Paragon Walk - Anne Perry [81]
“You can’t just walk in and ask to speak to his cook! What on earth excuse have you? You’ll make him suspicious, or else he will just think you ill-mannered.”
“He won’t be in!” Emily said impatiently. “I told you, I have chosen my times with great care. She cannot cook pastry to save herself; you could shoe horses with it. That’s why Hallam always eats pastry when he is out. But she is a genius with sauces. I shall beg her for a recipe to impress Aunt Vespasia. That will flatter her, and then I can pass on to general conversation. I am convinced Hallam knows about what is going on. He has behaved like a man haunted for the last month or more. I think, in his own way, he is as frightened as Phoebe!”
They were almost to the door. She stopped to let her shawl fall a little more gracefully, adjusted her hat, and then pulled the bell.
The footman opened the door immediately; his face fell with surprise when he saw two unaccompanied women.
“Lady—Lady Ashworth! I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Cayley is not at home.” He ignored Charlotte. He was not sure who she was and had more than enough to deal with without her.
Emily smiled disarmingly.
“How unfortunate. I was wondering if he might be kind enough to permit me to speak with your cook. Mrs. Heath, isn’t it?”
“Mrs. Heath? Yes, m’lady—”
Emily favored him with a dazzling look.
“Her sauces are quite famous, and, as I have my husband’s aunt, Lady Cumming-Gould, staying for the Season, I wanted to impress her with something special now and then. My cook is excellent, but—I know it is an impertinence, but I wondered if Mrs. Heath would be generous enough to share a recipe? Of course, it would not be the same, not made by her, but it would still be remarkable!” She smiled hopefully.
He thawed. This was his realm and understandable.
“If you care to wait in the withdrawing room, m’lady, I’ll ask Mrs. Heath to come up and see you.”
“Thank you, I’m obliged.” Emily swept in, and Charlotte followed behind her.
“You see!” Emily said triumphantly when they were seated and the footman had disappeared. “All it needs is a little forethought.”
When Mrs. Heath arrived, it was immediately apparent that she had decided to revel in her moment of glory. Negotiations were going to be protracted, and she would require every possible compliment before parting with the secret of her creations. It was equally obvious that she would share them; the fame already glittered in her eyes.
They were about at the point of accomplishment, when a small, very smutty maid came clattering down the stairs and burst into the withdrawing room, mobcap askew and hands black.
Mrs. Heath was outraged. She drew breath to deliver a blast of rebuke, but the girl spoke before her.
“Mrs. Heath, please, mum! The chimney’s on fire in the green room, mum. I lit the fire to get rid of that smell like you told me to, and now it’s all smoke everywhere, and I can’t put it out!”
Mrs. Heath and Emily looked at each other in consternation.
“It’s probably a birdnest in the chimney,” Charlotte said practically. Since her marriage, she had had to learn about such things. She had called the sweep more than once for her own house. “Don’t open the windows, or you’ll make the draught worse, and it’ll really burn. Get a long handled broom, and we’ll see if we can dislodge it.”
The maid stood, unsure whether to obey a strange woman or not.
“Well, go on, girl!” Mrs. Heath decided she would have given the same advice, if good manners had not prevented her from speaking first. “I don’t know why you had to ask me!”
Emily seized the chance to reinforce her advantage, rather than risk being cut short before her real purpose by an inopportune domestic emergency.
“It may be quite far up. Perhaps we had better see if we can help. If it is not done properly there may be a real fire.” And without waiting for agreement, she marched out of the door and followed the scuttering maid up the stairs. Charlotte went as well, curious to see more of the house, and to hear anything that might be said,