Dry Apple leaf

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“Are the tables all draped? Do we have enough chairs? One, two, three, four…eight on the either side. Sixteen chairs. Excellent! Bella, the willow patterned tea service is in the Kitchen cabinet, rush on and bring them here. Three sets, alright? Good. We have the tea counters there. And the lemonades are placed beneath the apple tree. Girls, I want those roses arranged and…”

The scuttle that Mrs. Hopkins was charging upon everyone had no limits and almost all the maids were dashing across the lawn to the fountain from the Ashleyton manor and back with no breath to expend. The hefty housekeeper wanted all to be perfect. There was no reason why the serving should not be a wonderful one.

The color that nature had put on had amplified greenery to the level of spring beauty. The apple tree were heavy with the ripe fruits and not the hardest gust of the wind could sway it in the least.

Squirrels appeared high on spirit. So did the little sparrows, sprinting on the branches and perching on the vacant chairs.

It was a quixotic sort of day. Romantic sort of day.

Eden’s fingers worked briskly as she dished up the garlic bread chunks on the platter in a vogue design with Maggie at her side. She had not wanted to stay out after the reception event but nor did she feel like giving Lord Adelwood an impression that she was idling around while the other girls worked.

It had been quite about five and forty minutes since all the sixteen guests (Four ladies and twelve gentlemen including his Lordship) had been led into the manor and now, they were to come out any minute here.

As soon as the plate was arranged, Eden asked Maggie to place it on the table and she herself went to the ant-busy Mrs. Hopkins.

The old housekeeper was announcing orders but stopped short the moment her eyes met with Eden’s gaze.

“It’s done, Mrs. Hopkins.” Eden signaled at the now well arranged table.

“Good.” The lady nodded, knowing there was more to come.

“Well….” A bit uneasy now, Eden cleared her throat. “I suppose I should be going now.”

The housekeeper sighed but her eyes were never withdrawn off Eden’s face.

“You do not have to face him Eden if you do not wish to. You were not supposed to be here in the first place.”

Eden fussed with the sleeve of her dress  as the lady talked to her.

Mrs. Hopkins was right. She didn’t want to face him.

She was afraid of his mere presence in her range of vision.

“You should have been in your room, sleeping.” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Go. Rest.”

“Fine, then.” She nodded at last. “If I am needed….do call me though.” And bowing a quick curtsey, she turned around and started to stride off toward the cold stoned manor.

She had not reached halfway down the front lane when Maggie suddenly jumped at her side with a wild “Booo!!

“Maggie, you startled me.” Eden cried shifting a little away from her.

“Yup.” Maggie grinned. “That’s what I intended to do. You walk like you have hell-hounds following you.”

“If hell-hounds ever follow me, I shall run. And not walk.” Eden then noticed the small ceramic pot in Magi’s hand. “And where to with that pot?”

“Oh, this is the jam.” Maggie grumbled. “Mrs. Hopkins said we won’t need it. Though I believe she would have needed it if it was in the kitchen two hundred miles away.”

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