Page 38 of Map of a Lady's Heart
“Anda surprise,” chirped her sister Grace. “The best kind of surprise!”
From the hall came the sound of the clock, chiming the hour. “Oh goodness, I must hurry!” Viola drained her tea cup. “Wes is such an early riser.”
“He always has been!” Margaret shook her head. “The trouble that boy got up to, rising before anyone else in the house…”
“Did he?” demanded George, interested. “Tell, tell, Granny!”
Viola smiled at the chatter as she took her last bite of toast and rose from the table. “He’s coming!” yelped Justin from his place at the door. “He’s descending the stairs!”
Viola seized her notebook and dashed for the opposite door, which young Tom sprinted to open. Silver and china clattered as everyone resumed eating, and she just heard Justin say, “Good morning, Uncle!” as the door closed behind her.
Wes had become accustomed to findingsomeoneat breakfast—the house was full of people these days—but he also usually found find Viola.
Today he found his entire family. A dozen faces looked up at him and cried, “Good morning!”
He paused warily. Not only his mother but all three sisters, both brothers-in-law, and their children. “Good morning.”
“Come in!” His mother beckoned him. “Such a lazy one you are this morning!”
Wes started. He, lazy? The clock had chimed eight as he came downstairs. “I didn’t think to see you waiting for me this morning.”
A burst of laughter greeted this. “Waiting!” cried his mother. “How silly. We were just hungry. Cook has made poached eggs, your favorite.”
He looked at her strangely. He’d never liked poached eggs.
“There’s rashers of bacon, too,” piped up his nephew George. “Good and hot, too, not cold like at school.”
“And butter buns!” added his niece Grace.
“Buns!” crowed little Mary Anne, waving her hands so hard, the bun she held flew right across the table, where her father Sir Thomas neatly caught it.
“Excellent,” said Wes after a moment. He went to the sideboard and filled a plate, his brain working furiously. Why were they all here? So early? And where was Viola?
He took his plate to the head of the table. “Has anyone seen Viola?”
“No, not at all!”
“Viola? I’ve no idea.”
“Not this morning, Uncle.”
“Would you like some coffee?”
Wes stared in amazement at Justin, who advanced on him with the coffee pot. He glanced around the table. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing! Coffee?” Justin lifted the pot aggressively. Mary Anne let out a giggle and clapped her hands over her mouth when Mary shushed her.
“And no one has seen Viola at all today?”
“Not a glimpse,” said Margaret calmly. “Were we supposed to keep an eye on her?”
Wes frowned and stabbed at his bacon. “No. It’s just odd that she’s not here.”
“She must be extremely busy,” said Anne. “Preparing for Christmas.”
“She’s done so much,” added Mary. “You must be prepared to make allowances, when guests are in the house.”
“Such a wonderful party it is, though, Uncle,” gushed Catherine.
