Shrouded In Thought (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 2) by N. S. Wikarski

served.”

Chapter 5—Course Manners
    Euphemia seemed to forget her concern about Desmond Bayne as she busied herself assigning guests to their proper seats around the table. “As you can see from your placecards, Mr. and Mrs. Waxman, you’re opposite one another at the end next to Martin. Bessie, you’re on Mr. Waxman’s left and uh... Mr. uh... Bayne, was it? Yes, well, you’re opposite my cousin Bessie.”
    Desmond smiled waggishly. “Sure and it’s a lovely view I’ll be having with me soup this evening.” Bessie pursed her lips and nodded at the compliment. Her eyes were not smiling.
    “Let’s see now. Roland, you’re next to Bessie with Minerva across from you.”
    “Why, thank you, auntie.” Roland leered at the awkward young woman across from him. This had an alarming effect on Minerva, who was clearly unused to that sort of attention from a gentleman. She’d been nervously toying with an earring, which now dropped to the floor.   She escalated the awkwardness of the moment by managing to bump heads with Garrison as he dove down to retrieve it for her. Maintaining his dignity, the butler gravely stood and held forward the missing object. “Your earring, miss.”
    Evangeline looked on with an expression of pity as Minerva sheepishly reattached the bauble to her person.
    “Now, where were we,” Euphemia continued. “Oh yes. Engie, you’re next to Roland with Mr. Simpson across from you. Serafina, you’ll be next to me on one side with Theophilus on the other. There now, I think that accounts for everyone.”
    Desmond had already seated himself, apparently oblivious to the fact that the rest of the guests were awaiting their hostess’ signal. He had lifted a saucer and was studying the gold stamp on its underside. Euphemia glanced nervously at Desmond—a mild approximation of the look her husband was shooting in Bayne’s direction.
    Choosing not to make a point of his behavior, she smiled graciously. “Please, everyone be seated.”
    The gentlemen present, with the exception of Desmond, helped the ladies to take their seats. Minerva had to shift for herself which seemed less painful than being visited with the attentions of the gentleman to her left. The butler rushed to her aid once more as her mother looked on helplessly.
    Euphemia waited until everyone was settled before giving Garrison the command to begin.
    The butler nodded and officiated as several other servants bustled around the table filling glasses and presenting serving dishes.
    Through the first few courses of the meal little occurred of any note other than Freddie’s frequent attempts to gain Evangeline’s attention by staring at her and then rolling his eyes significantly in Bayne’s direction. He was met each time by a frosty glance from his friend. Finally he gave up and decided to wait for a more opportune moment.
    Meanwhile, Desmond seemed perplexed by the array of cutlery next to his plate. He picked up a shrimp fork and examined it as if it were a surgical instrument before deciding to use it to skewer his salad. Martin made no attempt to correct him, but Freddie noted the number of times the host ran his index finger irritably underneath his collar.
    The talk at Euphemia’s end of the table centered on Serafina’s visit. “I am so thrilled to have you here, my dear!” she exclaimed again.
    “Serafina has several speaking engagements in the midwest.” Theophilus offered an explanation for the benefit of Freddie and Evangeline. “She made such a stir at the last meeting of the Metaphysical Society...”
    Euphemia touched his arm conspiratorially. “Of which Theophilus just happens to be the president.”
    He smiled and forged ahead. “...that several of our members have begged her to attend private assemblies in their homes.”
    “Do you give lectures at such occasions, as well?” Evangeline sounded intrigued.
    Serafina’s wispy voice could barely be heard above the rattle of conversation and cutlery.