AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sometimes, she took tea with Mrs. Fairfield of an evening.
Always, she researched the clues from her past. Using a copy ofJohnstone’s London Commercial Guidethat she’d found in the library, she had located Mr. Shadwell. His offices were listed in Cheapside.
Tomorrow was her first off day. She’d already planned her schedule. First to Mr. Shadwell’s office, and then to Lumley’s Toy Shop, since Banksford had said P.L. Rabbit came from there.
It was a vague hope, at best, that a toy shop could trace P.L.’s purchaser, but she must try every avenue.
She would leave no stone unturned.
This was the reason she was in London. To find the truth about her birth.
Not dally with dukes.
“What is that smell?” asked Adele, lifting her head from the book.
There was a warm, homey scent wafting through the open windows from the kitchen ovens.
“It smells like...” Michel sniffed the air.
“France!” they cried in unison.
“Someone is making French bread,” Adele said. “I’m sure of it.”
“Amina,” cried Michel. “She received our letter and she’s come to live with us!” He jumped up from the window seat. “May we go to the kitchens, Miss Perkins? May we?”
“I’m sorry, Michel, but the post to and from France will take a fortnight.”
His face fell. “But I still smell French bread.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any keeping you here with the promise of French bread in the air,” said Mari. “Walk with decorum, if you please, children,” she called as they ran out of the room. “We are not lions scenting gazelles.”
In the kitchens, an unfamiliar woman with dark hair and winged black eyebrows was up to her elbows in flour, kneading bread in a large bowl.
Michel walked straight to the hearth and stared inside the oven.“Ç’est le vrais!”
“Oui, mes petites,”said the woman, smiling at the children. “Your bread.”
“Good afternoon,” said Mari. “I’m Miss Perkins, and these are the duke’s children, Adele and Michel. Fall in, look lively.”
The twins fell in line beside her.
“My, such beautiful children! As you can see, I’m covered in flour at the moment, but my name is Miss Martin and I’ve been hired to make you the bread.”
She had a pronounced French accent that made herr’sguttural and herthe’ssounded likez’s. Had Banksford hired her because Mari had told him the children missed the bread in France?
Had he actually beenlisteningto her?
“Merci, Miss Martin!” The children launched into a rapid stream of French that quickly left Mari behind.
Miss Martin chuckled. “My goodness,” she said in English. “I didn’t know I would be so very popular.”
“The twins have been pining for the taste of their homeland.”
“Do you know how to make meringue?” asked Adele.
“Andtarte aux pommes?” said Michel.
“Oui, bien sûr. I am the best French pastry chef in London.”
