Page 36 of Some Like It Scot
“And pulling out a chair wasn’t a sign of weakness as much as a sign of appreciation,” Ana added and then tipped one of her bare shoulders. “And I think it’s very dashing.”
I suppose it could be dashing. However, I’d only had a chair pulled out for me by a man three times.
Once was on a date (and, I have to admit, it was a little dashing), once was on stage, and the other was by my oldest brother to see how hard I’d hit the ground. Despite the latter, I rather liked the idea of being treated like a lady, so that was a point for the Edwardian era.
“I am sorry to inform all of you that our butler, Mr. Reynolds, has been called away on a family emergency and will not be joining us for a week,” Mrs. Lennox said. “It is a butler’s usual occupation to organize those serving the meal, but we will have to make do with our two footmen for now.” She waved to the two men standing against the wall on opposite sides of the room. “Do not worry; I shall have a replacement in the morning.”
A replacement butler by morning? Sounded like a car. Were there just extra butlers for hire around here?
“Before we begin our meal, I should remind you that maintaining composure at all times is a sign of refinement, so if you feel yourself having high emotions, find a way to control them.” Mrs. Lennox settled her attention on her daughter, and my wellies didn’t seem sobad after all. “Or excuse yourself from the situation in order to collect yourself. Keeping your head is a true sign of nobility, whether you are royal or not.”
Mrs. Lennox clapped her hands, and as if by magic, a set of doors to the left opened, allowing the two footmen, along with a lady, to reenter, each carrying a tray of food.
“Tomorrow we will have our hors d’oeuvres in the drawing room before we make our way to dinner, which is customary of the times. Tonight your meal will begin with the first course. Soup.”
One of the servants placed a bowl in front of me filled with a green substance topped with croutons? Breadcrumbs?
“We begin with Chef’s Vintage Pea Soup.”
The servants moved around us in surprising synchrony, clearly well trained, even if the butler wasn’t here. As soon as everyone had their soup, Mrs. Lennox raised her spoon and surveyed the room. “It was customary for guests to begin eating only after the hostess.”
And with that, she took a taste of her soup.
The rest of us followed. I’d expected bland. But some sort of tangy flavor blended in with the typical pea taste, tumbling over my taste buds with a surprisingly pleasant richness.
“Excellent texture,” Mr. Logan murmured as he stared down into his bowl with more admiration than any man had ever bestowed upon me. “The consistency is perfect.”
“Chef le Blanc is most experienced,” Mrs. Lennox preened. “And a good friend of Mr. Lennox.”
“You should see him wrestle an alligator.” Mr. Lennox nodded before raising his glass again. “There’s nothing quite like eating what you catch yourself.”
An alligator-wrestling French chef. It was a wonder that combination had never entered my mind in all my life.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mark interjected with a satisfied grin. “I’ve had quite a few similar experiences, which I feature on my popularYouTube channel, if you’re interested. Especially the one about the kangaroo.”
“You ate a kangaroo?” Miss Dupont nearly stood from her place, her face growing pale. “A... a kangaroo?”
“They’re actually pests in Australia.”
Kanga and Roo flashed to mind as they appeared in book form fromWinnie the Pooh. I pushed through another swallow of pea soup.
“Pets?!” Ana gasped.
“No,pests.” He bit down on the word. “The country is practically overrun with the creatures. It’s legal and encouraged to attempt to cull the population. I hope to find some game here to show to my viewers. What would you suggest, Mr. Lennox?”
Mr. Lennox’s pale brows rose and he leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t the foggiest. Fish would come in plenty, I’d say, but you’d need to check with regulations before you go blasting about the island, Page. The locals may not be too keen.”
“Of course.” Mark nodded as if dismissing the man. “I always cover those bases.”
“I’ve seen a few deer. Venison was once a widely consumed meal,” Mr. Logan added. “Wild goat too.”
Oh dear—and then I stifled my grin. Not a moment for puns, especially from the horrified expression on Ana’s and Miss Dupont’s faces.
“Not the deer.” Ana dropped her spoon. “Oh, how could you?”
Looks like Ana’s husband interests just decreased by one.
For now.
