Chapter Sixteen
Mordecai found himself caught between relief and dismay. His stomach made an odd seesawing motion, as if it lifted and fell at the same time. He opened his mouth—and closed it again as the door swung open.
Two serving-men entered the room and began clearing away the meal. Miss Wrotham’s utterance seemed to hang in the air. Let. Us. Have. An. Affair. Mordecai wondered that the servants didn’t feel the weight and magnitude of those words in the room, didn’t sense the consequences gathering like thunderclouds over the table.
He sat in silence while the serving-men removed the plates and cutlery, removed the dishes, removed the tablecloth, refilled their wineglasses. He was acutely aware of Miss Wrotham seated across from him—and he knew she was equally aware of him. Let us
