Finial’s feelings are hurt. Last evening, I informed my trusted valet, a war-hardened sapper who fought in the Crimea under my command, that I will decant the 20-year-old Château Ducru-Beaucaillou being served at my grand fête on the eve of my 70th birthday celebration Saturday evening myself. I should have known this would wound his professional pride and it has. Finial Jenkins Horan, an Irishman, is proud of his military career and life in service to Clan Oliver. He regards his duties with a seriousness and rectitude approaching religious fervor, especially each evening’s selection and presentation wine at dinner. I think myself evenhanded with Finial, never the martinet unless the circumstances require. Now I have a sullen valet moping about, moaning over claret. Ducru-Beaucaillou is, in fairness, a special exception.
© 2024 John Oliver
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