Boy, they must be hungry.
Then again, I was the only one who went for seconds on the scones.
This meant two unfortunate things occurred next.
One, Battle offered me his arm (likely not wanting me tripped or to swoon again), and so I wouldn’t appear ungracious, I was forced to take it.
And two happened when we walked next door, to a dining room papered in gold damask with cream wainscotting and a large, oval, luscious African mahogany table dressed in a stunning candelabra, the candles flickering, more beautiful but unique floral arrangements, and five place settings of crystal, fine china and silver cutlery cuddled at one end.
This wasn’t what was unfortunate.
What was unfortunate was that Chastity was already seated to the left of the head of the table, Temperance next to her. And on the opposite side, Prudence sat at a setting that left only the head of the table and the seat right next to it open.
And this meant I’d be sitting directly to Battle’s right.
Marvelous.
Things got worse when Battle demonstrated more gallantry by helping with my seat.
“Thank you,” I murmured, setting my drink down and tucking my bag in my lap.
“My pleasure,” he purred while taking his own seat.
I hoped the boob tape I was forced to use to pull off this dress held up as that part of my anatomy reacted to his words.
Ugh.
Kill me.
As I put my napkin over my bag in my lap (and made note none of the other ladies had them), in came Fitzgibbons with a bottle of wine wrapped in linen, and Scotty with a soup tureen.
“Did you ever meet your great-grandfather, Charlie?” Chastity spoke directly to me for the first time by whisper-asking this while Fitzgibbons filled our white wine glasses and we served ourselves soup (creamy prawn and crab bisque, it smelled delicious).
“No, he died before I was born,” I told her. “Though, he lived a long life. And my mom adored him.”
“Obviously, he married,” Temperance said. “Did you know your great-grandmother?”
I shook my head and spooned into the soup I’d placed into the bowl over my gold charger. “She was still alive when I was born, and I’m told I met her, but I was too young to remember.”
“Harmony never married,” Chastity whispered forlornly to her soup.
“And good for her she didn’t,” Temperance stated firmly. “Serves Saint right to be robbed of more progeny after breaking his own daughter’s heart.”
“Yes, but perhaps she was lonely,” Prudence said, performing a miracle since what she said made me shift focus from my delicious soup to her at my side.
She didn’t look upset, just earnest and into the conversation.
“There isn’t a female alive who needs a man,” Temperance retorted.
At that, I turned to Battle to watch his reaction to this statement, however, what I saw was that it had no effect on him.
Though he, too, liked the soup.
“But maybe she wanted one,” Prudence suggested.
“We all want something from them, darling,” Temperance drawled. “But once that’s had, the rest of what they have to offer is superfluous.”
At that, Battle stopped sipping his soup and smiled indulgently at his eldest sister.
