The Study and Application of Magic in Society

Chapter 2

All in all, the men met Ianthe and Agatha only for dinner each evening. Everyone had their own diversions, although Horatio encountered his sister in the library once. The eight days passed quickly, meeting fellow passengers, enjoying their surroundings, and pursuing their own interests. 

"Now that I've met two of your brothers, I find I can't quite keep them straight," Agatha said one afternoon during tea as they took a break from needlework.

"Theophilus is the eldest, then Cornelius and Julian. There was another brother between Leo and Jules, Ambrose. He died a few years after his mother did, yellow fever. Father had taken the boys on a vacation in the South; down the coast to Charleston and over to New Orleans. None of them have been back since, and Father refuses to let us go either. Then about five years after the death of his first wife, Constance Fish, she died from complications of Jules' birth, he met my mother, Eugenia Van Cortlander, and married her. Mother produced Horatio, then a string of daughters, Anthea, Eleni, me, and Oriana. Oriana died from diptheria when she was three." She sighed. "The older boys were at Harvard, well, Theo was setting up his own establishment after he graduated, but the rest of us children were hurried off to our grandparents so we wouldn't get sick too. We actually get along quite well, no arguments or resentment. The boys were spaced out one every two years, aside from Horatio, but we think that the reason we girls were produced one a year is that Father was hoping for more sons. The boys all followed Father to Harvard. Anthea and Eleni each went to women's colleges for a few years, not long enough to graduate, but to indulge their interests. Then they were brought home while I was over at the academy."

"Quite a large family," Agatha remarked.

"It might be nicer being in a smaller family like you," Ianthe acknowledged. "But I suspected that our parents would focus more on each of us then, and I can do without the increased scrutiny." Agatha laughed.

"And do you all resemble one another?"

"My stepbrothers are all shades of blond; the rest of us are brunettes. The boys all resemble Father to some degree, but we girls take after Mother's side of the family. Fortunately, as I don't fancy looking too masculine. I don't need a beard at all or a mustache, even if I could twirl the ends," Ianthe said lightly, and they laughed.

The ship was lovely, the food was excellent with well-chosen menus, but the young women were eager to be home. There were more opportunities for the men on board, exercise beyond the shuttleboard games on deck, smoking and whiskey after dinner. Ianthe's brothers got hot towel shaves at the barber shop.

The passengers were alerted when the coast of New York was seen, and Ianthe and Agatha made sure they hadn't left anything unpacked in their cabin. They stood at the railing and smiled as the port came into focus. Docking took time, and they were in no hurry to disembark. Finally, they walked down the gangplank and parted on the pier affectionately. Ianthe saw the family steam carriage and walked over to greet the driver.

"Welcome home, Miss Ianthe," Clarkson said, opening the door for her. She stepped delicately onto the running board, then ducked to enter the carriage without dislodging her hat, settling on the soft leather seat and folding her gloved hands in her lap.

"Thank you. My brothers are... somewhere, and Mr James Barnes sailed with us. I'm not sure if he'll ride with us or if he's arranged his own conveyance."

"Thank you, miss. I expect you're eager to get home. Tom and Phil are retrieving your trunks."

"I was good and didn't add any more luggage than what I told Mother I was bringing," she said with a smile. "Hard to fold away two years of my life, though;  I worry that the maids will be appalled at my packing. How are you and Mrs Clarkson doing?" Ianthe liked the family's driver. He'd worked for her father longer than she'd been alive. They chatted until her brothers showed up, minus Bucky, whose father had sent a horse-drawn carriage.