“Ah, a fellow admirer of the magical arts. Tell me, my dear, have you any talents of your own that you’d like to tell me about?”
Katherine actually blushed. “None that could equal yours, sir, though they do say I have an uncanny way of reading others’ thoughts.”
“Really?” His interest appeared to fade slightly as if he knew the woman spoke falsely in the hopes of capturing his interest. He leaned back in his chair. “Can you tell me what I am thinking now, my dear?” he inquired evenly.
Serena didn’t find that too difficult. He believed Katherine Shaw to be a liar and a flirt.
A small furrow appeared on Katherine’s brow as she regarded him closely. “I would say that you are wondering what other talents I might possess, sir,” she offered suggestively.
It took all of Serena’s control to keep from choking on her soup at the woman’s delusions of her allure.
When Westcroft’s piercing gaze suddenly shifted to her, Serena quickly bent her head and coughed delicately into her napkin to cover her slip.
Katherine sent a quick scowl of displeasure Serena’s way before she turned back to Westcroft with a honey-sweet smile pasted on her lips. “In truth, sir, I have little abilities of my own, but I am most fascinated by yours.”
Dismissing her with a bland smile, he glanced about the table at each of the women before he replied, “I’m pleased to hear it. Wait until you see what I have planned for the main course.”
As if on command the servants entered and removed the soup tureen and the bowls. Next, they carried in a large silver-domed platter. Closing her eyes, Serena mentally groaned in dread of what his next feat of sorcery would bring. Once again, after the servants had placed a new setting before each of the women, Westcroft dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Serena opened her eyes just in time to see the domed cover lift itself off the platter and float over to a sideboard. Getting used to his displays of magical grandstanding, a few of the women sighed a collective “oh” at the succulent, well-basted and delicately seasoned goose seated prominently on a bed of roasted potatoes and carrots.
Next the knife and fork rose up from the table and crossed each other in a sort of salute. Then they turned and lowered their well-honed edges toward the bird, but the golden-brown goose got up on its sturdy hind legs and began to flap its crispy little wings as it attempted to escape being carved into serving bits.
The women’s delight quickly turned to dismay as the knife and fork began hacking at the bird despite its valiant effort to flee without flying. Allison and Susan both covered their heads with their gold-rimmed plates and ducked under the table, Melissa and Serena both rose and took a step back. Dorothy fainted, Georgina screamed while Frances and Caitlyn actually tried to catch the “running” bird. The fork stabbed at Caitlyn’s fingers while the knife took swipes at Frances’s hand. Then the hot, minted peas began flinging themselves at Katherine. When she screamed, both Allison and Susan started to cry.
Unable to ignore her cousin’s distress any longer, Serena glared at the man who watched them all like a hungry cat. “That’s enough! You’ve made your point quite clearly. Now leave them alone,” she commanded, knowing full well she was giving him exactly what he wanted, but her conscience wouldn’t permit her to do otherwise.
