Underhill flew past them in a flurry of skirts. Amie was less than pleased Emrys had followed her inside, perturbed when he sat across from her wearing his ridiculous superior grin. Emrys made no reply to their comments, but his eyes flashed a score of different colors and Amie was starting to lose her mind. She was pleased to see at least Cook was displeased to see him as she was, judging from the way he shoved the stew bowl in front of the stranger so bits fell onto his lap, and muttered, “Featherbrains.” Underhill skipped from Reggie the Butler’s side to lean over her shoulder. She hissed low so only Amie could hear her, “Shame on you for disappearing all day in such a faerie fashion, Lady Wenderdowne. We were hoping to show you the Ballroom today. Sweet salamanders but we have enough mouths to feed without worrying over the Lady of the House.” Cook piped up as if he had been part of their conspiracy the whole time.
