Jeremy sighed.
“I quite agree with you, Papa. Equally it is a very good sherry and I have enjoyed drinking it.”
“So have I,” Lord Fordcombe agreed, “and I don’t mind telling you, Jeremy, that I often long for a glass of claret. It is most depressing to think that our cellars are empty.”
When everything had to be sold to meet the previous Lord Fordcombe’s debts, his stock of choice wines had realised a considerable sum, but it had left the spendthrift’s son and grandson very thirsty.
Mariota placed the decanter of sherry, which she noticed, was only half full and two small glasses onto a silver salver she had fortunately cleaned only three days ago and hurried to the study.
Her father looked up and said,
“Thank you, my dear,” as she set it down beside him and added, ‘I am sure, Dawson
