The luncheon concluded with the heavy scrape of wooden chairs against the polished floor. The dining room, despite its grand windows and high ceilings, felt remarkably oppressive.
Aunt Margery was the first to rise. She dabbed at her mouth with a linen napkin and let out an exaggerated sigh.
"I believe we have had quite enough of the outdoors for one day," Aunt Margery announced to the table. She reached down to scoop Fifi the poodle into her arms. "The sun is simply too harsh. It ruins the complexion, bakes the skin, and quite frankly, it makes Fifi hazy. My health cannot tolerate another minute of it."
She looked pointedly at her nephew.
"The next activity will be held in the drawing room," Aunt Margery decided. "It is cool, it is civilized, and there are no insects."
Rowan merely nodded. He had no desire to return to the lawn.
