously late but she thought she would've heard something if she'd only been in the lighter stages of sleep. That didn't mean it was impossible though, whenever he had come home she was sure he would've been very conscious of trying not to wake anyone by being too loud. He really was a good boy.

She'd purposely allowed for a lull in the 'conversation' (it was a bit premature to call it that) so she could gently ease in to the question without sounding overly confrontational, she even tried to seem vaguely distracted by her breakfast. "What were you up to last night? Something fun I hope?" She immediately had mixed feelings about the use of the word 'fun', she hadn't meant anything sordid by it but the alternative was something more childish and hopefully neither were appropriate. Certainly the former wasn't appropriate for mother's ears.

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Ford could not help the sharp, dry laugh that escaped him at his mother's question. The idea that any part of last night could be described as fun was patently ridiculous, though of course she would have no reason to know that. What did she think he'd been up to, he wondered? He could have easily claimed to be out at the club (though if that was the case, he would have come home first and told them where he was going). He could have made up a social event (though she would have wondered about not having heard of it before).

She probably thought he'd been up to no good, he supposed. Probably with a woman. Merlin, Mama, he couldn't help but think. As though he had any time at all to be thinking about that, with everything else he had to manage! (It did not occur to him to consider his exchange with Dorian Fisk as the same sort of thing — that was... different than fooling around with a girl).

"A friend asked me to meet him after work," he said, which wasn't a lie. "And we ended up getting dinner together so we could talk. That's all."

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   Cassius Lestrange

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Set by Lady!

"That was quite the late dinner," she replied mildly. She genuinely wasn't trying to suggest that she didn't believe him or that she was casting aspersions of any sort, it was an entirely innocent remark because it was a late dinner. In fact she was pleased for him, the more evenings he spent having dinner with friends after work, the less likely he was to be worrying over the finances or the marital prospects of his younger sisters. He was too young to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Was it Mr. Lestrange? He seems a nice sort." She wasn't sure she could name many of his other friends which seemed remiss of her, what sort of mother was she if she didn't at least know the names of her children's closest friends?

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Ford looked up at his mother a little sharply at the question. How could she have guessed that? He didn't want to tell her it was. Even if he was lying about what had actually happened last night (or only telling a small sliver of the truth, which was sort of the same), it felt like a violation of Cash's trust to admit that they'd spent the entirety of last night together. If his mother had guessed this much, was she going to keep poking at it and needling him until she figured out how to put more of the story together?

His instinct was to lie, but he couldn't think up another name in the moment. He was friends with Sayid Weber, but he was a professor at Hogwarts now and wouldn't be meeting up for dinner on a school night. Nemo Fisk, but the last thing he wanted was to have his mother start asking him about Fisks. He popped a slice of orange into his mouth so that he would have a moment to compose himself and think of an answer, and took his time to chew and swallow.

"I lost touch with Lestrange after dinner," he said with a shrug — also not technically a lie. Ford had more or less written him off by the time he got Cash's letter out of the blue yesterday morning. He didn't need to tell his mother that they'd reconnected — and he certainly didn't need to comment on him being a nice sort.

  

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Set by Lady!

The way he suddenly looked up after she'd mentioned Mr. Lestrange struck her as odd. She wasn't trying to interrogate him, not in a hostile fashion anyhow, only in a curious and caring sort of way. Clearly there was something significant to it, she couldn't imagine why else he might seem... caught off-guard?

"Oh." Well that would explain it. Audra offered him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Ducky. What a shame, perhaps he's simply been busy? I hope we didn't really frighten him off." She'd be surprised to hear it for she thought he'd seemed understanding but then he was a Lestrange, she supposed it would be more surprising if he didn't have impeccable poise and composure. "I think he made quite the impression on Grace, you know, she spoke ever so much." At least it had seemed that way at the time but she had been sat next to Noble at the time who, by contrast, had been unusually quiet particularly after he'd lost consciousness.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Ford looked back down at his breakfast, but his lips twitched towards a subtle smile at the comment about Grace. Lestrange had made a good impression on her, that much was true. Ford had recognized it, too. If only the night hadn't been sullied by Noble passing out before they reached dessert. A successful dinner party where Grace had actually participated would have done wonders for her confidence... and maybe even with the way things had ended up, it had still been good for her to have that experience. Ford briefly considered that perhaps he ought to thank Lestrange for it, but that would involve telling the other man how insecure Grace was most of the time, which seemed like something he ought not to go telling people outside the family. There was no danger that Lestrange would say anything about it to anyone else, Ford thought — after last night, Ford could probably confide literally anything in him and his secrets would be safe. Cash had enough on his mind at the moment, though, without having to keep track of the collective Greengrass family anxieties.

And in a roundabout way, Grace had already repaid him for the kindness, Ford reflected. Ford had been thinking about Grace laughing at Lestrange's joke when he'd cast the patronus, and without the patronus Cash would probably have been dead by now (or if not by now, by the end of the week at least). So he supposed they were all even.

"She did," he agreed. "Maybe we can get him to come to her ball this month. It would probably do her a lot of good to have someone else she feels comfortable with there," he mused, wondering if Cash had the mental capacity to attend parties at the moment. As far as parties went, though, it was a benign one — Ford would be there, and there were no particular expectations for Lestrange. Presumably he'd been going to worse parties while feeling this way for months, and he'd managed it without incident — just with Witch Weekly picking up and commenting on his macabre sense of humor.

  

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Set by Lady!

"Oh yes, you must invite him if you can, I've no doubt it'd do her some good." Thank Merlin she'd thought better of economizing on Grace's dress, one might think there wasn't much difference between white fabrics but that was a woeful mistake to make. Ford couldn't and wouldn't appreciate the difference between the white satin and the French ivory satin but every other young gentleman in attendance would, albeit subconsciously. The ivory was a little softer and would do much better for Grace's coloring. He might at least appreciate that the higher quality material would last longer and adapt nicely into a new gown when the time came. Of course she then had to get matching gloves made or else the colors wouldn't match and she might as well wear the parlor drapes instead. He'd probably have a stroke if he found out the ivory satin was 3 whole sickles per yard more expensive than the white but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "She's going to look radiant." If it seemed a little incongruous it was only because she'd withheld any comment expressing a hope that he saw Grace in her expensive handsome gown thinking it would sound somewhat mercenary of her. Of course she wanted her girls to marry well but she found herself taking extra care with her middle daughter, and thus taking extra delight in any successes she had for she admittedly needed more help than Verity and probably Clementine once the time came. 

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She's going to look radiant might have just been the sort of thing a doting mother would say about their daughter, and Ford's first inclination was to take it in that spirit. After half a second, though, he grew suspicious. Was there a particular thing that had spurred her to say this? Was Grace going to look radiant on the night of her Coming Out compared to any other night? Ford hadn't involved himself in the process of buying Grace a debutante gown, because that wasn't the sort of thing that brothers were supposed to be involved in, but now he wondered if he'd made a mistake with that.

"Mmm," he mumbled in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee. He could just leave it at that. Probably he should just leave it at that, because he had so many other things to worry about today and he didn't need to add any extras. He'd have his hands full trying to figure out what to do with the wardrobe and how to move it, and trying to figure out how long an infant dementor could survive without nourishment, and planning out what he was going to do about it... plus whatever he'd have to do for his actual job today. He didn't have the bandwidth to also be fretting about how much money Mama had spent on some silly gown Grace would only wear once. Still...

"Then the dress is coming along well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm so glad it's working out. I remember you had... reservations about the budget when we first talked about it." This was coded language, of course, and his message would have been clear: I don't care what the dress looks like, but it'd had better be the price we discussed.

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   Ursula Black

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Set by Lady!

Audra had never liked lying to her children, at least not once they were old enough to understand the world around them better. There was little harm in telling them the occasional white lie when they were children to ease their minds after a bad dream, or to put a smile on their face when they presented her with a frankly awful drawing that she would inevitably treasure forever. Lying about how much money she'd spent after being specifically implored not to by her now grown son did not fall under the category of harmless dishonesty. Telling him the truth now, however, wouldn't do anyone any good. He'd be upset at her which she'd find very distressing, he'd work himself up over the financials and probably ruminate on it for days until he sprouted a new gray hair, and then she'd feel guilty until he no longer seemed to be troubled by it.

It didn't have to be that way though, if she avoided admitting what she'd done, just until Grace was wearing it and being thoroughly admired by the gentlemen, then she could tell him and he'd immediately see that she'd made an executive decision and it had been worth it. First she'd have to get through the dishonesty part with as little actual dishonesty as possible.

It was her turn to busy herself with her breakfast for a moment whilst deliberating what exactly to say. "It's coming along splendidly." Comment on the dress and say nothing about the budget, then she wouldn't be lying to his face. "Truly." She felt she ought to say a little more to make sure he didn't feel inclined to prod for more details but she couldn't think of what else to say that wasn't verging on blatant dishonesty.

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He didn't believe her in the slightest. She was doing that thing, saying a statement that might be true but didn't actually respond to what he'd said directly. It was the same tactic he'd just employed to deflect her question about who he'd been with last night. Maybe it was a tactic that he'd learned from her. Hm.

If he called her out on it, though, they were going to fight, and he didn't have the energy for it. He hadn't slept, and he'd had a fairly heavy conversation with Noble less than two hours ago, and he had a whole problem of a dementor in a wardrobe in a Muggle inn to see to today. He couldn't afford to fight with Mama right now. And Grace might be down for breakfast any minute, besides, and he couldn't have her overhearing anything and starting to put the pieces together. Verity might survive a season knowing how desperate things were (might), but Grace would crumble.

"Alright, Mama," he said simply, hoping that by agreeing he would make her feel at least a little guilty for overspending. "I'm looking forward to seeing it."

  

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Set by Lady!

You got a lot to learn, if you'd just settle down and let the river run its course.

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Phew, she'd thrown him off the scent. Audra felt a momentary twinge of guilt but it passed quickly as she reminded herself firmly that she was only saving him unnecessary worry. He couldn't be trusted not to burden himself unnecessarily and so it was left to her to make sure she didn't add to the heavy weight already bearing down on his shoulders. As his mother it was her sacred duty to protect him, even if that meant protecting him from himself.

How are things at work going? The moment the question had crossed her mind she seized upon it for want of a different subject than one that might see Ford circling back to expenditures. Earning money ought to be far more comforting a topic for him and she hadn't heard much about his work of late.

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Outfit | Tag: Fortitude Greengrass | Notes:

  

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Normally, work would have been an exceptionally safe topic of conversation with his mother. Today, though, there were too many things to distract him from work to find any joy in talking about it. He had a dementor in a wardrobe to sort out, which meant he wasn't going to get anything particularly productive done today even if he had slept last night. That, and he was already a bit behind on work from how often he'd found himself thinking about a particular coworker during the day instead of filing the paperwork he was supposed to manage. Or — it was less that he was thinking about a particular coworker, and more that he kept thinking about how a particular coworker made him feel when he'd kissed his neck last week. He didn't know anything about Dorian Fisk, not really — despite having been caught loitering at his desk and having his scarf upstairs in his bedroom at this very minute — so when he was daydreaming it was only about those few stolen moments, not about the man himself.

But anyway. Work was not a safe topic.

"It's — fine," he said evasively. "I've been busy lately."

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Set by Lady!

You got a lot to learn, if you'd just settle down and let the river run its course.

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He sounded a little hesitant but Audra wasn't sure if it was the sort of hesitant that would ultimately welcome her curiosity or resent it. Probably he just needed a little encouragement about something or someone to listen to his work woes, whatever they were. Where was the harm in that? Are you sure? You can tell me about it, I'm good at listening, you know. Making him feel better about whatever trivial matter it was - he was far too competent to actually have any serious work troubles - would make up for the extra expenditure she'd made and the worry it would probably cause him.

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Outfit | Tag: Fortitude Greengrass | Notes:

  

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"Really, Mama, I'm sure it would just bore you," he responded, affecting a smile he didn't really feel the emotion behind with a good deal of difficulty. This was probably true, if he stuck to just talking about work, so it wasn't even really like he was lying — but he would have lied to her, he decided, if he meant he could get out of this conversation gracefully. He'd underestimated the amount of mental energy it took to just talk with Mama; he couldn't keep this up when he hadn't slept and he was still preoccupied with the dementor in the wardrobe in Muggle London.

Speaking of which. "I've got some errands to run after work, so I might be a little late for dinner tonight," he told her, hoping she accepted that at face value. He didn't know how he was going to get the dementor-wardrobe out of the inn, but he knew he had to do it before tomorrow morning, so after work seemed like the best time to try and tackle it. He was only going to get more delirious as time went on if he tried to go two nights in a row without sleeping.

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Set by Lady!