The Suitors by Cecile David-Weill Page B

huts?”
    Internet, travel guide, or chamber of commerce brochure? I wondered, gazing heavenward for the benefit of my sister, I was
that
ticked off by his patter. Entranced by his erudition, my mother had stopped pretending to be impressed and had sincerely succumbed to his charm.
    Resignation gave way to fascination as Marie and I watched Jean-Michel and our mother together, spreading their tail feathers for each other like peacocks. We didn’t want to miss a second. After all, we had the entire weekend to have a go at the fellow. And if it amused them—Jean-Michel reciting his homework, hoping to shine, and our mother poaching our Honored Guest—then so much the better. Making faces, my sister and I would look over at each other occasionally, on the verge of hysterical laughter, while teatime became the cocktail hour before we’d even noticed. Guests in Bermuda shorts, sarongs, or dressing gowns, fussing around teapots of beaten silver, slices of pound cake, cherries, and pistachio macarons, had discreetly slipped away in relays to go change. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by women in cocktail frocks and men in bright jackets ordering pink champagne, mojitos, or cosmopolitans while nibbling on fresh almonds, black Nice olives, and peanuts. It was Marcel who roused us from our torpor by offering us champagne.
    “Heavens, whatever time is it? Marie, take Jean-Michel up to his room so that the poor man has a few moments to settle in before dinner!” exclaimed my mother, leaping up, while Marcel came over to let me know that the new head butler was asking to see me.

Friday, 8:00 p.m
.
     
    “Does Madame wish me to serve
à l’assiette
?” he asked me pointedly when I entered the butler’s pantry.
    Marcel and I exchanged pained looks; Gérard was way off the mark.
Le service à l’assiette
was the least of our preferences for serving at table, far behind the already debatable
service à la Beaumont
(named after Jean Beaumont, who laid claim to its invention), in which the attendant presents the serving platter between two guests, who must serve themselves at the same time. The rule on this point is very simple, however: this service is all the less elegant for being the most practical method and requiring the fewest servants. The most refined and, moreover, the most convenient service for the guest therefore requires the attendant to present the platter on the guest’s left, unlike
le service à l’assiette
, in which serving and clearing are done on the guest’s right.
    “Gérard—it is Gérard, is it not? Perhaps it would be best for Marcel to explain to you our way of doing things …”
    “It’s just that that’s how I served at the Khashoggis’. Adnan Khashoggi, 2 I don’t know if you know him?”
    Shamelessly tossing out the name of a former employer like that was just not done! Gérard was decidedly lacking in judgment, citing an arms merchant as a reference on questions of taste! Given the circumstances, however, I couldn’t pick and choose. After ascertaining that he had been shown his room and introduced to the staff, I left him to muddle through and hoped for the best.
    Marie and I met for a moment in my room.
    “Are you sure we should go through with this?” I asked.
    “Listen, we said we would, and we will.”
    “Yes, but how?”
    “
Surely
you don’t expect me to explain to you …”
    “What—that seduction isn’t rocket science, that it’s a question of
feeling
, right? But I’m too nervous for that to work, so help me out.”
    “Well, we start by dolling up. You swan out in décolleté, while I convey the idea of smoldering passion beneath my icy exterior. That way, there’ll be something for everyone. And then we’ll see!”
    “Fine, but we stick together, right?”
    “Obviously!” replied Marie. “Would you be a dear and keep an eye on Mummy’s seating arrangements while I go dress, because she’s quite capable of puttingJean-Michel right next to her, with