"Maybe we should make some kind of pact that you will never put the information you learn about me into the family blackmail book to use against my family and in turn I won't write a book about the O'Dwyers," she smiled and braved another sip of her drink which oddly had an entirely different, more pleasant favor, a bit fruity but refreshing. "Oh my, I think Fanby has tried something from the magical cocktails book the butler brought home. It's different on second taste, better at least." Pursing her lips she looked down at the glass before laughing. "I'm sorry, I told him to surprise us because I didn't have time to plan out the menu myself and it may have gone too far. Let's hope the tapas aren't adventurous."
Somehow she felt relieved when he asked her longer term wants and desires. It hadn't really been on her mind until she mentioned her grandmother. It was highly likely Declan could do whatever he wanted with whomever. At the pub he had said he was interested in a relationship, even a messy one, if she was. But what did that mean to him? She wasn't ready to ask such pointed questions but being given the OK to talk about what she wanted, without any implied investment from herself in whatever he wanted from her, was a relief. If she were to ask this or bring it up directly he might thing her too forward or needy or to have taken his limited interest too seriously. It would be embarassing to go there without certainty.
"I don't really care about publishing to be honest. At least not the nuts and bolts of it. What paper we buy, the type of ink formulated for the presses," she shook her head, "I couldn't care less about that stuff. The selling aspect as well, deals with sellers all over Europe, contracts with schools to use our texts, keeping writers on book tours - no thank you. All of that has been out of our hands for ages anyways. The company is too huge. Grandfather is really just like an executive in any other industry. I'm sure they will make me learn some of the nuts and bolts for the sake of appearances and tradition but no. I don't want to head a massive corporation. My primary interest in it is the power of the information we print. We hold something like 70% of the non-fiction book market in the UK, about 40% of the fiction market, we own half the news papers on the continent, more and more of the book share as well....that's quite a lot of influence. I care about that much more than the accounting."
"And yes, of course I'd like to be married again. To the right person, at the right time. And yes, I'd like to be a mother. I don't think it's much of a secret that the Abercrombies are nearly extinct. My mother went to extreme personal lengths to try and have more children but in the process made her health rather complicated to have the children she so badly wanted to give the family. I suppose one day I'll want for rather a lot of children. I don't know when it will happen or how," her cheeks flushed pink, oh dear, what a silly slip of the tongue, "I mean....of course I know how....forgive me, I mean circumstance of how not...literally how.," she smiled nervously taking a quick panicked sip of her drink. The toe of her pointed shoe was tapping rapidly, anxiously against the floor as she nervously tapped her toes. How mortifying to make a suggestion like that when they were still so early in repairing their relationship.
"I rather like children," she smiled tensly before exhaling heavily and taking another sip of her drink, "Most people are surprised by that but once they are out of nappies and toddling around they can be quite sweet. Rather funny too. I just want....to be happy and have a happy littler family." She leaned forward to set her drink on the coffee table in front of them. Sighing she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "I suppose it's a lot to ask for but the reason I've been dragging my feet is that there was never anyone I could imagine it with. You know? All the polished penguins bowing and scraping into Dalemain. Eating out of Grandmother's hand to impress them. I just don't want to live through that again. You probably know, maybe it's in your family's book, Clive and I were rather miserable."
She glanced at him for a moment hesitant to go on but the cat had been tipped out of the bag she supposed. "On paper it was perfect wasn't it?" she looked up at him with a weak smile. "I was beautiful and young, he was beautiful and young. He was a prodigy, I was a prodigy. A Rosier and an Abercrombie. The headline grabbing socialite darling and the international quidditch sensation. If was supposed to be a fairy tale."
"Clive was a nice enough man but we were a bad match. In reality we had nothing in common. Literally nothing to talk about over breakfast unless The Prophet was on the breakfast tray. At first I thought it was just because we spent so little time together before the wedding and were just getting used to it. The families decided I had to stop playing. We'd never have babies if he and I were both traveling Europe constantly. So I was just stuck here, waiting for him to come home, while he was out there.....games, practice, international games far away, media events, sponsorship events. They all expected me to just sit here, waiting, ready for whenever he was ready for me. When he was here there was nothing to talk about because I don't care about quidditch and he didn't care what I did as long as it wasn't embarrassing him. I am sure that once we'd had kids we would have moved to opposite ends of the house and eventually separate houses and spent our golden years thousands of miles apart except for the sake of appearances and expectations."
It was as nice as she could put it. If he eventually did want a relationship with her she knew he had the resources to find out more. It seemed better to be honest from the go even if it was bleak. "I can't bear to think of doing it like that again. It boggles my mind how they think I should do it their way again when the first time was an utter disaster. I suppose in their eyes since it never became a scandal and there were......chances of heirs, well that's all they really care about." Scoffing she shook her head, "What is a lifetime of boredom and unhappiness when money, glamour, power, and heirs are on the line?" Smiling a little she chuckled, "I did promise Grandfather I'd review his stud books if I made it 35 without a beau of my own choosing. That seems at least logically reasonable even if rather gross and depressing."