Malloren 6 by Jo Beverley

Author:Jo Beverley [Beverley, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-03-05T01:52:34.796000+00:00

As they sat, he assessed those nearby. Sir Rolo and Lady Knightsholme sat opposite. He was bluff and honest, and she bold, as the smile she flashed Ashart showed. She was the Malloren connection, though distantly.

On his right, Miss Charlotte Malloren, middle-aged spinster and gossip, her eyes bright, her ears doubtless perked for juicy tidbits.

Rothgar offered bisque from the tureen before him, indicating what others were available down the table.

Footmen stood ready to ferry dishes around.

Miss Smith took bisque in the way of one who doesn’t want to draw attention to herself. Ash declined, annoyed that her boldness had been so easily tamed.

Rothgar said, “I understand you have been enjoying my library, Miss Smith.”

Ash saw her almost drop her spoon into her soup, and braced to intervene, but she collected herself. “

Yes, my lord.”

“Did you enjoy anything in particular?”

Ash had to fight to hide amusement.

“I found the open books intriguing, my lord,” she said and he silently applauded.

“I try to choose pages to stimulate thought.”

“You!” It escaped and she blushed, but it seemed to bring her to life. What had been in those open books? Ash wondered.

“I was surprised to see a biblical selection preaching against the rich and mighty, my lord.”

“The rich and mighty should always remember the perils of their situation. Don’t you agree, Ashart?”

Despite a smile, the question was pointed. “Is it not the gods’ way, to bring low anything that threatens them in greatness?” Ash responded.

“And vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. Bread, Miss Smith?”

She declined, but was bold enough now to redirect the discussion. “I found Lord William de Malloren interesting, Lord Rothgar, if only because nothing unusual seemed to happen to him. We so rarely hear from the quiet voices of history.”

“And thus may have a false impression of the past.”

So, thought Ash. Was that supposed to mean that their family history was wrong?

“Stories about ordinary people would be tedious reading, wouldn’t they?” Maddie Knightsholme asked as the soup plates were taken away. She always liked to be the center of attention.

During the serving of the main courses, Ash had to deflect nosy questions from Miss Charlotte. Oyster stew, turbot, battalia pie. Beans. When he turned back, Miss Smith, Rothgar, and the Knightsholmes were talking about Italy.

“To think,” Ash said as he forked an oyster, “we might have met in Venice, my sweet. I was there in ”

fifty-five.“

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