The next day seemed to be something called "Boxing Day," and Alice had never heard of it before. All that really happened was that her grandfather gave bonuses to his staff. Apparently, it was also a day of sales similar to Black Friday back home.

Alice was happy to be able to get away from the house with her husband on the horses for a few hours. He brought her to the old Orangery—apparently the greenhouse attached to the manor was a recent construct—and they had a picnic. And a little necking…or as Hieronymous called it, snogging.

"Hieronymous?" she asked, pulling back a little bit so she could look him in the eye. "Do you think we ought to invite your father to the wedding?"

Her husband let out a sigh. "For what purpose?" he asked.

"He needs to know more about us than what you have told him, I think," Alice suggested. "It would probably be better coming from you than from someone else. From that letter I gave you, I don't think he even knows how old I am."

"I know he doesn't know you're Carleton's granddaughter," Hieronymous mused. "I wonder…should I hit him with one scandal at a time, or both at once?" He had an insane glint in his eyes that would have made the entire student body cower over what new torture he was devising for them, but she could not help but burst out laughing.

"It's the day after tomorrow Hieronymous!" she reminded him. "You'd better make up your mind soon."

"I will consider it," he said, kissing her again.

...

"You should find whatever you desire in here," Lord Carleton said as he led the younger man into the conservatory the next day. Hieronymous had expressed an interest in finding something for Alice's hair tonight, and this was certainly the most convenient place to find it.

"You keep it very well tended," Hieronymous commented, looking around the large glass chamber.

Carleton nodded. "This is actually one of my favorite places in the estate. At times, the ability to become increasingly aware of life is a balm to the spirit." He breathed deeply, the smell of plants, earth, and the controlled humidity of the room seemed a relief especially when compared to his study.

The younger man nodded ascent, but there was clearly something on his mind. "There is a table with chairs near the fountain," he suggested.

"That would be pleasant," Hieronymous noted.

He led him to the fountain where a marble Grecian woman poured water from her pitcher into a pond of water lilies, sat in one of the black lattice chairs, and waited for the young man to begin.

"You are unusually gracious about the marriage, and very accepting of me," Hieronymous said. It was not a question, but rather a statement of fact.

Carleton nodded. "The manner in which the marriage occurred was not contrived by either of you. I feel it would be unfair of me to blame you for an accident—though you could have chosen a safer place for your experiment, I doubt you foresaw the result. I cannot blame her for her impulse to help as she may not have known if there would be sufficient time to fetch more experienced aid."

Hieronymous blinked. "I actually had not considered that possibility at the time. I had thought by choosing a room with a lock it would be more secure, and had planned to be done well before she would arrive to sort the mail. I did not plan for the possibility of failure, which I believe was my greatest error in creating that particular situation."

Carleton nodded. "Not wanting to fail, and therefore not making plans for it, is a common human failing. Once someone has failed a few times, well, they tend to hedge their bets with more care."

The younger man shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his chair. Perhaps due to his previous experiences, Hieronymous thought that he was saying that he should have known better. It was not exactly what he had meant, but it did have some truth to it. At least he had been willing to take responsibility for his failure.

"At any rate, done is done and there is never any going back." Carleton continued. "And the results seem to be positive. Alice informs me that getting past your 'defensive mechanism,' as she calls it, took some doing."

Hieronymous could not hide a small wry grin. "She was…is…quite young and I assumed it was a situation she would not want, or perhaps should not want. I tried to chase her away, but it did not work."

"A failing that actually counts in your favor," Carleton said with a wry grin of his own. "And I am afraid that stubbornness is a familial trait. You will have to deal with it again." His grin faded as his words became serious once more. "She tells me that you are a gentleman, I have not seen anything to suggest otherwise, and that even the harsh treatment your students receive at your hands is simply a measure to protect them. She both likes and respects you and, if I may say so, has become quite attached to you."

The young man accepted that without any surprise evident on his face. Apparently his granddaughter had told him as much through her actions and words.

"I am afraid that I credit luck," Hieronymous started, "more than my own personal qualities in attracting and keeping her attentions. When Alice made it abundantly clear that she desired a connection with me, I surrendered to what we both wished."

Carleton nodded. "Her grandmother was like that. She rode roughshod over me every now and then. She only did that when she was right though, and I never could decide if that was a blessing or not."

"Apparently she shares more with your late wife than her physical appearance," Hieronymous noted.

"That she does," Carleton admitted. "And from her dismissal of the power and wealth she would have if she were not married to you, I assume that like her grandmother she also values your attentions more than either of those things."

"I have wondered," Hieronymous mused, "if she is simply too young to fully understand what influence and wealth are capable of accomplishing in the right, or wrong, hands."

Carleton shrugged. "She considers leaving it in Clark's hands to be an adequate solution, and would rather not perform those duties herself anyway."

"He does have the makings of a skillful politician, despite his oddities. His sense of humor is on the gallows side, but that may be an asset for a politician," Hieronymous admitted. "I doubt you will find conducting his tutelage overtaxing."

"Which brings your plans for the future up," Carleton said. "Before you say it, Alice has told me that you are resistant to take your father's position. I can also understand your attachment to Iris as long as Alice attends there. While we do have an equivalent academy near here, they do not admit married pupils as I am sure you are aware."

Hieronymous was defiantly aware, as it was the one he had attended, himself. "I can see where you would want me to take my father's position professionally. At the moment, I have no interest personally in doing so," the younger man replied.

Carleton nodded. "You are aware, I assume, of my efforts to grant immediate family members of witches and wizards status behind the Velvet Curtain?"

Hieronymous nodded.

"My personal reasons for this effort are obvious to all," Carleton replied. The chance that he could see and hold his daughter again one day…that alone would be worth any fight. Getting to know two of her children was delightful, but it was not the same as getting his little girl back. "There have been too many families separated by the Velvet Curtain. Mine, which is now also yours, is one of them. My professional reason for this is marriage to normals would no longer be a difficulty, and would result in greater human mage numbers as more children would be born to them." In truth, many would see marriage to a normal that would be able to care for their children on Earth, while they 'commuted' to Otherworld for their jobs, an attractive option. If the mage was good with green magic, the spouse could live as long as the mage, even. It had once been that way. "The number of demons is increasing, and historically this happens directly before some new leader rises to the top to unite the warring clans and attacks territory of other races."

The younger man frowned at the table. While he was well versed in history, the latest intelligence reports were not something readily available to him.

"At any rate," Carleton admitted, "it is necessary for me to spearhead this movement myself, as the other races may think that we intend to war against them and are bolstering our numbers for the occasion. As I have a very clear personal reason for this legislation, they are less suspicious of us. Despite the intelligence reports, there are those who oppose change such as your father. If you replaced him, effectively being my son-in-law, you would have a similar excuse to be my greatest ally in the proceedings."

Hieronymous sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I left England at least half to avoid my father and what he wanted for my life. I did not feel that he had earned the right to make demands of me. And taking his place is what he wants of me now. I understand your professional reasons, and I can sympathize with your personal reasons. I remember feeling that I would do anything to recover someone that I loved but knowing that it was hopeless…." He trailed off, and then sat straight up to look him in the eye.

"Has your graciousness concerning my marriage to your granddaughter resulted from your political aspirations?" he asked.

"I would be lying if I said that it had not come to mind," Carleton confessed. "But it came to mind after I considered whether or not you were cut from the same cloth as your father, and would therefore have the desire or capability to ensure her happiness."

"Then we are both happily not like my father," Hieronymous concluded.

The young man was right; the first thing his father would have considered about the marriage would have been the political ramifications.

"And as for the other," Hieronymous said, "I have no decision at this time, but I will begin to consider it. As you said, I intend not to leave Iris for anywhere until Alice graduates."

"That is all I can fairly request of you," Carleton replied.