Thread: Mills and Mafia (LuanaXVictorian)

Maeve canted her head at him when he agreed, under the condition she cook him pasta. She had no idea how to cook anything. He took her hand to lead her out. Her face flared and she pulled her hand back like she had touched a hot brand. Oh, alright. Well we do have wine and I'm sure Liam knows how to make pasta. She followed him out of the mill, the men had already left for home. He walked right up to a new Model T. Somehow she wasn't even surprised. Of course some goon of the infamous mafia would have a nice, new car. The drive wasn't unpleasant. He certainly asked a lot of questions. She spoke of her upbringing, the finishing school she attended and the hunt club she and her father belonged to. Talk of the hunt club moved to speaking of the horses her family owned. She spoke affectionately of her geldin, Chulainn, named for the great hero of Irish myth. Speaking of easy things made her feel light. She couldn't forget the loss but having a distraction was nice. When they arrived at the family estate she noticed Donal, the courier, give Jimmy an odd look. The distaste in his countenance disappeared when Maeve stepped out of the car and he saw the blood. Lass! Yer dress! Maeve held up a hand. I know Donal. I need to speak with ma then I will inform the staff. Donal stared for a moment then nodded. Thank you Donal. She headed up the stairs to their door and found it opened by an elderly gentleman. His hair was once fire but now was mostly snow. Liam, could you please see Jimmy to the parlor? And I need the staff gathered in the kitchen to speak with them. All of them. Liam stared for a moment before curtly nodding. Thank you Liam, she said before heading into the house. Liam looked to Jimmy, his snowy brows quirked up. This was sir, he said stiffly and led Jimmy into the house. Still on the main level he led Jimmy to a large room filled with hunting trophies, stuffed kills from everywhere including a tiger pelt for a rug. Please make yourself comfortable, I am sure the miss will be by when she is ready. He opened a crystal decanter of whiskey and poured angles for Jimmy. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion but stayed silent until he left Jimmy alone. And left alone he was. More than an hour went by before the door opened. Instead of Maeve it was Liam again. The miss has finished...giving us the news. The rigid man of before seemed melted. He couldn't even muster a glare of contempt for the Italian. She is out back and has instructed to make a dinner of pasta. We will deliver it to you when it is finished. If you will follow me. He gestured and led Jimmy through the house. They passed a sitting room, sparsely decorated with all sorts of tools for spinning and weaving bin the middle say a frail-looking old woman. She sat before a loom but she slumped back in her chair. A wheel chair. He hair was thin and stark white, her elegant barely covering the skeletal frame. Out back was no fancy yard or garden. A large stable stood in the center, surround by small, green paddocks. Maeve stood in the middle of the nearest paddock. She had since changed. Rather than a new dress she wore, shockingly, men's breeches, a white shirt and vest of dark blue. She rested her face on the muzzle of a handsome, dappled grey horse. He held himself elegantly, even by just standing in one spot. He held still as Maeve stroked his cheek.