Vintage Pride by Eilzabeth Lapthorne Page B

doorway.
    Marcus led his wife and their guests into the dining room, which had a high, vaulted ceiling, and walls paneled in dark wood. Candles burned in plain silver holders and the crystal glassware shone in the reflected light.
    As host, Marcus took his place at the head of the table. Ethan found himself sitting with Thérèse to his left and Kim opposite him.
    A petite, dark-haired girl in a black dress and white apron who Ethan hadn’t noticed until now placed bowls of carrot soup in front of each guest. Meanwhile, Agathe poured wine for everyone except Thérèse.
    Once they had all been served, Marcus raised his glass. “Well, lady and gentlemen, thank you very much for coming to investigate the mysteries of our home. Here’s to explaining the unexplained.”
    As they tucked in to the soup, Kim said to Thérèse, “I never got the opportunity to ask you. When is the baby due?”
    “Two days before Christmas, would you believe?” Thérèse replied with a wry smile. “I told Marcus his timing is not so good.”
    “My kid brother, Donnie…his birthday’s the same time of year.” Kim helped herself to a chunk of crusty baguette. “He always used to complain that people would get him one big present for both occasions, which was never as good as getting two smaller ones.”
    “Marcus and I have talked about this,” Thérèse said. “We’ve agreed that the baby will have a second, unofficial birthday in the summer, a special day all to himself—or herself.”
    Ethan picked up on her choice of words. “So you don’t know what you’re having yet?”
    “ Non . We told the doctor we wanted it to be a surprise. All we needed to be sure was that there’s only one in here.” Thérèse patted her swollen belly. “You see, Marcus is one of twins. His sister, Marina, still lives in Bath. And they run in his family, though we’d always been told they would skip a generation. We do have names in mind, though. Alexandre if it’s a boy—that was my father’s name—and Anaïs if it’s a girl.”
    “Oh, that’s pretty,” Kim said, sounding a little wistful.
    The maid had returned to remove their bowls. Ethan hadn’t thought he had much of an appetite but when he gazed down, he was surprised to see he’d finished every drop of the tasty soup.
    “This wine is excellent,” he commented, taking a long sip, “though there’s a kind of leathery aroma to it.”
    “That’s due to the tannins,” Marcus said. He broke off from his own conversation with Dex, obviously wanting to show off his specialist subject. “You’re drinking a wine from the Haut-Medoc region, and the way the grapes break down in the fermentation process coupled with the soil in which they’re grown produces this very complex scent.” He put his nose to the lip of his own glass and breathed in.
    Kim laughed. “As long as it tastes good, I don’t care how it smells.”
    The main course had arrived. A beef stew in a thick, wine-fortified sauce, studded with onions and turnips and accompanied by mounds of creamy mashed potato. Ethan’s thoughts flitted to Jean-Luc. After all the guests around the table had been served, would Agathe take a tray of food up to him? If this château truly were the setting for a fairy tale, as Ethan had imagined when he’d first caught sight of it, then Jean-Luc was the Beast, locked in his turret room and waiting for the one who would see beneath his gruff exterior and win his heart.
    At the other end of the table, Pete and Leon were bickering over something. Ethan listened in for long enough to establish it had something to do with the fantasy football team Pete had put together then promptly tuned out again.
    Once the main course was over, Ethan expected the maid would fetch some kind of dessert. Instead, he was disconcerted to see her set a plate before him containing crisp, simply dressed lettuce leaves.
    Thérèse must have caught him staring in disbelief for she murmured, “This is the traditional