“Yes. I hope to be more involved now that—” She paused.Now that my husband is dead,felt too blunt. “Now I’m able to dedicate more time to the cause.”
“That’s admirable.” Lord William lifted his spoon. A single pea balanced precariously in the bowl. “To face your pain in order to help others who are suffering. You must have really loved your husband?—”
He gestured with the spoon for emphasis.
The pea launched.
Margaret watched, frozen, as the tiny green projectile arced through the air in a perfect trajectory. It landed—impossibly, spectacularly—directly in the cleavage of the woman seated beside Lord William.
Time seemed to stop.
Margaret’s throat closed. Laughter bubbled up, dangerous and wholly inappropriate. She pressed her napkin to her mouth, pretending to dab at nothing while fighting desperately not to make a sound.
The woman went perfectly still. Her eyes widened. Just slightly. Barely noticeable unless you were watching, like Margaret.
The woman’s gaze darted around the table. Checking. Calculating. Determining that no one else had witnessedthe Pea Incident.
She left it where it had landed.
Margaret’s throat closed. She pressed her napkin to her mouth. Don’t look. Don’t look at?—
She looked right.
Dashwood was staring at his plate, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. He’d seen it.
Their eyes met. His were dancing.
Her lips twitched. His mouth pressed into a firm line.
That made it worse.
Margaret grabbed her water and gulped. She looked at her plate. Heard Henry pick up his wine glass, drink, and set it down too hard, hand shaking.
Oh no.
Lord William droned on. “…widows carry such burdens…
A sound escaped Henry. Half cough, half death rattle.
Margaret bit her lip hard. The pea remained in the woman’s bosom, cozy and unaware. She pressed her napkin to her mouth. Her shoulders shook.
Beside her, Dashwood had gone completely still. They couldn’t look at each other again.
Mrs. Patterson reached for her wine. The pea shifted.
Margaret squeaked. Tried to turn it into a cough. Failed.
Dashwood drank more wine.
“Lady Margaret, are you quite alright?” Lord William asked.
“Fine. The soup was very peppery.”
“I didn’t notice any pepper.”
“Subtle pepper.”
Henry’s shoulders shook.
