Mrs. Wynderhane, currently occupied with adjusting the angle of the butter knife beside her neighbor’s plate, started. “What on earth—?”
Lady Dunwick gave a self-deprecating laugh as the housekeeper returned with an elaborate centerpiece of glazed fruits and salmon-tinted roses. “A miscommunication among the staff. They set out the wrong centerpiece. My apologies.”
“No need to apologize,” Marta Gemmer said. “You could have left the other one. It was an attractive arrangement. Do you grow irises in your garden?”
“Yes, we do,” Charlotte chimed in, when the distracted Lady Dunwick didn’t answer.
As the soup was served, the conversation turned to local doings.
“We have quite the thriving art colony here,” Reverend Claymore said, looking proudly at his wife. “It is what originally brought
