Page 76 of The Chef and the Countess

“Aye, but more people are coming in.”

Liam served up the chowder. “Come right back. There’s a quick meeting.”

Liam wrapped the uncooked fishcakes in parchment paper and placed them in the icebox. Enya, Hannah, Daisy, and Fiona were waiting for him when he returned.

“The cod and shrimp fishcakes are off the menu. Tell any new customers there is baked trout in a—” Liam opened the sauce container, dipped a spoon in, and tasted it. “-—lobster sauce with duchess potatoes and the carrots we already cooked. Charge one shilling for it.”

Fiona whistled. “That’s pricey. Are you sure?”

“The food is above what we usually serve, so I’m charging top prices. Fiona, use the tarts, mince pies, cake, and whatever else you find for the tea trays. I need you to unpack everything and, in between orders, make an inventory of what we have left. Back to work!”

The women scattered, and for the next two hours, Liam and his wait staff were run off their feet. After the trout was gone, he heated a few portions of the roast pork. Finally, as the clock approached half past five, Liam turned off the stoves.

Fiona handed him two foolscap papers. He scanned the list. The amount of food the upper crust provided for a banquet for maybe a dozen or so people was obscene. What would have happened to this food? Perhaps the servants would have some, but the rest? In the bin. Aristocrats did not eat leftovers—God forbid.

His icebox was stuffed to the gills. He could not place another crumb in there if he tried. “Looks like mutton is on the menu tomorrow. Fiona, fetch the cod and shrimp cakes from the icebox. I’ll cook that for the staff meal.”

Timmy and Tommy came through the back door. “Glad you’re here, lads. We’ve had a busy day. Start washing the dishes, yeah? Then bring clean plates and mugs into the staff dining area.”

By quarter to six, the entire staff, day and night, sat around the table. Liam placed the food on platters or in serving bowls. Celia entered the room, and Liam rushed to her side, taking her coat and hanging it on the wall.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Better, thank you.”

It was not exactly a warm reply, but he could not blame Celia, considering his actions—or lack thereof—this morning. Liam pulled out a chair next to him, and she sat.

The platters were passed around, and friendly conversation broke out.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Celia, a telegram arrived for you an hour ago,” Enya said. She reached into her apron pocket and handed it to Celia, who sat beside her.

Celia opened it, gasped, and then exclaimed, “It’s from my aunt! She wants me to join her in Italy!”