Page 42 of Crash Landing
Perhaps it was a good thing Florence would be hosting Lady Frampton tomorrow. This was a sensible way of gathering information, assuming Frampton’s wife had any to give. But it also kept Florence occupied within the house while he was working with his cousins. The last thing he needed was for her to be running off while he was meeting with them and distracted.
He intended to greet Lady Frampton upon her arrival, of course. It would be rude not to introduce her to his family, as well. But then he meant to keep out of Florence’s way and let her wheedle whatever information she could from the lady. He would figure out what to do about protecting Florence once she told him what she had learned.
Trajan walked into the dining room with the others and immediately noticed a subtle change. First of all, Florence had chosen to remove the extension leaves from the dining table that had been set up to easily seat forty. With the leaves out, it would hold no more than twelve comfortably. This was still more than they needed, but far cozier than before. Also, the Aubrey men were broad shouldered and could use the extra space.
He noticed the room was brighter, and it was not merely due to the presence of the ladies. He was not so besotted to attribute shining lights to Florence’s mere presence.
But she had donesomething. More candles, perhaps? Wherever had she found the silver epergne now placed in the center of the table? That was it, the source of the additional illumination. The epergne was not merely decorative but also practical, since it had candlesticks at each end, where Florence had inserted tapered candles to brighten the table.
She had also cut scented herbs, along with some greenery and a few flowers from the conservatory garden, to give the table settings that extra touch of refinement and delicacy.
Who knew his fake bird watcher, this little sprite who had almost felled him when tumbling out of the tree, was so talented domestically?
“I like what you’ve done, Florence,” he said, and smiled to show his appreciation.
She let out a breath. “Thank you. I hope you do not find it too much.”
“Not at all. It’s lovely, and far better than anything I could have done or ever would have thought to do. It is a touch of warmth. Perfect, in fact. I like it very much.”
He seated Florence beside him while Andrew escorted Hermia to her chair.
“I have also made a small change to the menu that I hope you won’t mind,” Florence said, still smiling over his prior compliment.
“I’m sure none of us will mind at all.” Trajan laughed. “I assure you, we Aubreys will eat anything that does not eat us first. What have you changed?”
“Well, I noticed that you particularly liked the mutton Cherish served at her house party last year, and—”
His eyes rounded in surprise. “You noticed that?”
She nodded. “You and I even spoke of it later that evening. In fact, you were raving about it. I liked it too. Cherish gave me the recipe, which I then gave to my family’s cook, but…”
His heart sank when he saw the lovely glow on her face suddenly fade. “Your family did not like it.”
He stated it as fact rather than as a question, because he was growing to understand how shamefully her family had treated her. If she were excited about something, they would go out of their way to squash the life out of it.
“We are all going to love it,” Hermia said, giving her niece an encouraging nod.
Trajan silently vowed to lick his plate clean even if he despised the meal, which he knew would not happen. Florence had planned their menu with love, and this was what he was determined to give back to her by the bucketful.
The mutton was served after the soup course, along with roasted potatoes and leeks.
His cousins did not fail him, either. All three of them devoured their servings like starving wolves, as did he. No one spoke other than to toss compliments at Florence between mouthfuls.
“This is even better than I remembered it,” Trajan declared, and motioned Edgar over to serve him more. “This is really, really good, Florence.”
“I refined the recipe a little.”
“Well done,” he said, pausing a moment between bites.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I had your staff test the recipe.”
Trajan laughed. “You had it served for their supper? Good gracious, you will have my entire household staff in your thrall. No wonder Edgar is struggling to hold back a smile. How did you like it, Edgar?”
His capable footman let out a breath and broke into a satisfied grin. “Best meal I have ever tasted, Your Grace.”
“And you, Alvin?” Trajan asked the other footman standing in attendance.
“Delicious, Your Grace. The staff is in raptures.”
