Page 124 of The Lyon Whisperer
Across the room, a throat cleared.
Feeling like a child caught stealing tarts fresh from the oven, she turned quickly.
Mr. Oliver, in his formal butler attire, hovered in the open doorway. He wore his usual neutral expression, but Amelia thought she saw a glimmer of warmth in his faded eyes.
“Lord and Lady Culver, the Earl of Fallsgate.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Amelia glanced aroundher table at her guests and allowed herself a silent moment of triumph. Her dinner, thus far, had gone off without a hitch. She looked forward to discussing the evening with her husband later.
But not yet. One course to go.
“I congratulate you on your chef,” Lady Frommer, the dowager duchess of Glastonbury, seated to her left said. “I could have dined on his sauces alone.”
“Simply delicious,” Lady Culver, the viscountess, across from Lady Frommer agreed.
Amelia preened.
Six delectable courses of seven served, all perfectly prepared, and accordingly well-received.
She sipped at her claret and ticked them off in her mind.
Course one, a luscious soupa la Julienne; course two, poached turbot and salmon with rich accompanying sauces; course three, the roast meats of lamb and duck; course four, small delectables comprised of sweetbread fricassee and pigeonen croute; course five, the savory vegetables Amelia most adored—cauliflowerau gratin, braised celery with herbs, and stewed mushrooms.
The last, course six, consisted of a salad of wintergreens, jellied calf’s foot—of which Amelia had chosen not to partake—and pickled walnuts.
Conversation around the table quieted as immaculate, liveried footmen, one of whom Amelia did not recognize, cleared away the last of the dishes. She smiled at the man encouragingly. He would be either George or James, one of two recently hired footmen, both ex-soldiers, though neither served under her husband.
The servants bustled out and two more entered—Geoffrey, carrying a silver tray laden with champagne flutes, followed by Andrew, hefting two icy bottles of champagne.
Trays of jellies andblancmange, fruit tarts and pastries, and plum pudding followed.
The ladiesoohedover the elaborately dished sweets as they were placed before them.
Across the table from her, her handsome husband was deep in conversation with Lord Selbie, the marquis, to his left, and her father, as the highest-ranking guest in attendance, to his right.
She knew, of course, the seating arrangement broke with custom. She’d taken a risk, there.
The highest-ranking lady in attendance, Lady Frommer, the dowager duchess, should have been seated beside her husband, while her father and Lord Selbie should have been near her, but that would have defeated the purpose of the evening—to bring Chase and important party members together in a social setting.
Amelia found she did not particularly care for Lord Selbie. She suspected a few moments in her company and the feeling would be mutual.
On second thought, probably not. Lord Selbie seemed more interested in hearing himself talk than in wasting time noting anyone else’s opinion. The man was too pompous and outspoken by half.
She chided herself, not for the first time. Lord Selbie was a guest whom she had invited, for pity’s sake.
The good news was, the men seemed pleased with the seating arrangements. Amelia had caught snippets of their exchanges. Most centered around the military.
Poor Lady Selbie sat quietly beside Amelia’s father, diagonally across from her husband the marquis. The petite, unprepossessing woman had said very little during the night other than to murmur her appreciation of the foods served and to ask after her husband’s enjoyment of same.
A twinge of guilt assailed Amelia for not attending to the woman. In her defense, Amelia would practically have to shout if she were to engage Lady Selbie, and she doubted Chase or her father would appreciate her efforts.
With the desserts served and the champagne poured, the din in the room quieted. Perhaps now she could draw out the marchioness. She opened her mouth only to be forestalled by Lady Frommer.
“Lady Culver, I heard a small tale concerning you.”
She addressed Amelia, but as she and the viscountess bore the same name, Lady Frommer’s question drew both of their attention, as well as Lord Culver’s, seated beside her.
