Chapter 9: The Dinner

The Ride house had not changed in the six years since Felix left it.

It had the same long table, the same portraits of dead Rides, and the same smell of polish and old money.

Tonight there were twenty at the table, uncles and cousins and shareholders.

Freddy sat at the head, in the chair their father used to sit in.

Felix took the seat at the foot and drew Casper into the one beside him.

Casper's new suit fit him now.

He sat very straight, and under the tablecloth his knee pressed against Felix's.

Neither of them moved it.

In the car Casper had not asked about the green stamp he saw on the invoice.

He had looked out of the window with his hands folded, and Felix had let the quiet stand, because it was not an answer for a car.

"So this is the groom," said an aunt with a rope of pearls. "Such a shame about the circumstances, dear.

"Is it true you were bought?"

"Auntie," Felix said.

"I only ask what everyone's thinking."

"I wasn't bought," Casper said, in a small clear voice.

"I was asked, and I said yes, and I'm sorry for it. But no one paid me."

The aunt sniffed.

Freddy lifted his glass.

"A toast," he said. "To the family. To the Rides, who have survived worse than a lost groom and a runaway husband."

"Runaway?" Felix said pleasantly.

"Well, you did run, little brother. Six years ago. We thought you'd be back by Christmas."

Freddy smiled around the table.

"He's a dear boy, but not much of a businessman. It's a mercy Father left the estate in steadier hands."

Felix cut a piece of lamb and said nothing.

Under the table Casper slid his hand across and laced his fingers through Felix's.

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