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place for herself next to Rhys, and Cal was pleased to find himself next to Isobel.
No sooner had the last guest taken his seat than the first course appeared: Priddy s
champion oak-grilled salmon with peppercorns and cream. A smallish sample only,
James was resisting the temptation to lick the plate when someone at the end of the
table set his crystal goblet ringing with a spoon.
The guests looked up to see Sergeant-Major Evans-Jones standing at his place.
 There is an old custom in the valleys where I was born, he announced,  that on
gala occasions such as this, the chaps help out with the serving so the dear ladies are
not left with all the chores. He paused, and added with a wink,  It s a long, long
night, after all.
Looking up and down the room, he called,  Are ye wi me, lads? Say aye!
There came a chorused Aye!, and the Sergeant-Major cried in his best
parade-ground bellow,  On yer feet, men! Let s show  em how it s done!
The menfolk rose and began clearing the first course plates and carrying them to the
kitchen, where a very surprised Priddy protested that she didn t want a lot of clumsy
men tromping through her kitchen  but Owen wouldn t hear of it. In no time, the
two of them had the next course dished up and served: haunch of venison, roasted
with fennel and herbs.
Among the castle s tableware, Priddy had found a half dozen silver platters large
enough to hold an entire haunch, and these were carried out, with great ceremony,
three to each table. Bowls of steaming vegetables followed: potatoes roasted in
dripping, braised carrots and parsnips with coriander, and apples baked with cloves,
brown sugar, and rum  all filling the hall with a magnificent aroma.
Six stout and trustworthy men were given the task of carving the haunches. The
bowls were taken place to place, and plates were filled. The next hour was presided
over by the clink of cutlery and the happy murmuring hubbub of conversation
punctuated by bursts of laughter and much passing of bottles. Could the Duke of
Morven s worthy claret ever have been put to such a noble purpose, James
wondered, or enjoyed half so much?
Cal and Izzy had plucked the best vintages from the cellar, and made sure the
glasses were generously and regularly supplied. Once during the meal, Isobel
appeared at James side with a bottle in her hand.  This, she promised reverently,
 is going to be magic.
Gathering the attention of all the nearby guests, she proceeded to uncork the bottle.
 Now, you ll have to drink this right away, she said, pouring a small amount into
each glass.  It won t last long, but it will be amazing.
As soon as she finished pouring, she raised her glass.  Slainte! She tossed it back
in a single gulp, rolled the wine around in her mouth, and swallowed.  Oh, that is
good. Her smile was dizzy with rapture.
All followed her example, and drank it down.
 Well? What do you think? she asked.
 It is  James searched for the right word, the flavor still alive on his tongue 
 utterly divine. Others volunteered other words: rhapsodic, ethereal, bottled light,
glorious, sublime.
 What is it? someone demanded.
Lifting the bottle, she presented the label.  It s a Château Lafite-Rothschild  she
paused, drawing out the suspense   of the year 1878. There were gasps of
astonishment all around.  When I found this, I knew we had to have it tonight. Isn t
it spectacular?
There was half a swallow left in James glass, and he took it. But the flavor enjoyed
only seconds ago was gone. It was as if the liquid in his glass had turned to ashes 
flat, muddy, dank ashes. He swallowed with difficulty.  Extraordinary, he
remarked.  It s gone. Vanished.
 I know. Izzy sighed in commiseration.  Wine that old only survives a few seconds
once the air touches it. But isn t it a miracle while it lasts?
Isobel moved on to delight some more guests. The glow of that rare magic
remained, however, and those who had tasted it were warmed to their very souls.
James exulted in the revelry. Everyone was happy and talking, life s cares and
burdens forgotten for a while. This was, he reflected, how a holiday was supposed
to be celebrated but rarely was: friends and loved ones gathered around the table for
a little foretaste of heaven. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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