When the woman sputtered, Wave patted Marc’s leg under the table.That got his attention, and Wave tried to convey to him with only her eyes that she was fine and he should get on with the roast and lobster that the staff was now loading next to the chicken.Either they were in a rush to get the fuck out of here, or Hatty had no idea how to instruct them to space things out.He didn’t seem to understand, since he gently pointed to the correct fork for her to use.
“Oh, oh my.I’m so, so, so, so, sorry!”Wave gushed and then picked up the fork next to the one he had pointed.That finally drove the point home.Marc bit his lip and turned to his plate, eyes sparkling.
Good.Father had always made a point of not skipping perfectly good food because there was upset at the dinner table.That only gave one’s opponents an edge.A well-fed body produced a sharper mind and all that.Wave had learned to gather every advantage that she could during the very formal, very upset dinners with her grandparents over the years.
Grandmother didn’t judge based on what fork one used.She judged by the way you picked up the correct one, by the angle at which you held it, and by how tightly you squeezed.Clutching the cutlery like it was going to run away was crass, something only peasants did.
Yes, she had used that word in that context more than once.Heather Ulrichce wouldn’t last past sitting down at the table with Angestilica Stormwell.The way she fidgeted in her chair and tugged it closer to the table offended even Wave’s sensibilities.
“Marshall, you should listen to your mother,” the old biddy next to Wave decided to open her mouth.“It’s important to marry in the same social circles and your… little friend, doesn’t really fit in the high society, now does she?”
Wave couldn’t help it.She snorted so hard that some of the wine she had been about to sip came out of her nose.She couldn’t have made a better scene even if she had planned it, and certainly not as believable.
“That’s it, we are leaving,” Marc snapped and pushed his chair back.Wave noticed Tanner getting up too, with a fierce look on his face, and she hurriedly waved her hand.Since he was the one paying attention to her, he saw and reluctantly sat back down.
The old hag next to her, on the other hand, had been going for her own wine glass, and Wave managed to slap it into her lap.It was actually an accident, and as the red wine spilled over the old lady’s front and lap, Wave fought an urge to laugh and apologize at the same time.
That resulted in another unladylike snort, and the woman’s face turned pale and then red in quick succession.
“Oh, you little,” her hand was flying toward Wave’s face, but didn’t get far as Marc pushed his arm between them.When Wave had mock-punched him, her hand had stung.As the woman’s palm made contact with Marc’s forearm, she shrieked in pain, like she had slammed her hand into open flames or a brick wall.Maybe a burning brick wall.
If there had been anyone unaware of the drama unfolding, they weren’t anymore.An older man on the other side of the woman sprang to his feet and started shouting.Hatty was on her feet, shouting too.Marc was vibrating with controlled fury.
There was shouting, tears, threats, fallen chairs, challenges, and more spilled wine.Most of the table was on their feet.Wave dried her face, straightened her glass, and forked another piece of the lobster into her mouth.
As she chewed, her eyes landed on the one other person still calmly sitting down and eating.Marc’s father lifted his water glass in a toast to her, and Wave could have sworn he was hiding a smile behind a piece of roast.
She decided to test her theory, and for just one bite, her whole posture changed, she held the fork properly, and lifted the piece of lobster to her lips daintily.Under her lashes, she observed as the man’s fork stopped midway.
Wave let her posture relax and chewed with her mouth half open.Yep, that was a smile that flashed over his lips.So, older Mr.Ulrichce had a sense of humor.
“Wayla, come on,” Marc urged her.“We are leaving.”
For just a fleeting instance, older Ulrichce’s fingers tightened around his fork and Wave turned up to blink at Marc.
“But the food is so good, Marki-bear.Can’t we stay until the dessert?I’d love to have some.”He blinked down at her, and she gave him her widest, most empty-headed smile.
“Absolutely not,” Hatty screeched.“This is my celebration, I want her—”
“Sit.Down.”The command came from Mr.Ulrichce with such a crush of power that everyone but Marc folded into their chairs immediately.Marc took a moment to straighten his chair and sit down in a more controlled manner.
Murmurs died down, and everyone looked at him expectantly.“I think I agree with Ms.Spinwell.I’d like to have some dessert,” he said and laid his fork down, indicating that he was done.Immediately, an army of servants swept in to clear the plates.
“But Henri,” Hatty whined.
“Not now, Heather,” he said.“This is still my house, and we will show some courtesy to our guests.”
“Courtesy,” Hatty spluttered.“But she—”
Marc’s father flicked his eyes to Wave and then to his wife.“She behaved as expected.”He held up a hand and cut her off before she could even start.Wave wondered why he was covering and standing up for her.When Marc wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she had her answer.
No matter what was going on between the father and the son, he was willing to stand up for his son, even if it was done so covertly that Wave wasn’t sure if even Marc realized what he was doing.
“Ah, here’s the dessert.I hope it’s to your liking, Ms.Spinwell,” Henri said.
“I’m sure it is, Mr.Ulrichce.All the food has been delicious.My compliments to your chef,” Wave replied calmly.Henri’s eyes twinkled as she picked up her soup spoon.She had used her dessert spoon with her soup already.
“To many more entertaining dinners, I hope, Ms.Spinwell.”He toasted her again with his water glass and Wave lifted her dessert wine glass in return, the first piece of proper tableware she had used the whole evening.
