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"The table is elegant, but I have not dared to go into the kitchen for a taste of anything yet."
"As I said you are not allowed. Comme je l'ai dit, vous n'êtes pas autorisé. No entry.”
"Le dominateur, you are a true tyrant, you know."
"Je ne veux pas gâcher la surprise. I don't want to spoil the surprise."
Drew raised his eyebrows in as French a manner as he could manage.
"What surprise? We planned the menu together."
"Specialties of the Allied nations, I want to add."
"What the deuce, Andre. We had a perfect selection, I thought. And what stomach-churning German beers are you planning to serve? Or Russian peasant slop to give the ladies indigestion?"
Andre set his fists on his hips.
"My country may have been the enemy a few weeks ago, but the French regard for cuisine will rescue these dishes from ordinary rustic fare and turn them into food for the gods."
"Nonsense."
"My expert touch turns common, everyday Prussian meatballs into delicate boulettes de viande. Belgian moules are almost as superior as those from Brittany. My delicate vol au vent, superbly filled with partridge from Austria, perhaps equal to Norman birds."
Drew simply shook his head.
"It sounds almost as tasty as Dover sole and Scottish beef."
Andre beamed.
"Now, mon ami, we also have those."
"I give up. You are outdoing yourself."
"Merci, merci."
******
Drew found Baron Montgomery watching the beach and the sea beyond from the veranda. He'd arrived the previous day and been swept up in the arms of his daughters and preened over by his wife, all of which he appeared to relish. Lord Montgomery's appearance and demeanour were precisely the opposite of Drew's expectations. For no good reason at all, he'd expected a bluff, rural squire type fellow, something like Lord Appleby. Instead, Montgomery was tall and spare, pleasingly amiable, quite in contrast to his domineering wife. Drew immediately saw from whom Miss Montgomery had inherited her charm.
Now, as they greeted each other, Drew saw the gentleman as a true asset to the evening's company, unlikely to be anything but impressed with Chef Andre's creations.
"A fine day, sir." Montgomery clasped his hands together. "What a charming scene, this bay full of boats and the beach ready for the bathers."
"Good morning, my Lord. Those fishermen get out early and bring us the freshest possible catch."
"Ah, of course. Mere hours from swimming in the sea to becoming a tasty fillet on the plate of some lucky diner."
"Indeed. If I may inquire, sir, what may I do to ensure the success of your visit to the Royal Arms? Are your accommodations satisfactory?"
"Why capital, quite up to the moment. All the crack, as they say in London."
"This is your first visit to Weymouth?"
"Indeed. As a boy. my family went to Ramsgate once or twice. Say, Captain, how did you end up here? In Weymouth?"
"Completely by chance. I never intended to do anything more than stay in this establishment."
"Recuperating from the battlefield, I assume."
