"I would love some coffee," Theodore said with a nod. "I've told you, I'm pretty thoroughly Americanized after twenty-odd years." The meal had been excellent, and Elaine had taken to Hugh as easily as Theodore had, though he hadn't been surprised by that, since she was very much Jamie's daughter in that regard: she took to everyone with a friendly and open nature unless they gave her a reason not to.
The house had looked impressive from the outside, but he had to admit it was even more so inside. It was the kind of place that, in a way, made him wonder why they had stayed in the same, modest house in Salem for all these years, when their means dictated they could have lived much grander. But he also knew that they had both wished it, without ever discussing it. For Jamie, it was a callback to his childhood, and for Theodore, who had grown up in a decaying country manor, modest was a better fit than something too familiar. He didn't like the emptiness of a large home, and part of him wondered how Hugh could stand it, his animals notwithstanding. It seemed to be too much house for one person alone. But that, he knew, was projection.
Theodore slowly made his way over to the cat in front of the cold fireplace, reaching out a hand to let him sniff before scratching at his ears and under his chin. "I think Elaine is excited at the prospect of having her own private theater for the evening," he said with a soft laugh. "You might have doomed me to providing that same experience for her at home." Of course, it was a price he would gladly, always, pay.