resting her hands on the back of a Regency carver. ‘I’ve laid out place cards, so if you’d all like to find your seats …’ She turned to Nathan, who was standing by the door, fingers neatly laced together. ‘We’re ready for the starter now, thank you.’
Nathan nodded and slipped out of the room discreetly.
As Nicole took her seat, she glanced at Dante, who was sitting opposite her. He still looked rather anxious. Nicole felt a rush of sympathy for him. She tried to catch his eye so she could give him a reassuring smile, but he was too busy gazing in confusion at the battalion of cutlery laid out in front of him.
A few moments later, Charlie appeared, struggling under the weight of a heavily laden tray.
‘Charlie’s our porter,’ Juliet explained as the youth moved round the table distributing bowls of onion consomméunder Nathan’s hawk-like gaze. ‘He very kindly agreed to act as waiter tonight.’
At this, Gus’s mother, Eleanor, an elegant woman, whose good looks were spoiled somewhat by the vulpine curve of her mouth, gave her hostess a spiky look. ‘Don’t you have any proper waiters?’
‘There are so few guests it’s not worth hiring any,’ Juliet replied. ‘I usually serve the breakfasts myself.’
Eleanor frowned. ‘Isn’t that a bit beneath you, dear?’
‘Not at all,’ Juliet replied, picking up her soup spoon. ‘Actually, I rather enjoy it.’
‘Business is still slow, then,’ said Piers.
‘Yes, unfortunately. We’ve only got five guests at the moment. I’m hoping things will pick up in the summer.’
‘’Fraid we’re down to three now,’ Charlie said as he set down a basket of bread rolls. ‘Mr and Mrs Johnson checked out of the T. S. Eliot this afternoon. They found mouse droppings in their wardrobe.’
‘How embarrassing,’ Juliet murmured. ‘Ask Reg to put down some traps when he comes in tomorrow, would you?’
Eleanor gave a little shudder. ‘Do they have free run of the place?’
Juliet nodded. ‘I’m afraid mice are inevitable in an old place like Ashwicke, although we do try to keep them under control.’
Eleanor sighed. ‘I was talking about the guests.’
‘Oh,’ said Juliet, giggling at her mistake. ‘No, the guest accommodation is confined to the east wing. Dante and I have the west wing to ourselves – although guests do occasionally get lost and wander in by mistake.’
‘I wouldn’t care to share my home with strangers,’ Eleanor remarked.
‘Oh, it’s not so bad. Most of the guests keep themselves to themselves.’
Piers wiped his bushy moustache with his napkin. ‘Can’t think why you wanted to turn the place into a hotel in the first place.’
‘I’m with Piers on this one,’ Connor said. ‘I really think you’re being overambitious, Juliet. The hotel business is a tough old game, especially for someone like you with no experience.’
Across the table, Nicole glared at him.
‘I had to do something,’ Juliet said. ‘It’s the only way I can afford to keep the place going.’
Eleanor had the look of a hawk about to strike. ‘Gus must be turning in his grave.’
At this, Dante looked up from his soup. ‘The house is Juliet’s now,’ he said quietly, but firmly. ‘It’s up to her what she does with it.’
A heavy silence descended on the table. Yasmin looked at Eleanor and saw she was wearing an annoyed, tooth-achey expression. Fearing that an atmosphere might be brewing, she turned to her hostess. ‘This is delicious soup. You’ll have to give me the recipe.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t claim credit for it,’ said Juliet, flashing her friend a grateful look. ‘Chef made it before he left this morning.’
Another silence, and then Piers cleared his throat noisily. ‘So, Dante,’ he began in a hearty tone. ‘How are you finding life at Ashwicke?’
‘The house is awesome,’ Dante replied. ‘I had no idea Juliet lived in such a cool place.’
Eleanor bared her teeth in a parody of a smile.
Nathan nodded and slipped out of the room discreetly.
As Nicole took her seat, she glanced at Dante, who was sitting opposite her. He still looked rather anxious. Nicole felt a rush of sympathy for him. She tried to catch his eye so she could give him a reassuring smile, but he was too busy gazing in confusion at the battalion of cutlery laid out in front of him.
A few moments later, Charlie appeared, struggling under the weight of a heavily laden tray.
‘Charlie’s our porter,’ Juliet explained as the youth moved round the table distributing bowls of onion consomméunder Nathan’s hawk-like gaze. ‘He very kindly agreed to act as waiter tonight.’
At this, Gus’s mother, Eleanor, an elegant woman, whose good looks were spoiled somewhat by the vulpine curve of her mouth, gave her hostess a spiky look. ‘Don’t you have any proper waiters?’
‘There are so few guests it’s not worth hiring any,’ Juliet replied. ‘I usually serve the breakfasts myself.’
Eleanor frowned. ‘Isn’t that a bit beneath you, dear?’
‘Not at all,’ Juliet replied, picking up her soup spoon. ‘Actually, I rather enjoy it.’
‘Business is still slow, then,’ said Piers.
‘Yes, unfortunately. We’ve only got five guests at the moment. I’m hoping things will pick up in the summer.’
‘’Fraid we’re down to three now,’ Charlie said as he set down a basket of bread rolls. ‘Mr and Mrs Johnson checked out of the T. S. Eliot this afternoon. They found mouse droppings in their wardrobe.’
‘How embarrassing,’ Juliet murmured. ‘Ask Reg to put down some traps when he comes in tomorrow, would you?’
Eleanor gave a little shudder. ‘Do they have free run of the place?’
Juliet nodded. ‘I’m afraid mice are inevitable in an old place like Ashwicke, although we do try to keep them under control.’
Eleanor sighed. ‘I was talking about the guests.’
‘Oh,’ said Juliet, giggling at her mistake. ‘No, the guest accommodation is confined to the east wing. Dante and I have the west wing to ourselves – although guests do occasionally get lost and wander in by mistake.’
‘I wouldn’t care to share my home with strangers,’ Eleanor remarked.
‘Oh, it’s not so bad. Most of the guests keep themselves to themselves.’
Piers wiped his bushy moustache with his napkin. ‘Can’t think why you wanted to turn the place into a hotel in the first place.’
‘I’m with Piers on this one,’ Connor said. ‘I really think you’re being overambitious, Juliet. The hotel business is a tough old game, especially for someone like you with no experience.’
Across the table, Nicole glared at him.
‘I had to do something,’ Juliet said. ‘It’s the only way I can afford to keep the place going.’
Eleanor had the look of a hawk about to strike. ‘Gus must be turning in his grave.’
At this, Dante looked up from his soup. ‘The house is Juliet’s now,’ he said quietly, but firmly. ‘It’s up to her what she does with it.’
A heavy silence descended on the table. Yasmin looked at Eleanor and saw she was wearing an annoyed, tooth-achey expression. Fearing that an atmosphere might be brewing, she turned to her hostess. ‘This is delicious soup. You’ll have to give me the recipe.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t claim credit for it,’ said Juliet, flashing her friend a grateful look. ‘Chef made it before he left this morning.’
Another silence, and then Piers cleared his throat noisily. ‘So, Dante,’ he began in a hearty tone. ‘How are you finding life at Ashwicke?’
‘The house is awesome,’ Dante replied. ‘I had no idea Juliet lived in such a cool place.’
Eleanor bared her teeth in a parody of a smile.
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