The servants moved in quietly, clearing the second course plates efficiently, and doing their best to stay invisible. Jared watched his plate leave solemnly.
"Your cook," he said to Lord Blackwood. "Has he been here long?"
"She," Lord Blackwood corrected. "And she's been here thirty-one years," Lord Blackwood said. "Her mother cooked here before her."
"Thirty-one years." Jared set his elbows on the table. "I want to meet her."
"She doesn't meet guests usually," William said, he turned to his father joyfully. "Remember when Lord Gerald visited and went to meet her!" He let out a chuckle, "She told him his opinions on seasoning were all wrong."
"Was she right?" Eleanor asked.
"Oh, most definitely," Lord Blackwood nodded. "Which made it worse."
Ryan smiled. Across the table James had relaxed into his chair, more at ease than he'd been since they arrived, the wine and the food and the warmth of the room were doing their work. James was tearing a piece of bread apart.
