silent figure who refused to eat with them, refused to communicate, refused to do anything but sit on his pallet and growl at anyone who dared try to speak to him.
There was only one person whose company Charles welcomed, and that, much to her sisters' confusion and wrath, was Amy, with whom he stayed up long after the others went to bed, quietly talking.
A week after he'd woken up, things finally came to a head.
Amy had roasted a joint of beef for supper. Sylvanus was at the sideboard carving it, and Amy had gone out to the larder for some milk when the captain got up from his pallet and approached the table.
Crystal thumped her tail against the floor and watched his progress. Mildred and Ophelia, already seated, exchanged hopeful, excited glances. Will grinned widely. Sylvanus turned around with the platter of meat and halted in surprise.
And no one said a word.
Amy came in, carrying a pitcher of milk. "Lord Charles?"
"I will dine with the family tonight," he said tersely.
Amy didn't miss the excited elbow jab that Mildred gave her sister. She set the pitcher down, and, slipping her hand into Charles's, guided him to his place. Her sisters' eyes narrowed with malice at the familiarity that she and the captain shared.
He stood stiffly by his chair as Amy hurried to the sideboard for a bowl of potatoes.
Ophelia was beside herself. "Oh, Captain, we're just delighted that you're finally joining us for supper! Why, it must have been horrible, eating all by yourself all these nights!"
"I have not dined alone, and the company was quite enjoyable, thank you."
"We're having roast beef tonight, Lord Charles," Mildred announced, as though the smell that wafted throughout the house was not enough reason for Charles to guess that fact for himself.
"I wouldn't have known."
"I just adore roast beef," she continued breezily. "It is one of my absolute favorite dishes."
"Mine too," Ophelia added. "Do you like roast beef, Captain?"
"I do. And did you cook it yourself, Miss Leighton?"
"Oh no, Amy makes all the meals around here."
"So I've noticed. She is a very accomplished cook."
"Oh, she's passably fair," Ophelia said, with an airy little laugh. "I'm a better one, when I put my mind to it."
"Are you? Perhaps, then, you should put your mind, and your hands, to it tomorrow. I daresay I would enjoy sampling your efforts and deciding for myself whether or not your claim is a valid one."
Ophelia's smug smile promptly vanished. She was trapped, and she knew it.
Will saw instantly what the captain was up to. "What a good idea!" he said loudly, earning a vicious glare from his sister. "You haven't cooked anythin' in ages, Ophelia! Why, I'll bet you're so out of practice that even the water won't remember how to boil for you!"
"I'm not cooking unless Millie helps me!"
"Do you mean that Mildred can also cook?" Charles murmured, raising his brows. "Dear me. I didn't know that either of you possessed such . . . talents."
"Of course I can cook! And I can make anything that Ophelia makes taste like slops in comparison!"
"I should like to see you try!" snapped Ophelia.
"Yes, so would I," mused Charles. "But since you are both so eager to prove your culinary expertise to me, perhaps Ophelia can cook tomorrow, and Mildred can have her turn the following day."
""I can't cook tomorrow, I have other things to do. Besides, Amy does the all the cooking around here."
Charles smiled thinly. "Yes, so I've noticed," he murmured. And then, his voice hardening, "As well as all the baking, sewing, mending, cleaning, washing, weaving, marketing, and soap-making. Rather a lot for one woman, isn't it?"
Ophelia stiffened. Mildred sucked in her breath. Will coughed, Amy quietly went back to the sideboard for the gravy, and in the awkward, tension-filled silence, Sylvanus decided it was high time to give blessing for the food.
"Dear Lord, we are gathered around this humble table tonight
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