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.Bees and birds flew through the air, searching for pollen and prey; in the distance, she could see the smog that hung over London.She didn’t care what the factory owners claimed.Something that smelled so bad couldn’t be harmless to the poor humans trapped underneath.David – or, more likely, Laura – had laid out the tables carefully.Gwen, as David’s sister, had been allocated a seat on the high table, where she could see the other guests as they received their bowls of soup from the servants.David wouldn’t have experimented with exotic dishes from India or the Americas, somewhat to Gwen’s regret.The soup was a conventional chicken and vegetable: tasty enough, but not particularly exciting.Gwen supped it gratefully, her mind turning her mother’s words over and over again.Lady Mary had to be joking, surely.She couldn’t seriously expect Gwen to marry Master Thomas?But then, Lady Mary hadn’t had much choice in her own martial arrangements.Her parents had pushed her into marrying Gwen’s father; Gwen’s father hadn’t been offered much choice either.It made perfect sense to have parents choose their children’s partners, if only because parents were more given to cold calculation than youngsters in the hot flush of youth.But Master Thomas.how could anyone expect Gwen to marry him? Gwen liked him and respected him, but he was old! And Lord Blackburn was a monster in human form.The thoughts kept dancing through her head as the servants removed the bowls of soup and set out the next course.As Gwen had expected, it was ruthlessly conventional; roast beef, potatoes, boiled vegetables and gravy.A set of Yorkshire puddings – the sole gesture of unconventionality – was placed below her, inviting anyone to take one if they so wished.The servants carved the meat themselves, setting out dainty portions for each guest.As a child, Gwen had thought it hideously unfair that the servants didn’t get to share the meal; as she’d grown older, she’d realised that the servants probably ate up the scraps as well as having a little of the meal reserved for them in the kitchens.It was just never officially acknowledged.David had gone to a boarding school, Gwen knew, and it had shaped his tastes.Laura would probably have wanted to experiment more, but not at a dinner party.Gwen smiled at her sister-in-law, realising just how happy she looked.Oddly, she felt a dull ache within her heart.She had known that she wouldn’t find such happiness even before Master Thomas had convinced her father to allow her to study magic.Was it a bad thing to wonder if Laura didn’t have the intelligence to be unhappy, or should Gwen regret having the intelligence to realise that there was more to life than parties and children? Gwen’s horizons had been wider long before she’d ever met Laura.She chewed her meat slowly, noting which of the guests risked a glance at her before returning to their food.Some of the younger men – all unmarried, or their wives would have come with them – might well have been invited by Lady Mary, rather than David.Laura would have known better than to arrange casual encounters between Gwen and any young man, particularly without telling her in advance.Her mind kept returning to her mother’s words, desperately trying to parse out the meaning behind them.Had someone asked for her hand in marriage? And if so, who? Or had someone rejected her firmly enough to sting her mother? That would make a great deal more sense.The meal was finally cleared away and small bowls of ice cream placed in front of each of the guests.Ice cream was expensive, Gwen recalled; her father had sternly limited the amount they could eat as children.David was making a statement to his guests, confirming that his business interests were as strong – and profitable – as ever.Gwen smiled in memory, nodding towards her elder brother.David had pleased her parents; maybe they could be convinced to let her chart her own path in life.She remembered her mother’s face and shook her head.Lady Mary wouldn’t be happy until both of her children were married off to good matches.And then she’d probably start matchmaking for her unborn grandchildren.David tapped his knife against his glass and quiet fell over the garden.“I would like to thank you all for coming,” he said.His voice seemed to echo oddly in the silence.His expensive school had taught public speaking, training the children to mimic the words and styles of a Greek or Roman orator.Cicero’s speeches were still studied in public skills, as were the writings of Caesar and Pompey.“My wife and I are very pleased to see you all.”There was a long pause.“It is my pleasure to announce that we had good news yesterday evening,” he said, after a moment.“My wife and I are expecting our first child
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