It took a while. He’d never seen so many strangers. He’d had no idea Papa was this important. His funeral had drawn what looked like half of the capital to their home.
As soon as Arden spotted someone he actually knew, he directed his steps over to join him.
Talbot was a neighbouring squire, a gruff and impatient alpha in his forties whom Arden had only spoken to on a handful of occasions. The alpha had been frowning around the room, as out of place in his plain country clothes amongst the glittering crowd as Arden felt. When he saw Arden, he smoothed out his expression, startled Arden with a firm, pleasant greeting, and suggested that he stick close by.
Arden accepted the small glass of sherry Talbot offered him, and was even more startled and grateful when Talbot positioned himself with his bulk between Arden and majority of the room before launching into an excessively dull monologue on the importance of crop rotation to maximise harvests.
Arden did his best to keep up, although he had very little to add. He didn’t know the first thing about crops.
Thankfully, Talbot directed most of his conversation to the two other local landowners with him, both of whom had also frowned at Arden before blocking him from the rest of the room.
They blocked him so well that Arden didn’t see Jack arrive.
He had no idea Jack was even there until he was seated for dinner, and even then, it took some time for Arden to register it, since he was busy reeling at where he was seated.
Practically at the head of the table.
The footman guiding him to his chair almost had to poke him to get him to sit down. In the end, Hodge had hissed in his ear, “Sir,sit. His Lordship was very clear that this was to be your seat.”
His Lordship. Lassit. Not Papa.
“Are you certain?” Arden had hissed back, glancing up into Hodge’s tight face.
Hodge had pressed his lips together and nodded, then sent a look of distaste at the head of the table, where Lassit was already lounging. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” Arden sat gingerly. He shot a nervous look over at Lassit, expecting to be removed and shuffled down to the bottom of the table, only to find that Lassit was watching him again. He was smiling.
Lassit lifted his glass in a toast.
Unsure what else to do, Arden returned the toast with an awkward nod.
Then he saw familiar black eyes watching him steadily from across the vast, laden table, and…and he couldn’t help it.
He lit up.
Jack.
Jack’s eyes widened a fraction before his gaze slid away and he began talking to the woman at his side, who wasalsostaring at Arden. She was another stranger.
In fact…
Apart from his family, the servants, and Jack, everyone here was a stranger.
Talbot was gone, as were the other locals. Arden thought that maybe he recognised a couple of the guests as friends or business associates of Lassit’s, although he’d never been allowed to meet them and so couldn’t be sure.
It was the longest and oddest meal of his life.
No one talked to him.
No one even tried.
Everyone stared at him.
Everyone except Jack, whose eye Arden tried in vain to catch again. The vast table between them and the noise in the roomwould make it impossible for them to talk, but he’d at least like to smile his hello.
If Jack would just look back at him.
He didn’t.
