Gilbert felt a slight flush of embarrassment. His father had always been a bit more brisk than he had, but his mother had always seemed to make him better. His father had always been better with his mother, but she was dead now. There was nothing to keep him from being set in his ways.
"Thank you," Thomas said, nodding curtly before adding, "I'll return momentarily, then." His gaze settled for a moment on Gilbert, a vaguely curious and contemplative expression on his face. Gilbert wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. Not completely anyway.
Looking toward Hestia, Gilbert offered her a small smile and gestured to the couch. "We may as well sit," he said after a moment.
"Yes. By all means. Sit," came a voice from the kitchen, and Gilbert frowned just slightly before sitting down. He wanted to tell her not to mind his father, that he really wasn't so bad, but he would leave that for later.
As Thomas returned to the room with tea and biscuits, Gilbert cleared his throat. "So what have you been up to, Father? I believe last we spoke, you said you had a trip planned for the near future."
"Yes," Thomas said quietly. "I did say that. Wales."
Gilbert's eyes focused on him for a moment, not sure what to say. "Oh. Are you going to-" visit Mother's family.
"No. I'm not. I'm sure you haven't either." Thomas gave him a look as if to say 'so we needn't discuss this'. "Now Hestia," he said, turning to look at her. "I am to gather you are a witch?"