“I believe poor Pudgy passed on shortly after this portrait was painted,” observed Judith.
Adalyn’s keen hearing caught the merest hint of a choked snort from Trick. She gulped, and attempted sympathy. “How sad. But a wonderful remembrance. You must be very proud of your lineage, Sir Amery. To be able to trace it back so far…”
“Well,” he tried to look modest. “One does what one can to keep the name going.”
“Indeed,” she nodded.
What he was about to say, she had no idea, but the gleam that had entered his eyes when speaking of keeping the line going was enough to warn her she might not like it. Fortunately, the butler chose that moment to appear with a small gong.
“Sir Amery,” the man bowed. “Dinner is served.”
“Very good. Thank you Wandsworth.”
Although Trick moved toward Adalyn, she shook her head at him. She wanted to make an obvious point of her injury without alienating anyone, and Trick’s readiness to sweep her into his arms might be a little too much for this moment.
So she slowly made her way with the help of her cane and Sir Amery’s arm. Since she was planning on leaving as soon as she could, she felt it was the least she could do to maintain an illusion of politeness and courtesy.
She allowed him to seat her, smiling her thanks, grateful that a smaller table had been set, and the three of them were able to converse comfortably and not avoid either overflowing épergnes or massive candelabras.
However, the meal itself conformed to the Fairhurst theme of overabundance.
Adalyn, a modest eater at best, found herself merely tasting the soup course, since the joints of meat were already appearing, along with an assortment of vegetables. Two servants were kept busy with various serving platters.
The stewed beef steaks smelled most appetising, shining beneath a rich gravy and supplemented with mushrooms. Sir Amery did justice to that dish, tucking in as if he’d not eaten in a week. But Adalyn couldn’t forget Evan’s perfect meals, where each course was fresh, tasty and modest.
This dinner was none of the above. She shook her head at the beef steaks.
Nevertheless, she did her best, trying a little of this and a little of that, until the plates were cleared to make way for the next course—partridges, fresh filleted fish, salmon pie and other assorted savouries.
When the sweet arrived, she realised it must have taken them at least two hours to work through all the food. She could barely look at the syllabub.
Judith, she noted, had exercised similar restraint; merely picking at various dishes and waving away most of those presented to her.
However, Adalyn remained complimentary and as gracious as possible, even when Sir Amery’s conversation grew prying and he began to ask leading questions about Wolfbridge.
She deflected most of his pointed inquiries by sipping her wine. “Forgive me, Sir Amery, but I am still learning much about Wolfbridge. Not having managed such a large establishment before, I depend on my estate manager for most of the information you seek.” She widened her eyes, trying for an innocent demeanour. “I’m sure Daniel wouldn’t mind sitting down with you, if these facts are absolutely necessary…”
“Oh no, my dear. I was just wondering how Wolfbridge is faring. This past year has been quite an awful one, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“Indeed,” she nodded. And sipped more wine.
It struck her that if he kept this up, she might well find herself somewhat bosky at the end of the meal, not to mention fat as a flawn.
Fortunately, before she exploded, the last dish was served, and Judith looked across the table. “I believe we might enjoy a cup of tea?”
“What a lovely thought.” She turned to Sir Amery. “With your permission, Sir? Although I can’t see leaving you alone with your port. Perhaps you could join us? I shall have to leave before too long and it would be ungracious of me to withdraw without your presence.”
He smiled, a feral grin that set her teeth on edge. “I cannot refuse you anything, my dear.” He rose. “By all means. Tea in the parlour.”
Adalyn was a tiny bit unnerved by that look, and turned to beckon Trick. He was there in an instant, picking her up gently. “If you would follow Sir Amery, please,” she said calmly.
“Yes, my Lady.” Trick was the ideal servant. Quiet and instantly obeying his mistress’s directions.
She prayed he’d be able to remain in the parlour.
“Here we are,” said Sir Amery, leading them inside. “I think this chair would be to your liking, Lady Adalyn.” He pointed to the one next to the fire, and Trick carried her over, depositing her gently on the cushions.
“Thank you,” she nodded.
