“I’m sure we will manage just fine,” the older woman smiled, taking her seat.
William saw Rebecca shoot her a grateful smile.
William took his own seat beside Patrick. He hoped it would get easier after that, but it almost seemed like the longer the meal went on the worse her behavior became. He could hardly bring himself to stop glaring at either of them.
After yet another sinde remark towards Rebecca, he was gripping his fork hard enough that the metal was digging into his skin.
Patrick caught his eyes and shot him a look.
William just shook his head.
“But why?” he leaned in and whispered to William.
“I don’t want to ruin Rebecca’s evening by causing a scene. She worked so hard on it.”
“Well, pardon me for saying it, but they seem rather intent on causing a scene.”
“I know,” he sighed. “If they start to go too far, I will step in, but I promised Rebecca I would let her handle this.”
Patrick smirked. “I didn’t promise her anything.”
William shook his head. “This is mine to handle.”
“But I can help.”
“If you want to worry about something, then worry about your wife. She looks rather stressed.”
He nodded and turned back to his wife, agreeing to stay out of it.
So, William was bound to stay out of it unless things went horribly wrong. He had asked Patrick to stay out of it, and his poor wife seemed so uncomfortable she hadn’t said a single word since they sat down.
That left Penelope and her mother to try and smooth things over as best as they could.
“This dinner is wonderful,” Lady Sutton said. “You did a wonderful job putting it together, Rebecca.”
She smiled. “Thank you, I-”
“You should make sure not to serve so many carrots next time,” Dorothy cut in. “it makes you look low class.”
“They are just carrots,” Penelope grumbled. “And they are delicious.”
“Its such a shame you have such unrefined palates to think so.”
William shot her another glare.
They hadn’t technically done anything too over the top yet, but hasn’t this gone on long enough? He couldn’t just sit here in silence and let Rebecca take this. Maybe it was time he said something.
After all, the rule wasn’t that he could never step in, only that he not do so without warning Rebecca.
And so, deciding he couldn’t just sit here and watch this happen any longer he caught Rebecca’s eyes across the table.
Once again, William found himself regretting signing off on a seating chart that put them on opposite ends of the table.
He remembered when she had brought him the setting chart. William had been sitting in the parlor, wiring to meet with Rebecca when she race in, papers in hand and a bright smile on her face.
“I finished the seating chart!” she declared. “Do you want to look it over?”
He set his book aside. “If you want me to, I would be more than happy to look it over for you and tell you what I think.”