Chapter 10: Lord Blackthorn returns!!

Matilda set her glass down with a bit more force than necessary. "I assure you, I'm not. Now, let's discuss the menu. I was thinking of incorporating some exotic dishes this year. Perhaps something from the southern isles?"

"Oh, how daring," Gwendolyn replied, her tone a mix of intrigue and skepticism. "But are you sure the other ladies will appreciate such... foreign flavors?"

"That's precisely the point," Matilda said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's time we broadened our horizons a bit, don't you think?"

Gwendolyn's eyebrows rose, a mixture of surprise and amusement crossing her features. She leaned back in her chair, swirling the wine in her glass thoughtfully.

"My, my, Matilda. Broadening horizons, indeed. First a young, common-born assistant, and now exotic cuisine? You're full of surprises lately." She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving Matilda's face. "I must say, I'm intrigued. But tell me, darling, what's brought on this sudden desire for... expansion? Are you perhaps feeling a bit restless in our usual circles?"

Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was a sharp curiosity behind her words, probing for any hint of vulnerability or hidden motive in Matilda's unexpected proposition.

Matilda's eyes narrowed slightly, her smile turning razor-sharp. She leaned forward, matching Gwendolyn's posture.

"Restless? Hardly. I simply believe in evolving with the times, Gwendolyn. Something not everyone seems capable of." She paused, taking a deliberate sip of her wine before continuing. "Speaking of which, how is your husband, dear baron Edgar these days? I couldn't help but notice he's been rather... quiet lately. No more young ladies accompanying him to social events? Or has he finally learned the value of discretion?"

Her tone remained light, almost casual, but there was no mistaking the calculated sting in her words. Matilda's gaze remained fixed on Gwendolyn, watching for any flicker of discomfort or anger that might break through her carefully maintained facade.

Gwendolyn's smile faltered for a moment, a flash of discomfort passing across her face before she quickly regained her composure. She cleared her throat, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around her wine glass.

"Edgar is... well, thank you for asking," she replied, her voice slightly strained. "He's been quite busy with his business ventures lately. You know how men can be when they're focused on their work."

She paused, clearly eager to move away from the topic. "Now, about those exotic dishes you mentioned. Perhaps we could start with something mild, like spiced lamb from the eastern provinces? We wouldn't want to shock everyone's palates too severely."

As Gwendolyn hurriedly steered the conversation back to safer ground, a satisfied smirk played at the corners of Matilda's lips. She savored the moment, noting how quickly Gwendolyn had retreated when faced with her own personal affairs being discussed.

"Spiced lamb sounds like an excellent starting point," Matilda agreed, her voice smooth and controlled. "I'm glad you're open to the idea after all, Gwendolyn. It's so important to be... flexible, isn't it?"

The double meaning hung in the air between them as they continued their planning, the balance of power subtly shifted in Matilda's favor.

As the afternoon wore on, Matilda found herself growing increasingly impatient, though she hid it well. She steered the conversation back to the celebration plans whenever possible, eager to conclude their meeting.

"Well, I think we've made good progress today," Matilda said finally, setting aside her empty wine glass. "Shall we continue this discussion next week?"

Gwendolyn nodded, rising from her seat. "Of course, dear. I look forward to it. And do let me know if you need any help with your... personal matters. I'm always here for a friend."

Matilda's smile was tight as she escorted Gwendolyn to the door. "Your concern is noted, Gwendolyn. Good day."

As the door closed behind her guest, Matilda let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging slightly. She turned, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for something - or someone - before shaking her head and moving to pour herself another glass of wine.

Matilda had barely taken a sip of her freshly poured wine when the door burst open. Gwendolyn rushed back in, her eyes wide with excitement, her usually composed demeanor forgotten.

"Matilda! He's here!" Gwendolyn exclaimed, slightly out of breath. "I just saw him riding up the main road!"

Matilda froze, the glass halfway to her lips. She didn't need to ask who "he" was. The sudden tightness in her chest and the chill that ran down her spine told her everything she needed to know. It was the very reason she'd been on edge all day, why her eyes had constantly darted to the door.

Lord Blackthorn was back.

Setting down her glass with a steady hand that belied her inner turmoil, Matilda turned to face Gwendolyn. Her face was a mask of calm, but her eyes betrayed a mix of emotions - anticipation, dread, and something deeper, more complex.

"I see," Matilda said, her voice carefully controlled. "Thank you for informing me, Gwendolyn."

Gwendolyn, still caught up in her excitement, didn't seem to notice the sudden tension in Matilda's posture. "Aren't you thrilled? It's been so long since he was last here. I wonder what news he brings from the capital?"

Matilda's smile was tight. "Indeed. I'm sure we'll all find out soon enough." She moved towards the door, subtly ushering Gwendolyn out. "If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for his arrival."

As she closed the door behind a still-chattering Gwendolyn, Matilda leaned against it, closing her eyes briefly. Lord Blackthorn's return explained her sour mood, her distraction during the meeting, and her constant glances at the door. It wasn't anticipation she'd been feeling, but dread.

Taking a deep breath, Matilda straightened up, smoothing down her dress. Whatever Lord Blackthorn's return meant, she would face it with the poise and strength she was known for.