The first of eight courses would be a pea soup. As the dishes were brought around by a plump woman muttering under her breath, Ronan eyed the table arrangements.
It was a decent rectangular table where he was seated at one head and Mrs. MacLaren the other. At his right elbow wasMargaret with Lacey on her other side, and Isla at his left elbow. Everyone was polite enough except for Lacey who, for all her limited sight, didn’t seem inclined to take her eyes off him.
“Have you ever had pea soup, Westvale?” She called.
“I have indeed,” he replied before her mother could scold her for calling across the table. “Never so green, however. And you?”
The question was the trick. Her face brightened like the sun as she excitedly told him all about the first time she’d had pea soup. Of course, this only lasted so long until she had a new question for him.
Did he drink brandy? What was so awful about brandy that he didn’t like?
How many courses did he like to enjoy in a meal? Did dukes typically eat more because of their titles?
Was he the sort of duke that liked dessert or could she have his?
“She’s just a child,” Isla murmured, leaning in to speak quietly with him on the last course. “I do appreciate your patience. She means well. I haven’t seen her so lively with someone new in a very long time. I’m sure you can see she’s a very clever girl.”
“Very,” he reassured her. And after a bite of his blanc mange, he cried off being too full and let Lacey enjoy the rest of his dessert.
Lacey skipped over to him, ignoring banging her elbow twice on a chair, when the meal was done. “I must retire now like a lady,” she overly pronounced. “Will you be here come morning?”
“I… am returning to my own home this evening.”
“And where is that? Can I visit you?”
Isla stepped in while their mother turned red. “Lacey, when do we ever visit a gentleman’s home?”
“But you’re to marry him soon! Aren’t you?”
“Let’s off to bed,” Margaret said with a cheery smile. She shot them all a friendly wink. “You can tell me a new story about fairies and blanc mange, surely?”
The question made no sense to him, but it brightened Lacey’s mood and immediately distracted the girl. “I have just the idea! Good night, all. Good night, Your Gracious!” And she skipped right out.
“Well, that was… She’s… a very lively girl,” Mrs. MacLaren said and then hastily added, “We’ll have a governess soon enough of course to turn her into a lady. It will only take some time.”
“A lot of time!” Margaret called from the hall, somehow having heard.
Isla didn’t enjoy the jest from the frown on her face. “Mother, there is nothing wrong with Lacey.”
“When did I say there was? I’m merely saying there is room for improvement. Now, don’t argue with me in front of your intended,” the woman added before Isla could say anything. “Go back to the parlor. We have some sherry out there and I’ll join you in a moment.”
Deliberately moving slow with Isla’s polite usuring, Ronan glanced back over his shoulder to see Mrs. MacLaren collecting the plates.
He’d been working on this assumption for some time but wanted it confirmed. There was another servant here, yes, but it seemed like there might only be one. No governess for Lacey or additional footmen at the door or dining room. If Mrs. MacLaren was helping clean up after supper, then what else might her daughters do to maintain such a tidy home?
All sources I’ve tracked show the family has few to no investments to their name. Everything dwindled down to male relatives through the years. The little savings they have might keep them another year if they’re lucky, but not in this part of London. Without admitting to it, I believe they may be desperate.
A voice in the back of his head scolded him for using a desperate family. But then Ronan reminded himself that he too had a great need for someone, and this would surely work out just the way he intended.
“You don’t care for strong drinks or tea, but will you take a sherry?” Isla asked when they had returned to the parlor where a small tray had been set up for them during their supper.
Turning his attention back to her, Ronan hesitated before nodding. “I will accept a drink, thank you.”
“Oh, I must thank you. What a perfect supper guest you were tonight. Lacey adores you now,” Isla said with a blinding smile that nearly made him drop the glass she handed over to him.
There was something about that look on her face that made him sick to his stomach. What was that for? Did she think he had worked a miracle? He had merely been polite. It meant nothing. He didn’t care what Lacey thought of him, he couldn’t. There was that twisting in his stomach that he couldn’t stand––it had to go away. He pushed it down at once.
“I was merely being polite. It’s clear that family is important to you,” he added.
