London's Late Night Scandal by Anabelle Bryant

Author:Anabelle Bryant
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2019-08-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“I don’t want to see a physician.” Talbot tapped the table linens with his pointer finger to emphasize this declaration. “I’ve come to London to visit Lord Whittingham at his Society. He invited me.”

“But Grandfather, we discussed this before we left Oxfordshire.” Theodosia looked toward the closest tables, her pulse launching into a panicked beat, her mind at the ready to react if necessary.

“There’s nothing wrong with me or my memory.”

“I didn’t say that, although it will be good to hear the physician’s knowledgeable opinion.” Compassion squeezed her throat as she uttered the words. “Why don’t we see the physician first and then when we’re finished, we can inquire if Lord Whittingham is accepting visitors? That way, we’ll both be pleased with our travel here.”

This seemed to mollify her grandfather, and perhaps the sudden stillness of their corner table deceived her into believing his displeasure had passed. No other reason could explain the heart-lurching startle when her grandfather slammed his fist hard enough to rattle the china on the damask tablecloth.

“Where is the marmalade? I specifically ordered marmalade with dinner.”

He hadn’t, and Theodosia knew it, yet she needed to calm her grandfather before everyone in the dining room witnessed her humiliation. “Excuse me.” A passing server snapped to attention. “Could you please send a message upstairs to room twenty-seven that Collins is needed at once?”

She’d hardly finished her sentence, the server on the move, when Grandfather stood, his face reddened with anger.

“You didn’t ask him for marmalade. I want marmalade.”

The room quieted and then, as if mistaking the outburst for nothing more than an anomaly, conversation swelled to refill its absence.

Theodosia rose from her seat, prepared to coax her grandfather from the room no matter they had hardly finished their plates. “We should go upstairs now if you’re finished.”

“I’m not finished. I can’t eat until I have marmalade with my meal.”

A tall gentleman, the same host who had welcomed them as they’d entered the restaurant, appeared beside their table, seemingly concerned about the unfolding disturbance.

“How may I assist?” He spoke politely, though his expression portrayed alarm.

“My grandfather would like some marmalade to accompany his dinner.” How foolish she sounded, but her heart thundered in her chest from a sickening mixture of dread and embarrassment. Hopefully, Collins would come downstairs immediately and mollify her grandfather. Until then, she had little idea what else to do.

“I’m sorry?”

Would he make her repeat the ridiculous request? She hemmed her bottom lip to bite back a scream of frustration. Why had she believed, hoped, envisioned, they might take a meal at the restaurant without cause for upset? If ever she doubted her grandfather’s failing mind, this episode would forever remind her it was heartbreakingly true. “Marmalade. Is there marmalade available to accompany the meal?”

Seeking to remedy the situation, the server continued in a low, congenial voice. “We don’t serve marmalade. Would you care to see a menu for a different selection?”

Grandfather was not to be waylaid, his reply increasingly insistent. “I don’t want something else.

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