‘No! Too full of himself by half,’ said Hannah, scowling as he looked across the table at her. He shot her a mocking glare as if he knew exactly what she’d said and she wished she dared glare back at him but she didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself. Instead, she ignored him and studiously addressed herself to her food, except it was impossible. She couldn’t help herself sneaking the odd look his way and every damn time he caught her.
Mind you, Fliss seemed to be having a lovely time, tossing her blonde hair and shooting him lots of flirtatious smiles. Conor, of course, lapped it up. But then he would – Hannah knew now what he was like. An arrogant so and so. He’d clearly assumed she was another groupie – the big-headed idiot – who knew he was famous.
The first course was a chilled tomato soup with a light hint of spice and a trace of sharpness, served with lovely rustic bread with large, glossy holes in it. Hannah had to admit, given the choice, she wouldn’t have chosen cold soup in a million years, but it was delicious.
‘This gazpacho is to die for,’ said Meredith with loud enthusiasm that made everyone around the table break off conversation and look up.
‘I adore gazpacho and this is as good as any I’ve tasted in Barcelona,’ agreed Fliss.
Hannah had never tasted gazpacho before and she was quite surprised by how good it tasted for cold tomato soup.
‘I can taste garlic and—’ Alan started to say, holding up a spoonful of his soup and sniffing.
‘Tomatoes?’ suggested Jason with a snigger.
‘It’s a lovely, simple recipe. One of Conor’s.’ Adrienne nodded to her son. ‘Perhaps you can share the ingredients.’
‘Tomatoes, of course,’ Conor inclined his head towards Jason, ‘garlic, olive oil, red wine vinegar, seasoning all blended together and then I add very finely chopped green pepper.’
‘Ah, it’s the green pepper I can taste,’ said Alan. ‘I knew there was something.’
‘And that piquancy comes from the red wine vinegar,’ said Meredith happily. ‘It’s just lovely.’
They all cast admiring glances his way as each of them took another mouthful of the soup, pulling careful tasting faces. Hannah almost laughed out loud. Unfortunately, she couldn’t deny that his soup was sublime – not that she’d have given him the satisfaction. There was no way she was feeding Conor Byrne’s massive ego any more.
The next course was brought in by Bridget and Mairead: medallions of pork in a cream and apple-brandy sauce served on a big oval platter followed by tureens of jewel-bright vegetables, peas, broccoli, kale, and an enamel tray of deliciously crisp roast potatoes.
Everyone fell upon the tender pork with sighs of delight and approval. Hannah thought if they were going to eat like this every night, once the course was over she was going to have to live on salad until Christmas.
‘This is the best pork I’ve ever tasted,’ said Jason, waving his fork in the air.
Adrienne smiled. ‘This is one of our Large Blacks. They’re a heritage breed which we farm here. When we cover pork on the course we’ll talk more about breeds.’
Jason frowned and looked thoughtful. ‘Does it really make much difference?’
Adrienne looked at his plate. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s blood— dead good.’
She nodded as if she’d made her point. Hannah realised that Adrienne was a born teacher with a real passion for food, a bit like Mina. There was an authenticity about her. She really believed in all this stuff. Hannah still wasn’t convinced, but Adrienne certainly knew a lot; hopefully Hannah might absorb some of her teaching and knowledge by osmosis.
As everyone relaxed during the meal, the conversation began to flow along with the wine but Hannah, mindful of Adrienne’s admonishment that hangovers were no excuse for lateness, decided to swap to water. After not a lot of sleep the night before, she was starting to flag.
Was it really this time last night that she’d been having dinner with Conor? Was it only this morning she’d snuck out of his bed? It felt like a lifetime ago and as if it had happened to another person. Now she regretted it with all her heart. What on earth had she been thinking?
A little voice inside her reminded her that she hadn’t been thinking at all – she’d been feeling and going with it.And it was rather nice, if you recall, the voice reminded her with ill-disguised glee.
Stupidly she looked up and over at Conor, who caught her. He raised a brow and she blushed as X-rated memories of last night flooded into her head. Conor kissing her, Conor removing her bra with smooth expertise, Conor making her… nope not going there. She clamped down on the thoughts and glared at him. He glared back and she uttered a quick prayer that the summons to these family meals didn’t happen very regularly. If he was out working on the estate and she was in the kitchen all day, she could pretend that what happened in Dublin had stayed there.
As far as she was concerned, she never wanted to see him again.
Chapter Six
‘Oh what a lovely touch,’ cried Meredith the following morning, immediately tugging her apron over her head. Her name was embroidered in shocking pink on the dark-blue bib.
‘Hmm,’ said Fliss, looking with displeasure at the wordFelicity, picked out in lime green on orange cotton.
‘Bit poncy, if you ask me,’ muttered Jason, but he looked relieved that his name was featured in white on black.
