Part 34 (1/2)

There was momentary puzzlement, then what he was suggesting dawned on his spouses, and he got nods and murmurs of agreement from the rest.

”That's settled, then,” he said, turning to Cortin. ”Subject to Your Excellency's veto, of course, this will be Family Cortin. With you at its head, equally of course.”

Cortin stared at him, then found herself unable to hold back a wide, delighted smile. ”No veto, Mike. That's the nicest present I could ever get! Thanks, all of you!”

”No need for thanks,” Chang said. ”The honor and pleasure are ours.

On St. Ignatius, we would now be ent.i.tled to call you Mother; is that true here?”

”You've made me head of your--our--family, and I'm a female,” Cortin said, ”so I suppose that is the proper t.i.tle. And that means I'll be grandmother to your children!” She smiled again, thoroughly pleased.

”Though I hope you'll keep calling me Joan or Joanie, too, and of course we'll have to observe correct protocol in public.”

”Of course, Excellency,” Chang said with a perfectly straight face.

The news was just too good to keep to herself, and Cortin knew His Majesty had to be the first to know about the Family and her new status in it--though it would surprise her if Prince Edward hadn't already told him about the first part. She was nervous about the result, enough so that she was reluctant to call at all--certainly not before His Majesty could reasonably be expected to have been to Ma.s.s, had breakfast, and gotten his morning briefing from his chief advisors.

G.o.d willing, there'd be nothing in the briefing to upset him--maybe even some news to put him in a good mood.

In the meantime, she told herself she really ought to brief Matthew to expect new residents and a visitor, then write the invitation to Blackfeather. And there was all that mail and paperwork that had been acc.u.mulating in her main-floor office; she should at least go through it enough to sort what had to be taken care of from what could be thrown out.

She had alerted Brady, who proved enthusiastic about having children in the house once she a.s.sured him they'd be kept very strictly out of her profession, written the invitation, and was starting to work her way through the stack of mail when Powell looked in the open door. ”Need some help? I'm pretty good at that sort of thing.”

Cortin looked up at him gratefully. ”I sincerely hope so, because this is the one part of my job I really don't like. Pull up a chair and see what you can do.”

Powell did so, taking a stack of mail, opening and going through it with considerable a.s.surance and more speed than Cortin herself was managing. After a few minutes, she discovered she was doing more watching than working--and being impressed. When he finished with the stack, she took it and scrutinized his work.

That was even more impressive than watching him, because he had dealt with every piece exactly as she would have. Impressive, and a little frightening--but she wasn't about to question a gift from G.o.d. ”What do you do during the day, Chuck?”

Powell flushed. ”Not much, I'm afraid. Read, mostly, between Ma.s.s and supper--and entertain myself, of course. It's fun, but I'd like to do something more . . . productive.”

”Productive as in?”

”This sort of thing. I'm pretty good at it, I think, and you don't like it--maybe I could be your secretary, or aide, or whatever you'd want to call it?”

Cortin chuckled. ”'Great minds' . . . You're more than pretty good, you're incredible--almost as if you were reading my mind. The job's all yours, with my thanks.”

Powell flushed again. ”It's easy--when we were so close to being one person, you wanted me--maybe all of us--to know you as well as we could. I can sort of put myself in your place, at least enough to handle routine things the way you would. And I enjoy doing it.”

”As I said, it's all yours.” Cortin handed him the invitation to Blackfeather. ”I thought I ought to write this myself, and I'm never sure when I'll have time free, but I don't want it going out until we can be sure she'll get it after the Bains arrive. Can you handle that?”

”No problem.” Powell took the paper. ”They'll be arriving a week from Sat.u.r.day, right?”

”That's what I understand, yes.”

”Mail it a week from today, then.” Powell clipped a note to the invitation and put it in the middle basket of her stack. ”Okay, anything else?”

Cortin glanced at the clock and winced. ”I have to call His Majesty and tell him about the Family--stick around and give me moral support?”

”Of course.”

”Thanks.” Cortin made the call, almost wis.h.i.+ng the King wouldn't answer. When he did and she identified herself, though, she could hear a smile in his voice.