I came into the dining room to see that Lady Hawse-Gorzley had outdone herself tonight. There were two large candelabras on the dining table and their light sparkled from silver and crystal. I could tell the guests were impressed, even the Wexlers. There were place cards at the table and I was seated between Colonel Rathbone and Johnnie Protheroe—which would not have been my first choice of assignment. Sure enough, we were only halfway through the first course, a hearty game soup, when I felt a hand on my knee. I pushed it off and pretended not to have noticed.

The second course came: John Dory in a caper sauce. And to my amazement I felt a hand on my knee again, only this time it was the other knee. Either Johnnie had grown very long arms or the colonel was also a groper. I pushed it away. Across the table I saw Darcy giving me a strange look as if he could sense something was not right. I looked to left and right of me then rolled my eyes. I think he understood and smirked.

A sorbet was served before the main course to clear the palate and no hands appeared. Then the main course was carried to the table: a splendid baron of beef, with individual Yorkshire puddings, crispy roast potatoes and a puree of root vegetables baked with a crispy top. Conversation lagged as everyone ate. Then, as plates were cleared, not one but two hands landed on my knees again. I decided this had to stop once and for all. I slid both my hands under the table and caressed each hand lovingly, a serene smile on my face. Then I picked up each hand and brought them together, carefully removing my own hands. It took them a moment to realize that they were holding hands with each other. I sensed a rapid movement and then each of the men sitting bolt upright on either side of me. Both had red faces!

The pudding was apple tart with Devon clotted cream, followed by anchovy toast savories. We ladies retired to the drawing room for coffee and were soon joined by the men.

“I think some parlor games are in order, don’t you?” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said, and she soon had us playing all the silly old ones like the minister’s cat. It was the sort of thing that I, as an only child alone with servants in a big castle, had rarely done while I was growing up and I loved every moment of it.