Ida McKinley was as welcome as a wasp at a picnic. She was notorious for her surly disposition and gauche personal attacks, which was why she rarely made public appearances. Caroline looked serenely smug as she positioned Mrs. McKinley’s wheelchair at the conference table, then glided into the neighboring chair like a princess. With a smile at Clyde, she set a copy of Good Housekeeping on the table before Mrs. McKinley.

Clyde looked ready to choke. His eyes narrowed and his hands fisted, but Mrs. McKinley was sermonizing about the health of the troops, and he could hardly interrupt the first lady.

“The canned food served to our troops during the recent war was an abomination,” Mrs. McKinley pronounced. “What did those newspapers call it?” she asked, turning to Caroline.

“Embalmed beef, ma’am,” Caroline supplied.

Mrs. McKinley smacked the table before her. “Embalmed beef!” she said in a scornful tone and turned to Major Gilligan. “To send our young men overseas and feed them slop? I’m ashamed of our conduct. Ashamed! I certainly hope there is no embalmed beef on that contract before you.”

“No indeed, ma’am,” Major Gilligan said. “Magruder’s chipped beef is the only canned meat in the contract, and I can attest it is a recipe I myself enjoy. Our troops will, as well.”

Mrs. McKinley swiveled her steely gaze to Clyde. “You are Mr. Magruder?”

Clyde gave a stiff nod.

“Aiming to be Congressman Magruder, if the rumors are true,” Mrs. McKinley said.

“They are,” Clyde said. “I aspire to represent the great city of Baltimore.”

“It is indeed a great city,” Mrs. McKinley said. “Baltimore is the home of Fort McHenry and birthplace of ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ Next month the crown princess of Greece will be visiting, and her itinerary will take her through Baltimore. I can only hope there will be no counterfeit applesauce on the menu?”

“Of course not,” Clyde said, flustered by this unexpected turn in the meeting.

“Good, because some of the shoddy food I’ve seen in Washington never fails to amaze me. You should have seen the stale tea cakes I was served by the Ladies Temperance Union. You would think those women would have—”

Caroline placed a hand on the first lady’s wrist, and she immediately stopped talking as Caroline whispered in her ear, gesturing to the military contract on the table. Mrs. McKinley nodded and straightened, focusing her attention back on Clyde.

“Well, we aren’t here to revisit that luncheon, no matter how substandard the tea cakes. I need to be assured that the leading food manufacturer in this nation, led by a man who hopes to grace the halls of Congress, will not foist counterfeit applesauce on the crown princess of Greece.”

Clyde flushed and got to his feet. “If I am honored to meet with the crown princess, all will be prepared by the finest chefs—”