Chapter 67

Dinner at Rochester Hall was always a grand affair, which was just the way Jane liked it. There was something wonderful about having her children and friends gathered around her table, eating, drinking and talking. The table in the formal dining room sat thirty people when all the leaves were inserted, but tonight it was perfect for accommodating the more intimate party of thirteen.

The doctor had come and gone, assuring Jane her son was well enough to dine with them if he wished and that he'd only suffered a minor concussion. With instructions to rest for the next few days, he'd exhibited the stubbornness he'd inherited from his father and come down for dinner. Jane snuck a glance at him, still concerned about the pallor of his complexion.