Well Read, Then Dead(86)
Wishing us a satisfying meeting, Ophie fluttered her fingertips and gave me a meaningful glance. “I have an assignment, so I can’t stay. In a bit Bridgy will be bringing out a treat I whipped up for y’all. Enjoy.”
Jocelyn, who’d been quiet a tad longer than I’d come to expect, took over the conversation with a lengthy harangue. Lisette was absolutely wrong. James did not intend us to doubt the governess’s sanity. Yada, yada, yada.
I found myself wishing Rowena had shown up. When she and Jocelyn battled with each other, at least they left the rest of us alone.
Maggie, who is the sweetest, most polite person, decided to take on Jocelyn.
“Well, let’s remember that the governess was awfully young, perhaps too young to be left in charge of such a forbidding household. The children’s uncle put too much on her shoulders. Of course being so young, she thought she was capable of more than she actually was. Time equals maturity.”
From the look on Holly’s face, I could see that Maggie’s comment, with its emphasis on youth, was a double-edged sword. The discussion continued until Bridgy brought out a tray of mini cream cheese tarts. I started to ask, but she headed me off. “Ophie made them during the morning lull.”
As usual, the sight of food brought the conversation to a grinding halt, so I suggested we decide on our next book.
Holly jumped and picked up the plate of mini tarts, offering to serve. Judge Harcroft graced us with one of his louder “clearing of the throat” noises, before suggesting we consider The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. He assured us that we would find the adventures of D’Artagnan and friends to be uplifting and filled with adventure, a sharp contrast to the Henry James book, which the judge declared to be tedious.
We all looked at one another nodding in agreement. I was rummaging through the bookshelves in my mind’s eye when Jocelyn snapped, “The Three Musketeers. That’s rich. Who are they? You and Delia Batson’s two mealymouthed nephews, all colluding to steal everything that woman loved most. You should be ashamed.”
Bridgy was at the counter. She lifted two pitchers, one of sweet tea and one of iced decaf. She put them right down again and glared at me as if I were the troublemaker. Clearly we would be denied our drinks until I stopped the coming battle.
“I think The Three Musketeers is a great choice. Does anyone else have an opinion?”
Holly, who was passing out paper plates, each with three mini tarts, handed one to Lisette and held the plate in her other hand just out of Jocelyn’s reach. “I think that’s a great idea. I saw the movie with Orlando Bloom when I was a kid. I’d love to read the book.”
Then she slowly handed the plate to Jocelyn, who said, “Thank you,” and pushed a tart between her lips, which I sincerely hoped would keep her mouth shut.
As if I, rather than Holly, had been the victor, Bridgy gave me an “atta girl” smile and brought over the pitchers. I stood to help her serve the drinks and glanced at the classics shelf. I was grateful to see three copies of Dumas’s book. I would hate to have to decide between giving one to the judge and one to Jocelyn. Now I had enough books for them and Lisette. I could catch up with Holly and Maggie later in the week.
The front door banged open and Ophie roared in like a hurricane.
“Thank the Lord y’all are up to the snacking part of your meeting. I need Sassy and Bridgy in the kitchen right away.”
Ophie disappeared into the kitchen while Bridgy and I exchanged “what now?” looks.
I smiled at the book club members, suggested they help themselves to drinks and followed Bridgy to the kitchen. We barely got through the doorway when Ophie puffed out her chest triumphantly.