At home she greeted Babbit as he opened the door for her. “Lord Ashton and I will be dining alone tonight,” she informed the butler. “I think it would be nice to have dinner served in the library in front of the fire. Could you ask Alphonse to come and see me in my sitting room.”

Babbit bowed and Petra made her way to her own cozy parlor, not bothering to go up to her bedroom first to get rid of her outdoor clothes. The chef, like most of Guy’s staff, had been in service to the Granville family for many years. He was slightly suspicious of the new Lady Ashton and Petra had gone out of her way to ask his opinion and generally acquiesce to his menu suggestions, but she had a very specific request for this coming evening.

“You sent for me, my lady?”

“Yes, Alphonse. Thank you for coming.” She smiled and gestured to a chair. “Please, sit down. I’d like to discuss tonight’s menu.”

Alphonse glanced pointedly at the clock on the mantelpiece as it struck four. “After the soup, I am preparing poached turbot with baby shrimp in brown butter, madam. It’s a favorite of his lordship’s. I am intending to follow that with roast pheasant in a game sauce, and to follow, a mushroom fricassee—”

“That all sounds splendid, Alphonse.” Petra interrupted him. “But I think three courses will be plenty this evening, well, four if you count cheese. We will forgo the fricassee. For cheese I would like you to prepare Welsh rarebit. Lord Ashton is very partial to Welsh rarebit. And for dessert, marron glacé. I happen to know that that is one of his absolute favorites.”

“If you say so, Lady Ashton.” Alphonse stood rigidly at attention, his expression impassive. “Will there be anything else?”

Petra swallowed a sigh. It seemed she hadn’t yet been granted full acceptance as the mistress of the house. “We shall dine a deux in the library at half past eight. Will that suit you?”

“Indeed, madam. If that will be all.” He bowed, turned on his heel and stalked from the room. How not to make friends and influence people, Petra thought. It wasn’t as if she’d really interfered with the man’s dinner. But he was a sensitive soul and a superb chef, whom Guy would be devastated to lose. She went in search of Babbit to discuss wines for the evening. At least the butler didn’t resent her suggestions. Not that she had many. The vast Granville cellars were still a mystery to her.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty