Delia picked up the stand from the center of the table and brought it closer so that it could be cut. For the longest time, she studied it while slowly rotating the cake.
“Why are you taking so long?” Lila demanded.
“I want to make certain that I am able to cut seven even slices. It’s only fair and we can’t leave one behind because it may contain the bean or the pea.” Then a slight smile graced her lips and Delia turned the plate and began to cut. They weren’t even pieces, but they were close enough. After they were placed on the dessert plates, Delia delivered one to each person at the table. The first two that were cut were delivered to Preston and Miss Claywell.
Miss Claywell settled back and watched the girls carefully study each piece of cake, searching for a bean or pea. Preston did the same, then noted that Delia wasn’t the least bit concerned and didn’t even look for either item. Further, she still held that small smile as if she held a secret.
“It’s not in mine,” Matilda said. “Nor mine,” was echoed around the table.
Delia placed her fork upon her plate. “I didn’t have either. The bean and pea must be in your pieces, Uncle Preston and Miss Claywell.”
Suspicion settled in his gut. His niece knew where they could be found, and that was why she had studied the cake for so long. Such manipulation was against the rules, yet Preston didn’t have it in him to confront her. It would ruin the evening, and Miss Claywell would not be his queen.
But how could Delia even know? The items were baked into the cake, not placed afterward, or so he assumed…unless she had spoken to Mrs. Wilson or the Cook before…
It didn’t matter. His niece had just made it possible for Preston to rule by Miss Claywell’s side and to further any courtship.
Preston carefully ate the cake until he found the bean.
Miss Claywell picked at hers and eventually came up with the pea.
“I declare thee King and Queen,” Delia exclaimed.
His nieces clapped, but Miss Claywell turned to Winifred. “I know how badly you wished to be queen.” She held the pea out to her.
“Oh no, Miss Claywell,” Winifred insisted. “That’s against the rules.”
“You aren’t upset?” Miss Claywell asked gently, concerned with the child’s feelings.
“The fun is in the finding and eating the cake. I’ll be queen one day,” Winifred promised. “But now you need to wear the crowns.”
Lila and Teddy jumped from their seats and hurried to retrieve the crowns and then place them on the heads of Preston and Miss Claywell. The other girls also rose from their seats then curtseyed.
“What is your first dictate, my king?” Matilda asked.
“Games in the parlor.”
Althea had a vague memory of a similar cake from her childhood. But when her Aunt Etta became ill, declining for several years until she passed, such entertainments disappeared. It was difficult to celebrate while she suffered. After she was gone, Uncle Clarence barely acknowledged any holiday.
Lord Melcombe rose from his seat and paused beside Althea and offered his arm as one would when escorting royalty. Given the girls expected her to play the queen, she rested her arm upon his and was led out of the room, hoping her crown did not fall.
In the parlor, Delia pulled two chairs together and declared them the thrones, upon which she and Melcombe sat. The girls then settled on the floor before them. It was all quite ridiculous, but enjoyable as well.
“What game shall we play, my king?” Theodora asked.
Melcombe seemed to give great thought to his answer. “No Hide and Seek as I don’t wish for my subject, Miss Winifred, to be further injured.”
To which Winifred giggled.
“It must be something that allows for sitting,” he pondered.
“Shades,” Lila offered.
“Possibly,” Melcombe considered.
“Spillikins,” Delia suggested.
“Yes!” Melcombe declared. “I decree that we all sit around the table and play Spillikins.”
