The room fell uncomfortably quiet. Cecily bristled in that Flavion was discussing hismistresswith hiswifeat hiswife’sdinner table. Of course, Flavion would not be bothered by the impropriety of his behavior.
Cecily was not going to let it bother her tonight, though. She sent a dazzling smile toward Flavion before answering. “Miss Cunningtoncan only be thankful your cousin came along.” After taking a leisurely spoonful of soup, she finished her statement by adding, “Or I quite likely might have drowned her.”
Another very uncomfortable silence.
Emily, most likely in an effort to bring the conversation round to a more civilized topic, interrupted the silence. “I’ve been looking forward to this evening all week.Hamletis my favorite of all of Shakespeare’s plays.” She turned toward Stephen and asked, “Were you able to attend the theatre while abroad, Mr. Nottingham?”
Glancing at Marcus before answering, Stephen shook his head. “I’m afraid I did not, Miss Goodnight. But between both Eton and Oxford, I’ve somehow managed to read almost all of the old Bard’s plays, and I must agree with you aboutHamlet. It’s one of my favorites as well.”
“There is something absolutely delicious about the treachery portrayed amongst familial relations,” Rhoda added nonchalantly, but with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Everybody mistrusting each other, husband and wife, father and son, cousins and lovers… Shakespeare managed to weave a little bit of everything into that story.”
Allowing a footman to remove the bowl in front of him, Marcus commented as well. “Art mimicking life?” He looked at Rhoda with more interest than he’d shown toward either of Cecily’s friends as of yet. “But in life, do we prefer to embrace it as a tragedy or a farce?” he asked philosophically.
“Farce,” Cecily answered.
“Tragedy,” Stephen said at the same time. And then he caught her eye and smiled sheepishly.
Cecily hoped she wasn’t blushing. How was it that a mere smile from him caused her to feel so flushed?
“I believe it is a farce when it befalls another human being, but a tragedy when it befalls oneself,” Emily offered. “Take Lord Kensington’s present physical appearance. If I were to have suffered such an attack as he most obviously has, I would consider it a definitive tragedy, but for it to have been exercised upon a man of whose fine appearance is tantamount to his existence, I cannot help but find it somewhat farcical.”
At that, Cecily was glad they were between courses, otherwise she most certainly would have choked. This was why Emily had become something of a wallflower. She completely lacked any ability to recognize which conversation was and was not acceptable in polite Society. It was part of what made her so lovable amongst her friends.
The next course was then paraded into the dining room and served up ceremoniously by all of six uniformed servants. Her guests apparently welcomed the distraction as plates of steaming salmon served with capers and a creamy sauce managed to distract Flavion from the comment Emily had made.
Cecily wondered if he knew he’d been insulted at his own table. He seemed not to; rather, instead he groused at being unable to use his injured hand. He ordered the footman over to cut his fish into bite-sized pieces.
Looking down at her own plate, Cecily pressed the edge of her fork into the tender fish, and it separated easily. So far, Cook had done very well. Cecily guessed that the prideful woman had been mortified yesterday and was doing her best to make up for it.
Taking a small bite, she felt Stephen’s eyes upon her. Amusement flared in his gaze that contradicted his otherwise solemn demeanor. But she knew.
He was laughing at Emily’s comment.
“How are you feeling tonight?” Marcus turned toward Flavion. “You seem to be recovering quickly enough from your harrowing experience. Do you think you’ll be up to attending the theatre?”
Flavion scooped one of his carefully sliced pieces of fish onto a spoon. “I’m right enough… I’m not going to be frightened away from living my life, Marcus, but that’s probably something you wouldn’t understand. Oh, yes, both you and Stephen left London for a rather long period of time. Explain to me the difference between hiding at home and running away to live in another country.”
Oh heavens! Cecily smiled brightly at the first footman. “Peters, could you please bring out the white wine? I think it will complement the salmon brilliantly.”
Looking flustered, he nodded. “Of course, my lady,” he said and left quickly.
“This sauce is simply sinful,” she added in an attempt to get past Flavion’s slight to both Lord Blakely and his cousin.
Stephen scowled at Flavion, as did Lord Blakely. Rhoda grinned at her entrée. Emily grimaced painfully toward Cecily. Even Emily was aware that this conversation was not exactly normal.
“Lord Blakely,” Rhoda interjected. “How did you come to be acquainted with Mr. Nottingham? Did you meet during your travels?”
“We’ve been close mates since school, of course,” Lord Blakely said cordially, “but came to know each other even better during his engagement to my sister.”
Stephen stiffened, compressing his lips with a soft grunt, and Cecily would swear he suppressed a groan. This was obviously not one of his favorite subjects. If they, by the grace of God, managed to make it all the way through this dinner without two or more of the participants breaking out into fisticuffs, she would be surprised. And grateful. She would be ever so grateful.
Judging by the expression on Lord Blakely’s face, Cecily realized that it must have beenhissister who had caused the rift between Stephen and his cousin all those years ago. And apparently, Lord Blakely did not appear to have been happy with Flavion’s treatment of the lady in question.
“And how is Lady Corinne?” Flavion asked Lord Blakely.
“Lady Corinne is now Lady Hartley, and she fares very well, thank you, at her husband’s principal seat near Surrey.”
“Does your sister have any children?” Rhoda asked, apparently gleeful in the undercurrents traveling between Flavion and Lord Blakely.
