"Mrs. Notley!" Mrs. Caddy's shrill voice sounded from the still room, making Cora want to ignore it and run back upstairs where she had been inspecting the bedchambers for the three guests due to arrive any moment.
She drew in a breath and followed Mrs. Caddy's voice, hoping the woman's mood would be cheerier than it sounded, even though she knew better. The set down Watts had given the cook had quieted the issue of the salty preserves, but it did nothing to better the relations between her and Mrs. Caddy. Cora continued to feel like the grime under the woman's nails.
Her second week had gone little better than the first, and only because Cora had learned to rely more on the talents of Alice. The girl was a wonder. The new batches of blackberry preserves had been greatly improved and she was teaching Cora the most efficient methods of drying and bottling herbs, along with how to make a proper dough for pastries.
Outside the still room, however, Cora had plated the Chateaubriand Steak improperly, she'd spilled vinegar down the front of her only clean dress, and she had been late to market, resulting in less-than-fresh lemons for the lemon cream dessert. Mrs. Caddy had not been at all happy about that and had wasted no time voicing her disapproval to Mr. Ludlow.
Now she expected Cora to come running when she called, which was precisely why Cora wanted to ignore her and go the other way.
She mustered up a cheerful tone and entered the still room. "You bellowed, Mrs. Caddy?"
The cook's movements were frantic as she rummaged through the jars of spices. "Where's the thyme? I need it for the ragout." She picked up bottle after bottle, setting each down with a clank.
Cora approached the jars with a frown, frustrated that the once-neat rows were neat no longer. "It is here somewhere. If you had not shuffled everything around, I could have found it directly. I keep the thyme here next to the turmeric."
"Well, it's not there now, is it? And I've not shuffled anythin'."
It would be pointless to argue with Mrs. Caddy, so Cora ignored the comment and went through each and every bottle, sure she'd spot the jar soon enough. But, as Mrs. Caddy insisted, the thyme was not to be found.
Cora studied the lineup. "I do not understand. Where else could it be if not here?"
"If anyone should know, 'tis you."
With a sigh, Cora began looking through cupboards and drawers for the errant jar. Had Alice misplaced it somewhere? She was out in the garden harvesting carrots or Cora would have asked—not that it would do any good. Alice always put everything back in its proper place.
"How much thyme do you need, Mrs. Caddy?" Cora finally said when she could not find the missing herb. "I shall go pluck some from the garden right away."
"I don't want it fresh! It needs ter be dried! 'Tis the only way I've ever made it, and I can't try somethin' new, not when Mr. Ludlow's ter 'ave important guests tonight."
Cora was not knowledgeable enough in culinary matters to know if fresh herbs made an adequate substitution for dried. It seemed like they should, but she would have to take Mrs. Caddy's word that the two were not interchangeable. "Let me ask Alice if she knows where the jar has gone."
"But I need it now!" Mrs. Caddy said. "The broth needs ter sit for at least four hours if it's ter 'ave any flavor at all."
"I understand," said Cora. "And we shall do our best to see that you have your thyme as soon as possible."
Mrs. Caddy stormed off, and Cora strode out to the gardens where she learned, much to her regret, that Alice had no notion of where the herb had gone. Together, they returned to the still room and went through every jar on every shelf, once again with no luck.
By that point, Mrs. Caddy was wringing her hands as she strode anxiously around the kitchen. "What am I ter do? I can't very well make ragout without thyme!"
Not knowing where else to look, Cora could think of only one solution. "I will go straightaway to Knotting Tree and ask to borrow some from the cook there," she offered.
This had a perplexing effect on Mrs. Caddy. Rather than appear relieved, she raised her wooden spoon and shook it angrily at Cora. "I'll never borrow nothin' from the likes of that woman! Thinks she's the Queen of England, she does! I'll serve ragout without thyme before I go beggin' 'elp from 'er."
"Wonderful," said Cora. "Let's go without the thyme then."
Mrs. Caddy's face contorted into a look of pure outrage. "Are you daft? I can't be doin' that or the ragout will 'ave no flavor at'll!"
Cora felt her patience begin to slip away. There was obviously no pacifying the woman when she was in this state. Perhaps Cora could make up a cup of tea laced with laudanum and coerce Mrs. Caddy to drink it. She could put the cook to bed and attempt to make the ragout herself using fresh thyme. Surely fresh would taste better anyway, would it not? Cora really did not know.
"Well, Mrs. Caddy, the dried thyme cannot be found at this moment, so if you are unwilling to use the fresh thyme or even borrow some from the neighboring estate, the only other option is for you to switch today's menu with tomorrow's and make the roast pork and apples tonight instead. Alice and I will find you some dried thyme for tomorrow night."
"But Mr. Ludlow said it's ter be ragout tonight and pork tomorrow," argued Mrs. Caddy.
Cora barely refrained from raising her voice. "What difference will it make if they are switched? I daresay Mr. Ludlow will not even remember."
Mrs. Caddy opened her mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it and pinched her lips together in a frown. "'Appen you might be right."
Cora had never been more surprised in her life. She almost asked Mrs. Caddy to repeat the words just to be sure. "Wonderful. Now that we've settled that, is there anything I can do to help with tonight's dinner preparations?"
Expecting a snide comment about not needing the sort of help the housekeeper offered, Cora was once again stunned when Mrs. Caddy dropped a bushel of apples on the table in front of her.
"I need apples peeled quick as a wink. Think you're up ter it?"
Cora couldn't help but smile. "I may not be so quick as that, but I shall do my best."
Mrs. Caddy grunted, handed Cora a knife, and bustled off to prepare the pork. Feeling oddly victorious—or, at least hopeful that victory would one day come—Cora picked up an apple and began to peel it.
The dinner plates were returned not five minutes after they had been sent up, as full as they had been when they'd left. Cora frowned as two footmen carried the trays back into the kitchen and set them on the table. Mr. Ludlow was not far behind, passing her with barely a glance. He did not look at all happy, which caused a nervous pulse to beat about the room. Cora saw it in the tremble of hands, the intakes of breaths, and the sudden quiet that descended.
"Mrs. Caddy," he said, his deep voice sounding stern.
Mrs. Caddy pressed the palms of her hands together in an anxious way. "Is somethin' the matter, Mr. Ludlow?"
"Is there a reason the pork and apples were served tonight instead of the ragout as we discussed earlier this week?"
Mrs. Caddy cast an anxious glance at Cora before returning her gaze to their employer. "The thyme went missin', sir, and ragout can't be made without it. Mrs. Notley suggested we switch the menus, and I didn't see no 'arm in it." Her voice shook as she spoke, as though she feared the wrath of Mr. Ludlow—the likes of which Cora had never seen. She found it odd that all the servants seemed to live in fear of the man when he had been nothing but kind to her.
"How, exactly, did the thyme go missing?" His voice remained calm despite the fact that he was obviously upset with the switch, though Cora could not understand why.
Since it was her job to manage the spices, she stepped forward to answer. "Sir, it was on the shelf yesterday, and today it was not. Perhaps the jar sprouted wings and flew away."
His usual sense of humor did not emerge, and when his jaw hardened, Cora immediately wished her flippancy back. "Forgive me. I did not mean to make light of a serious matter."
"I'm sorry, sir!" Mrs. Caddy said, her voice rising. "I should've asked you first. It all 'appened so fast. I did not think…" Her voice trailed off, and her eyes became watery. "Am I ter be dismissed?"
Mr. Ludlow did not answer immediately, and Cora did not know why. Surely he would not dismiss Mrs. Caddy for such an innocent mistake, not when he had allowed Cora to remain after many more serious blunders.
She walked around the table to stand at Mrs. Caddy's side. It was only fair that she bear most of the blame. "Sir, as Mrs. Caddy said, it was my suggestion to switch the menus. If anyone should be held accountable, it is I. But, pray tell, is there a reason the pork will not suffice for tonight?"
Mr. Ludlow flicked a glance at Cora before returning his attention to Mrs. Caddy. "Under normal circumstances it would not matter in the slightest. But we have a guest with us tonight who will be leaving tomorrow morning—a Mr. Thomas, who happens to have a vicious allergy to cinnamon, which is an ingredient in the apple glaze, correct?"
Mrs. Caddy appeared horrified. "You mean ter say if 'e'd eaten—"
"He would have been rendered unable to breathe, and we would not have been able to get the doctor here in time to resuscitate him. He made his allergy very clear to me when he accepted my invitation, and I assured him that no dish containing cinnamon would be served. He was about to eat a bite when I put two and two together and put a stop to it."
"Great Jehoshaphat," Mrs. Caddy whispered, leaning heavily on the counter. "I about killed a man." Cora never would have imagined her capable of such vulnerability.
Feeling it necessary to intercede once more, Cora put a hand on Mrs. Caddy's shoulder. "But you did not," she said kindly. "Mr. Thomas is alive and well, is he not, sir?"
"Alive, well, and vastly hungry, as are the rest of my guests. Which leads us to the next problem. What are we to serve in place of the pork and glaze?"
Mrs. Caddy's eyes widened in shock, as though she hadn't realized the full extent of the situation until now. "I do not know, sir. All we have is the mock turtle soup I made for the servant's table."
"Turtle soup," Mr. Ludlow repeated slowly, as though Mrs. Caddy had proposed feeding the men table scraps instead of a hearty and tasty soup. He sighed in frustration and planted both palms on the table. "These are men I hope to do business with at some point, and you are saying that all I can offer them after a near-death experience is turtle soup?"
"Do you not like turtle soup, sir?" Cora asked, wondering at his strong reaction.
"I do not, as Mrs. Caddy well knows."
The cook burst into tears and cowered against the counter, her body trembling in anguish. "I'm sorry, sir! 'Tis all me fault."
For whatever reason, it bothered Cora to see the prideful Mrs. Caddy brought so low. Her heart went out to the woman. She eyed the dinner plates, wondering how the situation could be salvaged.
"Mr. Ludlow," Cora asked. "It is only Mr. Thomas who is allergic, is that right?"
"Yes."
"What if I were to slice him some fresh pork and serve it to him without the glaze?"
"The pork is not cooked with the glaze already on it?" he asked.
"No. They are made separately and the meat glazed just before it is taken up."
"Will it not taste dry without the sauce?"
The conversation served to bolster Mrs. Caddy's spirits. Tears forgotten, she ran to the larder and brought out a jar of applesauce. "There's no cinnamon in this. I'll warm this and serve it on Mr. Thomas's plate. It won't taste as pleasin', but it'll give the pork some flavor and keep it from bein' too dry."
Mr. Ludlow considered her a moment before nodding his agreement. "Very well. But you must make certain Mr. Thomas receives the plate without the cinnamon. I will do my best to explain what has happened and pray that they, like Mrs. Notley, can find some humor in the situation."
Unfortunately, Mr. Ludlow did not seem to find any. He appeared weary, as though his patience was wearing thin with a staff that couldn't see to things properly. He began to walk away, and Cora rushed forward to lay a hand on his arm. When he stopped abruptly and looked down, she immediately pulled it away, realizing she had greatly overstepped this time.
"Forgive me, sir," she said. "I merely wanted to point out that I am responsible for the spices. It was under my watch that the thyme went missing."
"I realize that, Mrs. Notley," was all he said before walking out of the kitchen and leaving behind a housekeeper who had finally gotten a glimpse of the employer the others viewed as formidable.
Cora drew in a deep breath and turned back to Mrs. Caddy, clapping her hands in a forced show of cheeriness. "Shall we get to work, then? If you heat up that sauce, Mrs. Caddy, I will make some new plates with meat hot from the oven. It is not necessarily a bad thing to starve guests a little before feeding them. They will likely be so ravenous that anything will taste like heaven, especially the delectable custard you made for dessert. Mark my words, Mrs. Caddy, all will be forgiven in no time."
Mrs. Caddy nodded, her formerly take-charge attitude renewed. "Thank you, Mrs. Notley. You're a good lass, you are." She gave Cora's arm a firm pat and got to work.
Cora couldn't help the smile that came to her lips as she re-plated the pork. For an upside-down day, it had righted well enough. Hopefully Mr. Ludlow would come to that conclusion as well. But even if he didn't, Cora would leave Tanglewood with the knowledge that she had done what she did not think could be done. She had formed at least a tentative friendship with Mrs. Caddy.
Sometimes miracles did happen.