Chapter 5: Her Master's Wedding, Part 5, The Charity Dinner

Charlotte's attention becomes distracted, Veronica probing the detail of the wedding; outfits, choice of church, how many bridesmaids, dresses....

How much it's all costing....

James leans close, speaking in a low voice. "Thanks for that. Charlotte would have been mortified. One of the things I know she was taught on that farm was that you don't waste food. That it's bad-mannered not to clear your plate. Between that and starving as a kid, she never...."

I brush it off. "Forget it. I asked you to bring her so she could get used to this kind of thing."

He arches brows. "Really? Should I read something into that?"

I prevaricate. "She was worried about the wedding reception, about knowing how to behave at a formal occasion. This is good practice for her."

He nods, chewing his food thoughtfully.

In for a penny....

"As a matter of fact, there's something else I wanted to run by you." I glance across to check Charlotte's attention is elsewhere. It is. She's listening politely to Veronica....

.... winding her table-napkin in her hands, knuckles turning white....

Good practice....

"Go on," says James.

"You mentioned to me some while ago that you'd caught her hacking our security system."

"Ah-ha. Along with whatever else caught her interest."

"Did you make any attempt to stop her?"

"No, not after you said you were happy for her to see what was going on."

"Good. So.... We can assume that she's probably continuing along those lines?"

James sucks at his teeth, then delicately picks a sliver from between with a fingernail. After a long pause, he says, "I don't know. I didn't think to check. But I can if you want me to?"

"Not necessarily. That's not what I'm thinking."

He scratches his forehead. "What then?"

"Not now, but later, when she's had more training, what do you think of the idea of Charlotte as Head of Security?"

James fork drops, landing with a clatter on his plate. He glances around. "Sorry, folks. Clumsy of me." Then he turns back to me. "Are you serious?"

"Perfectly serious. You don't like the idea?"

"Ummm, I didn't say that." He ponders. "In fact, as I think on it.... she'd be a natural for the job."

I pursue the point. "I know I can trust her. And she has the kind of devious mind and the sheer tenacity that a job like that needs. Not to mention the motivation."

"To be suspicious on our behalf?"

"Exactly."

James chews at a lip, turning the thought over. "She wanted to be an engineer."

"Do the two conflict? I don't see why they should."

He glances Charlotte's way, then back at me. "No, they wouldn't conflict at all. One set of skills would boost the other." He stares at the tablecloth. "Michael won't like it."

"You're her Dom."

"Yes, but not exclusively. Look, suppose we keep this on the table for the long-term and meanwhile, I can.... guide her along appropriate paths."

"Agreed," I say. "And if she's permitted to pursue the interest, you'll know what she's up to."

He huffs. "True."

*****

The fish course is next.

Charlotte leans forward over the table to Elizabeth. "Which is the fish knife?" she hisses. "I thought I knew what it looked like."

I glance down at my cutlery.

Oh, God....

They're serving oysters....

Wonder if she's ever eaten one?

James exchanges a glance with me, rubbing at his chin.

The plate is set before Charlotte. She stares, then her eyes roll up to watch Elizabeth.

In fact, I know that my wife does not care for oysters, but this time, she makes a show of how to eat one tidily. Squeezing on a little lemon juice, she flicks the flesh clear of the shell with the tiny fork, then tips it back into her mouth.

Which moron set the menu for this meal?

Charlotte watches keenly. Still with an uncertain look, she squeezes lemon juice over one of the shellfish on her plate, then jerks back. "It moved!"

James murmurs something to her.

"They're alive?" Her eyes are wide. "They're alive and we eat them like that?"

"That's how it's done, Charlotte. It's the only way to be sure they're fresh."

"But.... I just saw it flinch when I put on the lemon juice. It's... it's like a chemical burn on the poor thing...."

She has the attention of the whole table by now. Brows furrow at her words and some of the dishes are pushed away.

A mutter from one side. "Never thought of it like that."

"Chemical attack.... She's right though...."

The waiter's glance is frosty as he removes Charlotte's plate, then the others, most of the contents untouched.

*****

Fortunately, Charlotte enjoys the sorbet which follows, and a salad can hold few surprises. The vegetable terrine is excellent and presents no problems. But when the main course arrives....

Oh my God....

And I know what's coming. Next to me, James groans quietly.

Charlotte peers at her dish, then up at the waiter. Her eyes pass between me and Elizabeth, then at James. She sucks at her lips. "Um, it's raw."

"Steak tartare is meant to be raw, Charlotte," says James, his voice level. "Why don't you try it...."

*****

The evening over, we leave, Elizabeth and Charlotte chatting, James by me. His voice low. "Do we call that a win?"

"I think we just call it a first. Who's setting the menu for your reception dinner?"

"I am. Perhaps I'll reconsider my plans."

"I'd keep it simple if I were you."

"I'll hang on to that thought."

Elizabeth is struggling to keep her face straight. "Did you enjoy that, Charlotte?"

Charlotte sniffs. "Next time give the food direct to the homeless and the needy. Better still, give 'em the cash."

She has a point....

*****

JAMES – THE VOWS

Charlotte sits cross-legged on the rug by the hearth, the fire glowing warm. Although, in theory, we're well into Spring and the sun is bright, the day is crisp and cold here on our mountain, as Winter shrugs its last over the heights.

Michael carries in an armful of logs. "Plenty to keep us going."

In fact, I rather think he enjoys chopping the firewood. I've seen Charlotte watching him sometimes, surreptitiously, when she thinks he doesn't notice. Stripped to the waist for the work in even the coldest weather, from the female point of view, I imagine he makes an engaging sight.

She's working through catalogues and brochures for invitations, stationery, flowers and dresses. There seem to be more every time I look, and Beth keeps producing more to add to the stack.

"What have you chosen for the vows?" I ask. "Please tell me that you're not promising to 'Love, Honour and Obey'. None of us would believe it for a minute."

She has the grace to blush. "Er, no. I don't think that would be a good idea, would it? I shall promise to Love, Honour and Cherish'."

"How about the part where you promise to 'forsake all others...'" chuckles Michael.

Charlotte's jaw drops. My gut clenches and Michael's expression twists to dismay. "Hey, it was a joke...." He looks between us, palms raised. "Really. It was just a joke."

But Charlotte's eyes travel to mine, then his, and back again as she chews at her lip.