Hannah frowned at the mention of her mother’s “significant other.” She had no basis in fact, but she had the inkling that “Winnie,” as her niece Tracey called him, wasn’t precisely on the level. She’d asked Norman Rhodes, Carrie’s son and the man she occasionally dated, to check Winthrop out on the Internet. Norman had done it, but he hadn’t found anything shady about the British lord who was visiting Lake Eden “for a lark.”

Hannah pulled herself back to the problem at hand. “I think using the cake knife is a great idea, but as far as I know, no one is bringing a cake made from a Regency recipe.”

“Yes, they are, dear. You’re forgetting about Lady Hermoine’s Chocolate Sunshine Cake.”

“Lady Hermoine?” Hannah’s voice reached a high note that would have shocked the Jordan High choir director who’d assigned her to the second alto section. “Who’s Lady Hermoine? You know that’s my original recipe!”

“Of course I do, but there’s a slight problem, dear. You see, the knife is very valuable. I didn’t want to let just anyone use it, so I fibbed a bit.”

“What a bit?”

“I said that Lady Hermoine’s Chocolate Sunshine Cake originated a lot earlier. If it’ll make him happy, is there any harm in letting Winthrop think the recipe’s been in our family for hundreds of years?”

Hannah sighed. She didn’t like lying even when it was for a good cause, and Winthrop’s happiness wasn’t high on her list of good causes. “Your fib won’t work Mother. My cake uses frozen orange juice concentrate and that certainly wasn’t around back then!”

“That’s all right. Winthrop won’t notice. And on the off chance he does, I’ll say the original recipe called for orange marmalade.” Delores gave a sigh and when she spoke again, her voice held a quaver. “That’s all right, isn’t it?”

Hannah thought about it for a second or two and then she caved. That little quaver in her mother’s voice always got to her. “All right, Mother. I won’t lie if Winthrop asks me straight out, but as long as he doesn’t, I’ll play along.”

“Thank you, dear! And now I’d better rush, Carrie’s picking me up in ten minutes and I still have to do my makeup.”

Hannah said her goodbyes and hung up, but the moment she placed the phone back in the cradle it rang again. “Mother,” she muttered, grabbing for the phone. Delores often called back immediately if she’d forgotten to say something she felt was important.

“What is it, Mother?” Hannah asked, not bother with a greeting. She had to leave her condo soon or she’d be late for work.

“I’m not your mother,” a male voice replied, chuckling slightly. “It’s Mike.”

Hannah sat down in her chair with a thunk. Hearing Mike Kingston’s voice always made her knees turn weak and her heart beat faster, but she took a deep breath and tried to ignore it.

“I called to find out who’s testing my pâté tonight.”