thirty-four
Dinner was served in a small, beautiful dining room with a soaring ceiling decorated by frescoes. The scene depicted puffy white clouds and doves, and had a soothing effect on Vivienne’s mood, compared to her parents’ austere house.
Samuel sat at the head of the table, taking small portions of his dinner.
“What is it?” She touched his hand.
He hesitated before signing. “I don’t want you to worry, but at the moment, the police won’t bring any charges against Dr. Tucker. There’s no evidence he poisoned any of his patients, intentionally or otherwise. Many of his patients the police interviewed defended him.”
“I hope my mother isn’t one of them.”
“I’m sorry for the bad news.”
“This is the beginning. Don’t be discouraged. And don’t see obstacles everywhere.”
His smile reached his eyes. “Fair point.”
“Potter did a wonderful job,” she said, finishing her perfectly seasoned veal hash with potato croquettes.
“He’s the best.”
“I would like to thank him.”
Samuel nodded at William, who left the room immediately. “You can take care of the menu when you’re ready.”
Potter entered the dining room, his hand on one of the ropes lining the walls. “My lady, sir.” He had a shy but genuine smile.
She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Potter, everything was delicious. I’m impressed by your talent.”
The cook bowed. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Ask him if he can prepare the orange and almond cake for tomorrow,” Samuel signed.
She reported the request. Of course, for Samuel and Bernard, communicating with Potter was a challenge.
“I will, sir.” Potter bowed. “I’ll need William to come with me to the market if you can spare him.”
Samuel nodded, and Vivienne said, “Mr. Lyon has no objections.”
Potter fiddled with his hands. “I feel confident with my knives, but I never leave the house without someone.”
William raised a hand. “If I may, my lady, Potter is being modest. He moved to London a few weeks ago to get acquainted with the house and the kitchen before Mr. Lyon came in, but he already has a map of London in his brain. He knows every alley and backstreet like the palm of his hand, better than a Londoner.”
“William is exaggerating.” Potter kept fiddling. “But leaving the house frightens me, my lady.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll do our best to help you.” She understood Potter’s hesitation to venture from the house alone. Thugs could take advantage of him, and London’s streets kept changing. “Where did you learn to cook?”
“I worked for a wealthy family in New York City until I lost my sight from a gas explosion. My former employer dismissedme, and I lived on the streets for a while. I have to thank Mr. Lyon for having trusted me and given me a job.”
She cleared her throat as a lump tightened it. “You deserve your place here.”
“I wasn’t convinced at first,” Potter said. “I was worried I would cut my fingers or burn my hands, but Mr. Lyon encouraged me.”
She glanced fondly at Samuel. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, Potter, and the wedding breakfast was wonderful as well.”
Potter bowed. “My pleasure, my lady.” He left, guided by the ropes.
As the footman removed her empty plates, she wondered if there was a way that allowed everyone to communicate with Potter.
