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“He rallies of an evening,” Jane said.
At this, Stone blushed a deep claret and muttered, “I shall fetch a footman to accompany you.”
Perfect.
It would have been even better had the footman been her Mister Foote, but he needed to guard the Baron, so all things considered, it was for the best that another member of staff accompany her to the village.
Chapter Seven
There truly wasn’t a lot from which to choose. The season was messing with everything that required sunlight and bees. She found two apples, and knew that Cook would be able to cut out the worm dents and the small bruise at the base of one of them. They were the same cost as a whole bushel the year before. It wouldn’t be enough even for a small pie, but it would make a tasty addition to the chicken stuffing.
No apricots anywhere. What a pity. Jane adored apricots herself, and knowing that the Baron favoured them would have helped with the illusion that she was procuring them for his tastes.
“I can give Cook a list of fruits that his Lordship requires, and he will get them next time he’s in town, my Lady,” the footman offered.
It would usually be the cook, or even one of the scullery maids, buying extra fruit for the household that they didn’t already grow themselves.
“If you see an apricot, prepare to pay a King’s Ransom for it,” she muttered. “The Baron adores apricots, but there are none to be found.”
They called in at a milliner to gaze at the hats, for this is what Jane had heard newlywed women should do. Her mother’s subscriptions were filled with the latest illustrations of bonnets, caps, and hats. Now that she was married, she should get a lace cap as was her designation in society.
Another store had boiled sweets and preserves.
“Would you have any preserved apricots?”
“Alas, we’ve sold out and there won’t be no more from Bermondsey for another month at least,” the shopkeeper said.
“Oh,” Jane adjusted her shawl, “It’s just that the Baron does so love apricots, and there are none to be had this year.”
“Merciful Heavens, you’re the new Baroness,” the shop lady bobbed a quick curtsey. “I should have recognised your footman out there. I’m so terribly sorry we have none. Everybody knows the Baron loves his apricots. Did he have a bad harvest this year as well?”
How wonderful to make this connection. No doubt this shopkeeper would tell all and sundry that the Baron was hungering for his favourite fruits. “The gardeners tell me there were few flowers this year, and none of them took.”
“I shall make a note in the order book, my Lady, and send a messenger as soon as we have supplies.”
“Thank you, I will leave a payment here for your troubles.”
The shop woman’s smile may have been controlled, but her eyes glistened, and her hands quickly took the coins Jane set down.
“Is there anything else I can get you, my Lady?”
“That will be all for now. I must return to the Baron, but I shall relay your best wishes and continued efforts to secure more apricots.”
The shop woman preened with satisfaction.
“Thank you, my Lady.”
******
Upon returning home, Jane found the estate in absolute uproar.
Staff - both hers and the Baron’s - were darting to and fro, carrying boxes and travelling trunks.
“I shall not be spoken to in that way!”
A woman screamed from the floor above.
“Stone, whatever is the cause of this cacophony?”
