“It’s a shame Dare is not here for dinner.” Mrs. Frost wore shades of violet again. Diamond teardrops shivered on her ears. “We need a man at the head of the table.”
“Not half as much, I expect, as he is needed outside. I’m sure he’s tired and...” Starling stopped, appalled that she had contradicted a lady.
Mrs. Frost took a spoonful of soup. “The accident was most unfortunate, of course, but he should leave the digging to the others. Gentlemen don’t perform manual labor.”
“True.” Mrs. Elliot wore emerald green, frogged with black braid down the front. “But he’s never been one to leave the dirty work to others.”
Mr. Elliot grinned. “I’m content to let him dig for hours in a muddy hole while I spend time with my dear wife instead.”
“Too, too flattering of you,” Mrs. Elliot said, her expression droll. “But only when you were told you were not needed outside.”
“But I am, of course, an Elliot of Bellamie Hall.” He leaned back, his eyebrows aimed with expectation at Mrs. Frost. “A gentleman born and bred.”
Mrs. Elliot rapped a finger on the back of his hand. “Don’t give Starling the wrong impression of you. She is your new sister-in-law and married to my favorite brother. Where did you two meet, Starling?”
Starling swallowed a spoonful of the green soup made from the peas she had shelled. “Ballarat,” she said, remembering Ellen telling her she’d had a long journey from a place she’d never been.
“Were you born in Ballarat?” Mrs. Frost blotted her mouth with her napkin.
Starling took a bigger sip of wine. That seemed to be the way to get used to the foggy taste. “No. I was born in Adelaide.”
“What was your single name?”
“Smith.” Starling drank down the rest of her wine. The second half tasted better than the first, rather like sugared rhubarb.
“I’ve never met a Smith. What did your people do?”
Starling wished Mrs. Frost would stop interrogating her. She cleared her throat. “My people’s main concern was with charity. I learnt business matters from Mr. Seymour, if that is what you are asking. He is an amazing teacher.”
“There speaks a loyal bride,” said Mr. Elliot. “As an old friend of Alasdair’s, Lavender was just making certain he had chosen the right wife.”
“If I don’t suit, he’ll put me off without a reference.”
The Elliots laughed. “I suspect you have him twisted around your little finger,” Mary said. “He could have chosen a wife from any amount of women, but he chose one fresh and sweet and unpretentious. There’s hope for him yet.”
Mrs. Frost raised her chin. “I was seventeen when I met him. Mama wanted new curtains for our formal rooms, and he came with samples. I was very struck by his looks. Such a handsome young man. But for my parents...” She shrugged. “I may well have married him, eventually.”
“It turned out for the best,” Paul said, finishing his soup. “I’m sure you were perfect for Richard Frost.”
Starling glanced at him. She’d thought his tone cynical, but Mrs. Frost appeared to take his words as congratulatory. “His father was a banker in England.”
“And Alasdair will always be in trade,” Paul said, leaning back and staring at the lady. “Despite making a fortune.”
“This is old history.” Mary raised her glass. “We should be toasting the new bride. To Starling.”
Mr. Elliot refilled Starling’s glass and everyone drank, though Mrs. Frost took the tiniest sip. Starling finished that glassful, then she noted the others also took only a sip. She realized she needed to copy their behavior to be the sort of woman Mr. Seymour would have married.
After Freda took the soup plates and brought in the next courses, Starling waited for Mary or Mrs. Frost to give her a clue as to which of her four pairs of knives and forks she should use. In the home, they’d never had more than one. She remembered Mr. Seymour saying ladies start first.
When the other two ladies didn’t appear to know Mr. Seymour’s rule, she steeled herself, chose the outer pair and began her poached salmon. She knew she had made the right choice when the others picked up their outer pair, too.
“Do you come from a large family, Starling?” Mary left her implements on the plate while she chewed.
Starling did the same. At the home, the only rule during meals was to eat quickly. The tables needed to be cleared for the mending of the laundered linen. “Very large. Lots of sisters.”
“How many?” Mrs. Frost asked in a cool voice.
“Eighteen at last count.”
Mrs. Frost gasped. “Incredible. I’m an only child.”
“There was just Alasdair and me. As I’m sure he told you.”
“He hasn’t been too forthcoming about his life,” Starling said with truth to Mary.
“That’s so like him.” Mary shook her head. “He doesn’t talk about himself, but I’m quite happy to talk about him.”
“Make yourself comfortable.” Paul raised his eyebrows at Starling. “This could be a long night.”
Mary cast a reproachful glance at her husband. “Alasdair was sixteen when Papa died. I was twelve. For the next four years, and without a word of complaint, he added to the warehouse in Melbourne and managed to send me to a boarding school. Then, he employed a manager for the business and left for Ballarat...to take advantage of the gold rush.” She flickered a look at Mrs. Frost.
Paul lifted his glass to the light and inspected the color of the wine. “He made good enough money in the first year to expand farther.”
Mary smiled. “Alasdair isn’t just lucky. He is also very smart.” She glanced at Lavender. “Usually.”
Mrs. Frost nodded. “He found gold,” she said, her tone regretful. “Unfortunate. Diamonds are worth so much more.”
Mary stared at her.
Mrs. Frost reached for the buttered asparagus. “Is it accepted that he worked in a mine?”
“Oh, he didn’t work in a mine,” Mary said in a casual voice. “He owned the land. I expect he had quite a few men digging for him.”
“He could be termed a mine owner.” Paul glanced at Mary.
“Yes,” Mary said firmly. She gave Starling a complicit stare. “Alasdair wouldn’t, of course, have been mining himself. Not when he was in Ballarat to consolidate our markets.”
Starling stared at the table, wondering about this story. She had seen Mr. Seymour dig. Apparently, rich gentlemen could only dig tunnels for altruistic purposes.
“In the second year, his mine struck gold and he made a fortune. Fifty thousand pounds!” Mary stared wide-eyed at Starling. “In the meantime, the business here was running at a great enough profit to buy Mama a grand new house and to send me to a finishing school. I met Paul’s sister there and...” She spread her hands.
“And how many retail establishments does Dare now own?” Mrs. Frost smiled as if not truly interested in the answer.
“Four. The original in Ballarat, the next in Adelaide, another in Prospect, and the latest in Kapunda. He sold the warehouse in Melbourne when he moved here. By the way, Starling, that’s a lovely gown. It’s the very thing, I swear. Where did you find it?”
“It came from Seymour’s.”