Chapter 27

  The Croft estate in the capitol had been turned into a bazaar.

  The perpetrator of such disruption was a force of nature and couldn’t be stopped. It was none other than Eleanor Croft.

  Gwen had been swept up in her mother’s frenzy and knew better than to try and corral her mother when she was so far gone.

  Things were strewn about everywhere. Dresses, jewelry, shoes, hats, accessories, half empty trunks and trunks toppled over spilling forth their bounty. No cupboard and drawer had been spared, raided and relieved of their possessions to put on display in the open.

  The servants and maids were in a state. They couldn’t do anything in front of Lady Croft who was in her element and did not take kindly to any suggestions to that had her things being stored. Even the floors had been used to peddle dresses that were spread across like rugs when the manakins and furniture hadn’t been enough.

  In just few days, the Crofts would be travelling to Roheim to meet their future in-laws. There was still a month left to Hektor’s ennobling, but the Crofts had to show face and play their part as the family of the bride.

  Which had prompted Eleanor to go berserk in making preparations and packing.

  Hiding from her mother, Gwen observed the pandemonium from her corner of solitude as maids rushed door to door with piles of clothes and the male servants hauled cases of luggage large and small. It all resembled an ant farm.

  Gwen shook her head with a fond exasperation for her mother. Eleanor had always been a hoarder with little to no restraint on her compulsion. She was an infamous spendthrift, known far and wide for her lavish spending.

  It could be anything that caught her fancy; fashion, jewelry, furniture, artworks, knick-knacks, anything she liked, she would have to have it. The one thing that limited her damage was that she was a ferocious haggler and rarely got taken advantage of in her dealings.

  As Gwen saw her house turn into something resembling a shipping port, she observed the goods being ferried about and grimaced. Her mother’s tastes…. could have used been more refined, to put it lightly. Eleanor Croft was a magpie for anything ostentatious and shiny. Subtle and moderation were not Eleanor’s favorite words.

  Every finger had to have a ring. No less than two necklaces would grace her neck. Earrings, bangles and bracelets were a must. She couldn’t go without makeup. Hair dyed and adorned it with ornaments. Voluminous dresses with eye popping designs and some form of glitter was mandatory.

  The Lady Croft faced a fair share of ridicule at her overexuberance, but that didn’t deter Eleanor. In fact, it only spurred her on. Oddly enough, she had become quite the celebrity as a fashionista and a role model for daring and unconventional trendsetters.

  For the life of them, both Samuel and Gwen couldn’t figure out how Eleanor had managed to make being rich and a shopaholic be fashionable.

  Samuel Croft entered the hall, took one look at the flurry of activity and froze. He was just about to run back, but spotted Gwen in her small corner, looking to him with a helpless smile.

  Samuel chuckled, sharing his daughter’s amusement as he sat beside her, giving her a shoulder hug.

  “Momma has gone mad,” Gwen spoke to her father.

  Samuel nodded along, feigning severity. “Yes. Gone off the deep end this time. Does she plan to pack up the entire house?”

  “She has been like this for days,” Gwen shared. “Even three train carriages wouldn’t be enough at this rate.”

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  Samuel sighed. “Let her have her fun. You know how she gets. And it is your engagement after all. Let her have this,” he spoke.

  Gwen scoffed. “There is no stopping her. I am not getting involved in this,” she waved at the bustling bazaar of a mess unfolding before her eyes.

  “That would be best,” Samuel admitted with an endearing smile.

  Samuel Croft was very much Eleanor’s counterpart. While they both shared a love for wealth and luxury, Samuel was all for getting the best deal and being shrewd. He would much rather invest than spend his fortune.

  He was a workaholic with a very hands-on involvement in the running of his business. Fiercely driven to have his enterprise dominate and flourish, he had few other interests beyond work and lived exuberantly through his wife and daughter.

  “How are you holding up, dear?” he inquired. It had only been a few days since Gwen’s visit to the alchemist guild and that always took its toll on her.

  “I have recovered, but momma insists on taking a break. Honestly, it is more tiring to go shopping with her than cultivating in the gathering array.”

  “That’s harsh,” Samuel chided with a smile. “Indulge her this once. For me?”

  Gwen groaned. “Papa, she doesn’t need indulging! She is perfectly capable of it herself. She actually prefers her friends over us holding her back.”

  Samuel smiled.

  “You should have seen them, papa. They were worse than a pack of hunting dogs,” Gwen shivered remembering her mother’s shopping sprees of the past few days.

  Samuel barked a laugh at that. “Rest easy. Your mother will have the house set in Faymoren without us lifting a finger.”

  “That’s not the most reassuring and you know it!” Gwen pouted. She knew well enough what others thought of her mother’s gaudy tastes.

  “Say what you will, your mother is irresistible,” Samuel commented. “She always gets her way. Why fight it?”

  Gwen grinned. “Do you truly want to let her loose?”

  Samuel envisaged it for a moment and couldn’t help but shiver. “Three Graces, help us,” he intoned.

  Leaning against a strut with a newspaper spread in front of him, Gideon kept watch. The railway station was always a of flurry of activity, noise, people and smoke. With a train at the station ready to depart in half an hour, the place was all the more crowded and louder.

  Under the guise of reading his paper, Gideon kept his head on swivel and kept an eye out for any threats. Just a few paces from him was his charge whom he was duty bound to protect.

  Gideon had to admit that the boy was a natural at blending in.

  Dressed as a commoner, nobody would have recognized Hektor even without his flat cap. Gideon had no doubt that the boy could walk into any pub or inn and no one would be the wiser that he was the Duchess’ son.

  Gideon had his reservations regarding the man known as Nazeer Haskeem, but he had to acknowledge that the man knew his stuff. While Gideon didn’t agree with Nazeer’s involvement with the young lord, Gideon had to admit that Nazeer had done a good job teaching Hektor how to hide.

  As to the reason for Gideon to be incognito at the station, it was because Hektor had come to send off his friend.

  Jamie was a bundle of energy and couldn’t stop smiling. “I have never been outside the Duchy, much less on a train and travelling first class!” he gushed.

  Hektor was genuinely happy for his friend and more than a little relieved that Jamie was still up for it.

  “I am sad that I will miss your birthday,” Jamie nudged Hektor playfully.

  “Trust me, I would just as happily miss it,” Hektor complained in good humor.

  The horn for the twenty minute warning sounded off, making everyone jump and then hurry about with increased urgency. Some started boarding the train while many replayed their goodbyes.

  “You take care of yourself, Hektor,” Jamie mimicked the people around him in their farewells and spoke awkwardly in brotherly concern.

  Hektor matched his clumsiness. “You too.”

  “Chin up, Hektor. I know it’s impossible, but don’t miss me too much,” Jamie joked.

  Hektor smiled. “How could I not?”

  “Seriously though, we will meet soon enough.”

  “I know, I know,” Hektor whined.

  “I should go, see to the Wicks,” Jamie reasoned, glancing around. “They might need help with something.”

  Hektor nodded along. At Jamie’s request, he had asked the Wicks to take Jamie along to Roheim. The Wicks were more than happy to accommodate Hektor’s request and had promised to help Jamie settle in.

  The boys grasped forearms and hugged briefly.

  “Well,” muttered Jamie gruffly.

  “Good travels, Jamie,” bid Hektor.

  Both Hektor and Jamie were the epitome of masculinity in being awful at farewells.

  “And good fortune to you, brother,” said Jamie before quickly walking away, leaving Hektor stunned by the term of endearment.

  A low voice drew him out his shock.

  “We should leave before the rush,” Gideon insisted.

  Hektor could only nod dazedly and walk away from the platform.