Page 106 of Keeping Kate
Epilogue
February, 1729
Entering Hopefield House from the courtyard, Alec heard crashes and muffled shrieks. His heart slammed and he broke into a run, following one corridor to another in search of the continuing shrieks. He shoved through the door that led into a pantry, seeing cupboards open, china and glasses stacked within—someone’s work had been interrupted, for dishes were being sorted in preparation for a wedding that evening.
Where were the kitchen servants, and who was screaming like the very devil? He ran onward, pushing open another door. Lily, he thought. And that was Daisy crying.
In his haste, he knocked over a stack of cups, hearing porcelain shatter on the floor as he passed. Another scream—that had to be Rosie, he realized. He ran into the kitchen and stopped short.
Squeals and shrieks echoed around the kitchen’s vaulted stone walls, and the sweet, rich scent of chocolate filled his nostrils.
Chocolate was everywhere: puddling on the stone floor, splattered on the scrubbed oak table, dripping over the hearth bricks and over the rims of two black kettles on the table. The smell was divine. And no one seemed hurt. Yet, his nieces were screaming. With delight, he saw then.
Three tiny, chocolate-smeared females peeked out at him from the other side of the broad, stout oak table in the kitchen. They were shrieking with laughter.
They were nearly coated in chocolate, little hands and faces smeared, ruffled gowns smudged, their hair tousled and sticky with the stuff. Rosie and Lily lifted their hands, waving, jumping up and down. Daisy was too intent on crawling away from Kate, who knelt beside her, to look toward her uncle.
Kate glanced up at Alec, a cloth wadded in her hand. She held Daisy’s skirt with one hand and wiped Lily’s face with the other. Daisy was struggling to get away, trying to dip her fingers into a sticky puddle of chocolate on the floor.
“My wee cabbage, you will not be doing that,” Kate said, pulling the child toward her. “Alec, help,” she implored.
“Uncle Alec, look!” Rosie, always the serious dark-haired image of Amy, was grinning ear to ear, laughing as she watched her sisters.
Alec folded his arms, watching, taking it in. They were safe, they were lovely, they were dripping in chocolate, and each one was so dear to his heart that he felt the wonderful ache of it expand in his chest. He laughed.
“You are all the sweetest sight I have ever seen,” he said.
“Not very helpful, sir,” Kate said, laughing.
“Uncle Alec, look!” Rosie pointed to the table, where Alec saw several shapeless blobs and a lacy web of chocolate adhering to the surface and dripping over the edge.
“Alec, take her, do,” Kate said as picked up Daisy and held her out. His bride was as smeared in chocolate as the girl.
Alec complied, reaching forward to take the child, sacrificing his jacket to the mess. “Whatever is going on?”
“Rosie, Lily,” Kate said, “tell your uncle what you have been doing.”
“We are making the eating chocolate for your wedding,” Lily said, as she swiped the cloth over the table.
“The eating chocolate?” Alec asked, keeping Daisy with him as she giggled and squirmed, leaving fragrant smears on his snowy linen. She pursed her lips.
“Kiss,” she said.
He kissed her cheek. “Sweet Daisy,” he said, laughing.
“She is not sweet. She is wicked naughty,” Rosie said.
“Rosie,” Kate said. “Wee Daisy could not have done all this by herself.”
“She spilled the pot,” Lily said. “Uncle Walter melted the chocolate and left it. And when it was cool enough, Rosie and I wanted to try something. But Daisy spilled the pot all over the table and the floor.”
“So you decided to paint yourselves in it?” Alec knelt, Daisy clinging, and began to help wiping the floor.
“We wanted to make wedding chocolates,” Rosie said.
“Wedding chocolates?” Kate looked at Alec. “Uncle Walter was in here earlier making something for the wedding supper.”
“Aye, he said so when I saw him in the shop just now,” Alec said. “Where is Aunt Effie? And Cook? Who the devil was watching the bairns?”
