Ironvale was halfway down the staircase when the door slammed shut, and he winced and fell back as if the action was a slap across the face. He hung onto the banister, his body swaying, a look on his face like he might be ill.
“Is this a bad time?” Caspian asked simply.
Ironvale closed his eyes and rubbed them with the palms of both his hands, then let out a deep exhale before snapping his eyes back open. “Ah, Caspian. Your Grace! You made it.” He wore an over-the-top smile and appeared intent on pretending that they had not just witnessed a most bizarre scene. “Wonderful. Wonderful,” he added as he rushed down the staircase to greet them. “I was hoping you would –”
“What is going on?” Thalia spoke over him. “Who was that?”
Ironvale grimaced. “That was… a rather tragic set of circumstances.”
“That is not an answer,” Thalia said.
He sighed. “That was Matilda, my governess… ex-governess, as it is. She is the third one this month, if you believe it? I go through the damn things like most people do napkins.”
“What on earth happened?” Thalia looked toward the closed door as if expecting Matilda to sweep back inside and explain the situation herself.
“What do you think?” Ironvale said, only to look back up the staircase where just now the head of a young boy appeared over the edge of the top step.
The young boy couldn’t have been older than five. He was lying on his stomach as he peered down at them, and with those big eyes and that wide toothy smile, he looked positively wicked; the type who enjoyed causing mayhem as so many young children seemed to do.
When he saw that they all looked up to spot him, his eyes widened and his head vanished.
“I see you there!” Ironvale shouted. “Don’t think we will not speak of this later!”
“Your son,” Caspian. “I see things are going well.”
Ironvale exhaled and his shoulders slumped. “Do not mistake me. I love the boy to death… although I fear that soon I might have to prove the fact.” He sighed deeply, as if every breath hurt. “He enjoys testing me. Or perhaps he just enjoys seeing what he can get away with? Whatever it is, I am at my wits end.”
“You will be fine,” Caspian said, sounding bored.
“I will be, once I find a replacement. Say, do either of you know where I might find a decent governess?”
“Why would we know that?” Caspian asked.
Ironvale shrugged. “Can’t ask to hurt.”
“Even if I did know one, I doubt I would tell you,” Thalia said. “I get the feeling that would be a relationship quickly ended.” She chuckled. “From what I have seen, I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.”
Ironvale looked at her ruefully. “Caspian, your wife speaks entirely too honestly for my liking.”
“Try living with it,” Caspian sighed.
With the initial chaos now behind them, Ironvale led Thalia and Caspian into his drawing room where he poured a large glass of whiskey for himself. He offered one to Thalia and Caspian too, of course, but they both declined.
“God, that is needed,” Ironvale moaned as he took a large mouthful. “Please, do not judge me.”
“I am,” Caspian said. “But not for this.”
Thalia laughed at what she assumed to be a joke, only to smother it when neither Caspian nor Ironvale joined in.
“Shall we get about business?” Caspian took a seat on the main couch and Thalia sat down beside him. She eyed his hand, thinking to take it, but abstained from the urge.
“Yes, yes…” Another large mouthful, and Ironvale put down the empty glass. “Business…” He gave his head a shake. “Sorry, you caught me on a bad day.”
“How do you think we feel?” Caspian said pointedly.
“Good point,” Ironvale agreed. “Hence, your being here.” He sat across from them, exhaled a final time, and found some sense of composure. “Right, straight to it then. As you know, Lord Donmere has been rather vocal about your marriage.”
Thalia scoffed. “That is a nice way of putting it.”
