Agrippa giggled. "You'd best not be doing that," she warned. "Pa's liable to get all kinds of strange ideas about it."
Simmons laughed gleefully, as if the young woman's comment were funny.
"Esme, dear." Cleav captured the attention of the room as he acknowledged his bride.
Standing beside the mantel, Cleav looked the part of the relaxed gentleman at leisure. The two young men stood, also, brandy glasses in hand. Yohan was seated on the divan with Mrs. Rhy, both passing occasional knowing looks. The twins were seated in identical fireplace chairs as if posing for an artist's portrait.
"Gentlemen," he said, addressing the two city fellows. "Although I made introductions this morning, I know you have hardly had a moment to greet my wife, Esmeralda."
Bespectacled Westbrook grasped her hand immediately and bent over it.
"It is truly a delight to meet you, Mrs. Rhy," he said.
Simmons stepped up and took his turn. "Yes, it is a pleasure," he agreed. "Your husband brags incessantly about your knowledge and interest in trout breeding. Ben and I have both been positively virescent with envy at his good fortune in finding a wife who shares his interest."
"How could she not be interested?" Adelaide piped in with a hasty glance toward dark-haired Westbrook in the thick gold-rimmed spectacles. "Trout are such fascinating creatures, I swear I can hardly hear enough about them."
Eula Rhy nearly choked on her lemonade.
"Oh, really?" Westbrook bit the bait, turning to examine the pretty twin in pink more closely.
"Oh, yes," Agrippa agreed with her sister. "We just love to hear that fish talk."
Cleav barely managed to hide his grin as he took Esme's arm and led the conversation into the direction closest to everyone's heart—fish breeding.
Esme hardly heard a word that was said. Her mind kept tumbling over lists. What to say, what to do, how to act, how to think, and dinner. Dinner!
"Esme?" Cleav asked curiously as she hastily pulled away from him.
"I must check the food," she said and managed an extraordinarily polite request to be momentarily excused.
The okra was slightly scorched, and the corn not quite done, but the fish smelled very good, and Esme swallowed down the nausea as she carefully spooned it into the "chamber pot."
She checked everything at the table four times before deciding that she could safely invite the honored guests into the room.
"We descend to dinner," she whispered to herself. It sounded funny to her ears and she tried again. "We descend to dinner." That wasn't much better. "We descend to dinner."
She nodded approvingly to herself. That was undoubtedly it.
Stepping quietly across the foyer to the front parlor, she stopped formally at the threshold.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she spoke up distinctly, "we defend the dinner."
The twins looked up puzzled.
"Defend it from what?" Adelaide asked.
"It's time to eat," Cleav announced quickly. "Theo, why don't you escort Miss Agrippa."
Esme's face was bright red as her husband reached her side. "It smells wonderful, Hillbaby," he whispered. "And the dining room never looked prettier."
Esme nodded but couldn't quite shake the embarrassment of her foolish misquote.
Directing the gentlemen to their places, Esme regained some of her composure as she ignored dagger looks from the twins, who found themselves seated next to Eula and Pa rather than the gentlemen.
"This is certainly beautiful country. These peaks clearly take one's breath away," Theo offered politely. "Even my own Massachusetts, doesn't compare."
"It's all we've ever known," Cleav explained easily. "I spent a few years in Knoxville, but the mountains are the mountains."
