The Kingsley garden’s fountain murmured while tea and steak arrived.

Albert met her on the path. “You’re punctual.”

“You sent a car,” Celeste said.

“Tea first?”

“Always.”

They sat. The footman poured Lapsang; plates followed.

“I sat near a fountain once,” Celeste said. “It ended with someone wet.”

“Me,” Albert said. “I’ve forgiven the ...