The three gentlemen he either knew or had met at billiards. Noah’s brother-in-law, the Marquess of Cainewood, was a mediocre shot but a good sport. Then there was a fashionable-looking fellow called Captain Talbot, who’d been forever attempting to raise the stakes.
But it was the third gentleman Jonathan finally decided to approach. He was a distant cousin of Noah’s called The Honorable Mr. Nathaniel Chase. A reedy man with generous sideburns, he didn’t play billiards, but had declared he was fond of spectating.
Though his idea of spectating had been to crowd the table and direct his chatter toward whichever player was attempting to concentrate, Jonathan hadn’t minded. Mr. Chase had earned his good opinion by beginning a lively discussion of Roman amphorae. Since Jonathan had a great fear of boring his friends with his obscure interests, he could not but relish an opportunity to converse with a fellow antiquarian. Now he was looking forward to another such conversation.
But the same moment he joined Mr. Chase on the sofa, a footman pulled the bell. Claire announced dinner, obliging everyone to rise and Jonathan to suspend his zeal for ancient aqueducts.
As they entered the dining parlor, he was dismayed to recall that two of the guests were still strangers to him—the lady on the sofa and Claire’s young chub. Quite suddenly he felt all the impropriety of sitting down to dinner with people to whom he had never been introduced.
His rank entitled him to a place next to Claire’s at the top of the table, an arrangement which gave no one any pleasure. Claire was composed but noticeably tense, and for his part, Jonathan would have much preferred to keep his distance from her until he could contrive a private meeting.
He looked away, pretending to admire the artful centerpieces made from winter greenery and gilded paper, until Claire, never remiss in her duties, made the necessary introductions. The young chub turned out to be a Lord Milstead, a viscount come all the way from Shropshire. And the unknown lady seated to the right of Jonathan, wearing a sharp-eyed look on her lightly freckled face, was The Honorable Mrs. Nathaniel Chase.
“Your grace’s notice is an honor,” she gushed, awe softening her gaze. “I’d no notion this little house party would be so very fine! Is not my cousin Claire a dazzling hostess?”
Jonathan would have answered in the affirmative had not Mrs. Chase kept right on talking.
“Is not Greystone simply enchanting? Such distinguished tapestries! They do so complement the china—which I believe I’ve seen in the window at Wedgewood & Byerley—twelve shillings apiece? Indeed, a very fine party! And I hear we’re to have some sort of surprise recreation in the morning?”
A general pause ensued, for none of her listeners had expected a genuine question.
“Yes,” Cainewood eventually jumped in to answer, “there’s always a surprise outing during the Greystone Christmas party. A tradition begun by my wife when she was mistress here.” He cast a fond look down to the other end of the table, where Lady Cainewood was seated by her brother.
“Last year it was skating on the River Caine,” Claire added.
“How enchanting!” Mrs. Chase exclaimed. “What’s it to be this year?”
“A surprise,” Elizabeth said sweetly, prompting a ripple of laughter.
Mrs. Chase was prevented from responding to this bon mot by the arrival of the first course, which a troop of synchronized footmen laid out with great ceremony.
Dish after dish materialized, beautifully dressed and artistically arranged, until scarcely any tablecloth could be seen. Jonathan’s mouth watered, and nothing less than the manners that had been drilled into him since birth could have restrained him from serving himself before the ladies.
Claire was already being helped by her cousin Cainewood, which left Jonathan at the service of Mrs. Nathaniel Chase. “Oooooooh,” she moaned, examining each and every platter with slow, maddening thoroughness. “How on earth shall I choose? Everything looks sublime. And yet I’m full to bursting after the gorgeous luncheon, not to mention the delightful spread in my chamber. I never can help myself when it comes to gingerbread!”
“Gingerbread?” Jonathan echoed bemusedly. Surely she couldn’t mean those tasteless biscuits?
“The gingerbread was capital,” Cainewood agreed. “Though I was particularly partial to the winter-berry tart.” He aimed an approving nod in Claire’s direction.
She smiled modestly. “The recipes are all your sisters’, Griffin. Oh, excepting the Irish whiskey cake—that one came from the Delaney family. Did it turn out well?”
As everyone within earshot exclaimed over the Irish whiskey cake, Jonathan wondered if he was delirious (from hunger?). Had he somehow overlooked a large, reportedly delicious cache of sweets in his room?
Mrs. Nathaniel Chase continued to hem and haw while every other lady and gentleman were served and began eating. At length she selected a helping of everything within Jonathan’s reach (and he had a long reach).
Finally Jonathan found himself at liberty to attend to his own plate. His first choice would be the rich stewed lamb immediately before him, and he had the ladle in hand when a figure appeared at his side.
“I beg your pardon, your grace,” Mr. Evans murmured with a deep bow. “May I present your meal?”
Jonathan startled and relinquished the ladle as the butler replaced his empty plate with a full one. “I—er—thank you, Mr. Evans,” he said in utter confusion.
Had the butler taken it upon himself to fill a plate for him? That would be very odd!
But no, upon examining the plate in question, Jonathan realized his mistake—for it contained no food at all resembling what was on the table, instead bearing two delicate silver bowls filled with generous portions of gruel and soft-boiled eggs, respectively.
The gruel was gray and watery, while the eggs, helpfully stripped of their shells and so “soft” as to appear nearly raw, had coalesced into one gelatinous mound.
In horror and bewilderment, he turned to question the grizzled butler. But Mr. Evans had deftly retreated. The diners around Jonathan were all engrossed in their own food—except Claire, who watched him with an air of benevolence.
