Page 12 of A Moveable Feast
“After you discover why the cook was given laudanum, of course.” Daniel’s eyes twinkled in the faint gaslight from the road.
I frowned at him. “Do go away if you will only tease me.”
Daniel laughed, which loosened me enough to smile back at him.
He ceased his laughter abruptly, stepped to me, and caught my mouth in a kiss.
I was too surprised to stop him, and truth to tell, I did not want to. I savored the warmth of it until Daniel eased back and regarded me with an unreadable look.
“Good night, Kat,” he said softly.
“Good night, Daniel.” I quickly turned and took my leave before I’d be tempted to stay.
I slept that night in a tiny room next to the butler’s pantry, which had obviously once been used for storing wine and other foodstuffs. The wine bottles were gone, but their racks remained, a bunk shoved into the narrow space between them. The nook was set up for when extra help was needed in the house, Mrs. Seabrook explained to me.
There was no room for Tess. Mary offered to let her bunk in with herself, Jane, and a downstairs maid, but Jane made her disapprobation known.
“I can barely sleep with you two kicking me,” Jane told Mary. “I don’t need a third pair of feet at me.”
“Tess can return to Mount Street for the night and walk back in the morning,” I intervened. “It is no great distance.”
That was true, but the night had grown dark, and Tess glanced nervously at the high windows. I helped her into her coat and guided her to the back door.
“Daniel is lurking,” I whispered to her. “He’ll see you home safe.”
Tess brightened at my words. “I’ll be here first thing,” she promised before she slipped out.
I hoped she’d treat herself to a good long rest, which was more than I’d obtain on the lumpy cot.
I was proved correct about the bed’s discomfort. I woke very early in the morning, out of sorts, but washed my face and hands, donned my clothes and apron, and entered the kitchen ready to work.
No one was stirring yet, and I got much done before the others, including Tess, arrived an hour later. Mary and Jane were surprised that I had bread baking and hash frying for our breakfast, as well as the ham basted and ready for the oven. Tess, used to my morning efficiency, simply hung up her hat and tied on her apron.
“Daniel has news for you,” Tess murmured to me when we had a moment alone.
“Is he outside?” I hoped so. A chat with Daniel would be a refreshing reprieve in an otherwise hectic morning.
Tess shook her head. “He says that nice Mr. Thanos is coming to dinner, and he’ll tell you.”
“Good.” I was disappointed I wouldn’t be able to rush up to the street and confer with Daniel, but I’d be glad to see Mr. Thanos. I was also happy he’d not be cheated out of his Easter dinner.
I had little time to ponder about what Mr. Thanos might have to say. After a quick repast, we cooked breakfast for those upstairs before continuing with the main meal of the day.
Breakfast for those above stairs meant plenty of fresh bread, toasted muffins with butter, a tureen of poached eggs, and some of the potato hash I’d made for the staff. A tray with a small amount of all of this went up via Mrs. Seabrook to the lady of the house for breakfast in bed, while the rest of the family would help themselves from the dishes at the sideboard.
Mrs. Seabrook paused to study the tray I’d prepared for Lady Babcock. “It looks edible,” she said. She hadn’t yet sampled any breakfast, declaring it was her duty to serve her ladyship first.
“It’s delicious, Mrs. Seabrook,” Mary assured her. “At least the hash and the bread. Mrs. Holloway is a fine cook.”
Mrs. Seabrook glanced at Jane, who was less likely to gush at everything. “Best breakfast I’ve et in a good bit,” she said grudgingly.
Mrs. Seabrook lifted her brows but said nothing more as she continued out with the tray.
I set Jane to slicing potatoes Mary had diligently scrubbed, while Tess and I washed and tore apart the greens, which we’d keep crisp in water until they were served. I slid the ham from the oven to add the carrots, onions, parsnips, and celery to the juices and set it all back in to continue roasting alongside the shank of mutton. The quail, which would take less time to roast, I dressed and added to the oven. As there were only six of them, these would have to be sliced apart to be shared as small servings.
The fish I’d ordered had been delivered, as fishermen, like domestics, were unable to take many holidays. In addition to the ham, mutton, and quail, we’d have the first courses of oxtail soup and poached sole, then croquettes with a soubise sauce, which was a white sauce seasoned with cayenne and onions, to which I added a bit of bacon for a smoky flavor.
For the desserts, I set Mary to whipping cream—something uncomplicated for her—which I then sweetened with a touch of sugar. I sliced the strawberries myself to set on the cake that had survived the journey from Mount Street.
