Torquatus pursed his lips but gave a curt nod to Vesta. She released the decanter and slipped back into the kitchen.
“You don’t mind, do you, Squire Torquatus?” Cassian inquired even as he set the decanter on his far side.
The squire cleared his throat and raised his glass to us. “Not at all. On the contrary, I wish to give a toast. To a long and happy marriage.”
Cassian’s eyes twinkled as he raised his glass to me. “I couldn’t agree more.”
I blushed under his bold proclamation, but lifted my glass. We chinked and sipped, and Mrs. Arvina brought out the chicken. The scent of herbs and spices filled the air, and the bird was practically bursting with potatoes and carrots. She set the platter down in front of our host and stepped back, her face a picture of pride.
Torquatus took up the long knife that lay on the platter and poked at the bird. Juice poured out of its salted flesh and smothered the vegetables that surrounded the bird. “This seems rather a great deal of food for so few people.”
“I thought we might give them something for the road tomorrow,” Mrs. Arvina told him.
Torquatus’ left eye twitched, but he managed to keep a frozen smile on his face. “I see. Thank you, Mrs. Arvina.” His eyes darted to her and narrowed slightly. “That will be all.”
Her smile was unchanged as she curtsied and left us. We cut into the bird, and all its fixings, and the meal was as delicious as it smelled. Cassian was liberal with the wine, and though it wasn’t the best I’d ever had, it went well with the bird.
Thirty happy minutes of eating, and I was as stuffed as the main course. I leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Wow. You need to give Mrs. Arvina a raise.”
A little color left our host’s cheeks, and his eye twitched again. “I will be sure to consider it, Mrs. Holt.”
Cassian poured out the last of the wine into his cup and held it aloft to our host. “To our very generous host. May your rooms never have another bug in them.”
Torquatus’ smile faltered, but he raised his glass. “Y-yes, quite so.”
The men finished their glasses just as the kitchen door opened. Vesta came out with a small tray in her hands. There were three pudding cups, all filled to the brim with chocolate treats. Little bits of chocolate stuck out of the top.
Torquatus narrowed his eyes at the treats as Vesta proudly set one in front of each of us. “This seems rather lumpier than usual.”
A little color drained from her face. Vesta stepped back and pressed the tray tightly against her front. “I-I thought perhaps you would like some extra flavor.”
Torquatus wrapped his hand around his napkin and twisted the poor cloth in his grip. “My servants are ever thoughtful this evening.” Vesta’s hands began to shake.
Cassian took up his pudding cup and spoon and toasted its creator. “Thank you for giving this evening a more pleasant memory than how it began.”
Our host winced and quickly took up his dessert. “Yes! May we forevermore forget the horrible beginning, and only think of these wonderful memories.”
We dug into our cups, and my eyes lit up. “This is delicious!”
“The best I have ever tasted,” Cassian chimed in.
Vesta blushed and bowed her head to us before slipping back into the kitchen. I noticed Torquatus watch her leave with one cold eye. We consumed our desserts, and only smudges remained in all our cups.
“And that is a grand finish to the evening,” Cassian spoke up as he set his glass on the table.
Torquatus leaned toward Cassian, and his eager eyes studied his guest. “Do you have any plans for the remaining hours of the day?”
“Bed,” Cassian informed him as he set his napkin on the table. “We have some miles to travel tomorrow, and there are even more at our backs, and a good night’s rest will work a more potent magic than anything out of a cauldron.” The squire’s face was a picture of pouting disappointment as Cassian stood and caught my eye. “Shall we?”
“Definitely,” I agreed as I, too, rose.
Torquatus stood and inclined his head to us. “Then I thank you for this enjoyable evening, and bid you a goodnight.”
We exchanged our farewells, and Cassian and I strolled out of the room. An old grandfather clock, the poor thing nestled between a half dozen of those maps, showed the hour to be nearly nine o’clock. My feet felt heavier at the reveal of the hour.
I jumped when Cassian looped an arm around my waist. “You look as though you need some support.”
“And about ten hours of sleep,” I added as we trudged up the stairs.
