RP: Mums the Word
Who: Lancelot and Quin What: First Glimpse of an Angel When: December 3rd, 2008 (backdated!) Where: Lancelot's Library Warnings: Big Egos
Lancelot had been working at the library for a few years now. He’d found a love for the job when he had been in school. The library had always been one of his favorite places to do his homework, spend most of his free time, and to really just hang out. That had to sound odd to most people, especially once they got to know Lancelot. He was a friendly and outgoing guy, he didn’t seem to fit the type that would be hiding away deep in the stacks of books for days on end. And yet? He was very much that man. He was able to have an outlet for his more outgoing personality traits in his artifact hunting and collecting. He liked to think of himself as a wizarding Indiana Jones, though he was sure he couldn’t pull off the hat like Harrison Ford could. He did have a whip though, it was a prop replica of Indiana’s and it was up in his office. He grew up idolizing Indiana Jones.
His day to day life found him in the library more often than not. He only tended to leave for artifact hunts when he had good leads and currently, he had none. It was what found him standing in the middle of an aisle, dressed in his usual for the library. It was just a simple pair of black slacks and a buttoned down white shirt with a black professor’s jacket on over it, it even had those silly little patches over the elbows where it had been worn thing with love. His dark locks were as fluffy as ever, he’d maybe just fluffed them up while he’d been in the bathroom. In his hands was a piece of paper with titles of books he needed to pull in order to possibly translate some ancient ruins on a new artifact that had come across his desk.
It was as he looked up from his paper that he saw something golden and angelic walk past the aisle he was in. He couldn’t help his curiosity, it hadn’t looked like a ghost. He followed after the woman, a curious expression gracing his features. He waited until he was in the same aisle as her before he opened his mouth, “I think you might be in the wrong place.” He told the blonde with a playful smile, “Heaven’s a bit farther up.” He pointed towards the sky then, laughing at his own joke. His laugh though gave away the fact that he knew it was cheesy and lame. “I’m Lancelot, the head librarian here. Can I help you find anything?” He thought he was so charming sometimes.
Quintella didn't mind spending money on books, but sometimes there was no replacement for the library. There were some books she didn't particularly need or want to own, especially in relation to law, though she'd kept as much of her husband's law library as possible because she found she still fielded some work from a few of her husband's old coworkers at the IcW.
Plus it was interesting. To her, at least.
But until recently she'd only been quickly in and out, or doing things with the kids in the children's section. Today she was here alone and fetching a few books she wanted to look at. She was reasonably at home among the stacks, though reaching some of the shelves would always be problematic.
She looked over at the man, wide eyed, as he told her she was in the wrong place, and when he said heaven, she flushed a bit and glanced shyly away, her laugh very soft. She had a couple of books already in her arms, and today she was in a modest but pretty long sleeved grey dress, hair and face perfect as always. "Hello," she replied, and reached up to tuck a bit of hair behind one ear. "It's very nice to meet you. I think I'm finding everything all right, but thank you."
His smile seemed to grow when she blushed. She was even prettier up close, it gave his ego just a little extra push that he’d been able to make her blush. He still had it in him! He did notice the books in her arms, his thoughts never once thinking she may need help getting things down from shelves, he held out a hand. “May I carry those for you? They look heavy and you’re in a section where the books seems to get larger rather than smaller.” His mother had raised a gentleman and he was a bit persistent. If she turned him down twice, he’d walk away and think of a better tactic for when she would leave. He would attempt to find a wittier line, though he had thought himself fairly charming with his original one.
“What brings you to our library? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Which may have been a small lie, he had noticed her the last time she had come in with her children and went directly to the children’s area. He had not thought it terribly appropriate to try to chat up a young witch while she was out with her children. He had though checked to see if she had worn a wedding band, it only made a difference in if he’d follow through his flirtation or not. He tended to flirt with all pretty women, though he always tried to be respectful. He had yet to even realize she had not given her name, he’d end up with a Cinderella story if he wasn’t careful.
"Oh, um. If you want?" She said. No was always a problem word for Quin but she also knew from experience that men especially were very persistent about carrying things for her even when she didn't necessarily need them too. She was stronger than she looked, or Tim would never let her work at the preserve. But she gave in gracefully and let him take the tomes.
"I've just moved back to the area," she said. Well, it had been a few months in London now but it still felt very new. "So I've just been coming here more recently. There's some books I'd rather not buy, and I'm afraid I'm still finding boxes of books to unpack anyhow." She flapped a hand self consciously in a 'you know how it goes' sort of way. The only rings she wore were on her right hand. She'd not quite been able to get rid of her wedding band entirely, yet, but it was on the off hand now.
When she handed over the books, he easily held them in one hand. He was hoping she wouldn’t be one of those girl’s that wanted to look at her weight in books, he rather liked being able to do something simple like this. He could have easily brought his wand out of his jacket pocket and let the books hover, but then again he figured the witch in front of him could have done that too. There was something a bit more personal about physically carrying books for someone else. The angel was definitely worth it.
“You’re still unpacking?” He gave a soft chuckle, “It sounds like you must own a beautiful home library. How big is your collection?” One of the things that had sealed the deal that caused Lancelot to come over to talk to her was that she was in a section of the library that not many people visited. It was an area that he tended to find himself in alone, he’d heard one young witch call this section boring. The fact that she seemed to have a library was just as intriguing as the fact that she was smart. He was taking a big leap assuming she was the brilliant one that wanted these books and not for someone else. He had a feeling his assumption wasn’t far off.
"Well, in my defense, we've only been back in the London house for a few months," she murmured demurely. "Decorating my daughter's room has taken priority." She glanced down at the paper in her hand that she'd written purely for reference and with a practiced little hop and stretch in her small heeled boots she grabbed the book she'd come down the aisle for.
"Well, it's quite an eclectic collection," she said, folding the book up against her chest with her arms wrapped around it, an almost childish action except that it wasn't. "My husband had a very impressive collection, and he was very generous in adding to it over the years." And her interests were many and varied, and he'd indulged his young, shy wife in an effort to make her happy. After all, he'd chosen her because she was smart AND pretty.
It never occurred to her to hide the fact she'd had a husband or children. Or even that the man in front of her was interested in anything more than the fact she had a library.
For as arrogant as he seemed, he always paid attention. She had a daughter, he had already known that but he had not known that they had just moved to their London house a few months ago. He wondered where else she had homes. Then she mentioned a husband, but she didn’t have a ring? He tried to keep the look of confusion from reaching his face, he didn’t want her to notice. “You say that he had a very impressive collection, did he sell the collection?” He wondered if maybe the husband wasn’t much of an actual husband, never home and wouldn’t mind if his wife flirted with the harmless librarian.
He gave her a bright smile, “What did your daughter decide for her bedroom? How old is she?” The more he could get her to talk to him, the more comfortable he was hoping she would feel. He would keep asking questions about her until he could get her talking and rambling about something that interested her. He was trying to see just what she had picked up, trying to see if the subject she was reading up on was something he knew and could possibly chat about. As bad as it was, he was more concerned with figuring out what she was researching than the fact that she was standing on tiptoes and grabbing books with her fingertips. He rather liked watching her getting a book down, it was such a small beautiful thing.
"Oh, no. It's mine now, I suppose," she said, apologetic. "He passed away last year. And no one else seemed interested in the collection so I'm more than happy to have it." Her entire mien was shy, demure, but it wasn't at all put upon - entirely genuine, there. It was a public face, a more outgoing one, that was put on and hard to maintain.
"Purple. Lots and lots of purple," Quin said with just a bit of dismay coloring her voice. "She's almost five. I just have some of the final touches to add, but my brother has promised to come home this weekend and help me with it all." She would go by this weekend and remind him. Or rather just drag him home after she did a few things around the reserve. It was easiest that way. Her smile flashed quickly, fondly, as she talked about her family, and her face was more animated. It was obvious she loved them. "I've a little border of carousel horses that I think she'll like, and curtains, and I just bought pillows and a little moon shaped light for a reading nook."
While that was good to hear, she was single, it wasn’t nice to smile at someone when they gave you news that their loved one had passed away. He instead gave her a very sorry look, it was a little practiced, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” And then, because he was a librarian at heart, he continued on, “If you find that you want some of those books to find a new home someplace they’ll be well loved, you’re more than willing to bring them here. We take donations and if it is a very specific book that someone is looking for, we even buy them.” Just in case there was anything good in the collection that he had been looking for, you never knew!
A musical little chuckle left him as he heard the dismay about the color. “At least it isn’t a princess room? I hear those can look like the inside of chewed bubble gum with glitter everywhere.” His best friend had a daugther that had a bedroom like that. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to look at it after his best friend had given him that description. He had hit the topic that would make her open up though, she seemed a lot more animated when talking about her family. “That room sounds beautiful. It sounds like you and your brother have had a nice project on your hands. How long has it taken to get everything together?”
She dipped her head gracefully accepting his condolences. Most people were awkward with them and so it didn't strike her unusual. She murmured a soft, "Thank you," that was genuine though. "I'll keep that in mind. I'm not sure I'll part with anything immediately though. I'm awfully fond of many of them." Her smile was somehow self depreciating. "Plus I still end up helping out a few of his former colleagues so they're well used at times."
Quin giggled very softly. "Thank goodness she hasn't discovered glitter. I'm not sure I could cope!" For all Quintella was obviously a bit of a girly girl, with all her dresses and her perfect hair and makeup, she'd never gone for the glitter unless there was a specific need. She tended toward simply elegance and unknowingly depending a lot on her natural grace. "Though Auri is my little princess." She was a pretty little girl, and not quite a copy of her mother but it was close.
"Longer than it should, I suppose. But it's been priority, to give her her own space now that we're here. Timmy has been invaluable."
Lancelot gave her a playful smile, “Well, you don’t have to make any decisions right away. We’ve been open for an incredibly long time and plan to stay open for at least a couple hundred years if we’re able.” He chuckled then to show he was joking, though he was a bit impressed that she still helped some of his colleagues. That was interesting, he’d have to file that away for later when he could figure out how to ask about what the man did. It didn’t seem appropriate to ask now however. He’d have to keep that in mind.
Another deep chuckle left him then, “It sounds like you’re raising her right then. I don’t think my friend would have bothered to give his kids their own space if they’d moved. As it is, he makes the girl’s share a room.” Which he heard was a constant source of complaint for the children. Any holiday’s that he went over he would hear the bickering over whose things were on what side. “Did she change her mind a lot while you were putting her room together?”
Quin giggled softly, head ducking down to the book for a second. It was a tome on advanced Arithmancy, one she'd referenced before but she needed to review something again. "Well, yes, you are one of the oldest libraries in Britain," she agreed with a small little grin.
"Oh, she doesn't need to share with Fee," she said. "We have the room. And besides, she deserves her own space after losing her papa. That's her space." She knew how important even her tiny room had been to her when everything changed, how betrayed she'd always felt when someone invaded it without a thought or scruple.
"Oh no, so long as it's purple she's pretty happy so far. Only other thing she wanted was a place to hang her art and I wanted that anyway." She was so proud of her daughter and her already burgeoning abilities."I just hope she won't want to change her room next year too."
Her laughter was like tinkling bells, it was infections and caused him to laugh along with her. She was adorable and he was so intrigued by her. Everything about her didn’t add up to her being so smart but he knew she was. He could just tell in the things she said, the way she carried herself, all of it. He was stunned by her and it probably showed just a little, at least to anyone who knew him.
He couldn’t help it, it was so easy to keep her talking about her children. “Who is Fee? Oldest or youngest? I’m sure that she really appreciates being given her own space,” And if she didn’t, she would eventually. He was sure of it because he was positive that siblings preferred to be in their own space. He had loved having his own room growing up, he had been able to decorate it how he wanted with all the posters of his favorite Quidditch teams, photos of his friends and himself playing Quidditch, all of it.
“What kind of art does she do?” Which may have seemed a silly question but he figured the child could do just about anything. He wouldn’t have been shocked if he was told that the child sculpted, it just seemed to fit with the image the woman gave off. She was classically beautiful and he assumed her children were classically beautiful as well, along with having those abilities the picture perfect family had. You’d have one child that could play maybe the piano, another that would sing along at Christmas with the best holiday songs, maybe another that was painting in the corner or potentially sculpting the family dog. He could see it.
"Fee's my baby," she said softly. "He's about 8 months now." She adored her children. They overwhelmed her sometimes, but her love was a never fluctuating thing. They were her babies and they were her heart. It didn't matter that she'd never been in love with their father, for all she had loved him. They were her world.
"She's really good at drawing," she admitted. "I think so, anyway. It might just be me being her mama." And she knew she shouldn't be babbling on about them so much, it must be so boring for this man to listen to her go on about them, but she couldn't always help herself, she was so proud of their little accomplishments and worked hard to make them feel proud of themselves too. "I'm thinking of seeing if I can find a tutor though. Encourage her at it." She'd been self taught with so many things, but she wanted better for her daughter, and while she could do basic sketching, music was her creative area of interest. "Her favorite things are drawing and painting and books, so far."
Though they did plenty of outside things. Every day, unless the weather was awful. Quin liked to get out into the fresh air.
Lancelot smiled wider as she mentioned the 8 month old, it was really sweet. He wanted to ask more but he couldn’t think of how to ask more about the baby without it being a bit of a reach. He didn’t want her to know that he was purposely asking questions to keep her talking, to get to know more about her. He already knew his two children’s names, something with A, maybe Ari? Or was it Auri? And then there was her second child, a baby named Fee. He could remember that name easily.
“I think there’s a difference between loving the child’s art because it’s your child and your child being very good at art. The fact that you’re looking into getting her a tutor for it leads me to believe that she is very good at her craft. I’d love to see some of her work sometime, I think we do small showings from time to time in the children’s corner. Her art might be a bit advanced for it, I wouldn’t know, but she might like seeing her art up in other places too. Has she been to the children’s corner yet?” He was trying his best to find any reason he could to get the woman back into the library so he could get to know her some more.
"See I just don't want to be one of those Mamas. Too proud and vain and all. Auri is the best but she knows I adore her." She pushed back a lock of her hair, peeking at him worriedly, wondering if she were talking too much about the children. He didn't seem bored or upset. "I've only brought her in a couple of times. To pick out a few books. But I'll make sure she knows about the art work. She'll really like that."
This wasn't a party or social gathering and she found she had trouble keeping his gaze for more than a brief moment, and she knew it was ridiculous to let her shyness get the better of her in situations where she was unprepared. "I, ah. One more book, if you're not too busy?" She finally managed shyly, a faint rosin essential to her cheeks as she fidgeted with her piece of paper. At least she hadn't pretended there wasn't another one? Progress, right?
He couldn’t help the surprised laugh that left him when she said she didn’t want to be one of those mom’s. “You don’t seem like you are one of those mother’s, if that helps at all? I have met a lot of those mother’s that think their children are the most special little snowflake in the world, they talk differently about their children than you do about your children.” He admitted with an easy sort of shrug, he had heard them talk of their children and they always sounded like they were talking about a prized pony or something. This woman was talking of her children as if she were proud and wanted to develop their skills, not get them special treatment.
Her shy demeanor was something he wasn’t so used to but he adored it. He liked the way she fidgeted and seemed to blush at just letting him know there was one more book she needed. Lancelot nodded his head, holding the books in his arms out for her to set the newest book she had acquired with the rest. “Which way must we go to retrieve the last book then?” He gave her that big toothy smile again, hoping to make it a bit more genuine than it had been. He was hoping to reassure her about whatever it was that was making her shy.
She was terribly proud of her children. She could brag on them all day. It was obvious how she felt about them. But she also tried very hard not to be that person. She wanted to foster their skills and encourage them, not spoil them. She had no idea if she was managing or not. She still had a hard time saying no to most things.
She slid the Arithmancy tome into his arms carefully, murmuring another thank you very softly. Her shyness had improved over the years but she still met situations like this where she simply felt like retreating.
"Just a couple of rows over," she said, pointing. And then she led him in that direction, hands nervously smoothing down the skirt of her dress. It was the magical law section, and this time she had to drag the stool at the end down to it and step up on it to lever the book off the shelf. She didn't even think to ask him to do it. "I just need it to reference," she explained apologetically.
Lancelot nodded his head, adjusting the books in his arms when she added to them. He followed her to go down a few rows, and when he really should have been offering to get it down for her? He was, instead, watching her as she got it down. He couldn’t help it, there was just something so elegant about her and how she carried herself that it made watching her something special. You just didn’t see many women with that poise and grace anymore.
He looked up when she spoke however, having been called out of his thoughts. “What for? Are you writing a paper?” He asked curiously, he’d offer to read over anything she might write. He was also curious if he could find anything she had wrote, though he didn’t know her name and didn’t know how if he could just ask. What if she didn’t write papers? What if it was just for something a friend of her’s was doing. He had a lot of questions but he was having trouble finding a polite way to ask about these things.
"Oh, not on this, no. Galen is floundering in a case he's on and his clerk is next to useless - his words, not mine," she hastened to add, coloring again because it sounded so horrible! She wasn't one to say bad things about anyone. She was actually worried she was going to need to go to France herself to sort it out. She felt obliged because Galen had been a close friend to Ambrose and he'd always been very kind to her, after an initial skepticism of her abilities at law. "So I've been doing some of his clerking from home when I have time. It's a very interesting case but there's some major problems circling around some minor points of archaic laws that might or might not be applicable and..." She waved her hands a bit, realizing she was building up a little too much enthusiasm over what was essentially a boring topic to most of the world. She smoothed hands down her skirt again, reining in her composure and trying not to be too self conscious. "Obviously it's a bit of a muddle. It's the Arithmancy book that's for an article."
The words slipped out without her thinking. It sounded so much like bragging to her and she just wanted to hide. She felt terribly out of sorts today. Her cheeks flamed and she heated the new tome in her arms, keeping her eyes on it and not on him because gods above and below she was making a muddle of herself today.
Lancelot was fairly excited that he had hit the nail on the head, she was incredibly smart and she had just shown her hand. At least, most of her hand. He grinned a bit, shaking his head. “What if it is applicable? Will you help him win? It sounds like you’re doing a lot of hard work though, you must be exhausted. Do you enjoy helping out his colleagues?” He asked curiously, he was hoping she did enjoy the intellectual endeavors, if she did he was already planning what he’d do the next time they ran into each other. He’d purposely find an artifact that he needed some help with, he had a lot of them that he was looking into for clients as well as himself. He was hoping she might enjoy it.
“An article? Do you have your own column regularly?” He really did like hearing her talking like this. A smart woman was always a turn on for him, it helped that she was easy on the eyes as well. He was a bit confused as to how the woman was single still but then again he knew the younger wizards could be a bit dense. They might not know what they had in front of them.
"If what I think is applicable, is, then Galen will win his case and the ICW will probably see a few sweeping changes in order to see some of the more archaic laws overturned so that will actually be to the good, on the whole. The case has already been through the French and English magical courts and only got elevated to the ICW when Galen was approached about it a couple of years ago. He and Ambrose worked on it for a little while before... well." She sighed softly. "Oh it's not that hard. I just need to be able to cite all the appropriate laws and bylaws and support the argument so Galen will be fully prepared when he goes in for it next." She wrinkled her nose faintly. "I just really hope he doesn't need me to come down and be there." She'd done it a few times since she'd essentially subbed for Ambrose more than once during his long illness. But the stress levels it caused her to get up and debate and speak in the semi public forum were awful.
She shook her head, changeable grey eyes large in surprise. "Oh, no, not regular," she denied, clutching the book. "I'm just... part of a debate right now?" She was in fact one of the more prominent speakers for a particular new theorem but as it was in writing she didn't consider it anything special. That and she did write under a pseudonym so no one would hold her squib status against her as happened all too often.
He could have sat there forever and listen to her talk. It wasn’t a particular area that he was interested in, no. He had never been huge on magical law, but it was still something that brought he could listen to for hours. “Where is down there?” He asked curiously, would she be traveling soon? If he knew what area she was familiar with, maybe he could find something that was from that area. It’d make more sense for why he would be asking her for advice on the artifact and not just because he thought she wildly smart.
When she mentioned she was in a debate, he wanted to ask to read it but he was having trouble finding a way to ask. He wanted their next run in to be completely spontaneous, if only for the fact that it was a bit more romantic. He had plans to ask her, eventually, out on a proper date. He first wanted to be sure that she was interested and the best way he knew how was to bait the hook and play the long game. He wanted to run into her again by chance, though he doubted with the way he was finding reasons for her to come back that it’d be all that by chance. Though he supposed that just asking if the next time she came in to drop it off didn’t hint too much that he was hoping she’d come back. “Could I read it sometime? If you wouldn’t mind? You can drop it off at the front desk for me, if I’m not here.” And there, he had to hope that it sounded innocent enough.
"Oh, in France. The ICW has been been in Rome for oh, the last 9 years or so? But it is just a short trip. Galen lives in Marseilles, not too far from where our home was, actually. He and Ambrose were dear friends, so when we moved, well." Her pronunciation of the French words was almost impeccable. She'd worked very hard to perfect her French when he'd moved them.
She looked uncertain as she chewed on her lower lip. "I could? If you really want? You might have to look up the past editions of the periodical, to get a feel for the debate." She chewed on her lip some more. "But..." She looked even more uncertain now, nervous. "I write under another name. Can you please not tell anyone? No one would like it if they knew it was me," she added in a rush though she had no intention of telling him why that really was. Her eyes were large and pleading as she asked.
He would have to go through his entire collection to see if he had anything from France. He was almost certain he had something from the catacombs but he wasn’t entirely sure where it was. He was hoping he’d have at least a little while until she’d be coming back to the Library. “That sounds like it’ll be a good trip, at least for a short while. Would you have to be gone long, if you need to go?” He asked curiously, his smile growing just a bit.
“Mums the word,” He would have held up a hand to do a fake little salute or lock of his lips, but his hands were full. He didn’t think to ask her just why she would want her real name hidden from the public, he assumed it was because she was either very famous or didn’t want to be very famous. He wanted to be well known for his own achievements so he always made sure his name was all over everything. When he was younger it had created problems, now that he was a bit older and a little bit wiser, he was in fact able to curb his enthusiasm. “I won’t tell anyone your name, especially since I don’t know your real name.” He gave her a playful smile, his eyes glittering with the playful nature that was behind his words.
"Ach, I don't know?" She said, giving a little helpless shrug. "It honestly depends. I do not want to be away from home for the holidays. This is the first in this house and it will be Felix's first ever. So he will have to wait, if that is the case. " And she would have to make sure Timmy remembered the holidays too.
She wasn't about to tell him why she didn't want to be known. She wasn't about to tell him she was a squib yet, for that matter. He might stop being so helpful and then when she did need something, it would be hard. Of course there was every possibility that someone else will tell him, accidentally or on purpose, but she wasn't going to dwell on that. There was already one robe maker who would not see her anymore. That had been terribly hurtful after they'd done so good for her in a previous order.
She grew a little flustered, between his teasing tone and the fact that she'd failed to introduce herself. "Oh! I'm sorry." She hugged the book to her chest, but she dipped her legs down into a sweeping enough curtsey even though she didn't have a hand free for her skirt. "I'm Quintella Lucis Sewell, at your service." Her voice was soft and her eyes didn't quite meet his. It was a perfectly pureblooded greeting, old family style, and she always introduced herself by her old name and her newer one. Sneaking a glance at him, she actually figured that he probably went to school with the oldest couple of her brothers and probably, she thought with a sinking feeling, a couple of her husband's children from his first marriage.
He couldn’t blame her, if he had a family of his own he might not want to be gone over the holidays. As it was, he tried to rarely miss holidays and the only person that he had to spend them with was his brother. He never minded though, it always made for an interesting time. He smiled at her, nodding his head. “That’s very understandable. It can’t be easy traveling with one so young as well. Would you take him with you, if you go? All the kids, rather?” Since he assumed if she took one, she’d take both.
Lancelot would have had to be blind to not notice the pureblood greeting, he was old enough that he’d had to learn it. He had, much to his relief, forgot most of what he was to do. “You’re overly formal.” He told her with a playful smile, “It’s very nice to meet you though, I’d have felt silly having to tell people I met an angel without a name today.” He didn’t even realize he’d called her an angel again, it had been an accidental slip. It was how he saw her though, a beautiful angel that happened to just fall into his life. He hoped she’d stay as well. Another thought, that was so far from his mind, was to ask anyone at all in his life if they knew her. “Do you prefer to go by Quintella?” He asked curiously, not wanting to call her by it the next time her saw her and end up being shunned because she actually disliked her own name.
"I'd have to take Fee." Her cheeks flushed faintly and she couldn't think of a polite way to say she was breastfeeding that was publicly acceptable to say to a man. So many people seemed to have opinions on that any more and it shocked her sometimes because she just considered it a natural thing. "I'd probably have to take Auri too, unless it was a short time and Tim was willing to take care of her."
Between the way his words and then his compliment, she remained flushed and flustered. Her manners were a refuge but she didn't know how to deal with the attention. Any male attention the last few years had been warded off by her husband, not in a jealous way but a protective sort of way.
"I'm not an angel," she said for lack of anything else to say, her eyes wide and startled looking. She managed not to um or hmm. That was rude. She did hesitate though, biting her lip uncertainly. "Quin or Ella is fine," she said softly. "People call me either. Or Quintella. It really doesn't matter. Whatever you prefer."
Lancelot didn’t understand why her cheeks were flushing, he was very male and didn’t even begin to think that she had to keep her son close because he was breastfeeding still. He smiled at her, nodding his head. “That sounds like a nice family trip back home, at least if you take everyone with you. I do hope that you won’t have to go though, I hope it’ll all work out.” He selfishly didn’t want her going back, he wanted her to still live in London and have reasons to come to his library.
Her startled expression was adorable, he didn’t fight her on whether she was an angel or not. She clearly wouldn’t believe his reasons, so he just shrugged his shoulders but was making a mental note on what to call her. She had said Quin first, so that was probably what he’d default to. “It’s very nice to meet you Quin.” He would have shaken her hand if he had any hands that were not buried under books in his arms. He thought somehow that was rude anyhow, you weren’t supposed to shake hands with women.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?" He wasn't trying to rush her, he was honestly trying to find another reason to keep her there for a few moments longer, to talk to her for just another moment, maybe get another blush or smile from her.
"Maybe, maybe not. We will see." She missed France. She would be honest if asked. France had had the first home she'd ever lived in where she'd felt completely safe, protected. It had been her place. That it had been taken from her still hurt. She missed it. She missed the ocean though she might go to the beach house one weekend soon.
"You as well," she murmured. All politeness. She would shake hands but it wasn't the way she'd been raised. Old manners had been instilled in her but she was adaptable enough to function in other situations.
"Is there a table where I'd be out of the way while I went through these?" She asked almost hesitantly. She had parchment and such in the small bag over her shoulder, which of course was bigger on the inside, a gift she'd gotten several years ago.
Lancelot nodded his head, his smile still very big and genuine. “I can take these to a table for you and set you up for success. When you’re done with all of the books, I can put them away for you so don’t even bother with them. I don’t want you to hurt yourself putting them all back.” He would try his best to find a reason to come over while she was working, if nothing else he’d at least have someone purposely drop an advertisement for one of their children’s nights. He was hoping to entice her to come back again.
It was then that he moved to head out of the stacks, heading towards where the tables were. He led her to one that was closer to where they were and farther from the children’s area. He didn’t know if the sounds of children would keep her distracted so he thought it was a good idea. “How does this table look to you?” He asked as he stood in front of the empty table he was going to put her at. He set the books down on the table then, and with a free hand moved to grab his wand from a pocket. With a quick swish and flick, the light at the table flicked on. "I thought maybe sitting away from the children's area would help you to focus on what you're working on?"
"You don't have to do that," she demurred. Quin was really good about putting her things back where they belonged, even at the library. Always had been. Years of being chastised at home for not doing it had made her a neat, tidy person who always left things nicer behind her than she'd gotten there with.
"This looks wonderful, thank you," she murmured. She just didn't want to be a bother. She was grateful he'd turned on the light, how embarrassing would it be to have to ask to have it done later. He'd wonder and maybe even figure her out. She didn't think it was a lie, precisely, to let strangers think what they wanted; it was only when she knew people a while that she started feeling the urge that maybe she should confess her sin of being.
"It doesn't matter. It might help to be away from the area, I'm so used to paying attention to the children." It was one reason she was taking a few hours to herself here instead of bringing them along today.
Lancelot found it so strange that this woman wouldn’t just take him up on his offers for help. She seemed fairly independent and was trying to do all of the things herself. He admired it but it was also so curious, he was chalking it up to the generation gap between them. He had yet to meet a little old bittie that didn’t want him to help them carry everything and do all of the things for them, including putting the books away. Here he was looking forward to being able to do that for Quin and she didn’t want him to, it was curious. “I offered, just leave them on your table when you’re through and I’ll put them away.”
And now was the chance that Lancelot got to point at his office, which was just a pair of double wood doors at the very back of the library. There was a small desk just inside the wooden doors, it was his secretary. The offices tended to be a bit louder and more chaos, it was why the doors were meant to keep the noise inside the office and not in the library. “If you ever need to find me? I’m just behind those doors. My assistant will let you right in.” He gave her a bright smile then, he wished he had something to give her, some bit of advice. Hell, he’d have settled for a witty one liner to leave on, but he couldn’t seem to find one. He just had hopes that she’d bring her debate into him sometime. She might think it silly but he knew he could look up the old issues and track the debate, it’d be no problem. A lot easier than other things he had done in order to look up something for an artifact.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sewell.” He gave her a bow then, shooting her a toothy genuine smile, before he righted himself and headed off towards said office. He had a few things to finish up and doubted she wanted him hovering around her.
As much as Quin would enjoy being waited on, she'd always been a servant, not the served. If she were to leave things a mess, some part of her still expected to be lectured and disciplined, not matter that she'd not been so for years now. "Thank you," she murmured against, at a loss for what else to say without revealing too much.
She glanced in the direction he indicated, making a mental note even if she didn't plan on disturbing him in his work. She dipped him another small curtsey and flashed him a small, genuine smile. "I appreciate you help," she said sincerely.
She sat down neatly then, ankles crossed under her, and she pulled her long golden hair up and back, tying it up in a simple bun while she worked, and then set out all her supplies neatly. She'd do one subject at a time and get it all done. With any luck she would get it done before the nanny was due to leave.