Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]

Epilogue

July 11th 1841

Verushka stirred from sleep to a cooling chamber and glimpsed the memory of a fire flickering in the hearth. She shivered under the heavy covers and drew closer to her husband in the dark. A storm still raged outside and flashes of lightening  lit the borders of heavy linen curtains to the timing of distant rumbles in the clouds.  This Season, the London summer had lasted only two short weeks and many families had already hastened to their country estates to ruminate through the fast approaching winter.

Verushka smiled affectionately at her husband who mumbled incoherently in his sleep. The Duke of Bexley was as endearing in his nocturnal conversations as he was during the day. She drew the tip of her index finger lovingly over the curve of his cheek and his eyes flicked beneath closed lids before snapping open. From sleep to awake in the time it took to fire an arrow. Cupid's arrow. Straight to her heart, she mused romantically.

"Happy Anniversary, my dear." Cain's sleep soaked voice poured over her like honey.

"Happy Anniversary, Your Grace," Verushka whispered against his lips, ruining the effect with a chatter of teeth.

"Are you cold? Shall I call a servant to re-light the fire?" Cain offered already reaching for the bell pull.

Verushka grabbed his forearm and pulled him back into bed. After months of coaxing she had finally managed to line up both the incentive and the inclination for Madam Sheila and Vincent the butler to attempt their first night of courtship. There was certainly no way that she would ruin all her good work with their ill-timed death by 'severe chill.'

"I have a better idea." Verushka grinned as her stomach churned with sudden hunger.

She jumped from the bed and slipped on a long silk dressing gown over her negligee then wrapped a thick woollen blanket about her shoulders and reached for the door handle.

"My dear, where are you going?" Cain called curiously as he lay sprawled over the bed.

"Track me if you can, Sir Hunter. I am going to the one place that I know always stays warm!"

Verushka shut the door and padded swiftly down the carpeted halls until her bare soles flinched over the chilly stone of the kitchen stairs. Reaching the bottom she pushed open the wooden doors to the warm embrace of the pantry and spied a fresh batch of butter biscuits sitting atop the table and perfuming the air with their sugary scent.

She held the blanket around her shoulders with one hand and swiftly filled a kettle with water bringing it to the boil for two steaming cups of tea. She sat nibbling at the corner of a shortbread, its crumbs littering the surface of her lips, when Cain entered the room to wrap his arms around her.

"Already into the baked goods without even waiting for me?" He placed a kiss upon the back of her neck playfully before grabbing two biscuits and swallowing them hastily one after the other.

"Early bird. Worm." Verushka mumbled between bites.

"You know, I meant to ask you about these biscuits before." Cain gulped his tea appreciatively. "They still taste delicious, but the way Cook made them a year ago was simply unbeatable.

A small frown marred Verushka's features and she ceased her chewing. "That's because Madam Shiela didn't make them. Liara did." Verushka lay her half eaten biscuit on the edge of her plate.

Cain felt the weariness in her words. He knew that the loss of his wife's friendship with the other maids had weighed heavily on her and he had done his best to shield her from the void their absence created. On the first occasion that Verushka had found the pantry empty and dank from disuse it had made her silent for a full week. So Cain had instructed the kitchen staff to always keep the pantry warm at night despite not a soul lingering there after dark. Now the ovens permanently burned and butter biscuits were constantly kept on standby. It was the least he could do for his wife while she still mourned the only life she had ever known.