“It has been quite some time since I have seen him as well.” Some form of regret clearly took hold of Lady Pelfry. “Although Sir Benjamin hears from him frequently, we do not see him often.” Lady Pelfry glanced at the small bunch of flowers she held. “We have brought these for you.”
“These are my roses? But they cannot be from my garden.” Grandmother Cavanaugh gladly received the small bouquet of familiar scarlet-colored roses but appeared confused. “How is it possible? I know mine are not currently in bloom.”
“These are from our rosebushes. Sir Benjamin took slips from yours years ago. Do you not recall?”
“Yes, why of course. What a wonderful surprise! I do thank you and Sir Benjamin. Will you see these are placed in water?” The handful of blooms was carefully passed to her companion. “And, Sutton, if you will be so good as to set them here”—Madam indicated the small table—“right next to me and my new silhouettes.” She glanced at Penny and added, “My dear Mrs. Cavanaugh had them made for me. Are they not lovely?”
Lady Pelfry turned her attention to the frames and studied them. “They are quite fine, indeed.”
“I do not recall seeing them yesterday afternoon when I read to you.” The most adorable crease appeared between Miss Lemmon’s brows during her brief moment of uncertainty.
“This is a new addition, arriving only moments before the both of you.” Grandmother Cavanaugh looked very pleased with the portraits. “My lady, I must tell you how much I appreciate your allowing Miss Lemmon to visit. She is forever bearing gifts from Manfred Place and spends an inordinate amount of time reading to me, as do Dr. Harding’s sisters, and dear Mrs. Cavanaugh, here.”
David’s grandmother was absolutely glowing. With each subsequent visitor, she appeared to flourish, her mood and health improving. She looked so very happy.
“We are all enjoying Emma’s story, Madam.” Miss Lemmon turned to address her sister. “Charity, you cannot imagine how entertaining it is or how much pleasure we glean from reading it together. It is most delightful to speculate on what will happen next!”
“I have found myself regretting that I have not been able to be here with you ladies.” Lady Pelfry sounded almost hurt at her omission from their group.
“But we have only recently finished with the first volume. Why do you not borrow it?” Grandmother Cavanaugh waved Penny toward the dresser where the book lay. “Then, perhaps, you might join us on occasion.”
“That sounds very well, I thank you.” Lady Pelfry accepted the book from Penny.
“There are a few chapters I have missed as well,” Miss Lemmon whispered to her sister. “Perhaps we can read it together, Charity.”
“I should like that,” Lady Pelfry replied, then turned her attention to Madam. “It is a shame you will not be able to join us at the table this evening.”
“I am hoping I shall be able to the next time you dine at the Willows.” Mrs. Cavanaugh sounded very determined to do just that and added, “I’m certain I will.”
“We do hope so. I know Sir Benjamin would very much like to see you up and about.” Lady Pelfry spoke freely for her husband.
“He is such a dear man, sending his home remedies and health tonics. I vow I do not know where I would be without him.” Grandmother Cavanaugh’s eyes grew dewy. “I do know but that is such a lowering thought that I care not to dwell upon it.”
“Which reminds me,” Lady Pelfry continued. “He has sent with us a bottle of the raspberry-flavored coughing draught. He knows you prefer it to the lemon.”
“That man is such a treasure!”
“Do you not think I am aware of exactly whom I married?” Lady Pelfry relayed with pride, and any ill feelings that lingered had vanished with praise of her husband. “I truly adore him.”
Mrs. Sutton then entered, carrying a small vase containing the roses. The flowers would bring Grandmother Cavanaugh much pleasure and somehow aid in her recovery. The companion announced, “Sir Benjamin was just entering the house when the dinner gong sounded. I expect Master David will be on his way down to the drawing room soon.”
“I’m afraid we must go now.” Lady Pelfry’s voice held a tinge of regret. “I thank you for the loan of your novel. Belle and I shall begin reading tomorrow. I expect we will not have time this evening.”
“It is too bad that you cannot join us. I hate to leave you alone.” Miss Lemmon managed to display an adorable, compassionate expression, showing her genuine empathy for Madam.
“Do not have a thought on my behalf, my dear. Sutton is dining with me tonight, and I am to have my first taste of beef broth.” The excitement of consuming what Mrs. Cavanaugh had been craving for nearly a week came close to overwhelming her. “Dr. Harding tells me a slice of beefsteak may soon follow!”
David stood at the portal of the drawing room and took in the sight of the guests. Sir Benjamin, it seemed, had just arrived and was now making his bows to the ladies. By the look of him, he had rusticated far too long. Any Town bronze had since faded.
The baronet was dressed in a well-fitting, burgundy-colored jacket and smart gray trousers. His neckcloth was worn not in an acceptable style but constructed in a casual attempt, with the limp linen simply tied and allowed to hang from his throat.
Merely setting eyes upon it prompted David to touch his Mathematical, assuring his linen had not suffered the same sad fate. He took notice of Miss Lemmon, in a pastel-pink frock, and Lady Pelfry, garbed in a dark shade of puce with one of those matron caps, who together resembled an assembly of spring flowers. Then there was Penny. She was a veritable vision, dressed in a gown of Pomona green, reminding David of the foliage that completed the floral bouquet. She completely, in his humble opinion, quite outshined them. Her cap, constructed from a very fine, sheer material, created the illusion of a halo. She appeared very comfortable and very much at home acting as the rightful hostess of the Willows.
“There you are, Mr. Cavanaugh!” Lady Pelfry’s summons left David no choice but to enter, ending his reflective study.
“Ladies! How lovely it is to see you all,” he greeted them. “You have awakened me from my reverie, Lady Pelfry.” After lifting her hand to his lips, he moved his gaze from her to her sister, then to his wife. Upon nearing them he confessed, “I was just taking a moment for myself. I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all,” Lady Pelfry replied. Her half-hidden, coy smile did not escape his notice.
David inclined his head and uttered, “Sir Benjamin. I am relieved you are present. I had feared we might have tarried too long this afternoon.”
“Not to worry, all is well.” The baronet shrugged. The women resumed their discussion, and the two males sidestepped away from the ladies to separate their conversations. They kept their voices soft. “It is a shame we were not successful in the field today.”
“Well,” David said with a great sigh. “One does the best one can, doesn’t one? Is that not why they call it sport?”
“You are correct. We made a valiant attempt, and that is all we can do,” Sir Benjamin, sounding somewhat relieved, replied. “You have an excellent outlook on life, sir.”
“What a gracious compliment.” David bowed to his neighbor, who in turn returned the gesture. He had every certainty Sir Benjamin had been sincere.
“I hate to let the ladies learn of our failure.”
“Never fear, I shall not breathe a word unless I am pressed for specifics.”
“If you are not, I am sure to be.” Sir Benjamin exhaled as if resigned to his fate. “My lady insists on involving herself in all my endeavors.”
“Then we shall face the humiliation together if need be.” David could not be any less concerned about any disappointment in their morning’s occupation. As far as he was concerned, the time spent in the field was a complete waste. “Shall we take the ladies in?”
“By all means,” Sir Benjamin a
greed.
“Lady Pelfry, if I may have the honor?” David offered his right arm to Lady Pelfry and his left to Miss Lemmon and led them into the dining room. Sir Benjamin escorted Penny and followed several steps behind.
David was ostensibly occupied, with a lady on each arm, but he spied the baronet speaking to Penny. Their heads were tilted ever so slightly closer, and her soft laughter was unmistakable to David’s ear. What was that rascal saying to her?
Lady Pelfry sat to David’s right, Miss Lemmon on the left. Sir Benjamin seated Penny, spending far too long at the task, before alighting in the chair next to his sister-in-law. David thought he was much too far from Penny and Sir Benjamin, he deemed, much too close.
“I hope you do not mind that we dine en famille,” Penny announced at the entrance of staff laden with the soup tureen and several covered dishes. “Madam insisted.”
“Of course not,” Lady Pelfry replied. “We are honored.”
The beef joint was placed near Sir Benjamin, while the roast chicken occupied the head of the table. The side dishes of vegetables were placed close to the center. A platter containing a wonderful fruit tart soon joined them.
“Ah, excellent, here are the parsnips we sent yesterday.” The baronet peered into the serving dish. “And boiled to perfection, I believe.”
“Did you find anything this morning, dear?” Lady Pelfry inquired with more than casual interest. “I know you were hoping to add to the sauce.”
“We were not as successful as I would have hoped,” Sir Benjamin replied.
“What was it you were hunting for, sir?” Penny asked him. A faint, nearly inaudible sigh—perhaps it was more akin to a groan, a sound with which she was all too familiar—came from the head of the dining table.
Hazarding a glance in that direction, she looked down the center of the table and detected, even at that distance, that her husband was most grievously displeased.
“We scouted round the birch orchard and paid particular attention to the small grove of poplars just to the south, yet we found nothing. I say we as if Mr. Cavanaugh and I could ferret them out. What I mean to say is: the dogs.”
“The dogs?” Penny did not quite understand.
“Yes, Sir Benjamin’s dogs hunt truffles,” David explained in an overly calm manner.
“Oh . . .” Penny managed but did not fully comprehend. “Truffles? I don’t believe I have ever heard of—”
“One does not eat them whole. They are shaved very thin and placed on many types of food, added to sauces, or used to flavor oils or butters. They have a most remarkable flavor. Truffles can transform a dish into something quite extraordinary.”
Penny had not heard Sir Benjamin speak with such fervor since sitting at the breakfast table with him at Faraday Hall more than five years ago. He had expounded upon the qualities and merits of oranges and to greater extent lemons, and she had suspected he could also include their close relation, the lime.
Gracious, it was amazing she could remember that in such detail after all this time. It was good to learn he had not limited his obsessions to citrus fruit and had branched out to include truffles. He was now going on about how they were fungi but quite unlike mushrooms despite their shared classification. The latter grew above the earth while the former grew underground, which made the use of trained dogs in their detection necessary—
“Sir Benjamin?” Lady Pelfry interrupted most politely.
The baronet stopped his discourse and gazed across the table at his wife. “Yes, my dear?”
“Your soup is growing cold,” she informed him.
He glanced at the dish before him and replied, “So it is. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cavanaugh. If the temperature of my soup drops, it will be inedible.”
“I quite understand, sir.” To Penny’s relief after a short dinner prayer, which she supplied, he took up his spoon and proceeded with his first course, allowing her, and the others at the table, to do the same. Before beginning, she glanced toward the head of the table and met David’s gaze, sharing a moment of mutual understanding of their present circumstance: their evening might not be enjoyed but endured.
Some minutes later, Sir Benjamin, having finished his soup, did not, to Penny’s relief, resume his discourse on the topic of truffles, mushrooms, or the fungi family.
“That was quite excellent.” The baronet rested his spoon in the bowl and sat upright. “I must thank you for allowing your children to visit Manfred Place, Mrs. Cavanaugh. To have playmates on our doorstep—I have never seen my children enjoy themselves as they have these past few days.”
“Lucy and Davy are quite beside themselves as well, Sir Benjamin. I, too, think it is due to the company of your children. Not to mention Miss Lemmon is most extraordinary. She always manages to have the most diverting activity scheduled for each visit.”
“I enjoy my time with my nieces and nephew, and the addition of your children makes the afternoon merrier!” Miss Lemmon commented.
It was noticeable to Penny that the four of them, she and the three guests, were enjoying easy dinner table conversation, while David, the host, did not participate. This meal was meant to be more of an extended family occasion where there would be friendly exchange.
“Would you care for any beef, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” Sir Benjamin arranged the slices on the platter.
“Thank you, Sir Benjamin.” The boiled parsnips on Penny’s plate now lay alongside her slice of beef.
David had, without a word that Penny could hear, supplied Lady Pelfry and Miss Lemmon each with some portions of the roasted chicken on his end of the table. They had helped themselves to the vegetable dishes and the fruit tart.
During the quiet interval that passed while the diners were occupied with their plates, the room grew quiet. David slid a forkful of chicken into his mouth and took his time chewing, clearly savoring the flavor. It had no sauce or truffle enhancement. The bird had been roasted under Cook’s watchful eye only a few hours before. Penny had learned it was his favorite and wondered if the joy of consuming his meal would diminish if he learned their dinner had previously resided at Manfred Place.
David thumped his right fist three times on the table and with his eyes tightly closed proclaimed, “This is absolutely delicious!”
Chapter Fifteen
David managed to survive the meal and the dessert course. He consumed a bite of cake, several nuts, and some fresh fruit, no doubt supplied from Sir Benjamin’s orchard or an exotic shrub basking in one of the baronet’s sublime conservatories.
Oh, he had had quite enough of Sir Benjamin!
It was as if Penny could read his mind. As he deposited the unwanted remainder of cake on his plate, she addressed their guests.
“Shall we ladies remove to the small parlor?” Penny rose from her chair, and the two other ladies followed.
David could hardly wait to be done with the meal. There was not a question in his mind whether he would remain alone in the dining room with the baronet as was expected. He simply would not.
“I shall escort you, if I may?” Sir Benjamin rose and offered Penny his arm.
“Will you not remain in the dining room with Mr. Cavanaugh?”
“Dining en famille as we do, it is not my custom.”
“Very well, sir.” Penny accepted his escort, and they led the way out of the dining room.
“I hope you take no offence that Sir Benjamin does not remain after our meal.” Lady Pelfry was much better at the niceties than the baronet. “He truly does not do so. He neither smokes nor does he partake in spirits.”
Yes, David had noticed that. He was actually quite relieved at being spared isolation with Sir Benjamin. The baronet did not drink anything stronger than claret with his meals, did not wager on cards or dice, and horses—they were only used for transportation or to plow fields. Pelfry was a different sort, all right. Not at all the ty
pe of fellow with whom David would care to keep company.
“Not at all, my lady. Shall we join the others?” David escorted Lady Pelfry from the dining room, trailing her husband, her sister, and Penny down the corridor to the small parlor. The fire in the hearth had been lit and made the room cozy.
Sir Benjamin halted near the sofa where Lady Pelfry ultimately sat by his side. Miss Lemmon came to a rest in the chair next to her sister. David eased into the chair that sat a bit away from them, back in the corner.
He had not cared for the thought of his children, his godchildren, spending time away from the Willows and especially in the company of Sir Benjamin. The dratted man behaved as if he were a saint and most people—not David—were of the same mind.
“Mr. Cavanaugh?” Penny, who occupied the overstuffed chair that Mrs. Sutton favored, did not need to turn far from Sir Benjamin to address David. “What was the name of that place you intend to bring the children? Where you rode the ponies when you were a boy?”
“That would be Beacon Hill,” David supplied. “The destination is not the hill itself but the adventurous passage along the ridge where there’s a sheer drop to the rocks along the shore that makes the journey particularly treacherous.”
“Oh, dear!” and “It cannot be true!” The two sisters gasped with what David considered adequate alarm of the perceived danger involved.
“Do not fear, ladies,” David reassured them. “The danger is only a recollection from my boyhood days. I hardly give it merit.”
There was an audible sigh of relief.
“The precariously narrow path on the crest line, I expect, is best described by my adult self as a broad, flat expanse and a well-worn trail. Furthermore, I am fairly certain the shoreline is nothing but the pebbled edge of a small creek that may not even contain running water.”
“I daresay if you plan to embark on such a dangerous journey, your children will enjoy it immensely!” Sir Benjamin chuckled.
“Never say so, my dear!” Lady Pelfry scolded her spouse. “How terrifying for the children! It is monstrous to purposely expose them to such a fright!”
An Elaborate Hoax (A Gentlemen of Worth Book 5) Page 16