I’m having a ridiculously good time figuring out the seating chart for the dinner that Lady FitzCameron is throwing to celebrate the completion of the mural in her dining room.
I collect etiquette books and every year throw a black-tie optional dinner party with place cards and everything. The rules for figuring out precedence or are surprisingly sensible. You start with the guest of honor, or the highest ranking individual. Then the oldest. Next, the one who has traveled farthest and on down until you come to those who are regular visitors to the house.
So in my case, I’m trying to finagle the guest list so that it is inevitable that Mr. Dunkirk has to escort Jane into dinner. Will anyone care but me? Probably not, but it is making me think more about the other guests’ ranks, ages and positions in their fictional lives.
It’s wonderful to fill in little details for characters other than the main ones, isn’t it?
And you never know who will or won’t care about something. I find, when reading, that I care about the seemingly strangest things.
It’s true. And I finally realized that there was no way I could get Mr. Dunkirk to bring in Jane, but I could arrange it so that they were seated next to each other. Whew.