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By right of privilege, my place is at the head of the table, putting her at my left. A concession I would be happy to forego in any other situation. Not this one. She rebuffs my attempt.
“You won’t see anyone coming from there,” she informs, and I wonder if her frown mirrors mine. Should I be insulted or amused that she is trying to protect me?
“Actually,” she exclaims, switching seats, “I will sit there!”
Unruffled, Lady Eleanor places her serviette in her lap.
“How many others on our floor? I thought the ship was overcrowded?”
“It’s called a deck, Lady Eleanor, and there are only four cabins on our deck,” my wife tells her. “Steerage will have the crowd.”
“Many are still adjusting to the roll of the ship,” I explain, “or, of course, ladies often prefer trays in their cabin.”
That ends my contribution to the conversation. Any further attempt would have reduced me to petty competitiveness.
Montague manages to fight through any ill health, offering the vapid sort of gossip many find titillating.
“The lady in question has retired to the country. The man with the silver can failed to follow. The husband, however, did.”
“You never mention names. Is this loyalty or coyness?” Lady Eleanor asks.
“Everyone knows who I speak of.”
Montague’s lip lifts. A smile or snarl? Or an attempt to keep his breakfast in his stomach? Difficult to say. He’s barely tasted the food.
“And why should we care?” Lady Eleanor’s eyes have caught Montague’s. “Gossip is a tedious pastime. Difficult to keep our own affairs in order, is it not?”
“Society feeding frenzies,” Kat breaks in, disrupting the confrontation. “More importantly, we failed to ask how Jenny is faring?”
“I’ve yet to find out,” Lady Eleanor laments. “The foreigner distracted me. He was on the foredeck, doing some sort of exercise. Fascinating, fluid as a symphony. I was not aware bodies could bend and twist like that.”
“And you watched.” Montague’s chuckle is unseemly.
I consider calling him to task, but Kat is so excited, I daren’t spoil her reaction.
Entertained, she gushes, “You did watch him! You’re even blushing.”
“I am not,” Lady Eleanor defends, but she is, and I’m not surprised, having seen Zenji do his exercises. Barely clothed, his paces defy logic. He is magnificent.
“No doubt you women will be on the foredeck tomorrow morning, hoping for a glimpse.” Montague is priming me to box that lurid tease right out of him.
“Of course I watched, he was in the open.” Lady Eleanor puts her serviette down. “But I shouldn’t have. I lost much needed time. In the end, he promised to deliver my tonics to Jenny.”
“You spoke with him?” Kat asks.
“Only for a short moment. I’d been jostled, dropped my satchel. Despite the throng watching him, he noticed. Stopped his exercises and retrieved it. A perfect gentleman.”
“Servant,” Montague sneers.
Kat ignores him. In a total breach of etiquette, she sits with elbows on the table, chin in hand, fascinated.
“What did he do?”
Blushes gone, Lady Eleanor leans over, surprisingly playful.
“He ran up the mast, higher than he is tall, and somersaulted off. Most impressive!”
Breaking my silence, I say, “Warriors from other parts of the world use their bodies as weapons.”
