I might not have any money or have had the best education, but at least I’d always been free in my choices.
Then a truly beautiful man with dark hair and flashing dark eyes came in. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. Miles caught the direction of my gaze and grinned. “Prince Vikram Singh, son of the Maharaja of Pune.”
He called tall, dark and gorgeous over. “Hi there, Prince Vikram. Come and meet Lucy Swift.”
Prince Charming walked over and punched Miles gently in the upper arm. “It’s plain Vikram.” He glanced around and leaned in, “Or Vickie when they get drunk enough.” Then he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucy.”
He acted as though I were an honored guest, so I hastened to explain. “I’ll be one of the servers tonight.”
“Then we will try to behave.” His smile was as gorgeous as the rest of him, and he didn’t seem remotely bothered that I was here to serve. I liked him instantly for being gorgeous and having good manners. Unlike his pervy friend Charles.
Rafe and Hugo Percival Brown came in next. Hugo had a very commanding way about him. A bit like Rafe. Two more men came in behind them. They were closer to Hugo’s age and all wore the same uniform. One was tall, blond and gorgeous and about thirty-five, the other in his fifties, a bit chubby with a receding chin.
Rafe looked over and found me, and I excused myself and went to speak to him. He said, “It’s probably time to bring out the champagne now. We’ll all have the first courses together, and then the older members will go on upstairs while the younger members have the dining room to themselves.”
I nodded, though William had briefed me. “I’ll tell William we’re almost ready if you get everyone to sit down.”
I headed back to the kitchen. Pamela was just ahead of me, and I walked in right behind her. William glanced up at her. “There you are. Where have you been?”
“I was making sure the gentlemen had fresh cocktails, that’s all.”
He glared at her for a moment, but he didn’t have time for more. He said, “I’ll come in and pour the champagne. You two”—he pointed to me and Pamela—“put a plate in front of each guest. Violet, you watch the scallops. Any questions?”
We three shook our heads. “All right.” He removed his apron, unrolled his shirtsleeves and quickly donned the black jacket and was instantly transformed into the perfect maître d’ and host. Impressive.
“Remember, even if it gets hectic, once you enter that dining room, you will smile, move without haste, and see that glasses remain filled.” He’d already told us all this, but we all nodded once more. “Let’s move.”
Pam and I followed him into the prep room. He took two bottles of the expensive fizz, and we followed with the plates of food. The Gargoyles were all sitting at the table. They looked slightly stiff, but I could see they were ready to have a good time. Hugo Percival Brown sat at the head of the table and his son at the foot. The gorgeous blond man sat beside Hugo, and something about him made me look twice. For some reason he reminded me of Rafe. I didn’t know why, because his hair was fair, not dark, and he looked more Nordic than British. It was a certain power that I felt coming from him. I looked at Rafe and back at him, and I realized he was a little on the pale side. I’d assumed he was from a cold climate, but now I began to wonder. Could he be a vampire?
Chapter 4
While William poured champagne, he described each of the morsels on the elegant china. “Everything tonight is British-grown and -sourced in honor of St. George’s Day.”
As we were walking out, Hugo rose to his feet, ready to propose a toast. I felt he was waiting for us to leave before he did so.
We went back to the kitchen, and William once again swapped his dinner jacket for his apron.
The first course was baked scallops on a pea puree with marinated mushrooms. They were served on scallop shells, so they had a whimsical look to them.
“Why scallops? That’s not very British,” I said.
“In fact, they are British scallops, Lucy. But St. George was never even in England. He was a bit of a pilgrim, so the scallop is a fanciful way of celebrating that.”
“Really? They look good too.” Also, they smelled divine. I was really hoping there would be some leftovers after this so that I could try some of these amazing dishes that William had prepared. “Wait a minute. St. George, the patron saint of England, was never even in this country? Are you sure?”
“It’s what Rafe says. We chose St. George because of his bravery and for defeating dragons.”
“I’ll remember that if I have to fight off any Gargoyles.” Based on the pervy Charles, it was likely to happen.
This was to be a leisurely dinner, so William was waiting to serve each course until Hugo rang. That table might be a glorious antique, but there was a very high-tech communication system between the dining room and kitchen.
William went out twice more to refill champagne glasses before Pam and I were sent in to remove the first plates.
We removed the tiny appetizers and put the scallops in front of the dinner guests. I wasn’t sure how Rafe would manage. I’d seen him eat small quantities of food to be polite, but no doubt he and William had something worked out between them.
I only heard snatches of conversation, and it all seemed to be Cardinal College politics and regular British politics. While the older men were there, I suspected the younger men were on their best behavior.
When we got to the scallops, William allowed me to open and pour the wine (another fancy French one—clearly the British menu didn’t extend to the wines).
I was kept
