“I spend a lot of time standing near tables where people forget I can hear them.”

Before Maddie could respond, a broad man with a gray mustache marched from the kitchen. Martin Cole managed White Oak Manor with the solemnity of a man guarding a national monument.

“Eli, a word.”

Eli stepped away. Martin did not lower his voice enough. “You are not here to entertain her.”

“I’m serving dinner.”

“Then serve it. Don’t encourage this.”