Page 34 of Miss Delectable
“It’s getting thick,” Benny hollered.
“Scrape the sides of the bowl frequently,” Ann replied. She stirred her pear sauce down, then took up the half lemon. “You removed the seeds.”
“The task wanted doing, and you are busy.”
Ann considered the lemon, the tartness it would add, the hint of substance on the tongue the texture of the sauce would acquire by association.
“When you kissed me, I was happy then too, Colonel.” She squirted lemon juice into the pot, inspiring another shift in the fragrance rising from the sauce. Five minutes more on the fire, and she’d have the result she wanted.
“Shall I take over stirring?” he asked, rising from his stool.
Heaven preserve her, she liked even standing next to him. Liked the sense that they were both enveloped in the heat from the stove and the scents from her concoction.
“Please, and I will inspect Benny’s progress.” Her hand brushed his as he took up the wooden spoon, and the contact reverberated through her imagination. She mentally poured a helping of his champagne into the saucepot, an experiment to try some other day, when she wasn’t tempted to moon over a man to whom a passing kiss had doubtless meant little.
Benny had done a magnificent job with the cream, and she paid rapt attention as Ann demonstrated how to cook a crepe. By the time Benny had tried flipping the last few herself—and done a reasonable job—the sauce was ready.
They ate their crepes at the wooden counter beneath the window, the wind and rain lashing what leaves remained on the oak tree in the garden, while the kitchen was warm at their backs.
“These are good,” Benny said. “As good as the blueberry crepes, but different.”
“When we make crepes again,” Ann said, “I will show you how to mix up the batter. We will find you a journal, Benny, so you can keep notes of your own and have a record of your progress as a cook.”
Benny sat a little taller on her stool. “I am going to be a cook, and everybody will say my crepes are the best in London.”
“See that they do,” the colonel said, crossing his knife and fork over his empty plate. “And more to the point, see that you make the regiment proud, Benny. Or do we call you Hannah now?” He rose and took his plate to the wet sink, while Benny stared hard at the two remaining crepes on the warming dish.
“I would like to be Hannah,” she said. “Benevolence Hannah Goddard. You’ll tell the boys, sir?”
The colonel’s expression was utterly solemn. “I will tell the boys.” He took his coat down from the drying peg before the open hearth and retrieved his hat from the mantel. “Miss Pearson, thank you for a delightful meal. I know Hannah is in good hands, and that means the world to me.”
He was saying good-bye in a way the girl herself could not fathom. This parting would change the course of her life, and the course of the colonel’s too.
“I will take the best care of Hannah, Colonel. She will want for nothing.”
Benny helped herself to a plain crepe, rolling it up and swiping it through the pear sauce on her plate. “’Bye, sir. I get to mix up the batter next time.”
“I am dismissed,” the colonel said softly. He tapped his hat onto his head and donned his coat. “Miss Pearson, good day and good luck.”
Another good-bye. Ann had served him her best pear sauce, and he was walking away. “I’ll see you out.”
“That’s not…” He fell silent. “Very well.” He gave Benny a quick, tight, one-armed hug while she munched her crepe, then followed Ann down the passage and up the short flight of steps that led to the garden terrace. “You will notify me if Benny needs anything?”
“Of course. A journal would make a nice gift from you. Pencils are better than pens for jotting down kitchen notes.”
“I will see to it.” He paused at the door, the wind whipping through the garden audible proof that his journey home would be cold and unpleasant. “Do you know when else I was happy, Miss Pearson?”
“Ann. We’ve cooked together. Please call me Ann.”And please don’t go. How many times was she destined to have that useless thought where he was concerned?
“Do you know when else I was happy, Ann?”
“Tell me.”
“When I was watching you stir that pot, when I was kissing you, when I was listening to you prattle on about when an apprentice is ready to take on desserts and meat dishes. I was happy watching you arrange an impromptu picnic on your terrace, and I will be happy when I recall all of those moments on the dark and chilly nights to come.”
He sent one last glance in the direction of the kitchen. “I will miss her terribly.”
His hand was on the latch. Ann caught him by the arm, though, of course, this man would come and go as he pleased.
