Hester Waring's Marriage by Paula Marshall

little more composed.’
    â€˜I am perfectly composed, Mr Dilhorne.’
    Hester made her voice as cool and firm as she could. To no avail.
    â€˜I said more composed, Miss Waring. Now I am going to ask my clerk to bring in something to eat. It is my usual habit at this time. I hope that you will see your way to sharing my nuncheon, and when we have finished we may have a little chat together on matters of mutual advantage, which is the sort of nonsense fine gentlemen usually talk when they wish to impress fools. But you are far from being a fool, Miss Waring, and we shall, I hope, meet on terms of equality.’
    Hester’s first reaction to this speech was, Where on earth has short-spoken Mr Tom Dilhorne gone to? as these Gibbonian periods rolled out. Despite her determination not to become even more indebted to him in the matter of food and drink than she already was, she found herself salivating at the mere idea of partaking of what Mr Tom Dilhorne thought was a good meal. Judging by everything else about him, it would be remarkably fine.
    â€˜I cannot imagine what business deal you can be proposing to me, Mr Dilhorne, but yes, I will take luncheon with you.’
    He rose, rang a small bell on his desk and Smith came in.
    â€˜The usual, no, rather better than the usual, Joseph, and for two today. As soon as possible, please.’
    Tom turned to Hester. She now sat almost crouched in her chair, her eyes as wary as a hunting cat’s.
    â€˜Come, Miss Waring, what shall we discuss? I believe that it is considered the thing for ladies and gentlemen to mouth polite nothings at one another when they are in our situation.’
    Nothing for it but to join him in his idiocies.
    â€˜We could discuss the news from home, perhaps.’
    Tom smiled his crooked smile again, and sat down. ‘Seeing that it is nearly a year out of date before it reaches us, I agree with you. It is certainly nothing.’
    Hester could not prevent a giggle from escaping. He greeted this with approval. ‘Excellent, Miss Waring. I believe we understand each other very well.’
    Several moments more of the most impolite banter followed, with each party trying to outdo the other in outrageousness. Hester had never felt so carefree in her life. Fun and banter were new to her and the ease with which she found herself responding to Mr Tom Dilhorne’s naughtinesses surprised her. Excitement gripped her to the degree that she thought that her head might fly off, it felt so light.
    â€˜You see how easy it is to engage in small talk,’ Tom said when Smith returned, carrying a basket of food. Smith then went over to the sideboard and fetched out china plates and silver knives and forks, more glasses, some spoons of varying sizes and fruit knives with delicate ivory handles. Drawing up a small drum table, he arranged these before Tom and Hester, finally handing each of them a damask napkin from a drawer in the sideboard.
    That done, he bowed and left, and Tom began lifting bread, butter, cheese, cold sliced meat and fruit out of the basket.
    â€˜I can safely say that I am able to recommend everything, Miss Waring, including this bottle.’
    He lifted another bottle of wine out of the basket and began to open it.
    â€˜You may not believe this, Miss Waring, but I am an abstemious man where drink is concerned. I am, however, prepared to make an exception today in your honour.’
    He poured her more wine in yet another elegant glass;this time she drank it with proper decorum, and began to attack the beautiful food, not trying to conceal her hunger, for she had scarcely eaten since Boxing Day. Tom watched her with approval, occasionally recommending to her the choicest titbits from the basket.
    The last thing that he lifted out was a large pineapple, which he divided between them. They ate it with a great deal of amusement, the sticky liquid from it running over their hands. Hester, now well into her third glass of