British Black Sheep - Lauren Smith Page 0,34
on the fishhook. Then maybe I can find the love of my life at the nearest hospital.” Brie nudged Bridget with an elbow and they both giggled.
“You joke, but it worked out well for me.” Bridget grinned as she watched Simon ahead of them. Bridget had actually sat on the fishhook while fishing with Brendan and had ended up in the ER where a gorgeous doctor, who turned out to be Simon, had carefully removed it and their epic romance began.
When Brie and Bridget entered the huge kitchens in Merryvale Court, Brie gasped. A trio of cooks were hard at work on one long roughhewn wood table. The cooks smiled at them and returned to their preparations. A second long counter opposite them was covered with gingerbread house materials and cookie prep stations.
Alec, Morgan, Brendan, Simon, and Byron were huddled together at the gingerbread supply area, talking excitedly about what they planned to build. Julia watched them with a wide grin on her face. Brie sidled up beside her.
“Looks like that will keep them busy.”
“It certainly will.” Julia laughed. “They have enough gingerbread there to build a village. I thought we could start on the cookies. But first, I want to show you what the cooks are working on, our famous Christmas cake.”
Brie waved to Bridget, who had joined Simon and Brendan for a moment. Then she got her pen and notebook out as Julia took her to the long table where a beautiful round cake sat on a plate.
“We don’t know exactly when we started making these here in England, but they are a lot like the infamous British Christmas pudding we serve. We make them a few weeks in advance, and you need to keep it moist with a regular supply of brandy.”
“How do you that?” The cake was covered in white marzipan frosting and topped with three cedar trees sculpted from icing. One of the cooks had taken a fat red ribbon and wound it around the base, then covered it with a gauzy slender gold ribbon over the top of the red ribbon. Then the cake had been artfully laid on a plate next to a few cinnamon sticks bound with red plaid ribbon. A trio of small pinecones with gold dusted over the top sat on the other side of the cake, resting on the plate. The effect was stunning.
The countess nodded at a second cake not yet covered with icing. “You pierce the bottom with a skewer and carefully pour three or four tablespoons of brandy, and you repeat this every four or five days. It’s a complex recipe, but at least you can see the finished cake.”
She collected a slip of paper from one of the cooks showed it to Brie, who snapped a photo of the ingredients and cooking directions. Brie thanked the cooks and then went to the Christmas cookie station.
“Every year I bake two hundred cookies, which I usually decorate with Byron and Morgan’s help. We deliver the cookies to the Children’s Hospital half an hour from here. Something to give the children some extra cheer.”
“Alec doesn’t help?”
Julia shook her head. “He usually isn’t home for Christmas. I can’t tell you how rare it is that he’s here at all. Simon and Bridget worked a miracle to get him to come.” Her eyes softened as she watched Alec and Morgan start building their houses.
Julia gave her an encouraging nudge toward the workstation were Morgan and Alec were setting up. “I believe I can handle the cookies. Why don’t you go help them?” Brie knew better than to argue with the matriarch of an English household, especially one with this much energy.
Brie went to the gingerbread station and nudged Alec’s arm with hers. “Need help?”
He smirked as he subtly moved between her and Morgan. “No, but you can tell me what you think of my castle.” He pointed at the lopsided tower of gingerbread.
“Yeah, you need help.” Brie grinned cheekily at him. “I sure hope you’re a better investment banker than you are a gingerbread architect.” Brie adjusted the walls of his tower, then carefully applied more icing to the wall before holding it in place to let the icing set. Alec placed his hands over hers, both of them holding the pieces together. His warm hands engulfed her own. The simple connection of their palms felt comforting, though a bit dangerous and forbidden.
Morgan shot them an appraising look. “Cheating, already? You can’t bring in a ringer, Alec.” Morgan complained but