Blanche looked at him slightly askance. “But you know about my delicate digestion.”
“To be sure Blanche, we are all aware of your delicate digestion,” his voice had now developed a definite edge.
“And of course that is my fault,” Blanche said.
“Not at all,” Darrius commented, “I cannot see that it is a fault sort of thing. No one holds you at blame for having a delicate digestion.”
Nonetheless, Blanche gave him a sideways look that did not bode well for private conversations at a later time. In a few moments, Wilson, the butler, came back with a plate of sliced neeps, a slice of cooked cabbage, and a mound of sliced carrot medallions.
“The cook begs your pardon, Miss Notley, and hopes that these offerings will be more to your taste.” the butler said, presenting them to her.
Blanche sighed dramatically. “The carrots will be good,” she said. “I cannot abide neeps, and cabbage would surely upset my stomach.”
Lady Carletane clicked her tongue at her daughter. “Blanche, you are being rude.”
“I am sorry, Mother, but I simply cannot eat these things,” Blanche said in some distress.
Mrs. Swinton spoke up, “If you will give me a list of the things that you like, Miss Notley, I will share them with our cook. He is a most accommodating fellow and I’m sure would be glad to prepare the kinds of foods that you enjoy.”
“I could not put him to so much trouble,” Blanche protested.
“I am fairly certain,” Darrius put in, “that he would find that much less trouble than trying to find something at the last moment that you might possibly eat. Really, Blanche, we are aware of your delicate digestion, but Mrs. Swinton has presented you with an excellent solution.”
“You always take her side,” Blanche complained. “Is this how it will be when we are married?”
“When we are married,” Darius said calmly, although inside he was seething, “you will be able to select the menu and confer with the cook yourself.”
“I had not thought of that,” said Blanche, “but of course you will have to have the things you want to eat.”
“Yes,” Darius said, forcing his tone to be pleasant. “to be sure, Iwillwant things that I can eat.”
“And you will be eating animal flesh in front of me,” she said.
“Unless we are going to be taking our meals separately,” Darius pointed out, “I will most assuredly be eating animal flesh in front of you.”
Miss Notley looked at her plate for a moment, pushing the little carrot medallions about upon it. “No one understands my sensibility,” she said. “I shall simply waste away from having improper food.”
No one at table knew quite what to say to that. It certainly put a damper upon the other diners’ spirits. Darius cut a slice off the chicken and offered it to his mother who accepted it graciously. The young constable on the other side imitated his host by offering a similar slice to Mrs. Swinton.
Lord Carletane, who was heartily enjoying a large piece of chicken and a dumpling, said with some severity, “Blanche, that is quite enough.”
Blanche looked at her father, but said no more.
Lady Carletane rummaged in her reticule and pulled out a paper-wrapped pastille and handed it to Blanche.
Blanche accepted it and nibbled at the edge of it.
“I simply do not know what we shall do,” Lady Carletane said. “I have made an appointment with a famous London physician to try to discover the cause of her delicate appetite.”
“A very practical solution,” the Duchess said. “This certainly is not something you want to have continuing on. It is to be hoped he can discover the cause.”
Darrius thought to himself,Indeed, no, we do not want this going on, and I tremble to think what my life will be like when I am married to this woman. Why could she not be more amiable, like Mrs. Swinton? She is so immature in her approach to everything, like a spoiled girl who has not gotten her own way and is not the center of attention.
Something of the sort must have been running through Blanche’s mind as well, for she threw down her napkin, and stood up.
“I am not a child,” she declared. “Nor am I feeble-minded. Right now, the mere appearance of that bird upon the table is making me feel bilious. If anyone wants me, I will be in the library. Mother, Father, you can collect me there when you are ready to go home. Pray, excuse me!” She left the room at a near run.
“Dear me,” the Duchess said. “I am sure no one meant to upset her so.”
