I thanked her and Miss Townsend again, climbed into the hackney, and left to ride across London to Cheapside.
This, I thought as I sat in Joanna’s parlor sipping tea with Grace while Joanna’s four children read books or played games, is much better than walking through a duke’s garden ignoring the rude stares of haughty people. They might have finery and riches, but I had warmth and friendship, and a daughter I loved with all my heart.
Grace and I went for our walk, not far today. We wandered about St. Paul’s Churchyard, admiring the huge dome that dominated our skyline. I told Grace about the duke’s home in Surrey, his lovely gardens, and interesting bits and bobs inside the house. I’d been honest with her and Joanna, telling them I’d be late because I was helping Mr. McAdam.
“Perhaps you could be a cook in a place like that,” Grace said when I’d finished describing the huge staircase and the displays of antiquities beneath it. “Wouldn’t that be grand?”
“It is not likely to happen. I’d have to live outside London, and then I couldn’t visit you so often.”
Grace, nearly twelve now, gazed at me with wisdom in her brown eyes. “I’m happy living with Mrs. Millburn, you know. And Jane.” She named Mrs. Millburn’s oldest daughter with whom she was now as close as a sister. “Even Matthew, though he likes to tease something awful.” Matthew was the Millburns’ youngest son. “You do not have to stay in Town for me, Mum. If there’s a splendid house that would pay you lots and lots, you should go.”
Her words held sincerity. Warmth washed through me, not only from pride at how selfless she was but partly from a twinge of sadness. Grace was growing up swiftly, becoming less in need of my presence.
“It is a kind thought, but neither here nor there at this point,” I said. “No splendid house is offering me employ, and I do well in Mount Street. I like Lady Cynthia, and I enjoy the cooking.”
“Lady Cynthia is rather beautiful,” Grace said. “Will she marry Mr. Thanos soon?”
I let out a breath, recalling how Mr. Thanos had gazed at Cynthia after his lecture at the Crystal Palace. “He is shy. But I hope he’ll come around one day.”
“He will if you tell him to, Mum.” Grace nodded with confidence. “I like Lady Bobby too. She makes me laugh. Please tell her thank you for the penny.” She patted her pocket where the penny reposed.
“I will.” I barely heard Grace’s last words, because an idea was taking shape in my head about Cynthia and Mr. Thanos. Mr. Thanos might not fall on his knees and propose to Cynthia because of it, but my idea would throw them together, which might lead to a more permanent arrangement.
I walked Grace back home, parted from her with my usual reluctance, and returned to Mount Street on foot, wanting the exercise and the time to work out how I’d persuade Mr. Thanos to accept my idea.
* * *
* * *
Tess wanted to demand every detail of my day out to a duke’s house, I could see, but I’d scarcely relate anything to her while the kitchen was full. Lord and Lady Clifford dined in tonight—they’d returned from Surrey—and footmen, Mr. Davis, Mrs. Redfern, and maids hurried to and fro on various duties as Tess and I prepared supper.
I made my Antiguan custards again, as Mr. Davis told me Lord Clifford had requested them. Tess had done so well preparing most of the meal that I had plenty of time to cook the custard and chill it while she roasted a hen, made gravy, and finished up the salads.
“A fine night’s work,” she said cheerfully, once everything had gone to the dining room.
Tess was growing in talent, and I would lose her one day when she sought employment as a cook in her own right. That was the way of the world, but I’d become very fond of Tess and did not like to think of her leaving.
I and the staff ate in the servants’ hall after service. As I had at Joanna’s home, I reflected that the banter of the maids and footmen, including the complaints, made for a cozy time of it. I’d had my taste of being a toff, and I decided I preferred to be me, hard work and all.
Tess had labored much today, so I sent her to bed early and finished cleaning the kitchen myself. The others drifted away to other tasks or bed, and as usual, I remained alone as things quieted down. I treasured this time to myself, to sharpen my knives, to reflect on what I’d done during the day, to make notes on recipes, and to hope Daniel would drop by.
Lord Clifford turned up instead.
“Good evening, your lordship.” I rose hastily, setting down the fillet knife I’d taken up to sharpen. I curtsied, my heart banging. “I hope you enjoyed the puddings a second time.”
“They were superb, my dear.” Lord Clifford strolled toward the table, hands behind his back. “I must say, you create wonderful dishes in here.” He glanced at the dresser stacked with crockery, the copper pots hanging above the stove, and my clean work table strewn with knives and the sharpening stone. “The kitchen at our country house is much, much larger.”
Not unexpected, as only so much could fit beneath a London town house. “Yes, your lordship.”
“I imagine the Duke of Daventry’s kitchen is even larger.” Lord Clifford sent me a pointed look, and then I knew. “Were you there trying to convince him to hire you? Or for some other ruse?”
I stood very still, though I felt my body rocking slightly. What to tell him? I could not betray Daniel or endanger him, and I was uncertain whether Lord Clifford was in league with the duke.
“I know it was you.” Lord Clifford halted a few feet from me, his gaze straying to the knives. “You wore a lovely purple ensemble—it quite suited you. I’m good with faces, you see, and the way people walk and move. I never forget. I saw you in the garden with that twit, Lancaster. Were you trying to fleece him? Don’t blame you if you were. If ever a fatuous idiot needed to be fleeced, it is the Honorable Mr. Lancaster.”
I relaxed a fraction. Lord Clifford hadn’t realized Daniel was anything but the empty-headed fop he pretended to be.
“I am a cook, your lordship,” I began.
Lord Clifford snorted. “You are far more than that, my dear. You are a very clever young woman. No one but me noticed you—why should they? But I am quite good at spotting a fraud.”
I wasn’t certain how to respond. Should I deny I was there, and insist he was mistaken? Or admit it and beg him to say nothing? Either way, I was at a firm disadvantage.
Lord Clifford had descended here to blackmail me, I surmised. What would he want? Money? Or something more sordid? I needed to make him understand right away that I would not put up with that sort of nonsense.
I wet my lips. “Your lordship . . .”
Lord Clifford chuckled. “My dear, do not look so terrified. Your secret is safe with me.” He tapped the side of his nose. “As I say, young Lancaster deserves to be swindled. All I ask is that you tell me exactly how you do it. I love a good story.”