Page 80 of Waiting for Love

He entered the second suite rather than his own, to spend time with Hannah and melt his irritation away. Miss Jamison looked up from her mending.

“Oh, Mr. Carroll. Good.” She stood up and tucked the cloth into a basket at her feet. “Hannah is napping. The picnic tired her. She could not stop chattering about the ducks.” She smiled. “And ‘Olly.’”

Benjamin forced a smile.

She pulled a card from her pocket. “This came for you. There will be a supper tonight. They want you to come. Hannah and I are to join Millie and Arthur in the nursery.”

Benjamin scanned the card and grimaced. At least it was no formal invitation. Just a scribbled line from Van—from Lady Iversley. Supper at nine. Please come.

“Is something amiss?” Miss Jamison asked.

“No.” He tried again to smile. “Only that I will have to clean my boots.” He drew a breath and let it out. “Since Hannah is sleeping, I’ll go get ready.”

He could use a bath and a clean shirt. And then, tomorrow, he would go to a tailor—someone cheap down by the river—and have another shirt made. Another jacket, too. It was becoming disrespectful not to have a better change of clothes.

With all the bustle of the preceding weeks, he had not had to dine with the Taverstons. They were running in six different directions at once and there were no formal suppers at home. Even tea was a haphazard affair. Half the time, Reg and Georgiana were at Watershorn, her parents’ London house, where her younger brother was down from Oxford to meet his nephew. Benjamin simply asked for trays from the kitchen. But there would likely be more invitations to join the family for supper until he escaped back to Chaumbers.

Unless he managed to have that conversation with Jasper. But already, he sensed his courage slipping away. There was no good time to tell the earl that in choosing an old friend for his steward, he had made a terrible mistake.

*

They congregated in the parlor before supper. Benjamin thought he was last to arrive, but Jasper said they were waiting for Hazard and Lord Chesterfield.

“But not Lord Chase, I hope.”

Jasper scowled. “Never.”

Benjamin went to stand by the fire. Hazard walked in the next moment. He nodded his greetings, but his expression was flat and tired. Not at all like himself.

Jasper asked, “Where is Lord Chesterfield?”

“He has left for the country. He says he hears his hounds calling.” Hazard smiled, but there was no humor in it. “But the truth is, he cannot abide London for long.”

“That is a shame.”

Hazard shrugged. “He has never liked the city.”

“Shall we go in?” the dowager asked. “I believe supper is ready.”

Jasper and Vanessa led the way. To Benjamin’s surprise, the table was elaborately set even though it was just family, and they were generally more casual at home. Jasper sat at the head, Vanessa on one side and the dowager on the other.

Benjamin found himself seated between Georgiana and Alice.

“Now,” the dowager said, “there will be no shouting across the table. No reaching. No clinking of spoons on your plates.”

Jasper laughed. “Is this to be a lesson in table manners?”

“Yes, indeed. I cannot think of the last time Olivia dined in civilized company.”

“At the balls!” Olivia cried.

“That doesn’t count. Tomorrow night we are dining with the Edgeworths.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to drive home the significance of that. Benjamin didn’t understand but the Taverstons did. They all groaned. “Enough of that. I know you will all make me proud.”

Dinner was superb. Six courses and an absurd amount of food. There were no deviations from behavior one might see at the queen’s own table. Or so Benjamin imagined. He knew enough to only talk with Georgiana and Alice and to alternate his attention between the two. He kept his voice low and said nothing of interest. He picked up the wrong fork once. Alice tapped hers twice to alert him, but Georgiana pretended not to notice, which was probably the more correct response.

It was excruciating. They were all so stiff and formal, it was like watching a play. Until dessert when Olivia picked up her glass of claret, caught it on the rim of her plate with a loud clank, and dropped it. The drink bled all over the tablecloth. Her brothers applauded. Olivia stared at the mess with open-mouthed dismay.

The dowager rose, laughing. “I give up. Go on with you.”