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Polk and Jonathan sat on either side of her, and Jonathan filled her wine glass.
“I say, Ashford,” the gentleman next to him said. “It’s been a fine party so far. Loved the ball last night, and the hunt today. And my wife and daughter had a splendid time at the ladies’ lawn party and luncheon.”
“Very glad to hear it,” Thomas said.
The gentleman gestured to a familiar-looking pretty young woman dressed in a mint-green gown seated about halfway down the table. “Have you met my daughter, Lady Lillian Foxworth?”
Thomas smiled at the girl, knowing full well that he would have no interest in her. “I believe I had the pleasure of dancing with her last evening, my lord.”
“She’s a lovely thing, really. Quite talented on the pianoforte and well read. She speaks French as if she were born there.”
Thomas expected things like this. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t had more ladies and gentlemen extolling the virtues of their offspring last night at the ball.
“She sounds very well accomplished, my lord.”
“Oh, she is. A beautiful young thing. Of course, I have to say that as the man who sired her.” He let out a chuckle.
Thomas was thankful when his butler, Montague, entered, followed by footmen dressed in tailored tailcoats made of fine wool. Beneath the coats, their waistcoats were a brightly colored green featuring the Ashford crest. The trousers were high-waisted and fitted, and they also wore crisp white dress shirts paired with cravats neatly tied in a bow.
It was appropriate for Montague to be wearing green. He had a fascination for exotic plants, and Thomas remembered sneaking into his quarters when he was young to admire them. He remembered seeing several species that he recognized—gorgeous orchids, delicate ferns, and colorful tropical flowering plants. He had been examining a plant with drooping branches, deep-green oval leaves, and small glossy berries in a hue of deep violet when Montague discovered him. The butler had been quite cross upon seeing him and the earl would later give him quite the talking-to about exploring the servants’ private quarters.
As Thomas surveyed the exquisite arrangements of flowers laid across the table, he made a mental note to ask for Montague’s input for the next event he hosted. Perhaps some of those colorful tropical flowers would really set his next ball apart from those of his peers. It would surely incur a bit of extra expense, but Thomas knew his estate could afford it.
But for now, the current flowers—mostly from local florists—would have to do. And they quite elegantly framed the starter course, which was a delicate consommé served hot and flavored with a hint of sherry. They also served freshly baked rolls still warm from the oven.
Once everyone at his table was served, Thomas gave a nod to signal that they could begin eating.
“I was hoping my daughter would be seated closer to you,” Lord Foxworth said.
“My mother sees to the seating,” Thomas replied.
“Of course.” The man cleared his throat and took a bite of a roll. He chewed and swallowed. “Excellent feast as always, Ashford.”
The man hadn’t touched his consommé yet, and the rolls, while warm and yeasty and delicious, hardly could be called an excellent feast.
Thomas took a bite of his own roll, stealing a glance over at the table next to where Tricia was seated. She seemed to be chatting animatedly with Polk and Jonathan.
He noticed that Lord Foxworth’s daughter was seated next to Lady Sarah Keating, a friend of Tricia’s.
His thoughts were interrupted by the lord once more. “Do you think you’ll choose a wife this season, Ashford?”
Thomas chewed and swallowed. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought, to be honest.”
“Yes, I see. I understand completely.”
Thomas nodded and brought his consommé to his lips. Drat, it was still hot, and he burned his tongue a bit.
Between Lord Foxworth chatting him on, the thought of Tricia between Polk and Jonathan, and dreading his talk with the viscount later, Thomas knew this dinner would not be enjoyable.
He glanced again over at Tricia and then forced his gaze back to his own contemporaries at his table.
He smiled and nodded as he ate, and when the footmen brought the second course—braised cod garnished with fresh sprigs of rosemary alongside tender turnips and asparagus tips—he realized he hadn’t touched his consommé nor finished his roll.
No mind.
He wasn’t feeling very hungry anyway.
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