Chapter 47

“Excuse me, my lord,” Ayesha interrupted. “Hors d’oeuvres are in the lounge. Dinner will be served at eight.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

Ayesha’s lower lip trembled, but then she firmed it, gave a brisk nod, and hurried away.

“Shall we?” He took Mother’s arm and led the way to the lounge, which was set up with a marvelous array of crab and avocado toasts, miso-glazed smoked sable on rice crackers, salami-egg canapés, bruschetta with mozzarella and smashed fresh favas, and warm olives with rosemary, garlic, and lemon to name just a few.

We each took a plate and began helping ourselves to the hors d’oeuvres.

The hors d’oeuvres were the precursor to a dinner which had been exquisitely prepared and was equally delicious, and as a result, I’d eaten more than I usually would.

Now, however, while dinner was winding to an end, it was the conversation between Mother and her erstwhile suitor that had been a revelation.