Chapter 11: Sit by Your Husband

On Sunday afternoon Willa took over the kitchen at Tarleton Hall.

The cook gave her the apron and stood back with her arms folded, pleased.

"Your grandmother's lamb," said the cook. "I haven't smelled that in this house since you left."

"Don't tell Grandpa it's hers. He'll say I stole it."

"You did steal it. She gave it to you."

Willa grinned for the first time in days.

She seasoned, seared, and braised. She stirred the potatoes in the fat until they browned.

Her mother came in twice to look, and both times she wiped her eyes and left.

By seven the dining room table was set for eight.

She went upstairs to change. When she came down in a simple dark green dress, the first guest had already arrived.

Jasper Quarles stood in the front hall with his coat over his arm.

He looked up. His eyes took in the dress, and his mouth moved a little.

"Miss Tarleton," he said.

"Mr. Quarles."

He was too polite to be real, and she had to look at the floor so she would not laugh.

A lawyer in a gray suit came in behind him with a leather folder.

Willa's father showed them through.

At the table, Ambrose sat at the head. Daphne sat on his right with Birdie in a high chair beside her, and Nolan beside the high chair.

Jasper was placed on Ambrose's left, with the lawyer opposite.

Willa was seated at the foot, next to her mother.

She served the lamb herself.

Ambrose took one bite and put his fork down.

"Needs salt," he said.

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