night, sister.”
A couple of slurred words that might have been “Sleep well” were Cecilia’s only response.
Beatrice settled herself, restaging the cast for The Lady of the Lake. If she were Ellen Douglas she would cast Jess Pennistan as Malcolm Graeme. She did not want a lover who was her height. And Destry would make a fine enough James Fitz-James.
Chapter Seventeen
“IS THIS NOT amazing?” Beatrice exclaimed as she and Lady Olivia Garrett circled the base of the ancient, giant lime tree.
“Indeed it is. I’ve always wanted to see a banqueting platform.”
It was hard to believe that this cheerful, diminutive woman was Lord Jess’s older sister, though not so hard to believe she was Mr. Garrett’s wife. She and her husband shared a similar optimistic view of life. In the three days since Lady Olivia and Mr. Garrett had arrived, Beatrice and Jess’s sister had spent enough time together to now qualify as friends. So Beatrice had accepted Olivia’s suggestion that they look for the banqueting platform with alacrity.
“The countess said it is no longer stable enough for dinners but that it is safe enough for a few at a time. Do you want to see what the view is like?”
Lady Olivia nodded with enthusiasm, and then began the climb up the man-made staircase that wound around the trunk of a tree that was easily twenty-five feet in girth.
“Where is your sister?” Olivia paused halfway up and turned to face Beatrice. “Would she not find this fascinating?”
“I expect Cecilia will meet us here eventually, but your time in the kitchen inspired her.”
Olivia wrinkled her nose in a way that was half apology, half embarrassment.
“No, no, you have a passion for cooking that we both respect,” Beatrice insisted, and stepped ahead of Olivia to take the lead. “It was Cecilia’s dearest wish to approach the garden staff. She has made the acquaintance of the head gardener and today she convinced him to show her the greenhouses.”
They had reached the platform itself and stopped to take it all in. Fabric had been draped through the branches, giving the platform a fanciful appearance.
“Is that watered silk? How extravagant.” Olivia walked over to finger the cream-colored material. There was no table, but there were a chaise longue and two chairs covered in brown and green.
“This is the perfect spot for a couple to meet for a tête-à-tête.” Olivia spoke half to herself.
Or something more. Beatrice barely kept herself from voicing that aloud and refused to even think that her father and the countess might have come here together.
Feeling very much an intruder in a spot she now associated with intimacy, Beatrice sat on one of the branches that ran along the edge of the space.
“Doing what one loves is so very satisfying,” Olivia assured her, finding her own seat on a nearby branch.
Young ladies were expected to know something of gardening, but Lady Olivia’s love of cooking was more than a little unusual for the daughter of a duke. Beatrice mulled over how to ask about it. “When did you realize that you loved working with food?” That was a safe enough way to bring up the subject.
“When I was about twelve. I wondered why some dishes were so excellent and some were not. Mama would never have let me spend time in the kitchen, but she was not well and Tildy, my governess, was easily distracted.
“So I would sneak down and observe. I dressed like one of the servants and by the time Cook figured out who I was she also realized that I was fascinated by food. We were two artists who shared a passion, and there was no stopping me. Or Cook. After a while we discovered that baking was my favorite and I began to help with that exclusively.”
“What an amazing tale. If I had tried something like that, Mama would have confined me to my room until I was over the urge.” Perhaps she should not have said that. Lady Olivia was so easy to talk to that Beatrice did not censor her words at all around her.
“Yes, it is odd, is it not, that dukes and their families are allowed eccentricities that society would not otherwise tolerate.”
“We are all very lucky in your case.” The delicious memory was enough to make her mouth water. “Breakfast has been amazing the past two days.”
“Cinnamon rolls are popular with everyone,” Olivia said, her conspiratorial whisper pleased. “All I have to do is promise that the servants will have their fair share and Cook