The table was dressed more fastidiously and fashionably than Lise herself.It could seat fourteen comfortably, but tonight held four exquisite place settings of the good silver that her mother had brought to the von Ostenfeld marriage, lying atop their finest pure white damask table cloth.
Down the center ran a long narrow decorative linen runner of embroidered blue flowers with green leaves, and atop it were silver candlesticks sporting brand new candles, not yet lit, and two vases of flowers.An impressive fresh fruit pyramid rested in the very center.
Lise couldn’t help smiling at the joyful appearance of the room.Until she remembered that the fourth setting wasn’t for Henrik.The crisply folded linen napkin, the delicate crystal wine glass her father had bought from Bohemia, and the finest Meissen porcelain charger and plate, ready for the first course, were for Lord Jonathan Bowen.
She let out a long sigh.
“You look lovely,” her mother said, having come up behind her.Yet when Lise turned, she frowned.“Are you feverish?Your color is very high.”
“I am well.”Lise smoothed her skirts.“May I help with anything?”
“All is in hand.Your father just entered the drawing room, probably tasting theklarer Brunnento make sure it doesn’t have too much raspberry syrup.Also, there’s beer from Panker.Perhaps you might —”
The sound of Hans welcoming their guest into the front hall made Lise’s heart lurch uncomfortably.
“Ah,” her mother said, eyes gleaming with interest as the longcase clock in the hall struck six.“Punctual.I do appreciate that in a man.”
Lise did not trust herself to speak.
She and her mother went to greet Jonathan while Hans took his hat and gloves.Jonathan wore a coat of charcoal superfine over a waistcoat of dove-grey silk.His cravat was immaculate, and his boots were polished to a mirror shine.He appeared every inch the nobleman, and nothing like a surveyor who rode upon a horse most of the day or scrabbled about the hillsides making notes.
But he certainly appeared tempting enough to be the man who would press a willing woman against a wall and make her forget her own name.
“Lord Bowen,” her mother said warmly, sweeping forward.“How good of you to join us.”
Jonathan bowed over her hand.“The kindness is all on your side,gnädige Frau, and the honor is solely upon mine.I am grateful for the invitation.”
His gaze found Lise’s.Held.Something passed between them again — that same silent recognition, heavy with memory.
“Miss von Ostenfeld.”His voice was steady, polite.Only the faint tightness around his eyes betrayed anything beneath the surface.“You are well, I trust?”
She managed a curtsy.“Quite well, thank you, my lord.”
Her father emerged from the drawing room at the sound of their voices.“Are you all thinking of staying in the hall?Why do we have a home with so many rooms then?”
With that, he stepped aside and gestured with his arm for the three of them to enter.
“Excellent, excellent!”her father said.“I admit I am amazed at the state of your dress, Lord Bowen.”
Jonathan frowned, looking down to see if anything was amiss.“I don’t take your meaning, sir.”
Lise’s mother laughed.“Herr von Ostenfeld is remarking on how you appear as though you’ve stepped out of a carriage in the center of Lübeck or Hamburg.Given your particular interest, traversing the land on horseback, you can understand his amazement.Although,” and here she sent her husband a warning glance, “he should not have mentioned anything.”
They all laughed, apart from Lise, who found nothing funny in the current situation.No more was said about how fine Jonathan looked.Obviously, the bailiff in Eutin had staff capable of dressing him and shining his boots.
Then her mother began her hostess duties in earnest.“Would you like a glass of our glorious well water with raspberry syrup, my lord, or are you in the mood forSommerbier?”
“I am aware of the purity of the area’s aquifers,” Jonathan said.“I would like to taste the ...klarer Brunnen, don’t you call it?”
“Indeed, we do,” her mother said, smiling broadly that he knew so much.
Soon, they were all seated in front of the fire that had been lit in anticipation of a cooler evening.Lise, feeling at sixes and sevens, drank the summer beer and remained mostly quiet.Even light as the drink was, she hoped it would settle her nerves, or make her stop caring that this man was rattling her beyond reason.
“Will you be mapping the Dodau Forest?”her father inevitably asked.
Jonathan shrugged easily, like a man used to deflecting questions.“Maybe.I’m not sure it’s relevant to my assignment.”
“My children know it as though it were their own back garden,” her father boasted.
