Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) (23 page)

“Oh dear!” Charles closed his eyes in relief and put his hands to his face. “I’m sorry, Carlos, you know what I’m like under pressure.”

Carlos sighed. Melissa was quite glad that his sharp knife was wedged in the wood. He looked very upset. Unexpectedly he pulled a chair out for himself and sat down. Charles did the same.

“Nobody comes round for dinner so we’ve never been found out.” Carlos poured himself a cup of hot water and sipped at it slowly. After a second, Charles did the same.

“Biscuits are our specialty,” Charles chimed in.

Carlos nodded. “That’s really what we were trained in. Pastry chefs at the Highmount School in Oxfordshire.”

“Highmount School? Is that a renowned cookery place?” Melissa was confused.

Charles shook his head. Despite the warning glance from Carlos he spoke anyway. “It’s a school for education of young gentlemen. We were employed from the local orphanage in the kitchens.”

“But how did you end up here?”

“The earl,” Carlos said simply. “He went to Highmount.”

“But that doesn’t mean that he would end up employing you as his chefs.” Melissa stopped. “Unless he really liked biscuits!”

The small joke broke the tension that was obvious on the chefs’ faces.

“The earl was rather a serious young man,” Carlos said delicately. “He spent his time with his nose in a book.”

“But he always ate our biscuits,” Charles said proudly, “even when we put salt instead of sugar in them, or burned them. And he never failed to compliment us.”

“Go on.”

“One day a group of older Highmount boys put ink in his coffee, knowing that he wouldn’t notice.”

Melissa gasped. Carlos nodded. “Carter noticed.”

“Carter?”

“Yes he was there at Highmount with us. He was one of the serving boys in the Buttery. He came from our orphanage too.” Charles blinked.

“Anyway, Carter told Charles, and Charles told me,” Carlos said.

“And Carlos told the earl,” Charles said triumphantly. Carlos gave him a repressive look.

“Yes, a fact which did not go unnoticed by the head cook who sent all of us back to the orphanage, with no pay, and no more job prospects.”

“I don’t understand why they turned you out?” Melissa picked at a biscuit. It was hard not to when they were in front her.

“Even though we prevented some harm, it is just not done to interfere in your betters’ businesses,” Carlos said bitterly. “We were told that we should have just let the earl sort it out.”

“And boy did he sort it out,” exclaimed Charles. “He waited a few weeks and then on the eve of a cross country run, filled a ditch of water with red dye. He managed to divert just the boys who had put ink in his tea into the ditch where the dye permanently stained their clothes and skin for a week. They were the laughing stock of the school. No one touched the earl from then on.”

“So the moral of the story is tangle with Earl Harding at your peril?” Melissa said quietly.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Carlos said. “We spent a year at the orphanage without employment and were about to be turned out when a note came from Dowager Lady Harding.”

“The earl’s mother?”

“Yes. She asked for us all by name, and gave us roles in her household. The position of chef was already taken, so we slotted in as pastry chefs again, and Carter became a footman.”

Charles reached for a biscuit himself and bit squarely into it. He munched quickly and swallowed. “Then the earl reached his majority and started going out on the town a bit.”

“A bit?” Carlos laughed, “A lot! He had different women falling at his feet. It was as if he had forgotten his bookish ways.”

“That was after Elsa,” Charles said gravely. “She was the reason he moved away from Lady Harding.”

“Elsa?”

“The woman who broke his heart,” Charles said through a mouthful of crumbs. “He was seventeen and she was older. But she dallied with him. And then she took up with a rich American, married him and disappeared to America.”

“Oh.”

Melissa could see Carlos shaking his head wildly at Charles as he spoke about Elsa. But Charles effected not to notice. “And then he tired of all the women and went back to his books.”

“But what about all the ladies who keep dropping at his feet?”

“Oh, he finds them quite boring. If I had a penny for every time that he came back complaining about their scheming ways I would be a rich…” Charles stopped with a thud as Carlos pounded him on the back.

“So sorry!” Carlos said innocently as Charles stared at him with hurt eyes. “I thought you had choked on something.”

“Anyway,” Charles said. “We were quite glad when you turned up. We haven’t seen the earl so alive since the unfortunate debacle with Lady Dalston. He hasn’t said anything about scheming once!”

Carlos threw his hands up in the air and sighed with gusto. “There you have it, Miss Sumner. A little of our history.”

“So,” Melissa said, firmly boxing up the pieces she had heard about Hades and storing them for later. “You specialize in biscuits?”

Carlos and Charles nodded proudly.

“And what does the earl say when dinner is a little, err, how shall I put this delicately, late, uncooked, covered in biscuits and so on?”

“Nothing,” Carlos said. “We’ve been waiting for him to bring in a real chef for years, but he doesn’t say a word. He either eats out, or eats the food.”

Melissa threw her hands in the air, took off her glasses and laid them on the table. Thoughtfully she rubbed the bridge of her nose where the spectacles pinched slightly and put the glasses back on to see Charles and Carlos staring at her open-mouthed.

“What is it?” she asked.

Carlos shut his mouth quickly. “Nothing,” Charles said. “I just know now why the earl picked you.”

“Picked me? What do you mean?”

But Charles had clammed up.

Melissa shook her head and ordered her thoughts. “Carlos, Charles, would you mind awfully if I brought in a lady who might be able to teach you some simple dishes that I could eat whilst the earl is away?” She had just the person in mind.

“Not at all,” Carlos said smoothly. “We would be delighted.”

Leaving the kitchen, Melissa headed straight for the study and pulled out Hades’ writing paper and quill. Quickly she scratched out a note for Mrs. Hobbs, sealed it with the earl’s wax and sent it out via Carter.

Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs arrived that afternoon straight into the kitchen through the servant’s entrance.

“Oooh, we came as quickly as we could, Miss Sumner,” Mrs. Hobbs cried. “My sister was getting on my nerves something chronic.”

“Your nerves, Mrs. Hobbs?” Mr. Hobbs shouted. “She’s your sister. You wouldn’t believe the things she kept saying to me.”

Melissa looked up from the whirlwind of activity to see Carter staring in horror at the new arrivals, and Carlos and Charles listening interestedly to the gossip. She coughed briefly into her hand which silenced the couple.

“Mr. Hobbs, Mrs. Hobbs, I would like you to meet Carlos and Charles, the chefs here, and Carter the butler.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Mrs. Hobbs said graciously, her keen eyes taking in the smart uniforms. Mr. Hobbs nodded and received three nods in return.

“Mrs. Hobbs, given your background as a cook, I was wondering if you could share some of your recipes with Carlos and Charles. Unfortunately the last dinner chef…” She searched for the words as Carlos and Charles stiffened. “…left before I arrived.” She giggled inwardly as the chefs slumped in relief.

“Tell me Mrs. Hobbs, where did you used to cook?” Charles asked politely.

“Ooh, at a little establishment in Bayswater.”

Carlos nodded interestedly. “Tell me, was it fine dining?”

Mrs. Hobbs looked at Carlos as if he had fallen out of a tree. “The Grenadier? Everyone said the food was good, even the Fancy that used to stop there, but I don’t think it was fine dining. In fact I’m not sure what fine dining is?” she said doubtfully.

“Mrs. Hobbs, I think you are right up our street,” Charles said proudly, putting an arm around the woman. “Would you like a biscuit?”

“I think that is our cue to leave,” Melissa whispered to Carter and Mr. Hobbs as the cooks started discussing recipes animatedly.

“I don’t understand,” Mr. Hobbs said. “How did they know she liked biscuits?”

Melissa smiled. It was better than she hoped. “Mr. Hobbs, I was wondering if you would like to look at some of the accommodation that Carter has sorted out for you. It is above the stable at the back of the house, but I understand it to be very fine.”

Mr. Hobbs nodded and allowed himself to be led away.

That night for dinner, Melissa dressed carefully and walked downstairs. She peeked into the dining room, to see a lone plate and glass standing at the table. Laughter and light spilled from the small steps to the downstairs kitchen.

Picking up the plate and glass, she crept down the stairs and pushed her head around the kitchen door. Carter, Carlos, Charles, Mr. Hobbs and Mrs. Hobbs and two footmen all sat around the kitchen table, eating a large beef stew with roast potatoes and honey glazed carrots.

“Is there room for one more?” she asked quietly.

Carter jumped up from the table, pulling his napkin from his lap and wiping his mouth hurriedly. “Miss Sumner!” he cried. “We should be serving you upstairs, I’m so sorry, Michael, John, on your feet!”

Melissa put her hands out as the footmen half rose. “Please don’t get up. I don’t want to sit up there by myself. And anyway I always used to eat with Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs. I’d rather stay here with you, if I may?”

Nodding, Charles and Carlos shifted so that Carter could bring an extra chair in. He insisted on serving her anyway, bringing her some wine, and spooning some of the stew out of the pot.

Melissa took a bite, some more, and then ate hungrily. It was the first dinner she had had that hadn’t had a sweet crunch to it in Hades’ household.

She looked up to see three faces gazing at her anxiously. She swallowed her mouthful. “It’s good,” she said appreciatively. “The beef is tender, the potatoes crackle, and the honey roast parsnips complement the dish perfectly.”

“I did the potatoes and the parsnips,” Charles said proudly.

“And I did the stew,” Carlos said, wiping his mouth. “We couldn’t have done either without Mrs. Hobbs instruction.”

Mrs. Hobbs nodded, her eyes crinkling. “Winter Warmer is what we called it. Always a winner. It’s the fennel in the stew and the tomatoes.”

“Not to forget those little onions,” Charles said, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

“We haven’t ever eaten like this,” one of the footmen said.

His colleague nodded. “This is food for kings!”

Melissa sighed happily.

At that moment a clattering on the stairs indicated the arrival of the last footman on duty. “Carter, sir, Carter, Lady Harding has arrived at the front door.”

Wiping his face again, Carter stood from where he had just sat down from serving Melissa. With a quick check to his uniform, he leapt up the steps and into the front hall. Melissa could hear the conversation from the deadly silent kitchen.

“Where is she?” A loud voice boomed around the hall. “She has been seen gallivanting around the park with Hades’ silly little dog and coming in and out without so much as a by your leave.”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Harding, to whom are you referring?” asked Carter.

Melissa rolled her eyes. She could just imagine poor Carter’s attempt at subterfuge, his expressive face giving away all the secrets. Standing, she nodded to her dining companions. “Please lay up two places in the dining room. This could be a long visit.”

She knew exactly to whom Lady Harding was referring. She had only walked out with Arturo once or twice to escape the confines of the house. But the house’s position in Mayfair, along with the very distinctive dog would have set tongues wagging.

“She can’t be a servant!” Lady Harding’s voice continued to boom. “My sources said that she was dressed as Quality! Carter, you cannot keep anything from me. Five years in my house you were. I know every twitch of your eyebrow.”

Charles sniggered at the kitchen table. Melissa could see that the others were barely containing their mirth too. Before they all exploded, she swept up the stairs and into the hall.

“Lady Harding,” she said, sweeping a low curtsey. “I am sorry that I kept you waiting, I was just giving the cooks some instructions for dinner. I do hope you will join me?”

Dowager Lady Harding stood as straight as a rod in the hall. She leaned lightly on a cane, her hair was swept up around her ears, and an enormous pearl choker peeped out above her fur stole. “And you are?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Melissa Sumner,” Melissa said crisply. She didn’t offer anything else. “Would you care for some dinner?” she asked again.

“Are Carlos and Charles still here?” Lady Harding asked frowning. “I don’t want biscuits. I know what they are like.”

“Carlos and Charles are still here, my lady, but,” Melissa said hurriedly, seeing the older lady’s frown, “I think you will find that there are no biscuits on the menu.”

“Thank goodness for that. Yes. I came here as soon as I heard the news. Old Lavinia Portthwottle had it from Izzy Mayhew who saw you coming out of the house. She lives opposite, you know.”

Melissa smiled. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Hades. Strategy could not beat the older women’s capacity for observation and gossip.

“And Izzy says that Hades has been acting rather strangely recently. Sometimes Hades has left the house laughing!”

That wiped the smile off Melissa’s face. He hadn’t laughed when he was with her. So had he been laughing at her? She tilted her lips back up at the edges in a forced smile. “Do follow me to the dining room.”

“I do know where the dining room is, gel,” Lady Harding said irritably. “I am his mother, you know. And I still haven’t found out what Hades is to you.”

Melissa walked slowly into the dining room and waited silently as Carter sat the older woman at the table. She took a seat opposite.

“I don’t think you are a courtesan,” Dowager Lady Harding said abruptly, pulling a napkin onto her lap. “They wouldn’t be seen dead in the paramour’s mother’s clothes which are fifty years out of date.”