“Me too,” she says brightly. “Now, Mother’s had dinner waiting for over an hour, so we shouldn’t keep her...”
Meredith trails off and Bobby releases her hands to follow her line of sight. Lady Harrington is fawning over Demeroven, adjusting his lapels and going on about how he’s bound to make a killing in the marriage mart. Beth and Gwen stand off to theside, hands over their mouths to keep from laughing at Demeroven’s beet-red face.
“Oh dear,” Meredith mumbles. “She’s been so excited for this visit, and you’ve brought her entirely fresh meat.”
Bobby turns a laugh into a cough and Albie chuckles into Meredith’s hair. “I suppose we should save him,” Albie says.
“Before she adopts him as her new son-in-law, I think,” Bobby agrees.
Meredith sighs when they make absolutely no move to step in. It’s not that he wants Demeroven to suffer, but Lady Harrington can be a bit... much, and it’s nice, for a moment, to have her attention turned elsewhere. And Demeroven’s blush is absolutely darling.
Of course, she notices Demeroven looking at Bobby beseechingly, and his reprieve is short-lived.
“Come, let me have a look at you,” Lady Harrington says, her melodic voice a booming command that bounces around the two-story foyer.
He can hear Albie still snickering as he girds himself and steps forward to submit to Lady Harrington’s appraisal.
She takes his hands, much like Meredith did. “You have grown,” she says, looking him up and down.
“I suppose,” Bobby agrees with a smile. He always gets the feeling Lady Harrington can see straight through absolutely anyone with those blue-gray eyes. “And how are you, Lady Harrington?”
“I am delighted to have all these wonderful young people here to stay for the week, but famished. Come, come, all of you, into the dining room.”
Bobby lets her take his arm, walking her down the hall still decorated with his late father’s favorite sailing-scapes and then into the grand dining room. The long, narrow, lacquered oaktable is set for a full dinner service, with high tapers and bright floral arrangements. Much more festive than anything they ever had while his father was alive.
But he’s thinking about his father too much, when he really should be paying attention to the seating. Lady Harrington leaves him halfway down the table to make her way regally to the head, which suits him just fine. He knows Albie would rather sit in the kitchen than take the head seat.
But that cedes the arrangements to Lady Harrington, who demands Beth and Gwen sit to either side of her, so she can get all the best gossip. Albie hurries to help Lady Harrington get seated. Meredith steps up beside Gwen, forcing Bobby and Demeroven to sit opposite one another, with no hope of interrupted eyelines.
Bobby goes to help Meredith into her chair, leaving Gwen beside her to her own devices. Meredith bats his hands away and pushes herself in, giving him a look.
“I am perfectly capable of normal tasks.”
Bobby withholds a laugh, watching Demeroven race to try and push in Beth before she can do it herself. “See? It’s only polite.”
“Well, Demeroven needs to make a good impression. We already know and adore you,” Meredith says under her breath while she smiles at Demeroven.
Beth pushes herself in before Demeroven can, and Gwen snorts on Meredith’s other side. Demeroven slinks back to his seat, thwarted.
“Be nice,” Bobby finds himself saying.
Demeroven sits primly, listening attentively around Albie as Beth and Gwen fill Lady Harrington in on their work at the Foundling Hospital. He actually looks like he fits there, which does something very funny to Bobby’s stomach.
Even though the soup Mr. Brile and Mr. Canton bring out ishis favorite—potato and leek, with the most delicious crusted bread—he finds he’s barely able to manage a few spoonfuls. He didn’t expect that seeing Demeroven at his family table would feel like this—like a puzzle piece that may have just fallen perfectly into place. How ridiculous.
“I heard that Prous and Eloise were caught at the Yokely tea in the hedges,” Meredith says, pulling Bobby from his maudlin thoughts.
“How?” he demands. “You weren’t even there.”
“Oh, but Annabeth was,” Meredith says wickedly.
“Her mother was ready to kill her,” Gwen says with some delight. “But I think it had the desired effect of getting Prous’ father to finally agree to all the terms.”
“So it was premeditated?” Lady Harrington wonders.
“It seems so,” Beth says.
“How clever,” Lady Harrington says.
