Alyssa was secretly proud of her daughter’s ability to turn a phrase. She had inherited that from her. However, she did not take kindly to being spoken to, or, rather, shouted at, by anyone, let alone her own daughter. Still, the elderly woman stayed soft-spoken, although she was running out of points to make.
”Oh, Elinor, I’ll never be sorry you came here. Mr. Garrettson, on the other hand…”
He turned his attention on Nigel and nodded once. ”I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Garrettson. And I shall keep that piece of advice in mind, I assure you…”
He could faintly hear his daughter’s voice, raised, of course, and somehow could not help from smiling. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was nice to know he didn’t raise a pushover. But when he couldn’t hear his wife’s tones, he figured she must have been keeping her own voice down in an attempt to only infuriate Elinor further (as Alyssa seemed to not know when to be silent). Charles drew a sigh and gestured to the door.
”Well… I can refill your glass, or you can go rescue my daughter, or maybe her mother, as the case may be,” he laughed quietly at his own joke. He, himself, wasn’t concerned either way. He knew none of them could be physically violent, and was perfectly content with letting them fight it out. But he figured his daughter would eventually run out of steam, and whatever they were fighting over, he knew himself to be on Elinor’s side.
”Either way, I apologize for my tendancy to ramble. You’ve been most welcome company, Nigel, and I welcome you again anytime.” That’s right. He welcomed him. His wife would have no say—the young man was welcome as long as the house was his. He only hoped that Alyssa’s attitude wouldn’t prove to be a major problem for anyone. That, of course, was hoping for a lot. |