I expected him to protest, but instead he went limp against his father, who lifted him in his arms.
“Lizzie, will you make him some tea with honey?” I asked.
“Yes, yes. I’ll bring it up,” Lizzie said.
As I followed Alexander up the stairs, I heard Mrs. Wu speaking in rapid Chinese.
Chapter 24
Alexander
* * *
I gazed at Quinn across a candlelit table. We’d started the meal with a few of Mrs. Wu’s sausage-stuffed dumplings and were now enjoying roast chicken. I’d had Jasper bring up a good bottle of wine from the cellar, which he’d decanted and poured before disappearing to check on Theo. He’d been sound asleep when I came down for dinner.
Quinn ate heartily and drank often from her glass. For such a sliver of a thing, the woman had quite an appetite.
She caught me staring at her. “What?”
“I enjoy your enthusiasm for a meal.”
She set down her fork. “It’s embarrassing how much I love Lizzie’s food. And those dumplings were the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Don’t tell Lizzie.”
“She would never forgive you,” I said.
“I’m feeling rather guilty about leaving her with all of the kids tonight, plus two more with the Wus,” she said. “And we took away her day off.”
“She offered,” I said. “Knowing the Wus would need her.” I’d promised to make it up to her next week with an extra day.
“Christmas is coming soon. We’ll kill one of the turkeys to eat for supper.”
“I hate thinking of the poor dears as supper,” Quinn said.
“They’re delicious dears. And anyway, that’s what they’re born for.”
“They live only to be slaughtered. How sad.”
I laughed. “It’s best to know one’s purpose.”
“I suppose.” She dipped her chin before tucking back into her piece of chicken.
When we’d finished, Jasper swept in to take our main course plates and replace them with a dessert of pound cake.
“What are your traditions at Christmas?” she asked after a scoop of cake.
“We attend church on Christmas Eve,” I said. “And then wake up in the morning to open gifts. In the afternoon Harley and Poppy join us for a meal. It’s the one day of the year I’ve convinced Jasper to allow the staff and the family to eat together. You?”
Tears moistened her eyes as she glanced toward the windows. “We also go to church and then home to a meal. Nothing like the feasts Lizzie makes, I can assure you. But a special day, nonetheless.”
“You miss them?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes. Every day. Christmas will be strange without them.”
“I understand,” I said. Someday, when I’d gotten her to agree to be my wife, I would bring them here. All in good time, I told myself.
Chapter 25
Quinn