Page 49 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
It was beautiful. She didn’t think she had seen a finer table setting anywhere.
She felt another stab of excitement, as she and Amy sat down in their places. It was about seeing Jasper, of course, but it was also about doing this: having the freedom to dress up and host a dinner party and make it special.
Gilbert had stopped taking her to any engagements in the last years of their marriage, but they had also stopped entertaining anyone at The Willows, too. Whenever she suggested it, he had snarled at her, saying that no one would want to come here. She had not hosted a dinner or held a party in a long, long time.
She had forgotten whatfunit was to plan a social event. To think about the menu and the guests and the table setting, making sure that everything was exactly the way that she wanted.
I can do this again, she thought, in wonder.If I am with Jasper, we can entertain and go out. I can live again.
The taste of freedom was intoxicating.
The door opened, and David Bragg walked in, pulling at the sleeve of his jacket nervously. She turned around, staring at him, slightly shocked, even though she knew she had no reason to be.
He was wearing Gilbert’s clothes; she had sent them to him and Jasper, knowing that they would have no formal attire. She had thought that she was fine with it – they were only clothes, after all. And Gilbert had never been especially attached to them. There was a whole wardrobe crammed with them upstairs, all expensive, made by the best tailors in London. He had so many that there were some clothes in that wardrobe that her late husband had never even worn.
And yet, it was still a shock to see another man wearing attire that she had last seen on her husband.
They were too big for David Bragg’s frame; she noticed he had rolled up the sleeves of the jacket, and the britches. The shoulders of the jacket were too broad, as well, almost swamping the apprentice. But he had made a good effort, his corn-coloured hair slicked back, no longer sticking out in tufts all over his head, as it usually was.
He gazed at them expectantly.
Susannah jumped. She was being rude, lost in reverie. Not what a good hostess did, at all.
“David,” she said, standing up and smiling widely. “How wonderful. Please, if you will sit down …” She gestured to the seat opposite her, next to Amy.
He did as he was told, taking the seat, smiling nervously at both of them. Amy had turned in her seat and was smiling warmly at him.
There was an awkward silence for a moment.
Susannah felt a fluttering of nerves, questioning herself. Had she made a mistake, insisting on this being so formal? It seemed to be making everyone ill at ease. When they had all dined together, just days ago, it had been more casual, and the conversation had flowed easily.
She picked up her glass of wine, addressing them. “I hope you both enjoy this wine. I found the last bottle of it at the bottom of the cellar, hidden away.” She paused. “It is a good year, from the Bordeaux region, in France. A rare gem. I do not think there are many bottles of it in circulation …”
She took a deep breath, pulling herself up. She knew that she was prattling.
But both Amy and David picked up their glasses, taking a sip.
“It is wonderful,” said Amy, smiling. “A most exceptional wine.”
“I must admit I know little about wine,” said David. “I have not had the chance to experience many … not of good quality, anyway.”
Susannah smiled kindly. “What is your background, David? Are you a Shropshire native?”
He nodded, taking another sip of his wine. “Born and bred in Shrewsbury, madam, although I was an orphan from a young age.” He smiled. “I survived any way I could, and when I was seventeen, I was lucky enough to get a job helping a farrier.”
“That is why Mr Stone apprenticed you?” asked Amy.
He nodded again. “I would say so. He wanted someone who already had a feel for horses. It’s hard to work with them if you don’t understand the animals.”
“Where did you meet him?” asked Susannah. She leaned forward eagerly, across the table. She wanted to hear stories about Jasper; it made her feel closer to him, somehow.
David smiled. “He was in Shrewsbury one day,” he said slowly. “He stopped at the stall by chance, as the horse he was riding had a stone in its hoof. He needed it fixed immediately.”
Susannah nodded encouragingly.
“I was helping the horse smith,” he continued. “He had stepped out for a moment, so I shod the horse. Mr Stone talked to me in a friendly manner, asking how old I was and what I wanted to do … if I wanted to stay working for the farrier or had ambitions for something else …”
Amy smiled. “And did you?”
