The Librarian's Spell by Patricia Rice (reading eggs books TXT) 📕

manners a while longer. “If you’re truly prescient, then you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, it obviously has to do with women. I’ve jotted a note asking your son to join us here, so you need not see his mother.”

She may as well have been a fly on the wall and overheard his wishes. He’d forgotten that about her. Max tried not to shudder. A son did not want his mother to know everything he did.

“Richard will start the university in the fall,” she continued. “He ought to at least meet his father before you go your separate ways. But no, I do not know why you cannot stay with us.” She sounded just the tiniest bit disgruntled, rather like a child who has been denied a candy she already knew she could not have.

“Let us simply say that there is a reason I have sons and no wives and that it is best if I stay away from young ladies and leave it at that.” Astounded that he’d managed that declaration so easily, Max rewarded himself with a stack of scrambled eggs and fried new potatoes.

Lydia’s composure must be having an effect on him. Or having explained once, he felt more confident in speaking again—at least to a Malcolm who understood idiosyncrasies. His father’s family would roll on the floor in hysteria.

“You would be faithful to Lydia,” Lady Agnes asserted with certainty.

Max felt that blow to the gut. He didn’t know that now, did he? The thought of hurting honest, plain-spoken Lydia with unfaithfulness. . . He simply couldn’t consider it.

“Once you’re married, you’ll settle down,” his mother continued, oblivious to his reaction despite her so-called prescience. “It’s obvious Calder Castle needs your talents. I’m sure there are a great many projects in this country you can take on without traipsing all over the planet. Now have a look at these lists and tell me which guests you want and which you don’t.”

Max sighed and pushed the bundles away. “I cannot read those, Mother.” Look at him, maturely confronting his flaws and presenting them as if they were nothing! He deserved an extra bit of toast for that admission.

“Of course you can read!” She glared at him. “We sent you to a very good school. You just never liked paperwork and preferred working with your hands.”

No arguing that. “Did Lydia tell you if she’d like to see her family? Perhaps a small gathering to celebrate her new status as librarian?”

He assumed that was her new status. He hadn’t even asked how her meeting had gone. More proof that he wasn’t fit for civilized company.

“That’s this stack.” His mother patted one tied in pink ribbon. “Lydia’s family is old and dates back to Wystan and Lady Ninian’s medieval ancestors. She is destined to be librarian. Mine descends from a different branch. But it will be quite exciting for us all to come together.”

Max thought this particular fantasy had to do with tying him to one place, and he understood his mother’s need. She’d been living in fear these past years not just because his uncle was the devil, but because Max had abandoned her. So she was waving magic wands and grasping at straws. There wasn’t a lot he could do to alleviate her fears. Life was uncertain.

“It would be good to meet Richard. Does this mean you are staying here?” he asked, adding jam to his toast. He hadn’t seen either of his other two sons since their infancy.

She stuck out her bottom lip in a frown. “I suppose I must, if you will not go to the city. I daresay Azmin and Phoebe can help run the school for a few weeks. Their university classes won’t start again until fall so they have a little spare time, although Azmin and Dare may wish to visit Norfolk before the nice weather ends, just to be certain his niece is completely cured. They will understand when they realize how important this is.”

She studied her stack of lists. “Do you really mean you can’t read these or that you won’t?”

“I’m sure my teachers told you I can’t read. Lydia says it’s an Ives family trait that springs up from time to time. I’m not trying to be difficult, although that’s what my teachers thought. It hasn’t stopped me from learning. As you so wisely pointed out, I work well with my hands. I learn from listening.” Max felt a little freer having said this.

Not wishing to disappoint his parents and hiding his failures had been one of the many reasons Max had left these shores. Now that he was a successful man—if a truly lousy son and father—he had the experience to admit to his imperfections. He helped himself to more toast.

“Well, I never. . .” His mother tapped her finger on her lists. “So you never wrote me because you couldn’t!” She brightened perceptibly. “All the more reason you should stay home now.” Then a cloud covered her expressive features again. “You have more sons besides Richard?”

Max almost chuckled. His mother’s mind was a twisty place. “Three all together,” he said before biting into his toast. It should be interesting to see how that went over.

“Three,” she murmured. “I have three grandsons! I don’t think I know anyone who has three. This is quite exciting. When might I meet them?”

Feeling almost giddy with relief that she wasn’t beating him over the head with a platter, Max nodded at the door. “Besides Richard, one is upstairs. The other. . . well, you can add him and his mother to your guest list, but I’ll not attend any party with women, and it would take them months to travel here, so Christmas it would have to be.”

Finally glaring at him, she rose from her chair. “I think I’ll find Lydia. She’s much more reasonable. And I want to meet my grandson, immediately.”

Carrying her short self like the grand dame she should be, Lady Agnes stalked out, leaving Max to muse over the managing madness of women as he chewed his