Class Act

40

Stone practiced his Cary Grant trick of tying his bow tie in a single, smooth motion, then got into his waistcoat, buttoned it, and settled his pocket watch and its gold chain into the pockets, then he got into the naval-length jacket.

Tara was passing his dressing room and stopped. “What sort of uniform are you wearing?” she asked.

“It’s the dress uniform of the Royal Yacht Squadron, which is worn in nautical situations. I’m wearing it tonight because our guest, and Felicity’s date, is the new commodore of the Squadron, Sir Thomas Callaway, whose wife is otherwise occupied this evening.”

“And is this a nautical situation?”

“The Beaulieu River is right over there and there are lots of boats moored upon it.”

“Are you going to invite Dame Felicity up here after dinner?”

“I thought I would leave our after-dinner disposition to you and Dame Felicity, once you’ve each had an opportunity to inspect the other and get to know one another. I will abide by the wishes of the two of you, whatever they may be.”

“So, you’re remaining neutral in the matter?”

“I’m remaining flexible. Do with me as you will.”

“What more could a girl — or two girls — ask?”

“I’m sure you’ll both think of something.”

She turned her back to be zipped, and Stone obliged.

“You’re very good at that,” Tara said.

“I’m better at the unzipping,” Stone replied.

“You will have that opportunity.”

They walked down the stairs and turned into the library, where Dino and Viv awaited, drinks already in hand. A young man poured Stone’s and Tara’s.

“What is that young man called in the household?” Tara asked.

“In the old days, he would have been called a footman, but nowadays we call him a bartender — or a stable hand, which is his day job.

“How was your day?” Stone asked the Bacchettis.

“Spent in bed, reading,” Viv said. “Mostly reading, anyway.” She batted her eyes at Dino.

“We went riding this morning and had a picnic lunch,” Stone said.

The door opened, and Geoffrey, the butler, called out, “Sir Thomas Callaway and Dame Felicity Devonshire.”

Stone introduced everyone who had not already been introduced. Felicity leaned close to kiss Stone on the cheek, and she whispered, “She’s scrumptious.” Stone winked at Tara, who blushed.

Callaway shook Tara’s hand. “It’s Tommy, if you please.”

“I please,” Tara replied, and the two of them began an animated conversation with the Bacchettis.

Stone momentarily had Felicity to himself, and he used the opportunity.

“I wonder if I might impose on your good nature?” he asked her.

“Do you wish someone shot?” she asked, archly.

“Well, that is devoutly to be wished, but too soon to act upon. I’d like to find someone in London.”

“Someone of some consequence, I take it.”

“Yes, an American Mafioso named Salvatore Trafficante. There is a rumor, unconfirmed, that he is staying at the Dorchester. If I know where to find him, I can have him watched.”

“Do you employ a watcher, or do you wish me to provide that service, as well?”

“I would not so impose upon you, but a location would make my life easier — and safer.”

“Stone, don’t tell me someone is after your scalp — not again.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And what, pray, are the circumstances?”

“Boring. A jealous lover.”

“I am shocked, but not surprised.”

“I don’t even know the fellow. We saw her on different occasions, and he assigned more importance to our relationship than was justified. Alas, he employs people who make people go away, and I am very happy, here on planet Earth.”

“Consider it done. And I may, in turn, ask a favor of you, before our evening is over.” Her eyes traveled toward Tara.

“I will leave that matter in your capable hands, and hers,” Stone said. “But I am here to assist in any way I’m asked.”

“You are a dear,” Felicity said, “and I’m sure, so is she.”

“You are an excellent judge of character,” Stone said.

“And of flesh,” Felicity replied. Then they were joined by others and she stepped aside. “Excuse me, phone call.” She walked to a corner of the room and spoke for a moment, then came back.

“Nothing that would require you to leave us, I hope,” Stone said.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. I would not allow myself to be torn away from this happy scene.”

In due course, they were called to dinner in the small dining room.

“I’ve seen your Hinckley in the Squadron marina,” Tommy Callaway said to Stone. “Very handsome.”

“Yes, I’ve abandoned the adventure of sail for the comforts of motorboating,” Stone replied.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Also, I was unable to find a woman willing to be both cook and foredeck gorilla.”

“It is a rare one who is highly qualified for both,” the commodore agreed.

“Also, for some reason, they don’t like being shouted at,” Stone said, “which is a big part of working the foredeck.”

“That way lies disaster,” Tommy agreed.

Stone looked down the table and took note of the animated conversation between Tara and Felicity, both of them talking right past Dino, who was trying not to look bored.

After dinner, they adjourned to the library for brandy. Bob left his place by the fire and graciously greeted each of the guests, presenting himself for a petting or a back scratch. He finally settled under Felicity’s hand, as if the proper place for it was on his head.

Somehow they had gathered before the fire with the ladies at one end and the gentlemen at the other.

“You looked bored during dinner,” Stone said to Dino.

“With the conversation, yes,” Dino replied, “but the cleavage was electrifying.”