The door swung open and Edith bustled in, her fleshy cheeks high with sweaty color. She wiped her hands on her flour-streaked apron and cocked a thumb toward the door. "Supper is ready, sir."
He drained the last of his drink and set the empty glass down on the mantel. "Good."
Edith didn't move. Nervously she pushed a straggly strand of hair back into her white cap. "Selena wanted you to join us."
"Us?"
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A slow, sheepish grin pushed through the wrinkles. "She's a force to be reckoned with, that she is, sir. Why, from the moment she began speakin', I haven't found a wee moment's peace. She wants to change every rule and custom to fit her curious brand o' logic. Said she'd run round naked if we didn't let her wear pants." She grinned. "Pants."
"What in God's name are you babbling about, Edith?"
"Selena, sir. She refused to eat unless we made an event out of it. Starved herself for two days, she did, until we agreed to serve supper in the dining room." "The residents eat together!"
" Tisn't half-bad, I must admit. There's a wee bit of food tossin' sometimes, but other than that ..."
Maeve floated into the study, her long white skirts trailing behind her. "What's taking so long, Edith?" She stopped beside Ian and cocked her head up. "Are you coming?"
He stared at his mother. "Are you suggesting I eat with the inmates?"
Maeve frowned and picked at the pale pink ribbon at her throat. "I'm ... demanding it."
Ian looked down at her in shock. "Excuse me?"
"This is my house, I believe?"
"Yes ..."
Maeve grinned, as if she'd just answered a most confusing query. "Yes, I thought so. As owner and Edith's employer, I shall make a new rule. No eating in bedrooms."
"Mother, you cannot-"
"I have. Now, Edith, serve supper. My son and I shall be along shortly."
Edith bobbed her head in a quick show of deference, then hustled out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.
Maeve moved closer to Ian. "I will not let you hurt her, Ian."
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"What do you mean?"
"Selena has been practicing her table manners for weeks. She would be heartbroken if you didn't show up at supper."
Ian stifled a quick urge to smile. This was an opportunity he hadn't even considered. To watch Selena's dexterity at complicated tasks, see how her impaired brain function impacted her motor skills. "Lead on, Mother."
She frowned at him, then slowly turned and walked out of the parlor. He followed her down the hall and into the dining room.
The scene that greeted them stopped Ian in his tracks. The room was full of people. Lara, Andrew, Johann, Dotty, Queen Victoria, Edith, and Fergus were all seated around the oval mahogany table. A dozen candles dotted the table, casting quivering pockets of light atop the burgundy tablecloth. A large silver tray held a still-sizzling roasted turkey ringed in baked carrots and onions. Beside the bird, two pewter bowls held mashed potatoes and turnips. Scattered randomly in between the serving dishes were apples, nuts, pieces of hard candy, and pickles.
"Rather odd assortment of food," Ian murmured.
"To feed a rather odd assortment of people," Maeve responded. She clapped her hands for attention. "Ian has consented to sup with us."
A roar of approval went up in the room. Ian's gaze cut to Johann, who sat sprawled in a chair, one leg drawn up, his arm draped across the knee. A half-empty glass of wine dangled from his long fingers. Johann gave him a slow, sarcastic smile and tilted his glass in a mock toast. "Why, Doctor, how nice of you to join us. I'm so sorry I missed your reunion today with the goddess." His smile graduated into a grin. "Such a staggering misdiagnosis...."
Ian ignored Johann and turned back to the table. For the first time, he noticed the room's decorations. Bright