Read Online Lord Nick's Folly by Emily Hendrickson - Free Book Online
Authors: Emily Hendrickson
Tags: Regency Romance
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grandniece is anxiously looking forward to viewing a bit of Sherwood Forest."
"He thinks I should like to discover a Robin Hood there. I fancy that would be the last thing desired!" Nympha's voice was full of her disdain.
At that fortuitous moment Foley appeared in the doorway to announce in a grand manner that dinner was served.
As they walked into the imposing dining room, the walls of which were covered in the same red silk, Great-Aunt Letitia drew Nympha to her side. "And what would you like to do, dear? I am persuaded you would enjoy hunting for lace. You must have some for yourself, and perhaps your mother and sisters would welcome some as well? We can go to the factory and select whatever you wish, you know."
Visions of lace danced before Nympha for several moments. Sensible of the cost this would represent, Nympha hedged. "Perhaps a bit of lace, ma'am. There are several garments I should like to trim." She glanced down at her white crepe, with puffed trim but sadly lacking any lace, and thought of her petticoat. "It would be very nice."
"We shall see." Great-Aunt Letitia smiled, a pleased sort of expression that told Nympha nothing more than she would have her wish to acquire a bit of lace.
"I must apologize for my subterfuge. I was not injured. I merely wanted the pleasure of a visit from you. I feared your father might thwart my wish."
"I did wonder. I'm happy to see you in good health, ma'am." Nympha speculated as to why her elderly relative wanted to see her.
The dinner was all that any of them might expect in so fine a house, and more than Nympha had imagined. Great-Aunt Letitia casually mentioned that she had begun to employ the latest style in serving— à la russe. "I observed it while in Russia last summer. I think it an eminently sensible way to serve guests."
Nympha looked to the sideboard where, rather than arranged on the table, the serving dishes were set out in splendor. The footmen handed them around to the guests in strict rotation. The plate of soup set before her had a heavenly aroma, one she couldn't identify, but delicious to her taste. The footman whisked away her soup plate the moment she had finished, to replace it with a pretty china dinner plate.
It amused her to have first the fine beef roast served, then the potatoes, followed by beans smothered in a cream sauce, and lastly a marvelous sauce for the meat. The various aromas teased her nose. She would have to let Drusilla know about that sauce, for it not only had a heavenly scent of sage about it, but also other subtle flavors.
The same routine was repeated with the desserts, a lemony pudding in a meringue basket and a chocolate soufflé. Nympha elected to have a bit of each—how could she choose only one!
The soufflé floated down her throat in an essence of chocolate delight. The lemon and meringue was unlike anything she had tasted before combining those two— sharp yet sweet, light yet rich.
A glance at Lord Nicholas revealed that he appeared to be enjoying the food as much as she did.
The service à la russe seemed very practical from Nympha's limited experience. When she had dined at Lanstone Hall, it had been a mad confusion of serving dishes here and there on the table, and she often did not have access to the foods she particularly enjoyed.
Mama would be amazed to learn that you could have far fewer dishes to be served, limiting the work in the kitchen. It might be easier on the budget as well.
By the time they left the dining room the hour was late, and Nympha longed for her bed. Some of her fatigue must have shown in her face, for it was suggested by her thoughtful great-aunt that she retire at once. "It must have been a long day for you, dear girl."
"Thank you, most observant of great-aunts. I am very tired and will welcome that lovely bed in my room." Nympha managed a graceful curtsy.
Mr. Milburn offered to see Nympha to the top of the stairs, holding her candle for her most gallantly as they walked up the
"He thinks I should like to discover a Robin Hood there. I fancy that would be the last thing desired!" Nympha's voice was full of her disdain.
At that fortuitous moment Foley appeared in the doorway to announce in a grand manner that dinner was served.
As they walked into the imposing dining room, the walls of which were covered in the same red silk, Great-Aunt Letitia drew Nympha to her side. "And what would you like to do, dear? I am persuaded you would enjoy hunting for lace. You must have some for yourself, and perhaps your mother and sisters would welcome some as well? We can go to the factory and select whatever you wish, you know."
Visions of lace danced before Nympha for several moments. Sensible of the cost this would represent, Nympha hedged. "Perhaps a bit of lace, ma'am. There are several garments I should like to trim." She glanced down at her white crepe, with puffed trim but sadly lacking any lace, and thought of her petticoat. "It would be very nice."
"We shall see." Great-Aunt Letitia smiled, a pleased sort of expression that told Nympha nothing more than she would have her wish to acquire a bit of lace.
"I must apologize for my subterfuge. I was not injured. I merely wanted the pleasure of a visit from you. I feared your father might thwart my wish."
"I did wonder. I'm happy to see you in good health, ma'am." Nympha speculated as to why her elderly relative wanted to see her.
The dinner was all that any of them might expect in so fine a house, and more than Nympha had imagined. Great-Aunt Letitia casually mentioned that she had begun to employ the latest style in serving— à la russe. "I observed it while in Russia last summer. I think it an eminently sensible way to serve guests."
Nympha looked to the sideboard where, rather than arranged on the table, the serving dishes were set out in splendor. The footmen handed them around to the guests in strict rotation. The plate of soup set before her had a heavenly aroma, one she couldn't identify, but delicious to her taste. The footman whisked away her soup plate the moment she had finished, to replace it with a pretty china dinner plate.
It amused her to have first the fine beef roast served, then the potatoes, followed by beans smothered in a cream sauce, and lastly a marvelous sauce for the meat. The various aromas teased her nose. She would have to let Drusilla know about that sauce, for it not only had a heavenly scent of sage about it, but also other subtle flavors.
The same routine was repeated with the desserts, a lemony pudding in a meringue basket and a chocolate soufflé. Nympha elected to have a bit of each—how could she choose only one!
The soufflé floated down her throat in an essence of chocolate delight. The lemon and meringue was unlike anything she had tasted before combining those two— sharp yet sweet, light yet rich.
A glance at Lord Nicholas revealed that he appeared to be enjoying the food as much as she did.
The service à la russe seemed very practical from Nympha's limited experience. When she had dined at Lanstone Hall, it had been a mad confusion of serving dishes here and there on the table, and she often did not have access to the foods she particularly enjoyed.
Mama would be amazed to learn that you could have far fewer dishes to be served, limiting the work in the kitchen. It might be easier on the budget as well.
By the time they left the dining room the hour was late, and Nympha longed for her bed. Some of her fatigue must have shown in her face, for it was suggested by her thoughtful great-aunt that she retire at once. "It must have been a long day for you, dear girl."
"Thank you, most observant of great-aunts. I am very tired and will welcome that lovely bed in my room." Nympha managed a graceful curtsy.
Mr. Milburn offered to see Nympha to the top of the stairs, holding her candle for her most gallantly as they walked up the
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