Xavier glanced at Mansfield with a hint of surprise. “Major General Ellington is remarkably young!”
Mansfield clearly recognized Xavier as well. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Vaughn. Your achievements in shipping are quite impressive.”
Xavier offered a modest smile. “You flatter me. But you, to have earned the rank of Major General at such a young age—that’s truly admirable.”
The two men exchanged the usual pleasantries. Noticing Joslyn bustling alone in the kitchen, Eleanor stood up. “You two keep chatting. I’ll go help out in the kitchen.”
“Go ahead! We can take care of ourselves,” Mansfield said with a relaxed grin.
Xavier’s eyes narrowed in amusement. “We’re all friends here—no need to stand on ceremony.”
Once Eleanor disappeared into the kitchen, the two men fell quiet for a moment until Xavier broke the silence. “Have you known Eleanor long, Mr. Ellington?”
Mansfield smiled. “About a year and a half, I’d say. And you, Mr. Vaughn?”
Xavier’s gaze flickered with something unspoken. “Eleanor and I go way back.”
Mansfield raised his brows in surprise. “You’ve known each other that long?”
Xavier paused, thinking. “It must be, what, seven years now?”
Mansfield’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? How did you two meet?”
A brief shadow crossed Xavier’s face. “I attended her wedding.”
Mansfield nodded, the implication settling between them. He sifted through what he knew of Eleanor’s past, then asked, eyes narrowed slightly, “So you know Eleanor’s ex-husband?”
Xavier nodded, but didn’t elaborate.
Mansfield lifted his teacup and took a sip. On the surface, their conversation was calm and courteous, but underneath, every word felt like a test, each smile edged with rivalry.
In the kitchen, Joslyn was busy slicing vegetables, glancing at Eleanor. “Ma’am, I’ve got everything under control here. Why not go keep your guests company?”
Eleanor continued slicing a cucumber into thin ribbons, speaking softly. “Let them chat for a bit. I’ll help you finish up the salads.”
The evidence was on display in the entryway: two bouquets of flowers, both from them.
Anyone who’d ever set foot in a florist’s could tell those arrangements didn’t come cheap.
Xavier wondered if his old friend Ian was aware that Eleanor had another serious admirer in the mix.
Around seven, Joslyn called everyone to the dining table, where she’d laid out a feast with loving attention to detail. The two little ones chattered away, their voices filling the room with cheerful chaos.
“Joslyn’s cooking is as wonderful as ever,” Mansfield said, praising the caramelized ribs.
Xavier, having just sampled a dish, nodded in agreement. “Truly delicious.”
Eleanor helped the children to some chicken legs.
“Mom, can we have cake after dinner?” Evelyn asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.

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