all right?”
“You don’t dare go in.”
Edward laughed, a good sign.
She smiled back. “We had to add de Louriac fils and de Louriac belle-fille, and then I neglected to tell her straight off. Amélie, did I tell you we need to add two places?”
“Yes, Madame. All is here.”
Clare looked at the table and realized how foolish her question was; the settings were there, the two extra ones included. Amélie had already put them out. She laughed and shook her head. “But you knew that, too,” she told Edward. “You forwarded the message from de Louriac’s secretary.”
“We all have a lot on our minds,” Edward said. “Amélie, tout est très bien. Comme toujours. Merci.”
Amélie gave a little curtsy, as she would do for Edward, and blushed. Edward slipped a hand around Clare’s elbow. “Come. Tell me where we are with everything.”
Clare gave in to the pull of his hand, so warm and steady through the fabric of her sweater. This was when he was going to shut the door and tell her what had happened. There was some reason he’d come home at lunchtime on such a busy day, some reason for the shut door to the study. She walked with him into the study, sat down in the armchair across from the desk, and pulled out her little notebook just in case something would need to be added to her to-do list. Sitting there, waiting for him to say whatever he was about to say and knowing that Jamie was secretly down the hall, she felt as though she could almost hear Jamie’s breath pushing in and out of his shallow chest, as she’d done when he was a baby, leaning over his crib as he took his afternoon nap. She just had to keep her fingers crossed Jamie would stay put. One of the first lessons one learned in a life of diplomacy was that timing was everything. And now was not the time to break the news of Jamie’s latest disaster to Edward. If Edward found out what Jamie had done—and really she wasn’t sure what was the worst part of it, the cheating or the forging her signature and flying home without permission—he’d consider it his duty to speak with Jamie immediately. Not only did Edward not have time for that today, but Jamie might become defensive, in which case they would not be able to count on him to keep a low profile through the evening. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was that the best thing would be not even to tell Edward for the moment that Jamie was home, much less that he’d been suspended. She could reveal all tomorrow.
Edward closed the door and came around to sit behind the desk. His face looked calm; his expression pleasant and neutral. But she saw the set of his eyes and knew something serious was coming. He folded his hands over one another. “Two more de Louriacs, then?”
“The son and fiancée. They’re in Paris.”
“How lucky.”
“They’ll probably be better dinner companions than the parents.”
Edward laughed. “Oh, well, he’s an all right sort. Where will you seat Madame?”
“You want the fiancée, do you? I’m pretty sure she won’t be in a miniskirt.”
Edward laughed again, this time cracking his wide knuckles. They both knew he wasn’t interested in other women. “Just as long as the mother-in-law isn’t. What are we having?”
“We’ll start with baby asparagus and jambon de bayonne. And there will be some nice fish, with new potatoes in a spring-herb pesto, but I asked Mathilde to go very light on the garlic.” Edward wasn’t any bigger on garlic than he was on spices. “I think it’s going to be brilliant. Mathilde’s whipping something amazing up for dessert.”
“Literally, I suppose.”
“Oh, yes. She’s got her favorite instrument of torture going around as we speak. Well, second favorite, after the cleaver. She’s making her chocolates, of course. And fresh rolls. And, for the cheese course, I found some really nice cheddar. I bought oatcakes to go with it.”
Edward nodded. “Sounds super.” She stared at him
“You don’t dare go in.”
Edward laughed, a good sign.
She smiled back. “We had to add de Louriac fils and de Louriac belle-fille, and then I neglected to tell her straight off. Amélie, did I tell you we need to add two places?”
“Yes, Madame. All is here.”
Clare looked at the table and realized how foolish her question was; the settings were there, the two extra ones included. Amélie had already put them out. She laughed and shook her head. “But you knew that, too,” she told Edward. “You forwarded the message from de Louriac’s secretary.”
“We all have a lot on our minds,” Edward said. “Amélie, tout est très bien. Comme toujours. Merci.”
Amélie gave a little curtsy, as she would do for Edward, and blushed. Edward slipped a hand around Clare’s elbow. “Come. Tell me where we are with everything.”
Clare gave in to the pull of his hand, so warm and steady through the fabric of her sweater. This was when he was going to shut the door and tell her what had happened. There was some reason he’d come home at lunchtime on such a busy day, some reason for the shut door to the study. She walked with him into the study, sat down in the armchair across from the desk, and pulled out her little notebook just in case something would need to be added to her to-do list. Sitting there, waiting for him to say whatever he was about to say and knowing that Jamie was secretly down the hall, she felt as though she could almost hear Jamie’s breath pushing in and out of his shallow chest, as she’d done when he was a baby, leaning over his crib as he took his afternoon nap. She just had to keep her fingers crossed Jamie would stay put. One of the first lessons one learned in a life of diplomacy was that timing was everything. And now was not the time to break the news of Jamie’s latest disaster to Edward. If Edward found out what Jamie had done—and really she wasn’t sure what was the worst part of it, the cheating or the forging her signature and flying home without permission—he’d consider it his duty to speak with Jamie immediately. Not only did Edward not have time for that today, but Jamie might become defensive, in which case they would not be able to count on him to keep a low profile through the evening. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was that the best thing would be not even to tell Edward for the moment that Jamie was home, much less that he’d been suspended. She could reveal all tomorrow.
Edward closed the door and came around to sit behind the desk. His face looked calm; his expression pleasant and neutral. But she saw the set of his eyes and knew something serious was coming. He folded his hands over one another. “Two more de Louriacs, then?”
“The son and fiancée. They’re in Paris.”
“How lucky.”
“They’ll probably be better dinner companions than the parents.”
Edward laughed. “Oh, well, he’s an all right sort. Where will you seat Madame?”
“You want the fiancée, do you? I’m pretty sure she won’t be in a miniskirt.”
Edward laughed again, this time cracking his wide knuckles. They both knew he wasn’t interested in other women. “Just as long as the mother-in-law isn’t. What are we having?”
“We’ll start with baby asparagus and jambon de bayonne. And there will be some nice fish, with new potatoes in a spring-herb pesto, but I asked Mathilde to go very light on the garlic.” Edward wasn’t any bigger on garlic than he was on spices. “I think it’s going to be brilliant. Mathilde’s whipping something amazing up for dessert.”
“Literally, I suppose.”
“Oh, yes. She’s got her favorite instrument of torture going around as we speak. Well, second favorite, after the cleaver. She’s making her chocolates, of course. And fresh rolls. And, for the cheese course, I found some really nice cheddar. I bought oatcakes to go with it.”
Edward nodded. “Sounds super.” She stared at him
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