something in the cauldron hanging above it to boil. A hare, dead and skinned, hung from the rafters, and al manner of tongs and knives and industrial-sized soup ladles hung from hooks on the wal s. Black clothing irons stood upon a shelf, and everything reeked of onion.
Cook and the kitchen maids curtsied upon Chloe’s entrance, and the formality flustered her. She rol ed up the decorative, gauzy yel ow sleeves of her overdress. “Do you have an apron? I’m here to bake for the tea party.”
Cook shot Chloe a look with her icy blue eyes. “You can’t possibly bake. You belong upstairs!”
Chloe snagged an apron from one of the wooden hooks near the copper pots and tied it around herself. “If you just tel me where the strawberry-tart recipe is, I’l begin with that. I just made my own ink, I’m sure I can get a couple of the items from the tea menu taken care of over the next two days.”
Cook looked at the kitchen maids, who giggled. “If the lady insists. Here’s the recipe.” Cook opened a reproduction cookbook, cal ed
To make a tarte of strawberries.
Take and strayne theim with the yolkes of foure egges & a little white brede grated/then ceason it vp with suger & swete butter and so bake it.
Short paest for Tarte.
Take fyne floure and a curscy of fayre water and dysche of swete butter and lyttel saffron, and the yolkes of two egges and make it thynne and as tender as ye may.
“Wel ?” Cook asked. “Get to it. The scul ery maid has gone to the trouble of picking the strawberries. I’m about to fil the mincemeat pies and the kitchen maids are in the midst of making the trifle you requested. I’m afraid you’re on your own for a bit.”
Luckily, Chloe had made enough fruit tarts in her time that a recipe wasn’t even necessary, although she had never used saffron, and washing the strawberries in a dry sink, without running water, wasn’t very effective, and then forcing them through the sieve took infinitely longer than if she’d been able to use her food processor.
Considering that she rarely baked in her own modern kitchen, her sudden enthusiasm for desserts and spearheading tea parties could only be attributed to her overwhelming desire to impress Sebastian. What other explanation could there be for turning into a Regency domestic diva?
When it came time to put the tart crust in the oven, Chloe was stumped. The open range didn’t have knobs, a touch pad, or a temperature gauge.
In fact, the kitchen had no refrigerator, no running water, and no disinfectant soap either. Not to mention a microwave or coffeemaker.
Who knew that two centuries would make such a difference in the kitchen?
She stood in front of the open range a good five minutes until Cook stepped over, took the pie tin with the crust, and shoved it in with a wooden oven handle.
“Keep an eye on it now.” Cook shook a finger at Chloe.
After the crust browned, Chloe fil ed the tart and put it in the range. “What next?”
“You’ve done wel ,” Cook said. “Can you help me gild these confections?”
“Absolutely.” Chloe felt as if she had established some sort of relationship with Cook.
Cook brought a plate of handmade chocolates from the scul ery and set them on the pine table along with a tin of edible gold dust.
“You simply dab them like this.” Cook demonstrated.
She handed Chloe what at first seemed to be a cotton bal , but it didn’t take long for Chloe to drop the thing on the table. The room began to spin around her.
“What—what is this, Cook? It’s not a cotton bal , is it?”
The kitchen maids, who were beating eggs in a bowl, giggled again.
The scul ery maid plucked feathers from a partridge, but didn’t even look up from her work.
Cook left off from grating suet and came over to Chloe. “That, my dear, is a rabbit’s tail, and it makes a wonderful brush, doesn’t it?”
Chloe steadied herself against the table. She realized she hadn’t eaten the pigeon pies and cold lamb for lunch, and she felt queasy. “I’d better check the oven—I mean range.”
Thank goodness her strawberry tart needed to be taken out. She covered the tart with a cloth to keep the flies off. By the time she returned to the table, Cook had gilded al the chocolates for her with said rabbit tail.
“You’ve done a wonderful job helping us here.” Cook turned to the kitchen maids. “Hasn’t she, girls?” Cook asked.
The maids nodded in agreement.
“Now, I’m sure you have things that need tending to upstairs, like shaking your ink that’s set in the chimney? And we’d best get started on dinner.
There wil be plenty more to do tomorrow.” Cook patted Chloe on the back as Chloe hung up her apron. “As for tonight, I sure hope you’re hungry.
We’re making stewed hare and partridges for dinner!”
She’d gained ten more Accomplishment Points for riding, but the others had gained fifteen for more advanced riding and decoupaging a box while she was in the kitchen.
