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“Absolutely not!” the cook roared. “I have forty heads to feed here. Do you think I am playing around? Because I am not playing around. And these are not the drunken lords who do not pay attention to what they put in their mouths in the gaming hell. No! These are the ravenous bandits come home after a long day of looting. If I don’t have enough food made, they are going to eat me!”
There was an awkward pause.
“I highly doubt it,” Verity said quietly by Eloise’s side with a disgusted grimace toward the cook.
Eloise chuckled but quickly pursed her lips at the cook’s stern face. “I do not mean to be a nuisance. I just want to be of help.”
“If you want to help, skitter out of my kitchen.”
“As you wish.” Eloise raised her hands in self-defense.
If the cook didn’t need her help, she’d be useful elsewhere. She turned sharply and squeaked as she ran into the dairymaid.
Laura carried a bowl with whipped eggs in one hand and a bowl of butter in another. Both bowls flew out of her hands on impact, sending the butter and eggs all over the kitchen, splattering every surface possible, including the clothing.
Eloise froze, and Laura’s mouth fell open. The poor girl looked like she was about to cry.
“We’re out of here,” Verity said as she took Eloise by her hand.
“Stop!” the cook yelled from behind. They both turned to look at the cook. She stood there, a dough roller in one hand, her other hand fisted by her side. Her face was red, her nostrils flaring. “You said you’re good at baking,” she finally said slowly. “How are you at cleaning?”
And this is how Eloise and Verity, together with Chastity and Prudence, ended up cleaning the kitchen for the majority of the afternoon.
“This is not how I imagined spending my day off,” Prudence said, wiping off the butter from the cupboard.
Eloise grimaced. “I am sorry I ruined your day. What would you rather be doing right now?”
“Anything but this?” Chastity smirked.
Prudence just shrugged. “Perhaps go to the fair or flirt with the pastor from the nearby parish.”
“Oh, Pastor James? He is so handsome,” Verity said dreamily.
“Truly?” Eloise tilted her head in interest.
“Yes, and he is always lecturing Prudence and always trying to lure her into a confession. But we know that a confession is the last thing he wants.”
The women chuckled.
“Truly? You think he is interested in Prudence?”
“Oh, of course, he is interested.” Prudence waved a hand. “But he cannot sacrifice his work for a night at the hell.”
“But if he is interested, perhaps you can leave this all behind. Maybe he will marry you,” Eloise said earnestly.
The women roared with laughter. “Nobody is marrying us. Especially not a pastor,” Prudence said when the racket of laughter died down.
Eloise dipped her head and concentrated on washing off the butter from the floor. Was it true? Were these women stuck here?
“Not even the men out there,” Chastity said, tilting her head toward the closed kitchen door.
“Not even the men in here,” Prudence whispered with a tilt toward Sal and Garric, who stood a few feet away. “Oh, sure, they like the business, but when it comes to marrying, they all look to the innocent. Like you.”
Eloise grimaced uncomfortably. She did not want to think the men here would look at her for anything, be that marriage or what these women calledthe business.
“Or, Ava,” Chastity said, jealousy in her voice.
“That’s enough, step aside!” The cook roared as she carried mugs of ale toward the men. “I have enough people in the kitchen. Off you go!”
