It took Jonathan a fortnight, an entire fortnight, to notice Proserpina creeping about the house. To be sure, their reunion had been joyous and exultant, their appetites for each other's minds and bodies so overwhelming, even though they had been in consultation of a kind before Arabella worked the final spell, that it had not been entirely shocking for him not to observe the cat who seemed to prefer the shadow with Jonathan's return, less enamored of Arabella's lap now that another had claimed her. Perhaps she was a poor mistress or witch, but Arabella couldn't find it within herself to mind the estrangement at first, so taken with her success and its consequence, Jonathan beside her when she woke, his voice running like a ribbon within the house, the taste of him in her mouth nearly whenever she wished. She had grown accustomed enough to having him about after the two weeks that she sought out her companion and thus it was that he found them, in complex negotiation about Fate and faery, whether another independent bargain needed to be struck for Mr. Norrell, who seemed far less eager for his return to England than Jonathan had been, the feline Congress Proserpina felt obligated to attend and the reasons for her reluctance. Arabella wouldn't have thought Jonathan, a magician, the King's former wizard, recent denizen of an Other World she had not yet grasped the dimensions of, should be so surprised to find them deep in conversation, but yet he was and loudly, exclaiming,
"My dear wife, whatever are you about?"
Proserpina was not inclined to tolerate the interruption, but Arabella whispered, just a little, how much she cared for them both and how her mate would be quite amenable to introduction if only she might explain a little first. She received a grudging acquiescence and Proserpina turned to one silvery paw in the interim.
"Well, you see, there were so many spells before you were able to return, so many I needed to perform and along the way, I managed to make Proserpina my familiar, and oh! how much easier it has all been, all the magical work and arrangements and she is so soothing and so erudite, a true companion," she explained but Jonathan raised an eyebrow and did not immediately clap her on the shoulder or chuck her chin as she'd expected.
"An erudite… cat? Surely, you are teazing me, my love," he remarked and she took a breath, felt her chest press against her stays, remembered the feeling of his hands on her hips as she looked down on him in the half-light of dawn, his eyes as clear as the finest agates.
"I don't see why you are so perplexed. Surely a familiar is not such an esoteric concept and I count myself lucky, blessed truly, to have gained her confidence and her incalculable aid. Why without her, it might have been another twelvemonth before I could achieve your return—she has brought us another year of happiness and communion, my love," she said. It was nothing but the truth and he needed to accept it; she could not do without him, the months of tears and strain to return him was proof of it, but she couldn't bear to part with Proserpina of her own volition either, her dear friend, the color of woodsmoke, who spoke to her so she understood and had a delight in Chaucer that Arabella knew to be unmatched in her personal acquaintance.
"You speak Latin to her and are able to comprehend her feline tongue?" Jonathan asked, beginning to grow interested as she knew he would, her dearest man, so flighty and resolute by turn, with those unruly dark curls and an unearthly power she could not measure but only sensed, like the sailor upon the sea.
"Yes, quite well, in fact. Better than Italian, even after all these months. When she is agreeable, I will make an introduction, but you must be very civil and formal at the start, she is particular about the beginning and then, you must understand that she will never be yours, but I still may be," she said. He would not like that, perhaps, but it was irrelevant to Proserpina. She looked at him with an unanticipated worry and smiled with relief when he put a hand on her cheek and then at her waist, stroking her side and grazing her breast through her woolen spenser so she sighed with it, oh Jonathan.
"I expect I can make do, if we are to be alone when it is needful," he said with a wonderful, libidinous grin and such soft eyes without any deviltry in them.
"That shan't be an difficulty, she spends hours in solitary contemplation and she always tells me when she prefers not to sleep alone," Arabella said. Proserpina lifted her amber eyes then in compleat approval. It was such a pleasure to know they would be in accord, she with Proserpina, with Jonathan, the three with each other, Arabella herself always needing to translate, as Proserpina had made it clear Jonathan could never learn to understand her and there was no spell for it. Arabella wondered about that but there were more pressing concerns, like Mr. Norell and the German problem, so she didn't argue. Jonathan was not inclined to dispute, not with her, and Proserpina had slipped to a corner by the fire, so it was resolved and with the least fuss imaginable.