Sofia slid from the stool and rushed across to speak to the girl. 'I'm glad you enjoyed it. We must continue your piano lessons, Annabel, you might not play as well as us but you have a definite feel for music.'
'Fiddlesticks to that! I like to listen, I love to dance, but I've no interest in either singing or playing.' She turned and appealed to him directly. 'I beg you, James, not to insist that I continue doing something that I so dislike.'
'As long as you behave, I care not how you occupy your time. I believe I heard the clock striking six a few moments ago. Dinner might or might not be served. Shall we investigate?'
He waited for them to lead the way as was polite but they remained where they were looking expectantly in his direction. 'Dammit, I've yet to show you around the house as I promised. Come, we dine in the breakfast parlour unless there are guests.'
He strode ahead and they followed without comment. He took them through the central doors, not to the far end, as these opened into the main dining room.
'Good heavens, that table would seat fifty. How ridiculous,' Sofia exclaimed.
'Ridiculous? Why do you think that?'
'I cannot think of any occasion when one would want to entertain so many to dinner.' She turned to Annabel. 'If you go to the far end of the table I shall remain here and then I'll demonstrate why I think it ridiculous.'
James stood by and watched with amusement, he knew exactly what she intended to do and he'd often thought a table this large was preposterous and the amount of food and wine needed to feed so many was equally nonsensical.
Sofia waited until her friend was standing where she directed. Then she pulled out a chair and sat down indicating that Annabel do the same.
'Miss Sinclair, have you had a pleasant stroll around the park this afternoon?'
She spoke in a normal tone and the girl at the far end obviously couldn't hear her.
Laughing, Sofia yelled the same question and this time Annabel nodded.
'I think you've made your point, young lady, and I don't think you need to yell at Annabel along the length of my dining room table a second time.' He spoke firmly but she knew he was amused not annoyed.
She jumped to her feet laughing up at him and it took all his willpower not to reach out and pull her close, demonstrate by his kiss how he felt.
'I beg your pardon, most unladylike. But then we both know that I'm no lady.' She tossed her head and fluttered her eye lashes and he laughed.
'You're an unprincipled baggage; I can see that the sooner you remove yourself to Hilltop House the more comfortable I shall be.'
In good spirits the three of them left the dining room and walked along the passage way to the breakfast parlour.
'Now, does this meet your approval, Miss Brotherton?'
'Indeed, it does, my lord, a sideboard upon which one could put twenty dishes, a table that seats the same number, what is there to complain about?'
Annabel was looking puzzled by this exchange and he hoped she remained unaware that Sofia had become so much more than a ward to him.
'The table's laid but in such a manner that we'll still be obliged to shout at each other in order to hold a conversation. Annabel, let's move things so the three of us are sitting together at one end.'
She didn't ask for his permission and James stood back and let them do as they pleased. As he'd not sat at this table with anyone else for the past nine years, having company of any sort was a novelty to him wherever they sat.
Suddenly he was no longer amused. Where were the footmen who should be waiting to assist? Where were the condiments and other necessities essential for dinner? The sideboard was empty. This would not do. Foster had assured him that the house would run smoothly without the housekeeper but had failed miserably already to keep his promise.
He strode across to the bell-strap and pulled it. The girls exchanged a glance and then quietly took their seats. This enraged him further – a servant should have been in the room pulling out their chairs and shaking out their napkins on their laps.
James remained on his feet. A full minute after he'd rung – far longer than was acceptable – two footmen arrived at the door.
They skidded to a halt when they saw him.
'Mrs Bedford told us that dinner had been delayed until seven o'clock, my lord, that's why we weren't here, why things aren't as they should be,' one stammered.
'I see, then the fault isn't yours. We are ready to eat, is the kitchen ready to serve us?'
The one who'd spoken nodded violently and his half wig slipped forward over one eye. 'It is, my lord, Cook will be relieved to serve it now.'
