“They’re taking their meal in the breakfast room,” Simon said as he shook out his serviette.
“Why?”
“I believe because you told them to stay away from us.”
“I—” He had done exactly that. But . . . “I did not mean they shouldn’tdinewith us.” There was a bell on the table. He wondered if it had been set there by Mrs. MacPuddle. Would ringing it summon anybody? He gave it a go.
While they waited, he tried to explain. “I only meant I didn’t want our trip to turn into one long feminine parlor game.”
“Was there ever any risk of that?” Simon asked, wearing a puzzled expression.
“One long, feminine parlor game,” Effie echoed drawing out the phrase as if tasting it on his tongue. He tilted his head and stared off into space, a stance Archie recognized as one associated with his creative process. “I’m not sure exactly what that means, but it soundsterriblycompelling.”
“Yes, my lords?” Mrs. MacPuddle arrived and dropped a curtsy.
“Will you ask the Misses Morgan to dine with us?” Archie said, and after Mrs. MacPuddle retreated, he surveyed the table. The pheasants had been roasted to a deep golden brown and dressed with mushrooms and sage. The pies were piled onto a large platter that was flanked with bowls of the same grapes and peaches that had been served earlier. There were no inedible biscuits in sight.
“An odd assortment of dishes, but a rather pleasing one, I think,” Effie said.
“And served all at once instead of in a series of removes, which is also pleasing for some reason,” Simon said. “I suppose it’s that it makes one feel that one is enjoying a reprieve from the strictures of society.”
Archie’s friends had given voice perfectly to his own thoughts. The hearty but simple repast seemed perfectly suited to the occasion; its informality was cheering and its abundance welcome. His mouth watered.
“My lords.” Mrs. MacPuddle reappeared. “The ladies send their thanks for your thoughtful invitation but must decline it, as they do not wish to cut up your peace.”
“No, no; they misunderstand. Miss Clementine Morgan is taking my earlier words about them giving us a wide swath too literally. Please tell them they are most welcome to sup with us.”
“My Heavens, Archie, what did you say to Miss Morgan to scare her away so thoroughly?” Simon asked as Mrs. MacPuddle departed.
“You know, this is like those letters from school,” Effie said. “Miss Morgan would write to you, and you would huff and complain about the burden of reciprocity her letters created, but then you’d follow me around entreating me to help you write her back.”
Archie remembered. This was part of the reason, he suddenly realized, he had fallen out of touch with Clementine and her family. There was the inescapable fact that the two families were almost never in the same place these days, but Clementine had continued to write to him after he was out of school. Without Effie to help him write back, and with Father endlessly and aggressively filling his head with estate matters, Archie’s intentions to answer Clem’s letters somehow always got pushed aside in favor of something more immediate.
And at some point, she stopped writing.
He felt the loss, perhaps more now than he had at the time.
“Yes,” Simon said, “and remember the time she told him she had gone to a dance at the assembly rooms in Chiddington and had been surprised when she was asked to dance not once but twice, but she hadn’t said who either partner was? And then he wrote back and asked her, but an answer to that question was not part of her next letter? He went near mad with the not knowing.”
“It was merely that I, too, was surprised Clementine had danced twice that evening. Clementine in those days was not very . . .”Civilizedwas the word he wanted to use, but he feared it would sound unflattering in a way he did not intend. He understood how elementally unsuited Clementine was for balls and musicales and teas, but to say so to others would sound like criticism when it was, in fact, the opposite. Other people, even Simon and Effie, wouldn’t understand.
Once again, Mrs. MacPuddle returned. “Miss Clementine Morgan has decided to refrain from the consumption of meat while she is in residence, and Miss Olive Morgan has decided to join her in this endeavor, so they regret that they cannot accept your kind invitation.”
Archie blinked. It sometimes took a moment to understand Mrs. MacPuddle’s thick brogue, which felt somewhat at odds with the formal way she was speaking to them; it was as if she was playing the role of a housekeeper on stage. “Well, they needn’t eat any pies or pheasant.” Though he was strangely disappointed at the notion that Clementine wouldn’t be tasting the fruits of his labors. His friends always praised the spoils of his hunts. In fact, they would probably do exactly that in a matter of minutes—if they could ever start their meal—even as they simultaneously harangued him for having broken the no-hunting rule. “Tell the ladies to bring whatever it is they’re supping on in here. We’ll wait.” His stomach grumbled fiercely, objecting to the ongoing delay.
It wasn’t until a few moments later, when Simon cleared his throat and Effie guffawed, that Archie realized he was staring at the door and drumming his fingers on the table. “I’mhungry,” he said peevishly. “Too hungry to make small talk.”
“Since, as has been well-established, we are not standing on ceremony here, why don’t we just start?” Simon said.
“No, no, if the ladies are to join us, we must wait,” Archie said. “We’re on holiday, but we’re not heathens.”
Effie and Simon shared a look Archie couldn’t make sense of.
“My lords.” Mrs. MacPuddle sighed as she appeared again and dropped into a half-hearted curtsy. She had been a remarkably good sport, what with all the back and forth. “The ladies have finished their meal and reiterate their wish not to disturb you.” She glanced pointedly at the untouched food, and Archie heard her unarticulated censure.
Oh, for Heaven’s sake. He was tempted to suggest they all at least eat the pudding together but feared that to do so would make him look desperate for the ladies’ company. Which he absolutely was not. This was anEarlsTrip, after all. “Very well, then. Gentlemen, shall we?”
The three of them made quick work of pies and pheasants both, and if Archie had been out of sorts by being snubbed by the Morgan sisters, he was put to rights by the praise his friends bestowed on him for the birds, even if it was, as he’d predicted, interlaced with a good deal of griping about the attainment of said birds.
