up!” A fist pounded on the kitchen entrance, rattling the locked latch.
“I’m coming!” Glancing down at his bloodied trousers, Saybrook gave a wry grimace. “I won’t have to exaggerate my own ineptitude,” he added under his breath.
Shooting back the bolt, he flung the door open. “Don’t just stand there,” he snarled at the four guards who were staring in bewilderment at the carnage. “The chef has escaped. I tried to stop him but the damned fellow is as skilled as a butcher. You and you”—he jabbed a finger at the two closest men—“go after him. He fled through the garden. But have a care—he’s armed and dangerous.”
As the pair headed off in pursuit, Saybrook quickly turned to the remaining men.
Crouched in the darkness, Arianna listened to his orders, growing more mystified by the moment. He was saving her from the wolves. But why?
Through a crack in the door, she saw Saybrook grab the nearest man by the arm. “I want you to carry a message to Mr. Basil Henning, at number six Queen Street—and do it with all haste,” he barked. “Tell him that Lord Saybrook needs to see him immediately, but say nothing of what has happened. You are to wait and escort him back here. Understood?”
“Yes, milord!”
Milord? She frowned, feeling even more disoriented.
Saybrook waved the man on his way, and then addressed the last man. “And you are to remain with the Prince Regent. Lock yourself in his chamber, draw the curtains, and admit no one until I come and tell you otherwise.” He paused for a fraction. “Is that clear?”
The man snapped a salute.
“Go!” he ordered.
Drawing a deep breath, Saybrook waited for several long moments before approaching the pantry. He opened the door a touch more but did not enter. “I assume you have female clothing hidden in your room.”
“Yes,” answered Arianna in an equally low voice.
“Get dressed. And pack up any traces of your disguises,” he said curtly. “Be quick about it. When the moment comes, we will have to move fast. In the meantime, stay quiet as a church mouse.”
Arianna didn’t waste any time with questions. Gliding past him with quick, silent steps, she slipped into the shadows of the bedchamber.
“Who the devil are you?” he growled.
“I could ask the same of you, sir.”
He made a face. “A far more pressing question for both of us, Miss Smith, is why Major Crandall, late of the Horse Guards and Lord Grentham’s senior staff, is lying dead on the kitchen floor.”
6
From the chocolate notebooks of Dona Maria Castellano
Oh, how I had to laugh when I found another old journal in which the writer debated whether it was Columbus or Cortez who brought the first cacao beans to Europe. My research leads me to agree with his conclusions that Columbus had little interest in chocolate. But a far more delicious discovery was that English pirates who preyed on the Spanish treasure fleets sailing from the New World once burned an entire cargo of cacao beans, thinking they were sheep turds! Sandro will find that story greatly amusing. . . .
Mini Brownie Cupcakes
4 sticks unsalted butter, cut into pieces
8 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1¾ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably
Dutch-processed)
½ teaspoon salt
3¾ cups granulated sugar
8 large eggs
vegetable-oil cooking spray
confectioner’s sugar (optional)
1. Preheat oven to 350ºF and line 2 mini-muffin tins with liners. Spray liners with cooking spray.
2. Melt butter and chocolate in a 4-quart heavy pot over moderately low heat, stirring until smooth. Whisk together flour, cocoa, and salt. Remove pan from heat and whisk in granulated sugar. Add eggs, 1 at a time, whisking after each addition until incorporated, and stir in flour mixture just until blended.
3. Spoon batter into muffin liners, filling cups to top, and bake in middle of oven 25 to 30 minutes, or until a tester comes out with crumbs adhering. Cool 5 minutes in
“I’m coming!” Glancing down at his bloodied trousers, Saybrook gave a wry grimace. “I won’t have to exaggerate my own ineptitude,” he added under his breath.
Shooting back the bolt, he flung the door open. “Don’t just stand there,” he snarled at the four guards who were staring in bewilderment at the carnage. “The chef has escaped. I tried to stop him but the damned fellow is as skilled as a butcher. You and you”—he jabbed a finger at the two closest men—“go after him. He fled through the garden. But have a care—he’s armed and dangerous.”
As the pair headed off in pursuit, Saybrook quickly turned to the remaining men.
Crouched in the darkness, Arianna listened to his orders, growing more mystified by the moment. He was saving her from the wolves. But why?
Through a crack in the door, she saw Saybrook grab the nearest man by the arm. “I want you to carry a message to Mr. Basil Henning, at number six Queen Street—and do it with all haste,” he barked. “Tell him that Lord Saybrook needs to see him immediately, but say nothing of what has happened. You are to wait and escort him back here. Understood?”
“Yes, milord!”
Milord? She frowned, feeling even more disoriented.
Saybrook waved the man on his way, and then addressed the last man. “And you are to remain with the Prince Regent. Lock yourself in his chamber, draw the curtains, and admit no one until I come and tell you otherwise.” He paused for a fraction. “Is that clear?”
The man snapped a salute.
“Go!” he ordered.
Drawing a deep breath, Saybrook waited for several long moments before approaching the pantry. He opened the door a touch more but did not enter. “I assume you have female clothing hidden in your room.”
“Yes,” answered Arianna in an equally low voice.
“Get dressed. And pack up any traces of your disguises,” he said curtly. “Be quick about it. When the moment comes, we will have to move fast. In the meantime, stay quiet as a church mouse.”
Arianna didn’t waste any time with questions. Gliding past him with quick, silent steps, she slipped into the shadows of the bedchamber.
“Who the devil are you?” he growled.
“I could ask the same of you, sir.”
He made a face. “A far more pressing question for both of us, Miss Smith, is why Major Crandall, late of the Horse Guards and Lord Grentham’s senior staff, is lying dead on the kitchen floor.”
6
From the chocolate notebooks of Dona Maria Castellano
Oh, how I had to laugh when I found another old journal in which the writer debated whether it was Columbus or Cortez who brought the first cacao beans to Europe. My research leads me to agree with his conclusions that Columbus had little interest in chocolate. But a far more delicious discovery was that English pirates who preyed on the Spanish treasure fleets sailing from the New World once burned an entire cargo of cacao beans, thinking they were sheep turds! Sandro will find that story greatly amusing. . . .
Mini Brownie Cupcakes
4 sticks unsalted butter, cut into pieces
8 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1¾ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably
Dutch-processed)
½ teaspoon salt
3¾ cups granulated sugar
8 large eggs
vegetable-oil cooking spray
confectioner’s sugar (optional)
1. Preheat oven to 350ºF and line 2 mini-muffin tins with liners. Spray liners with cooking spray.
2. Melt butter and chocolate in a 4-quart heavy pot over moderately low heat, stirring until smooth. Whisk together flour, cocoa, and salt. Remove pan from heat and whisk in granulated sugar. Add eggs, 1 at a time, whisking after each addition until incorporated, and stir in flour mixture just until blended.
3. Spoon batter into muffin liners, filling cups to top, and bake in middle of oven 25 to 30 minutes, or until a tester comes out with crumbs adhering. Cool 5 minutes in
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