Even so, we had not, as yet (and I was concerned about what this might mean), been cut off from Dad’s funds.
That said, it didn’t matter anymore.
Mom told me later, when we were alone, that the withdrawal she made, “Ansley assures me is enough for us to buy our own townhome, staff it, and for me to live the life befitting the lady I am, doing this until I die. This as well as take care of Maxine until she goes. Though, he also assured me I shouldn’t bother myself with that worry, as you and Loren would be around to do it.”
In other words, we were set to carry on in this world for, apparently, ever, which was a load off my mind.
Because not only did witches not put out shingles, we’d discovered, after the whole Minerva-she-god-plague-on-the-land situation, practicing witchcraft wasn’t verboten, but people were twitchy about it.
I mean, Idina nearly went into vapors when I casually tried to discuss how to find a witch.
I couldn’t click my slipper heels together and ask to go home.
So, although Mom and I hadn’t officially discussed it, it looked like we were there for the long haul.
Honestly?
I didn’t really mind.
We’d had a couple of sit downs with her doctor to understand what Maxine needed and had hired a nurse who was a groovy chick, but we didn’t much need her because Maxine was settled and content. And Mom and I made sure one of us was around at all times so she had stability, and although Maxie and I weren’t giggling together, she’d definitely grown used to me (as demonstrated with how we were now).
Then there was the fact Mom was getting off on being Lady Corliss.
Also, the staff were in raptures at our “family” and they whistled while they worked (I am not kidding, though some hummed and others sang).
The curtains had been thrown open (literally and figuratively, Dad-not-Dad liked it dark) on the house. A ton of knickknacks and bric-a-brac (no matter how expensive, it was ostentatious and oppressive) had been cleared away. Mom had purchased some warm throws (autumn was around the corner) and bright toss pillows (Mom was doing a lot of shopping, then again, she’d never been loaded, neither had I, so there you go). She’d also moved around some furniture and had other pieces carted off to be reupholstered or auctioned because she didn’t want them anymore. She’d even had two rooms repainted in lighter, brighter colors.
The place had totally been changed from dark, stifling evil den where the villain lurked to bright haven where the fairy princesses lived.
It rocked.
For my part, I hadn’t seen Loren since we had dinner together (all of us, not just him and me alone), the night after it all went down at the constabulary.
We’d had a mini-makeout session prior to him leaving for the evening, and then he informed me he had “business to attend” and he’d be back in “no later than a fortnight.”
Now, I was in a quandary.
Because I was thinking we were stuck there.
I was also thinking Mom was hunky dory with that because being a countess and rich as shit far from sucked, but also she adored Maxine.
As an aside, we’d managed to dodge the deluge of former friends and acquaintances sending letters or calling at the door in order to check out the Countess Come Alive, because she had the excellent excuse of sharing she was “finding her feet back home” and would “reenter society” during her beloved daughter, Satrine’s wedding to the Marquess of Remington.
To do this, she had a new secretary, a widowed woman named Palma who worked part time while her adorable toddler daughter toddled around the study, and she wrote letters explaining this to everyone, and declining dozens upon dozens of invitations.
For now.
Yes.
As ever, we were taking each challenge as it came.
Maxine was, according to the doctors, blossoming under the care of her family.
We were set, money-wise.
I dug Loren a whole lot (though, I’d like to have the opportunity to get to know him better).
And due to his absence, the wedding had been put off for two months, so there was more time to do it up right, but also for me to find a way out, which didn’t seem to be forthcoming.
But in the end, if we stayed, and I got hitched to my hot guy, our marriage would be based on a total lie.
He didn’t even call me by my real name.
Obviously, I realized my mind had wandered from my book as I felt Maxine wander from the window.
She sat beside me, not close (we were getting there, but I figured the fact we looked alike freaked her).
She shuffled through the pictures, pulled one out and showed it to me.
Her pretty eyes (and our eyes were the same, but hers were still prettier) came to mine and she said quietly, “I think this one, Sattie.”