Liz Carlyle - [Lorimer Family & Clan Cameron 02] by My False Heart Page A

parlor, which, being far too small to accommodate a family of this size, had been converted into a schoolroom. In the rear was a door that undoubtedly connected to Evangeline’s studio.
    Elliot was greeted at dinner with all the bonhomie and felicity due an old friend, an honor that served to warm his heart while heightening his guilt. It soon became obvious that the entire family dined together, an unfashionable practice but one that Elliot found oddly charming. At the table, Evangeline and Mrs. Weyden were seated at the head and foot, and as a practical matter, the smallest children, Frederica and Michael, sat to their left sides. Much to Elliot’s satisfaction, he was placed at Evangeline’s right and somehow managed to fold his awkward length into the delicate chair without accident. As they were seated, the remaining family fell automatically into their places, filling every chair.
    Elliot, piously dropping his chin as Mrs. Weyden said grace, sent up his own fleeting prayer that a thunderbolt would not descend from the heavens to send his aberrant Presbyterian soul straight to the perdition it undoubtedly deserved. But Elliot evaded the well-deserved lightning strike yet again and, following the soft chorus of
amen
, relaxed in his chair and began to survey his lively companions, mentally summarizing what he had learned. Augustus, Mrs. Weyden’s elder son, sat across from Elliot. The young man, who looked about nineteen, was possessed of all the good looks, dapper elegance, and youthful charm of a Bond Street beau in the making. On the verge of adulthood, his brother Theo was about three years younger. Nicolette, Evangeline’s sister, looked about Theo’s age and seemed serene and rather sweet. The youngest Stone, Michael, was the typical, effervescent English schoolboy, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and easy laugh.
    On Mrs. Weyden’s right sat Harlan Stokely. Introduced to Elliot as the children’s tutor, Stokely was a thin, shortsighted fellow with narrow shoulders and soulful eyes that seemed permanently fixed upon Evangeline. Scanning the crowd, Elliot was left to wonder who normally took the chair at Evangeline’s right. The fact that he did not know was strangely disconcerting. From across the table, the youngest child, Frederica d’Avillez, looked up at him expectantly. “This is Wednesday,” she announced in a shy voice.
    “Indeed it is,” agreed Elliot, secretly pleased that the child seemed drawn to him but quite uncertain as to the significance of her statement. His confusion must have shown.
    “On Wednesday, we speak only German at dinner,” explained the little girl with a rueful sigh, “but my German is very poor. Thursday is Italian, and I am quite good at that.” Her gaze dropped back down to study her plate.
    Evangeline paused, a basket of bread in one hand. “Not tonight, Frederica,” she corrected the child gently. “Since we have a guest, tonight we shall speak only in English, please. Mr. Roberts would not wish to suffer through our rather rudimentary vocabulary.”
    Elliot glanced at her but saw only kindness in her blue eyes. She knew, he suspected, that he spoke not a word of either German or Italian and was giving him a gracious way out. “Thank you, Miss Stone,” he replied solemnly. “As it happens, I cannot speak it at all and must prevail upon Miss d’Avillez for future lessons.” His efforts were rewarded by a beaming smile from Frederica.
    To an outsider, the interaction of the dinner party was a fascinating exercise in group dynamics. Other than Gus, each child deferred readily and equally to both Evangeline and Mrs. Weyden in matters of discipline and direction. Together, Gus and Evangeline interacted much like grown siblings, while the two ladies obviously held each other in great esteem and genuine fondness. This circumstance appeared to Elliot an aberration of nature, for in his vast experience with the opposite sex, females were invariably treacherous and