The clatter of my father’s cutlery touching his plate was deafening in the silent and mostly empty dining hall. It was almost enough to make me wince. It was definitely enough to make me set down my cutlery.
When my father was finished eating, we were all finished eating.
I eyed the last few mouthfuls of salmon and mourned for their flaky, herby goodness.
No one spoke as the dishes were tidied away. The only one that might have broken the silence was Gideon and he was working in town still. Once they were gone and the wine refilled, my father leaned forward, elbows planted in the table linen, and steepled his hands.
“We have housekeeping to discuss.”
I saw Eloise flinch out the corner of my eye, and heard her harshly swallow.
“Araminta,” my father continued, his gaze landing on
