After selling his ancestral estate, Archibald Colston decides to exchange the pastoral serenity of country society for a chance to make a new life for the Colston family in the wealthy elite of New York City. Upon their arrival, Archibald and his si...
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Lady Colston objected to the idea of "dining out" at a restaurant, calling it vulgar, verging on obscene. Archibald ignored the objection. Olivia was surprised to be invited, even more surprised that she had been invited on Harry De Rosier's suggestion. She held no prejudices against restaurants — especially not the Bowen which had a reservation list of New York's elite that was filled up months in advance. She tried to explain the Bowen's reputation for only serving the finest of New York society to her mother, but Lady Colton would hear none of it.
The Honorable Lady was left at home with her dignity intact and Archibald and Olivia headed to the restaurant alone.
The Bowen wasn't far from their new home uptown. It was on a quiet, tree-lined street in a three-story, brick building, with large windows in front that were lit with an inviting glow. They stepped out of their carriage, and from the sidewalk, they could see into the restaurant. Olivia watched as people without coveted reservations passed the brightened windows and craned their necks to get a glimpse of who sat at the tables within.
Inside, Olivia found nothing of the "vulgarity" her mother had believed would be found at a public restaurant. Instead, she found women and gentlemen, many of which were closer to her mother's age than her own, at tables covered in white linens. She was glad she'd thought to wear her pale blue, beaded silk Worth gown otherwise she would have been underdressed.
Two unfamiliar gentlemen in coattails stood when they entered the dining room, but Archibald seemed to recognize them. He introduced them to Olivia in turn. The first was a Mr. Conrad Turner. Upon closer inspection, she found the salt-and-pepper-haired man wore a dark magenta jacket trimmed in black satin. He gave her a warm greeting but tugged on his jacket as if he sensed her gaze. She wanted to tell him that she liked it, but she was swept into a greeting by his silver-haired companion.
"This is Mr. Jasper Green—" Archibald started to say.
"Jasper Green, genius producer and director of Operas," Jasper cut in before placing a kiss on Olivia's hand. Unlike his conspicuous friend, he wore a black dinner ensemble.
Olivia suppressed a giggle. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Green."
He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and guided her to a seat at their table. Archibald took the seat across from Olivia and Jasper took the seat to her right.
"Are we just waiting for Mr. De Rosier?" Archibald asked.
"Yes," Mr. Turner said, "But we might have to wait awhile. He tends to runs on his own schedule. I told the waiter not to wait for him—he'll join us in whichever course he can."
A card was placed on the plate before Olivia, which listed the chef's courses for their evening. As they waited for their first course, she glanced around the lavish dining room. The walls of dark, paneled wood with low-lit gas fixtures wrapped the guests in a feeling of seclusion—even though they share the room with a great number of couples. Despite the din of voices, Olivia felt as if she might have been at her own dining table.
