She didn’t tack on the phrase “you idiot,” but it hung in the air. Something seemed to amuse her because she repeated, “Excellent boiled potatoes” under her breath to no one in particular.
“Is the clothing to your liking, Mr.Taylor?” Georgie held court across the table. “I must say, you clean up nicely. Doesn’t he, Jane?”
“He has a pleasant countenance,” Jane said, covering her glass when Georgie attempted to pour in more wine. “And I will not let you coax me into another night of drinking, as we have more than enough diversions to occupy our minds. For example, if Mr.Taylor is going to be successful, he shall require proper education. For starters, when is it acceptable for a gentleman to rest his elbows on the dining room table?”
Tucker glanced down at his relaxed posture. “Between courses?”
“Never.” Jane’s reply hit the mark, and he jolted back in his seat. “And in which direction do you pass a dish?” she continued.
“To whoever asks politely?”
“Left to right,” she said simply.
Lizzy bristled. “You can’t expect him to—”
“He must know enough to not cause offense. Of course, being American helps. You can explain away much ignorance on that point alone.”
“At least he unfolded his napkin on his lap.” It wasn’t until the words left her lips, hanging there over the table, that she realized she was riding to his defense. Any hope she had of feigning indifference or of projecting an attitude of resigned obligation dimmed considerably.
The knowing glance between Jane and Georgie grated on her nerves.
“Let’s review topics fit for discussion in social settings.” Jane resumed a businesslike demeanor, all efficiency and seriousness. “The weather. Blue skies. Stormy skies. Dry spells. Fog. Discussing the weather isalwayssafe.” The corner of her lip curled. “You may die from boredom, but better to be too dull than daring.”
“Makes sense.” He gave a slow nod. “How’s this? ‘Hey, look out the window at this masterpiece we’ve got on display today. A perfect blend of gray and, uh, grayer. It’s like Mother Nature took her palette and went,Let’s keep itsimple, butmake it fashionable.’”
“There is a fine line between mockery and wit,” Jane said dryly.
“And best not to discuss the American War at all,” Georgie said. “If anyone asks, change the subject to—”
He turned to Lizzy. “What’s the American War?”
“My mother’s husband fought in it, and now he has a limp.” Lizzy wrinkled her brow, bemused. “Certainly you know. It’s when the colonies had their rebellion.”
“Ah. TheRevolutionaryWar.” He nodded. “Got it.”
“For the next few days, I propose that Tucker receive an education in being a gentleman of our time,” Jane mused. “We’ll all help, and I daresay we’ll have our work cut out.”
“You talk about me like I’m a barbarian.”
“Not quite,” Jane shot back. “You’re more brawn than brute.”
“Here, here,” Georgie chimed in.
“And you’re both incorrigible,” Lizzy scolded. “Mr. Taylor... I’ll help you.”
The room went silent.
Her palms grew clammy, and she curled her fingers into her skirts, the fabric bunching beneath her grip. “I’ll help you get home, even if it means we go to Gretna Green. This is for our mutual benefit. Your lessons will start tomorrow promptly after breakfast. We’ll cover the broad strokes from history to current topics of interest to manners to literature.”
“On one condition,” he said.
“I don’t believe you are in a position to negotiate.”
“I’m serious. I can’t tell you much about the future, okay? I don’t want to be rude, but it’s better that way. There’s a theory known as the butterfly effect that says that even small actions, say, a butterfly flapping its wings, could lead to a big consequence, like causing a storm on the other side of the world. I don’t know how history and time are connected, and I really don’t want to be responsible for messing with the future or anyone’s destiny in this room.”
“How charming.” Jane laughed. “Imagine any of us living lives that could be of lasting consequence.”
Mr.Taylor nudged Lizzy’s shoe with his boot. A signal.Careful.
