Spencer exchanged a knowing glance with his wife and she sprung from her seat to move towards Victoria. The two women sat on the sofa, the elder holding her daughter in laws hands in hers as if she was soothing an upset child. Victoria scowled at them nonetheless.
"Perhaps I shall join you Rawdon?" Spencer suggested rising to his feet as if he would come to join them. Rawdon shook his head though, "I will speak to my daughter and Mr. O'Dwyer. If we come to a point of there being additional discussion required we'll either send up for you or schedule something on a day when everyone is rested and prepared."
Spencer nodded, he clearly felt like he was abnormally on his back foot, "Very well, we've all had rather more excitement than is good for us. Indeed a casual conversation with Mr. O'Dwyer and Farren may be best at this point."
Rawdon nodded and motioned for the couple to follow him, "This way then, you two."
Farren stared back at her mother for a moment. Her grandmother was rubbing the top of her hand as if she'd just been through some kind of jarring tragedy. It took a great deal of self control to not roll her eyes. She reached out, taking Declan's hand in hers again. "Good evening then," she said to the three remaining behind and followed her father from the room.
"I'm sorry about that Mr. O'Dwyer," Rawdon said as the door shut behind them and they found themselves in the hall. Rawdon was tall, almost imposingly so, his hair dark like Farren's but peppered with grey. He kept a short, stylish beard that didn't really suit a man of his social standing but gave him a rather rugged appearance. He spoke with a deep but quiet voice in a manner that suggested he considered his words and thoughts slowly before speaking.
"My study is downstairs, it should provide a more intimate setting for these sensitive matters," he said as he led them down the hallway.
Of course Farren knew why they were going there. It was the one place in the world she was certain her father felt truly comfortable and at the moment he was playing a role he was very much uncomfortable with. Rawdon was never the peace keeper - he was always Switzerland. All her life he'd sat back and watched her mother lash out at her. He'd made weak efforts to stop her at best. For some reason though he had taken it upon himself tonight to try at least to be the only truly civil one amongst them. Perhaps he too had met his limit?
Flames in sconces flickered on around them lighting the way and flickering back out as they moved down the hall, leaving the path they'd trodden in darkness again. Rawdon stopped near the end of the hall and gently placed his hand against a floral tapestry, the tapestry instantly dissolving a doorway in its place. Through it they went into a narrow, dark, stone stairway that could best be likened to the type you found spiraling up and down towers of medieval castles. Flames flickered to life in sconces over their heads as the moved down into the center of the house.
They traveled down two flights of steps. Before they reached the bottom Farren leaned forward from behind Declan and tugging gently on a strand of his hair as a sign of playful affection she called to him, "Prepare yourself for something quite shocking."
In front of them Rawdon scoffed, "You haven't warned him? I suppose not. I suppose you'd expect to give him a proper tour someday wouldn't you?" As he spoke he pushed at the wall at the bottom of the stairs, another hidden doorway, that led them into the family's primary library.
Before them was a library the length of the house, with massive vaulted ceilings reaching two floors high with paintings across the ceilings and beautiful dark wood and gilding throughout. The books were stacked two floors high, floor to ceiling, ladders and narrow staircases leading to the books on the higher shelves. It was like something from a palace or the grandest, oldest university - endless seeming and awe inspiring.
"The largest private magical library in Europe," Rawdon said, "We've been publishing for over 700 years and collecting for longer. Suppose we have one of nearly everything ever written by a wizard in western Europe," Rawdon spoke so casually about it as if he wasn't really bothered at all by walking through a treasure trove of history and magic the likes of which most would never see. "There's a historian. Literature historian that works for the company. They're here during the day. You'll have to come when she's here so she can do everything justice - if you'd like," Rawdon said as they moved down the center of the room. "There," he paused, pointing at a gold pedestal holding a dingy brown book surrounded by glass, "Farren's great great great grandfather nearly died getting that book. Merlin's notebook. Full of spells and ideas. Quite fascinating even if half of it is utter gibberish."
"I think he might like the Rowena Ravenclaw selection. A collection of her academic writings but also a large chunk of her personal correspondence." Farren said, taking his hand in hers again and glancing at him with a knowing smile. She was quite sure he would like nothing more than to spend hours here. Though she supposed, like some, he might come to think one family in the possession of such a treasure was unfavorable but that was a fight for another time.
Rawdon took a sharp right turn and led them to a small doorway and into his office. It was considerably less grand than the library it was connected to. Though the ceiling was high it retained the original stone of the basement they were in. One wall held what appeared to be a lengthy laboratory table, tidy but hosting a collection of empty sterile tubes, bottles and cauldrons waiting for use. The opposite wall housed expansive shelves holding a number of odd things. Hundreds of potion and ingredient vials, books, notebooks, and jars full of small creatures and internal bits suspended in liquid.
It occured to Farren that Declan might think he'd landed in the maddest place in England but if he was going to marry her he'd learn sooner rather than later. Perhaps she should have planned this much more and mentioned the massive library and her father's penchant for biology and blood magic but it was too late now. Her father gestured towards the brocade sofa in front of the fireplace and she led Declan to it. Her father turned to one of the shelves which housed a liquor collection alongside potions and returned to them with a bottle of fine whisky and three glasses which he sat on the table before them as he took a seat in the adjacent leather arm chair.
Sighing heavily he waved his hand lazily at the bottle and glasses, the bottle uncorking itself and dolling out three servings as Rawdon spoke, "Mr. O'Dwyer, I apologize for....everyone's upset. We are quite unused to surprises like this and I'm sure Farren has appraised you to some degree about the present situation." His blue grey eyes darted to Farren, "Quite a sensitive situation."
"Father, you must make them see reason," Farren started reaching forward to take her glass, "Declan and I have been friends for years, we reconnected over the last several months. This makes the most sense and it's genuine. We both are sure about this. I know they don't care and think marriage is a political arrangement only but the O'Dwyers are as strong an alliance as the Malfoys from that perspective. We could be great. With our combined resources and talents we could be great and we care for eachother, very much. Isn't that the best possible case?"
Rawdon nodded, taking his glass and leaning back in his armchair.
"I was so worried about my mother and grandmother's reaction I suggested we elope and just tell you all after it was done and legal. They'd have less opportunity to ruin it if it was already legal. A bigger scandal for it to turn into a fight than if they just accepted it and we held a big public wedding as if it was all according to everyone's plan - but that's not fair. Declan is wonderful. Truly, I think you will truly adore him as I do once you get to know him."
Rawdon nodded slowly in agreement. Seemingly deep in thought he drummed his fingers on his glass for a moment. "I understand your view Farren," he said softly, "However I also understand everyone else's. Before I take any kind of stance for either side, Mr. O'Dwyer needs to fully understand the situation. It's improper and forward but I assume it will help him in the long run. If you do pull this off, he's going to need to know the whole truth, where everyone is coming from, if he's going to be accepted."
He looked to Declan as he sat his glass down on the table between them leaned forward slightly to address him. "Farren is my only child, you of course know this. I am my father's only child. My father is his father's only child. It is no secret that the family has had a steep progeny decline over the last three generations. Four, five generations ago, we had a great many Abercrombies. My grandfather had three siblings and many cousins. Politics created a terrible rift in the family. Much of the family was dis-inherited, removed from the accepted line of succession. My grandfather was left holding the keys. Since then the recognized line of succession has been withering from the vine. It is not from a lack of trying. When my father was the only child of his family it was assumed to be a fluke. Marital discord even. In those days, it was unfathomable to acknowledge any children outside a marriage. I don't know if there were any, but whatever the case, my father was it. I was born very soon after my parents wed. It was assumed more would come in quick succession and they did, but each of my three siblings departed the world before we could know them. When I married Farren's mother it was quite intentional. Of course she was talented and powerful and beautiful but she was also half French- a bloodline the Abercrombie family tree was not yet related to in any regard. We assumed this could help remedy our unspeakable issues. Everyone knows that all the families in England, we're all related to varying degrees at this point. So I assumed, as did we all, that Victoria and I would have no issues. Victoria entered the union well aware of the circumstances. Her family is quite large, so her mother was sure she'd be up to the task. Victoria's politics around blood have always been quite serious, so she was happy to be the supposed savior of a great family line. The problem persisted though. Farren is here, thank Salazar, but by mere chance I believe. She was the last attempt. Five siblings of Farren's should have preceded her but they did not live to draw their own breath. So here she is, carrying everyone's hopes and burdens. A great family line on the back of one girl. The sense of loss and failure has plagued Victoria and I suspect my mother throughout. They too have had to bear an unfair burden in all of this. Both of them, my wife, my mother, have very serious views about purebloodism, expanding the families, maintaining balance of power among wizards, all of that. Victoria has hardly been diplomatic in managing Farren's personal affairs then. She views it less as a family matter and one of historic significance. Clive Rosier was selected very purposefully. The Rosiers, like Victoria, are part French. Very few of our lines had crossed thus far. Clive was strapping, a fine specimen of a lad, there was reasonable certainty in his ability to produce offspring."
Rawdon paused looking to Farren. It was crass to suggest that the family had courted a man who had sired a child out of wedlock for their daughter. It would be even more crass to bring up the failure to carry within the marriage they had set his daughter up in. Rawdon knew everything but he was unaware what she may have told Declan, perhaps nothing at all. This was certainly scary information for any young man who would want his own heirs. He could hardly remember the last time he'd talked about this so much and despite his stoic personality and rather unfeeling demeanor he found so much talk of dead babies unsettling even to him.
"Clearly, that never came to pass with his passing so early," Rawdon continued diplomatically, "Perhaps, even if you do not share their sense of importance on blood and family lines - perhaps you can start to see the grave concern over whom Farren is with and that she marry again sooner than later. At this point it's a matter of survival in everyone's eyes. If she does not produce a child this house, our business, all our holdings and things will pass to a Scotsman we have never met, tracing the family tree back to that point which it was severed at. Perhaps a legal case could be made to put it in Pyxis' hands or his father's but for reasons too boring and complicated to bother with - that is not particularly feasible."
Rawdon paused, downing the rest of his whisky,
"Then you add in the politics of it all. My parents and my wife are very wrapped up in the blood purity movement. Perhaps to some, given our circumstances, it seems counterintuitive, but look at what has been sacrificed for it already and you can see their logic and passionate reasoning. My mother and wife are extremely dedicated to the pureblood cause being headed by Lord Voldemort. My mother and father carried a wand for Grindlewald as well. The social circle has become quite tight as families pick sides or not. Victoria and my mother will not accept a man who doesn't share their blood values. So here we've been, watching Farren live her life in London, time slipping through her fingers. Of course as her father I want her to be happy but for many reasons you now understand her definition of happiness over these last years has been the antithesis of peace in the rest of the family. Perhaps, had we known about your reconnection as you've called it, my mother never would have reached out to Ambrose Malfoy. Who knows, but what came to pass did. We have not married a direct Malfoy in many generations. Not since the 1600s, so they were the first choice of family from within our circle. Ambrose is a widower. He has two children already so his ability to father children is certain. He doesn't care if he has more children or not. He has an heir and a spare. Farren is young, beautiful and well connected, rich. Why wouldn't he want her? It is of little consequence to him what happens to the children from his second marriage. He was happy to allow Farren's children from their union to sit at the head of this family as the line of succession. So from my parent's standpoint - this was an obvious and certain victory and solution to our problem. I understand, to Farren, it is a violation that they would approach this prior to consulting her. However, look at the circumstances, past and future. Perhaps you would disagree still but I cannot blame my wife and mother for it."
He sighed heavily and pressed his fingers to his temples. The situation was intense for everyone and even though he tried to stay out of the fray he watched it eat away at the happiness of the women of his life on a daily basis. "I'm sure she's told you some of this. I'm sure she's told you, she needs multiple children if possible, a son hopefully, to carry on the family name. It is a lot to ask of someone like yourself. You will want your own heirs first. So automatically Farren will need to have no less than three, four children. The bounty we would pay a man to give her a son to bear our name is immeasurable. However, so is the value of children to a father. I want Farren to be happy, of course I do, we all do, but there are so many factors at play for her mother and grandmother and even my father, it's impossible to stay out of it. It's a messy business all of it. If you do marry it's well and good you'll move to Ireland to remove yourself from it all to some extent. I can tell you not to elope. I can tell you to stay here and do things the proper way. I can tell you it doesn't matter to me if you two marry. But it's going to be a challenge, at least with the Mrs. Abercrombies. My father is a businessman. He will come around but the women. They will pressure you to join their cause. They will pressure Farren to have as many children as quickly as possible. They will probably be angry about their scheme being foiled until babies are produced. Perhaps until the graduate Hogwarts."
Farren finished off her own whisky and sat the glass down on the table. "I can assure you, my father has hardly spoken such things to another soul. I'm not sure I've heard him say this many words to someone else outside the family," she offered a weak smile trying to lighten the mood ever so slightly. It was a rather harrowing tale to have laid out so definitely but in some way she was glad he had. Declan could hear her side of things and make all the assumptions he wanted about how horrible her mother was but perhaps knowing the whole story would be helpful.
"If you still want to be a part of this. To marry her, I can assure you she is a devoted little thing. She has managed all these years to still tolerate us lot. You're aware she's wildly talented, the finest musical and magical education the world can provide. Well versed in all the things young ladies are supposed to be well versed in. Mr. Rosier never had any complaints about her ability to run a household and manage their social affairs either. Obviously she comes with a sizable dowry if you want it. She'll also have the other estate house here in Cumbria, Hutton that comes with her. If you're concerned about such things." Rawdon waved his had dismissively as if promising someone a 400 year old estate and a vault full of gold was a typical Tuesday evening.
"So what do you think Mr. O'Dwyer?" Rawdon leaned forward and poured himself another glass of whisky.