Name cards had been placed all along the refectory table. With relief, Rose noted that she had not been seated next to Ernest who was a few places to the right across the table. Will’s name was also not on any card in proximity to her. All she had to do was endure dinner, she told herself, and then she could return to her sanctuary. Half of her prayed Will had come to his senses and left.
Will and John had availed themselves of a glass of punch each and were standing by one of the two massive fireplaces in the Great Hall.
“I can’t believe I let you force me into this,” Will ground out.
“High society is so small you will run into each other all the time, especially if you do business with Barrington,” John said airily. “Might as well make sure you can handle it.”
“Of course I can handle it,” Will snapped. John didn’t turn a hair. He just smiled.
“She did look amazing,” John whistled through his teeth. “Who would have imagined our Bluey would grow up to be such a beauty.”
“She was always a beauty,” Will snapped back, making John smile even more.
“Indeed,” he agreed.
The seating gong was eventually struck, and the two men took their seats a little further down from the center of the table. John and Will had been placed opposite each other. Will was flanked by two young women who appeared to be sisters and were overjoyed to be seated next to him, whereas John had an elderly couple on either side of him. John winked. Will was certain that some overly ambitious mamahad arrived first and shuffled the cards. He scowled.
Rose took a seat a little higher up the table, gathering the ample folds of her gown as she sat. She looked across at Ernest and the friendly-looking couple to his right, then to her right to look at the row of unfamiliar faces, and eventuallyher left to look straight into Will's eyes. He was only about ten people down the table on the other side. He was staring at her with a puzzled expression. Two lovely blonde-haired young ladies sat on either side of him. One of them was attempting to get his attention but he appeared to be oblivious to their conversation. Rose desperately wanted to turn away. His perusal made her extremely uncomfortable, but she seemed powerless to drop her gaze. Instead, she arched an eyebrow at him. And he looked away.
She observed him turning his attentionto the girl to his right as he took his napkin, shook it out, and smoothed it over his lap. He reached for his glass and tilted his head towards the young woman, as if listening to her, but Rose noticed he was actually looking at John across the table.
She felt Jennings at her arm. “Shall we begin, Your Grace?”
“Yes.” She bestowed a smile upon him. Then, spying a tiny spark of uncertainty in the old butler’s eyes, she placed her hand on his arm and whispered, “Good luck!”
It was not lost on her that Jennings had never served such a large event in the castle. She squeezed his arm encouragingly and looked up, straight into her fiancé's disapproving look. Ernest had obviously witnessed their interaction, and he no doubt understoodthat Jennings had asked herfor permission to begin serving instead ofhim.
Rose decided right then and there that Ernest and Will could take a running jump for all she cared. Ernest was not yet the castle's master, so he was not in charge of the servants. Will, on the other hand, had not been coerced into participating in this charade. She still had no idea why he had. He had even been the one to suggest she marry Ernest to advance his own aims. So he could sit at the table and brood all night if he wanted to.
But Will was not brooding. Not at all. He was now in animated conversation with both young women, and their tittering and laughter travelled all the way to her.
She stopped looking and focused on her soup.
When she looked up, she saw Ernest spill down his pristine vest. He dabbed at the spreading stain, clearly irritated. Rose suspected he was already deep in his cups since he was emptying his wine glass twice as fast as anyone else.
The main course was venison with roast vegetables from the kitchen garden, but everything tasted like paper to hertonight. She kept up a polite conversation with the man to her right, who turned out to be an actuary, and they talked about the difficulties of keeping track of the finances of a large estate.
After a dessert of crèmebrulée, Ernest rose unsteadily to his feet to propose a toast. He swishedhis overflowing glass forward, and the wine sloshed all over the tablecloth. He told the assembled guests how enthused he was to take over the duties of his ancestral home very soon. Rose didn't miss the glare he directed at Jennings. Then he motioned to herand asked everyone in the room to raise their glasses to his future bride.
“Some of you may be surprised at our intended union,” Ernest slurred, his drunkenness obvious. “But the duchess knows a good thing when she sees one.” A few of the women at the table gasped. Rose’s eyes flew to Ernest’s. It was not a sentence said in joking affection. “For decades, I was barred from what was rightfully mine, but now the scales have tipped back the right way, and I will have what I deserve.” He looked directly at her as he swayed. “And she is definitely what I deserve,” he laughed lasciviously and took a huge gulp of wine from his glass.
Rose immediately got to her feet to cut him off.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said loudly, partly so everyone down both ends of the table could hear her but also to override him. “I am sure all of our guests will join me…”
“Don’t interrupt me!” Ernest shouted at the top of his voice. “I am the Duke of Norfolk, and this is my castle. Everyone in it, including you,” he raised his finger and pointed it straight at her, “will do as I say.”
He slammed his hand against the refectory table, causing the china to bounce and clank against the wood. There was silence. Rose cast a quick glance at Will. He was staring at her and strangling his napkin between his hands. She was well aware that he was primed to intervene, which would be disastrous. She moved her head almost imperceptibly, giving him a "I'll handle it" glare she hoped he understood. He didn’t stand up.
Rose turned back to Ernest and forced a smile, even though nothing he had done or said deserved one. “Quite right, Your Grace,” she said loudly. “This is indeed your castle and your home, and so very wonderful it is too. Jennings?” She turned her attention to her butler, who looked almost as mutinous as Will. “Would you be so kind as to refill the Duke’s glass and ensure everyone else has what they need for the toast?”
Rose’s voice was so strident that even Ernest did not object as Jennings reached him with a fresh bottle. She caught the gazes of some of the women sitting near her, and they looked horrified and impressed in equal measure.
Ernest sat down unsteadily. Rose waited until everybody was assured of a full glass and then took it upon herself to lead the toast.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to raise your glasses to the Duke of Norfolk, back in his rightful home, and to a very prosperous future for all.” She raised her own glass and held it extended towards Ernest. “To the Duke.”
She made no mention of herself or the engagement, but Ernest did not seem to notice. Instead, as each person intoned, perhaps less enthusiastically than Rose, “To the Duke” he resumed his feet, with a steadying hand applied to the tabletop, and nodded his gratitude.