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

territorial.
    As the younger children struggled with the soup course, Evangeline initiated what Elliot learned was a routine of discussing current events over dinner. Each person in turn was asked to raise a topic of interest to the group, and then a few moments of lively discussion—and occasionally a fierce argument—ensued. The subjects ranged from Mrs. Weyden’s interest in the regent’s latest bilious attack to Nicolette’s mention of the newest member of the royal family. Although undoubtedly too ill to comprehend the significance, George III had been blessed with a healthy granddaughter. A legitimate one, for a change.
    On the matter of the babe’s future, the table was loudly divided. The females agreed that the profligate royal dukes ought now to do England the favor of dying off without further issue and allow a woman to ascend to the throne. However, the men argued that the obnoxious duchess of Kent should be sent packing to her German relatives and the newest heir sent with her.
    “My dear friend Lady Bland has written me from town,” interrupted Mrs. Weyden in a gossipy tone. “Rumor has it that the regent has refused his brother’s request to name the baby Georgiana, in his honor. Instead, she is to take a Saxe-Coburg name, Alexandrina Victoria!” Upon this cruel bit of news, the entire table promptly agreed to throw their collective support squarely behind the new Lady Alexandrina Victoria and urge her forward to the throne.
    Given the lively enthusiasm and pithy commentary that followed, Elliot experienced a moment of concern on behalf of the royal dukes, worthless laggards though they were. But his worry was quickly forgotten when Theo seized his turn and commenced a dark and detailed narrative about the infamous exploits of a local highwayman who had been hanged just the preceding week. When, however, Theo began to expound upon the vivid specifics of the actual rope, platform, and gallows, as described to him in lurid detail by Crane the foot-man, his mother set down her wine glass with a sharp chink. “Oh, Theo! I vow, that is quite enough, if you please! Nicolette”—she gestured encouragingly down the table—“I collect ’tis your turn. Pray speak of something pleasant.”
    Nicolette cut a sly glance down the table toward her sister, then returned her gaze to Mrs. Weyden. “I call for a debate!” she announced regally.
    “A debate!” agreed Gus cheerfully.
    “Yes, let’s do,” chimed Theo. “Choose sides and throw us a topic, Nick!”
    Nicolette’s full mouth curled up into a mischievous smile. “I propose we debate upon the subject of who has been the handsomest guest to grace our table of late—is it Mr. Roberts or Squire Ellows?” Beside him, Elliot heard Evangeline gasp as if horror-stricken.
    “Oh, that’s gammon, Nick!” groused Theo. “ ’Tis of no consequence to us fellows!”
    “I vote for Mr. Roberts,” piped Frederica.
    “Oh, indeed!” chimed Michael. “I agree with Frederica. Squire is losing his hair on top.”
    “Children, children!” Mrs. Weyden’s voice was shrill now as she flapped her napkin admonishingly. “Such a want of comportment! I vow, this can hardly be described as proper entertainment for—”
    “Oh, on the contrary, ma’am,” interrupted Elliot dryly, pausing with his wine glass aloft, “I find it to be highly entertaining.”
    Mrs. Weyden stilled her napkin and turned to coo at him soothingly. “Poor Mr. Roberts! First we ignore you whilst we quibble amongst ourselves like barbarians. Then we scrutinize you, as if you were naught but some odd Elgin marble!”
    “Thank you, ma’am!” Elliot replied cheerfully. “Though I have hardly felt ignored, and surely every man must desire comparison to—to marble, was it?”
    Farther down the room, Gus and Theo snickered, having obviously chosen to misinterpret Elliot’s repartee. Across the table, Elliot spied Frederica giggling softly behind her hand. “Psst—Miss d’Avillez!”