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Chapter Sixteen
The tension had beenbuilding at Highwood since before dawn and the routine of preparation and the resulting aggravations and alarms were calmed by Raleigh and Mrs.Callis’ experience.Servants hurried between rooms, fulfilling every request and working as if the ball were a reflection of their personal skill.Constant noise hummed through the rooms and hallways: scraping chairs, whispered instructions, pots clanging, footsteps up and down the staircase, doors opening and closing, a screech here and there that gave Rose heart palpitations for fear of what it might mean.
And the smells!Two whole hogs and six sides of beef, all aged for two weeks, were outside slowly roasting on newly made spits.The fat sizzled on the embers causing savory, mouth-watering aromas to fill the air and waft into the house.
The chicken, turkey and quail were rotating on the kitchen rotisserie.Most of the breads and pastries were finished yesterday and were kept on large, covered trays in the pantry.Biscuits, confections, macaroons, cheeses, puddings, pickled vegetables, sliced fruits, rose-shaped radishes and fish-shaped cucumbers, gravies, cured hams, salted herring, oysters, truffles and caviar were plated or bowled.The tables in the buffet room were filling.
The cranachan, shortbread and tablet were ready as well, wrapped in sweet lace and ribbon packets, that were set on tables throughout the house—anywhere a guest might sit or converse.
Rose peered at the list of foods she’d had prepared.When the king served dinner at the Royal Pavilion a few years ago for the Grand Duke of Russia, the menu had an astounding array of foods.Rose and Edmond had been invited to the event at Brighton and she had come away with an actual menu.Most of Rose’s ideas for the gala were slight alterations from the Brighton menu.It was a handy guide when one was trying to dazzle.For all that, she was very happy they were doing a buffet rather than a sit-down dinner.
Rose had to be everywhere at once and fortunately Raleigh was an excellent proxy, but she was ready to duck into the whisky room and have a nip.
Matthew had left the house.She’d be annoyed by it if she had a moment to breathe.When he returned a few hours later, he carried a box which he took to the kitchen.“Matthew, what is that?We have all the deliveries.Please don’t tell me this is some plan you’ve concocted that you haven’t told me about.Not now.”She grabbed her skirts, trying to keep up with him.
“Mrs.Hardy, I seek only to make our grand gala even grander.Behold.”He plopped the box on a block table and removed the bindings.“Pineapples.Fresh from the dock.”
He stood back and she looked inside, gasping.“Pineapples!”
“Eight of them.“
Rose smiled.“Wonderful!I know just where to place them.”She reached into the box and pricked her finger, popping the digit into her mouth.
“Oh, no, dear wife.We are going to eat these.I’m told they are a quite the delicacy.”
“We have no recipes for pineapples.They are meant to be displayed,” Rose said.
One of the main cooks had worked her way toward them and the enticing box.“Francois!Come and see.Oh,bon!Mrs.Hardy, we could do so much with them.”
“Qu'est-ce que c est?”Francois asked, plucking up one of the large fruits, and hefted it, feeling its weight.“Perfection.”
“See?Everyone is impressed,” Matthew said.“My work for the day is done.”
“This is barely a trifle compared to what else needs to happen today,” Rose said to him.She took his arm and pointed him toward the door.He kissed her temple before leaving the kitchen.“Francois.Carlotta.What can we do with eight pineapples?”she asked.
“Eat them,” Matthew said as he walked down the hallway, his words echoing.He turned to look at her and winked.
