“The trust was set up to protect Maisie,” I said to her.

Cole moved between me and his mother’s chair, his shadow falling across the mahogany table.

“You’re making scenes in front of the staff again,” Cole said.

“If you can’t control yourself, you don’t need to come to the dinner on Saturday.”

“I’m going to my husband’s birthday,” I said.

“Then behave like you belong at this table,” Cole said.

Judith picked up her tea napkin, folded it into a tight square and laid it next to her cup without another word.

Brooke took up her gold pen and wrote a name on the last seating card near the head of the table.