“A toast,” Mr DeVere raised his glass, “To beauty.”
“To beauty,” the others chorused and drained their glasses.
Not to be outdone, Mr Edgcombe rose to his feet and bowed to Olivia, “To the fairer s*x, God bless them.”
Again, glasses were drained and immediately refilled as Olivia dropped her eyes.
Still sipping slowly from her first glass, Olivia gasped as Sir Peter Rowberry turned to her Master, “Doesn’t say much, does she, what?”
“Olivia does not speak at all,” her Master chuckled, “It is part of a little agreement we have, is it not, my dear?”
His hard eyes belied his apparent good humour and Olivia shivered, reading their unspoken message and remembering Cameron’s threat if she dared to speak.
“Damn me!” Sir Peter cried, “A silent woman. I’ll drink to that!”
Four more glasses w
