The matters of the engagement moved along swiftly. The Wedding ceremony was set for early December, only a fortnight prior to the date Jet was to return to London. There were many preparations to make. While there could be no question regarding the position of Best Man, Elizabeth found herself in want of a Maid. She had no sisters but Philomena, who would be in no condition to attend the ceremony at all by that time, and her childhood friends had proven themselves unworthy of the title or the expense. She had no cousins of appropriate age nor did Arthur. Still, she had not been wholly without companion through the season. After much deliberation she requested that Miss Mason stand with her for the ceremony - a role her new friend had been honored to accept. It was only sensible; for it was well accepted within the household that it would not be so long before the now Miss Mason would become Lady Moore. As Ingrid was often present at the house fulfilling both her duties as a friend and as a bridesmaid Jet was easily able to contrive ways to casually meet with her. Most often he found her in the Library, but when the day was fine he would frequently come upon her in the garden. One particularly fine morning her came upon her sitting on a large decorative stone beside the carnations. "Miss Mason, I did not expect to come upon you today." He greeted her with a knowing smile.
"Lord Moore, I am glad to see you. No, I was not anticipating a visit today but Elizabeth requested I attend the Engagement dinner with the Duchess this evening and I had no reason to refuse her. The season was very difficult for her and I suppose she does not wish to be alone with only her elders. She feels certain that having my presence will somehow calm her nerves. Chester, what sort of woman is the Duchess?" Ingrid asked.
"She... " Jet started and thought for a moment. "Well, there is no point in being delicate about the matter. She is a difficult and exacting woman. She is very traditional in all ways. It's not that she does not like Elizabeth - she has expressed a fondness for her in the past which I believe to be genuine - but she simply is not comfortable with my sister. Conversation between the two of them is often stilted and painful to observe. Though I have rarely observed it for she doesn't care for my presence at all."
"Why not?" Ingrid viewed him quizzically.
"I believe it had to do with Arthur and I building a castle out of all of the books in the Library one particularly dreary day... or it could have been the time we managed to accidentally break the banister off of the main stair... or the morning when we raided the pantry and accidentally took the main dinner party entree and fed it to a stray dog... unstrung the harpsichord... To be fair those are merely the first events that come to mind. Now that I've started I'm quite certain I could continue for hours." Ingrid giggled lightly into her hand.
"I believe I can understand her reasoning then. You two must have been quite wild."
"I wouldn't say that. The use of past tense is rather presumptuous." a devilish grin spread across his face.
"Oh dear." she gently smiled back at him. He offered his hand to her, she accepted pulling herself up.
"I would not worry about the Duchess, for all her strict ways she is not a cruel person. She and my mother have been the most intimate of friends since well before I was born. I will tell you Elizabeth was quite right to invite you as the lady adores people from other lands and she will almost certainly ask you about every aspect of your life there - from the snow to the stockings."
"The stockings!" Ingrid laughed. Jet looked at her with mock seriousness.
"Oh yes, she will be most concerned with that particular item so be prepared to give a lengthy account of them." The two smiled and continued their stroll in silence for a time. "So, do you like our carnations?"
"Oh yes, very much. They are so beautiful and so many colors!" Ingrid gushed.
"Are carnations your favorite flower then?" Jet inquired.
"No, but they were Lady Danvers' favorite flower. I like to sit among them and think of her. She used to tell me of them when she would come to visit. I asked her to bring me some and I would plant them for her so she could always come back and see them but she told me they would not do well where we lived." she replied sadly.
"I take it you and she were very close?" the two continued to stroll but more slowly now. She looked to him,
"Yes, she was my Godmother and just like a second mother to me. She and Lord Danvers used to visit us every Christmas until the year of her death." her voice caught. "I remember every year we would be celebrating the feast when there would come a knock on the door and a loud voice would boom 'Are there any good children in this house?' and Grandfather would say 'No, just this troublesome slip of a girl, but you may come in and warm yourself anyways.' and then he would open the door and reveal Lord Danvers all dressed up as Jultom- Father Christmas... with Lady Danvers behind carrying a sack of the most glorious presents! We would play at 'School' with the dolls for hours on end. It was how she taught me to speak English."
"She taught you very well." Jet said by way of a compliment.
"Yes. I am glad that I am able to see Lord Danvers again. He was not able to visit after Lady Danvers died because my baby Godbrother, Frederick, was too young to travel that far. Now that he is old enough to visit me there, here I am!" She laughed musically at this irony.
"Have you seen much of them since your arrival?" Jet furthered.
"Oh yes, but not nearly as much as I would like. Were it my decision alone I should never leave! My little Godbrother loves to get into all kinds of things. He is so very curious! We play around the house all day and at night I help him read his Bible stories. The English is harder in that book but we are learning together." Her eyes sparkled as she detailed her time at Lord Danvers house: the food, the hospitality, and the good company of the host and his son. Her enthusiasm carried her for some time, gleefully accounting some of even the most mundane tasks as though they were grand adventures. Jet found himself entirely captivated by her: her animated face, her glorious smile, those eyes that twinkled like stars, the way she moved her hands to try to better illustrate her points when her words failed to properly convey them, the way she was so enraptured by a world he had long grown weary with. She was a beacon of light on a dusky and dim evening and he felt himself inexorably drawn to her.
"How have you found the people of England so far, beyond the families Moore and Danvers?" Jet asked.
"They are a very different sort than what I am accustomed to. I lived with my Grandfather on the family farm most of the time and had little exposure to Court for most of my life. My life was very simple and the people we saw very open and friendly - though perhaps that was only because of familiarity." she attempted to mitigate the strangeness of those around her.
"No, I'm sorry to say familiarity would not aid you much in these parts - perhaps in the lower classes - but in the gentry it is important to keep a respectable distance. As the daughter of a Count I'm sure you have noticed the distinction." Jet observed.
"I wish I could say I did; but Grandfather was a gentleman farmer and he did not feel that my rank in England should have an affect on my life with him. Mother agreed with him, as she always did, and so I never truly felt the weight of my rank. I scarcely ever met my father until this year. I should not know how I would have grown in a world of governesses and sedentary accomplishments. Father was horrified when he found my greatest accomplishments were not with the needle or pen but with the gymnastic hoop and the management of crops and livestock." Ingrid smiled. "So he insisted it was time to begin the English portion of my education so I could become a true lady."
"I should say, it has been quite effective. No one would suspect you had ever been one to consort with cattle." She giggled politely.
"I suppose he was worried that on my current course I was as likely to marry a horse groom as a gentleman." Jet raised an eyebrow.
"Were you?" Ingrid turned her face modestly from the gentleman.
"No, I do not believe there was ever a danger of that. I had a few suitors but I preferred none of them." she answered honestly.
"And have you found any who you have preferred since?" Jet pressed gently. Her face seemed to turn quite a pleasing shade of pink.
"Perhaps." she answered shyly. Jet put out his arm as an invitation and took no small amount of pride and pleasure feeling those small, nimble fingers press gently upon its crook. The two continued their tour of the garden in this manner until such time as Ingrid had to excuse herself to prepare for her dinner with the Duchess.
Jet watched from an upper floor window as her coach drove from sight. "Are you going to marry her?" a small voice asked from beside him. He had not noticed that he was being observed; the child had moved with the slightness one learns from years among animals.
"Most likely." Jet answered his younger brother without turning his gaze from the spot the coach had disappeared at a moment earlier.
"Oh." Avery replied. He stood beside his sibling, keeping the same vigil. Seeing the two next to each other was much like looking at a mirror into the past, or perhaps the future if one were uncharitable to the potential of the small boy. Avery possessed the same sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and thin frame - though significantly less pale and wasted - he was every piece his brother in healthy miniature. He was well formed for his age and build, having earned strong rope-like muscles and a ruddy complexion from his time among the horses. Still, he was small. Height having not been gained by his elder self until his sixteenth year, it was expected the younger would follow the same pattern. "Why?" Jet thought for a moment how to best phrase such a thing for the young.
"Well, she's very pretty. And she is very nice... She comes from a very good family."
"Oh." Avery answered again. His face screwed up slightly as though he were pondering a difficult concept, finally he spoke:"Do you love her?" Now it was Jet's turn to think. He gazed out the window for some time before he answered the child.
"No." he said truthfully. "But I like her very much. I am certain, in time, I could grow to love her most ardently. Even if I could not I am certain we would still be quite happy with the arrangement."
"Does she love you?" the boy inquired. Jet once again found himself forced to consider this question.
"No, I am certain she does not. But I believe she does harbor a partiality towards me which, with proper tending, may grow and flower into something quite enviable. She would be a fine wife and, I imagine, a good mother - I should never regret her as the companion of my life. Her rank and connection would be quite beneficial for the future growth of our business." Jet answered. The child seemed pacified for the moment. Avery blew on the glass creating a fine fog of condensation on which he began to draw what looked like a long legged dog next to a chubby stick pony. "You had better stop that. Father will take a switch to you if he sees finger-markings on the windows." Jet scolded. The child continued to draw his picture.
"At least then he may notice I still live here." he said absently but with clear intention. He added a round representation of what was most likely the sun. Jet was struck dumb by the words. Certainly, he had never wholly considered Avery's plight. With father and child both often holed up in the house for days with no great pressing engagements he had naturally assumed a level of intimacy such a blunt statement belied. But then, he had never seen his father once praise the boy, or play with him; to be sure he could not even recall his father acknowledging Avery at all on occasion when they were together. Then, neither did he, nor did Philomena, and Elizabeth - who could have been claimed to have been his closest companion in the family; though even then only an occasional playmate - had been wholly devoured, in her attentions, by Arthur. He had no companion in Mother: pale and perpetually ill at ease, she felt no compulsion to coddle and attend to her sons once they had left the nursery. He was a child lost among a world of adults; all wrapped within their own affairs and giving no account to his. Jet thought to himself, by way of a compulsion, that perhaps he should take an interest in his young doppleganger - but then, who was he? A fine example for his brother to follow! There could be no question; it would be better for Avery to suffer in solitude than follow Jet's path.
"Well, use your sleeve to wipe it when you are finished." Jet finally replied. Turning on his heel he began to walk away but his step was halted by his name being called by that childish voice.
"Jet?" Avery hailed.
"Yes?" Jet did not look back but could still clearly picture those large blue eyes trained upon him, pleading for companionship.
"Would you like to ride horses with me this afternoon? I just broke in a lovely dapple gray and she could use a good run." Jet winced.
"Perhaps another time." he answered. He continued down the hall toward the stair.
In his office Jet considered the matter carefully. He had little doubt of his unsuitability for the job of mentor for the child, even the stable hands were a far better influence than he! He had contemplated the matter of a companion for Avery for quite some time before he came on a solution. Ingrid had mentioned earlier Lord Danvers' son Frederick. He had never particularly been concerned about the child and had thus never considered him. The child should have been well into his seventh year by now - perhaps a bit young for an effective match but easily old enough to begin to learn the art of riding. A student would allow Avery a chance to be admired for his skill. There could be no doubt that this would be a beneficial relationship that would pay great dividends. Even though he was quite young, Frederick was the heir to Donnerel Hall, its fortunes and its ventures. Fostering closeness between the younger generation would certainly promote continued closeness in business relations. At the very least this might keep the boy from trouble until such time as he was old enough to attend Eton - then it was Avery's own affair the path he chose. Jet dashed off a note inviting Lord Danvers to supper the following week and suggesting his son accompany.
Any misgivings Jet may have weighed regarding the introduction of Avery and Frederick were quickly forgotten. As he had suspected, Avery relished his role as master and Frederick proved to be an apt pupil quickly learning the skills Avery taught. The arrangement also had the added benefit of increasing the presence of Lord Danvers and Miss Mason, whom he often served as chaperone for (albeit a lax one), at the house. The days grew shorter as the Wedding approached. Lord Danvers; who could, in all honesty, be called the founder of their relationship; proved to be its architect as well. He seemed to take a particular joy in cultivating their courtship. He would often hint to Jet some of Ingrid's favorite things. "She adores Dandelions, but is rather indifferent to roses." he informed Jet before he presented her with a bouquet of the latter. Her joy as she pressed her face into the fluffy yellow down of two dozen dandelions was palpable - he could not help but laugh when she looked up with tiny flecks of yellow clinging to her long, pale eyelashes and speckling her translucent skin. "She plays the guitar quite well." he suggested "But she was unable to bring one with her as her father abhors the sound." A situation Jet rectified by offering her use of their music room which had lately, unbeknownst to her, gained a guitar. "She enjoys stories from America." Jet gave him a look but Lord Danvers just shrugged. As Christmas approached Jet was pleased to be able to obtain a copy of 'Little Women', a noted American book for girls, for his favorite. Whether or not he loved her seemed dreadfully irrelevant - he loved to see her pleased. Despite his duty to be an attentive chaperone Lord Danvers often seemed to be easily distracted from his task, allowing the two to often slip away. Jet soon realized that this was less a favor and more a show of trust in the integrity of his charge for, when he recovered the pair, it was always in the garden or at the stables or in the Library when the weather was sour. It seemed Ingrid enjoyed nothing more than watching Freddy as he learned his paces. Often she persuaded Jet to ride with her and the youths about the park or, when Freddy had advanced in skill, to sit with her in the buggy while Freddy drove the little white pony. Now having obtained the age of eight, Freddy had grown into a fine lad - already he was taller than Avery - who possessed quite a talent for driving horses. Arthur had watched the boy take the sleigh out after the first snow and laughed that perhaps the child might spare he and Elizabeth the expense of a carriage driver for the wedding. It would be on one of these sleigh rides just days before the nuptials were to occur that Jet would, observing her loveliness with her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and lips reddened by the cold, finally give her a gentle kiss. She grew suddenly silent looking down at the carriage floor.
"I apologize if I was too forward." Jet sputtered quickly.
"No, it is not that." Ingrid replied. "I have just never been kissed before. I - I think I should like to be kissed again." Jet smiled and acquiesced to her wish. The two spent the remainder of the ride sitting quietly but leaning shoulder to shoulder, the red on their cheeks from the cold hiding the depths of emotion the small, innocent act had excited. Ingrid smiled gently at her suitor as the now present Lord Danvers took her hand to aid her descent from the sleigh. It was then Jet resolved that, following his sojourn to London, he should make of that woman his wife. Ingrid now being safely stewarded by Freddy to the house Lord Danvers found a moment to speak with his partner.
"So, how does my young Christian fare in his quest to woo my cousin?" The man laughed heartily, his belly shaking as a warm pudding.
"I should say quite well. Were it not for my upcoming trip to town I should propose following the wedding, but it shall have to wait until I can properly attend to the matter. I believe I owe you a great debt for all you have done to aid us. Your cousin is everything she promised to be and more beyond that." Lord Danvers laughed still more at this comment.
"Well my boy," he clapped the younger man on the back. "I wish you all the best."