"Right. I, uh, appreciate good work," Ambrose said, his voice climbing an octave. "Good, professional, completely flowery gardening work."
Sasha cleared her throat, thinking she’d better dive in. "Ambrose has always been interested in horticulture, haven't you, darling?"
"Yes. Darling. Um. Right. Darling." Ambrose was now sweating visibly.
Victoria was pressing her napkin to her mouth, clearly suppressing a laugh.
"Well," Lady Alexandra continued, "I'm sure Sasha appreciates your... horticultural enthusiasm. Now then, you must tell me more about this house party where you met." She sneezed.
"Bless you, Grandmother," Victoria said.
"Thank you, dear." Lady Alexandra dabbed at her nose with her napkin, looking puzzled. "How peculiar. I've been sneezing all evening. I do hope I'm not developing an allergy to my own grandchildren."
Sophie, who was sitting next to her grandmother, went very still, and Sasha noticed her carefully avoid meeting anyone's eyes. Another sneeze echoed through the dining room.
"Perhaps we should open a window," Lady Charlotte suggested diplomatically.
"Excellent idea," Sir Archibald said, speaking for the first time since they'd sat down. "Fresh air. Very beneficial."
The conversation moved on to safer topics, the weather, the local parish news, Tiffany's latest social media venture (whichappeared to involve photographing herself with various pieces of antique furniture while discussing "authentic living"). Sasha was beginning to relax when Ambrose nearly derailed everything.
"Now then, Sasha, you must tell me more about this house party where you met. Ambrose was rather vague about the details," Ambrose’s mother said, picking up where her mother-in-law had left off.
"Oh, well, it was…" Sasha glanced at Ambrose, but he was staring off into the distance with a dreamy expression that suggested he was thinking about someone who definitely wasn't sitting at this table. "It was a friend's birthday party."
"How lovely. And whose birthday was it?"
Panic. Pure, undiluted panic. "Sarah's," Sasha said, picking the first name that came to mind.
"I thought Ambrose told me it was Marcus's party," Lady Alexandra said, suddenly snapping to attention.
"Marcus and Sarah," Sasha said quickly. "Joint birthday. Twins."
"Ah, I see. "
Sasha took a breath. She was going to have to do better than this. She wasn’t about to let Ambrose down. Not when he paid her half of the rent at least half the time. "Ambrose was the life and soul of the party, I, um, couldn’t take my eyes off him."
Lady Alexandra's eyes narrowed slightly. "How charming. Though I'm surprised he gave you the time of day. To be honest, he’s never been particularly forward. With women."
Ambrose’s eyebrows raised. "I’m a perfect gentleman," he protested.
"Yes," said Lady Alexandra, eyeing him and then interrupted herself with another sneeze.
Sasha thought she’d better try again. "It was love at first sight," she said weakly. "Um, top to toe, head over heels, that sort of thing."
"Of course it was, dear." Lady Alexandra graced her with a smile. "From his unruly hair to his little scar."
Sasha felt Ambrose go rigid beside her. Scar? What scar? Why hadn't he mentioned a scar during their practice session?
"Oh yes," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "The scar. It's very… character-building."
"Indeed. Though I must say, it's faded beautifully over the years. You can barely see it now."
Sasha nodded sagely, trying to buy time while she figured out where this mysterious scar might be located. Ambrose was making subtle gestures in her peripheral vision, but she didn't dare look directly at him.
"Right, yes," she said finally, thinking that she’d better say something. "The shoulder scar, yes. Very faded now. You can barely see it."
Ambrose made a sound like a deflating balloon.
