Page 69 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

‘Cake,’ he responded gruffly. His voice betrayed him, so he corrected it and elaborated. ‘With petals on. Tastes of rose water...’

‘I’m going to make it,’ Violet said. ‘Once I’ve been freed.’

He took a deep breath.

‘Kidding!’ She looked over and gave him a small smile.

‘Good.’

He stared at the tent roof as she went through all the menus and he realised he’d been right the first time—she did recover quickly.

The hurt was still there, though.

‘You could get a job anywhere,’ he said, in as even a tone as he could summon.

‘Oh, please... I have no qualifications, no experience apart from at the library. And please don’t offer to help,’ she warned. ‘I’d hate that.’

‘Then I won’t—and anyway, you don’t need my help. You have a lot going for you.’ He looked at her. ‘You must be reliable, if you’ve worked there for so long. Loyal...’

She was many, many things, he thought.

‘Maybe it’s time to think about what you really want.’

‘I’d like this.’ Again, she changed the subject and held up another menu card. ‘Christmas dinner at the Savoy. I’d love to go there.’

‘I’m being serious.’

‘So am I,’ she said.

But she would not look up, and he knew she was hurting, and he loathed it that he did not know how to fix this, that she refused his help.

He sensed she did not want to discuss it further. ‘What’s on the menu?’ he asked.

‘Turkey,’ she read. ‘Sole.’

He smiled when she pulled a face at the thought of fish.

‘Skip to the dessert, Violet,’ he said. ‘You know you want to.’

‘Actually, no!’

She laughed, about to tell him she loathed fruit cake, but then she saw all the ticks beside a few of the dishes—neat little ticks that she recognised from the Queen’s markings on the books.

‘This is...’ She was about to tell him, but then, turning the menu over, she abruptly stopped.

It was dated.

‘What?’ he asked.

Violet was silent, frantically doing the maths in her head.

‘What?’ he asked again, and she looked up, her face flushed.

‘I was going to say it’s less expensive than I thought it would be, but it’s an old menu.’

It was from the Christmas before Sahir had been born.

Violet said nothing more, but went through the trunk with a keener interest now.

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