"I suppose you're right," she said, for lack of a better thing to respond with. He let go of her hand and she could feel the warmth lingering. She reluctantly turned toward the French doors that led to the garden, and she stared at it before squaring her shoulders. "If we must," she said with a chuckle.

"Needs must when the devil drives." Quentin says with a chuckle as they head back inside to finish the dinner party. The after dinner apartife was a glass of fine brandy served alongside a bundt cake, both of which were almost good enough to make up for having to be there.

Constance certainly had fine taste in brandy, but that could be said for a lot of blue bloods such as her. The older woman kept pointing Quentin out to her, saying certain things like, "Isn't he just a big bear?" Amelia would glance his way in amusement at what her mistress was saying softly in her ear like some giggling schoolgirl. So, she thought, Constance had a taste for men like Quentin and maybe that was why she invited him.

Quentin finished his meal and then leaned back in his chair. He continued to make easy small talk with any who asked him a question but unlike in the garden with Amelia he wasn't engaging. He had little patience for the kind of talk that occurred during the after math of a meal like this. Once people started to make the usual sounds of: "Oh, look at the time. It's getting late, really should start getting ready to go." He came to his feet.

Walking over to Constnace he gives the woman a smile. "Miss Harlowe, thank you for the wonderful time. Dinner was a delight and your choice in brandy was impeccable. I am afraid I have to retire for the evening but thank you once again for the invitation." He gives her a little bow as he does so. All proper form and propriety.