"Oh, mercy." Helen Kingsleigh, clutching her hand to her bosom and clipping her mouth shut lest she gape at the man before her, can utter no other superlative to describe her first impression of Tarrant Hightopp, Milliner of the High Court of... well, of some country or another (just because she's never heard of it means little, as she is a woman, and women normally don't know such things, anyway. His title sounds important, anyhow, who is she to question it?).
Beside her, Margaret seems to be having a similar reaction, stepping closer to her husband, who wraps his arm around her shoulder defensively.
Lowell glances to Hamish, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. Feeling unjustly reprimanded by says look, Hamish puffs himself up a bit and steps up beside the hatter (despite his own misgivings, but a wounded pride often trumps such petty things as personal safety in courageous men, doesn't it? And while Hamish has never considered himself to be categorized within that particular group of men, as he is a noble and of some worth and tends to protect that worth even under threat of insult and/or shame, at this point he is beginning to think he has done many courageous things that morning concerning this rather frightening house guest, and is not going to let Lowell Manchester look down on him (the cad)! ...besides, the hatter has yet to actually hurt anyone, and so long as no one sets off another of his fits, Hamish is certain he is not in any danger just standing beside the man, which brings us back to the point). "Mr. Hightopp and I have just been enjoying tea together and discussing Alice, and I is hoping you'd join us."
Hamish is smiling his best host smile, and it seems to be having absolutely no effect on his company, much to his dismay.
Helen gathers herself first. "...Hamish, where is your mother?"
Hamish's smile slips slightly before hitching itself back up. "Well, the events of this morning seemed to have tuckered her out, I'm afraid, and she's taking a rest at the moment and won't be able to sit with us."
All three sets of wary eyes narrow at him in manner that says "Is that so?" as sarcastically as any derogatory tone could have conveyed. Hamish sniffs in annoyance. This is not at all going the way he wished.
Beside him, the Hatter is starting to bounce on his heels, apparently missing the entire atmosphere of the conversation and shaking with excitement. His large eyes dart back and forth between the three guests, all who flinch back under his gaze, but he gives their reactions no notice and continues to joyfully jerk his head around as if trying to look at all three individually at once. Really, the endeavor looks painful.
Deciding that trying to convince his guests is not going well and maybe trying a different track will be more fruitful, Hamish addresses the hatter this time. "Mr. Hightopp, I believe you says you'd met Alice as a child, but this is your first time meeting her family, correct?"
Not seeming to hear, the hatter continues his odd jerking head—bouncing heels motions to such an extent that they are starting to appear rather frightening.
"Mr. Hightopp?" Hamish repeats, not really expecting the odd guest to reply and just going on formality. "I asked a question, sir, if you will care to—"
"You're rather old, don't you think?" Mr. Hightopp interrupts suddenly, his head stopping abruptly to stare, rudely and with a rather cross face, at Mrs. Kingsleigh.
Everyone's eyes widen considerably, and this time Helen Kingsleigh's mouth does gape. "I... I beg your pardon?"
Smile brightening, the hatter continues as though he hasn't heard. "But you do look like her, oh yes, right spitting image if not for all the wrinkles."
While Mrs. Kinglseigh sputters unintelligibly for a moment, Mr. Hightopp turns his gaze to Margaret, who flinches back instantly.
"You're much better, lot less wrinkly." The hatter nods in approval, and then his smile suddenly drops right off his face. "But you don't look as much like her. Just enough to be annoying."
Margaret is looking rather hurt by his comment, and Lowell bristles. "Now, see here—"
Oh no, Hamish moans to himself, not at all willing to put himself between the crazy hatter and a defensive Lowell (which is something he is still getting used to, it being a rather recent development. He is almost certain Lowell had taken this strange turn in personality around the time of Alice's last visit, which doesn't surprise him at all, seeing as Alice has been rather terse to him for quite some time–since his blundered proposal, actually, now that he thinks about it, though it wasn't as if Alice has ever cared for the man before then. Ah, Lowell is getting louder, he should probably be paying attention) and thus rather worried as to how this is going to develop. He really hopes they won't destroy the entry hall. The living room is in bad enough shape without having yet another room to fix.
The hatter is still frowning, not seeming to mind in the slightest that Lowell is giving him a piece of his mind.
"I don't know you." Turning to Hamish, Mr. Hightopp nods towards a still speaking Lowell with a confused frown. "I don't know him."
"Ah, that will be Alice's brother—in—law, Lowell Manchester. Remember? I told you he is coming with his wife, Margaret." Hamish explains, once again forcing a smile and praying this meeting will somehow morph itself into something vaguely resembling proper, as he'd meant it to be.
Lowell has finally pulled his mouth shut, but he is glowering at the hatter, as though waiting for him to say something else to offend his wife. But Mr. Hightopp simply bounces on his heels, looking happy once again.
"Oh," he says simply, "lucky man, then, marrying into Alice's family. Good genes, much muchness."
Despite the fact that what he's just uttered makes little sense to Hamish, he is instantly aware that Mrs. Kingsleigh is no longer looking at the hatter with indignation. In fact, Hamish thinks that maybe she has taken what the hatter has just said as a compliment (he supposes the good genes part and Lowell being lucky to marry into Alice's family are both technically compliments, despite Mr. Hightopp's odd manners, and Mrs. Kingsleigh is very proud and very, very defensive of her late husband's family name. Then this is much better, Hamish thinks smugly, seeing this as—finally—a turn in the right direction).
"'Much muchness?'" Lowell repeats, looking confused and, as such, angry again. Lowell doesn't like being anything but in control, no matter how much he's changed in the last few months, and being confused about something is definitely not being in control of it. Of course, Hamish is getting the feeling that the hatter isn't someone that anyone could control, ever. ...except, maybe (hopefully), Alice.
"Of course!" The hatter replies jovially, grinning his gap-toothed smile at Lowell for the first time. "So much wonderful muchness must run in the family. Alice can't be the only one with it all, though she tends to misplace it sometimes, but she's always wonderful at finding it again at just the right moment, the rascal. Hamish here is just telling me earlier that Alice's father is just as muchy as she is, rest his soul, and I am very sorry I hadn't come earlier to meet him, such a shame. From the sound of it he would have loved Underland, but since he isn't around to visit it I suppose I'll make do with visiting his world instead, as it is also Alice's world, that much is obvious seeing as she left us to come back here. She loves you all very much, you know."
Pausing in his speech (which had very much resembled a normal speech, almost part of a conversation, with none of the usual signs of Mr. Hightopp's deranged fits despite Hamish prickling at his mention of Charles Kingsleigh. And Hamish is almost certain it had been a good, polite speech, with many compliments and brimming with sincerity, and once again Hamish feels that small twinge inside himself that not only his feelings for Alice, but any feeling he has at all, pale in comparison to a feeling felt by this supposed madman. That's it then, Hamish realizes, it's not that this man is off his rocker, it's just that any emotion he feels is more intense than what normal people feel, and thus his reactions more exaggerated. His pain greater, his anguish causing more suffering, his loneliness harder to endure, and his love...
His love for Alice...
But Hamish is getting ahead of himself again, thinking this man loves Alice) the hatter turnes to Helen and smiles what is almost a gentleman's smile, and if it wasn't for his pale complexion and wild hair and eyes, Hamish would have thought Mr. Hightopp a real Englishman.
It seems Helen feels the same.
"Thank you, Mr. Hightopp." She replies warmly, smiling a soft smile that Hamish hasn't ever seen Mrs. Kingsleigh use with anyone other than those she considers family (he'd seen her smile at his father like that, on occasion, and even he'd received that smile a few times, much more recently, but it is still a fleeting and rare thing) and he feels a bit of jealousy towards his mad guest for winning over Alice's mother so quickly. And, glancing sideways for confirmation (which he gets), for apparently winning over Margaret, too. But Mrs. Kingsleigh is speaking again. "I'm sure my husband will have just loved to make your acquaintance. You seem like the two of you will have gotten on well. I appreciate your kind words, Mr. Hightopp."
"Hatta, please," he replies, sweeping off his hat and giving it a spin before popping it back on. "Everyone calls me Hatta, I'd be delighted if you will, too."
"'Hatta?'" Margaret repeats, drawing everyone's eyes. "That name sounds familiar."
Tarrant Hightopp's eyes twinkles. "The Mad Hatter, in full."
Lowell and Hamish exchange glances at the odd nickname, but no one else seems to notice, as Helen is staring at her daughter with interest, and Margaret looks like she is thinking hard about something. Then she suddenly jumps. "Oh! That's right, the Mad Hatter! Alice talked about you as a child, I remember her mentioning you! From her dreams about Wonderland!"
"Underland, actually." The hatter looks absolutely thrilled that Margaret knows who he is, that Alice has talked about him to someone. "Always does get the name wrong, the silly boy."
"But I thought those were just Alice's fanciful dreams. They were so farfetched," Margaret continues, so shocked to be seeing one of Alice's imaginary companions in the reality of daylight that she completely overlooks Alice being referred to as male. Hamish is beginning to think that all children, in the hatter's eyes, are lads or boys and that he doesn't really understand gender differences until they are adults. The illogic of it wouldn't surprise Hamish, not from the hatter.
"Children are prone to exaggerate," Helen comments easily, still gazing at the hatter with her own kind of wonder. "How does you meet Alice, Mr. High— ah, Hatta?"
Grinning ear to ear and with his face shining brightly, the hatter looks ready to explode with joy. But before he can speak, Hamish decides it is finally time to insert some proper manners into this odd meeting. "Why don't we all go have a seat in father's study, and then Mr. Hightopp can tell us all about it, hm?"
"That sounds lovely," Helen replies, nodding.
"Why can't we use the living room?" Lowell interjects, looking rather annoyed at the turn of events. He obviously is not liking the hatter, and he is stubbornly going to cling to that feeling no matter what the man's story is or how much his wife is warming up to him.
Hamish feels his gentleman's smile twitch. "The living room is, ah, currently undergoing some slight remodeling. I'm afraid it can't be used right now. But father's study—"
Leading the way quickly up the stairs, Hamish ushers everyone past the living room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, no one tries to take a peek and he doesn't have to explain that the odd man from Alice's past has potentially dangerous anger issues, and they are going to be spending some time alone with him in the study. When Lowell finds out (and he will, Hamish reflects somberly) he's going to have my head.