English Trifle

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “An apple would be fine,” he said, as if doing her a favor. She took one out of the fridge, rinsed it off, and handed it to him. He regarded it for a moment, turning it around in his hand and then took a small bite while she returned to searching the drawer. After that one bite he put the apple on the counter, which to Sadie said he wasn’t here for food.

  Austin let out a breath and looked around the kitchen, crossing his arms and planting his feet as if he were some kind of sentry. “Where is the kitchen help?”

  Sadie threw her hands up and out, cocking her head coyly as if she’d just burst out of a birthday cake. “Ta-da,” she said with a big grin. It went over like BLTs at a bar mitzvah. Austin didn’t react in the slightest, except to glower even more.

  Sadie dropped her hands and cleared her throat. “I haven’t seen anyone this morning other than Manny, the security guard.” However, the fact that Austin had asked after the kitchen help reminded Sadie that Lacy was usually in charge of breakfast. And then Charlotte had informed Austin that Lacy was missing. Would Austin have come to see Lacy?

  “So,” Sadie said, trying to come up with something to keep him talking. “You spend a lot of time at Southgate, do you?”

  Austin shrugged. “I’ve been living here since William became ill,” he said dryly, not seeming to be in any hurry to leave but not thrilled to be talking to her either. She wondered if he had a headache from all the wine he’d drunk last night—but then he’d been like this when she first met him, so maybe it was just his overall personality.

  “Where did you live before that?” she asked.

  “I had a flat in Exeter, but still spent a great deal of time out here. Once I became trustee it was apparent I needed to be here full time.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Sadie said, returning to the crumpets. She checked on the batter, but it wasn’t quite doubled just yet. There was still the problem of the crumpet rings. She wanted to explore the other parts of the kitchen, but felt funny doing so with Austin standing there. She decided to start the preparation for the breakfast casserole while she waited on the crumpet batter. She removed the ham and broccoli from the refrigerated case and set them on the butcher-block table. She diced the ham and began chopping the broccoli; Austin watched her with his eyebrows still pulled together.

  Her thoughts went back to Lacy. “Do you make it a habit of watching the cooks when you’re here?” Was that it? He had some kind of cooking fetish?

  “No,” he said simply, looking past her toward the staff dining room and, coincidentally, the door through which Lacy had disappeared yesterday. Sadie looked at him more closely, noting the tension in the set of his shoulders. Sadie finished the broccoli while Austin glanced at his watch and then looked up at her.

  Sadie didn’t respond; she just held his eyes for a few seconds, smiled, and headed toward a shelf stacked with various bowls, containers, steam trays, and other kitchen equipment. She had her eye on a large bowl on the top shelf, but had to stand on her tiptoes in order to barely brush it with her fingertips. She stretched even more and managed to scoot it off the shelf half an inch at a time before it finally dropped, allowing her to catch it. She felt it very poor manners on Austin’s part that he didn’t offer to help. Strike four . . . or twelve. She couldn’t remember how many times he’d been rude to her in one way or another.

  She put the bowl on the table, watching as his eyes went toward the door again. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked easily.

  “Why are you asking so many questions?” he snapped, glaring at her with what could only be classified as haughtiness. So much for his apology last night.

  “I’m just trying to make conversation seeing as how you’re intent on hanging out here with me, and, well, I’m a little curious about a woman that was here yesterday. I thought if you spent much time in the kitchen you might know her.”

  She was careful not to make eye contact while she said this, giving no impression she was leading him anywhere. The silence stretched itself tightly over several seconds, but Sadie forced herself to be patient. If she seemed too determined to get an answer, or too eager about what he would say, she might blow everything. She’d learned last night that Austin could reveal a great deal of information under the right circumstances. Too bad she hadn’t offered him any wine this morning. That might have helped.

  “What did she look like?” Austin asked after a moment, his words careful.

  “Small,” Sadie said, pulling open the refrigerated case to get the last of her ingredients—cheese, eggs, cottage cheese, and roasted potatoes. “She was wearing the same uniform as Mrs. Land, but she had a bandana tied over her hair.”

  “A bandana?” Austin asked crossly.

  “Maybe you call it a kerchief here? A scarf-type thing tied over her head. And she had pretty brown eyes. I think she was part Asian.”

  “Why were you curious about her?” There was a new kind of urgency in his tone now.

  “Well,” Sadie said, trying to sound causal as she cracked the first egg into the bowl. “She was with Mrs. Land when Breanna and I came running in here after finding the body. Mrs. Land told me to keep her here while she went to see what had happened in the sitting room. I tried to do as she said, but the girl ran for the door as soon as Mrs. Land left.”

  Austin put his head down—Sadie would have thought he was praying if not for the fact that he didn’t seem to be the type. But he said nothing. She cracked a few more eggs. Based on his interest in this girl, Sadie couldn’t help but reflect on the dozens of romance novels she’d read over the last few months. After awhile they all started to sound the same, with similar themes and scenes and structure. For the moment, however, her mind grabbed hold of the infamous lord and maid relationship, where someone of title went below his or her class to have a relationship with a servant. The Regency era had been two hundred years ago, and yet looking at Austin made her wonder if some things never changed. “Do you know her?” Sadie asked.

  Austin’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. “Of course I don’t know her,” he said, his words clipped. “Why would I know her?”

  Sadie put up her hands as if surrendering. The man was on a hair trigger this morning. “Okay, okay,” she said before lowering her hands to return to the eggs. “I was just curious as to who she was, that’s all. Mrs. Land said she usually did breakfast so I’ve been wondering if she’d come back this morning.” He continued to glare at her, but she couldn’t help pushing a little further. “But then she was quite upset when she ran out of here, so it doesn’t surprise me that she didn’t return.” His shoulder twitched slightly but he said nothing. It was all the encouragement Sadie needed to continue. “I apologize for insinuating you might know her. She’s just a staff member, right? And you’re a gentleman—two different worlds. It was silly of me to think you would know anything about her at all. My bad.”

  She finished with the eggs—sixteen in all since she was doubling the recipe—and began mixing them with a whisk. When they looked well-beaten, she added the cottage cheese and began looking around for a cheese grater. It was much easier to find than the crumpet rings had proved to be. She sampled one of the white cheeses that looked like Swiss. In fact it was Swiss, but had a kind of smoky flavor to it. Yummy. She grated it all into the bowl, then tasted another cheese. This one had a Roquefort flavor and she cringed. That wouldn’t work at all. The next cheese was just a plain old cheddar—perfect. She became so immersed in her cheeses that she nearly forgot Austin was there until he spoke.

  “This girl, yesterday, did she say anything before she left?”

  Aha. He’d taken the bait she’d nearly forgotten she’d put on the hook. She quickly put her mind back where she needed it to be and turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest and leaning one hip against the butcher-block table. It was her turn to be difficult. “In fact she did say something on her way out the door. I tried to stop her, but she was very determined, and very upset.”

 
He seemed to be waiting for her to tell him what the girl had said. She was waiting for him to ask.

  “Well, what did she say?” he barked after a few seconds.

  “Why should I tell you?” Sadie countered, lifting her chin slightly. “Seeing as how you don’t know her, why would it matter to you that some cook went running out of here crying?” With his manners she felt sure many a staff member had been brought to tears due to his comments.

  His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath. “It would be helpful for me to know what she said.”

  “Why?”

  He paused again and she could tell that he wasn’t used to people challenging him. He looked at the ground as if trying to figure out what to say next.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Sadie said as he searched for a reply.

  He looked up at her warily and she knew he thought she was going to ask about him and Lacy. The fear in his eyes, however, gave her all the answer she needed—Lacy was important to him, one way or another, but Sadie wasn’t supposed to know that. It was a secret. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why a cute young cook would matter to him, but Sadie didn’t let her thoughts wander too far in that direction. Although it would be interesting to hear the details, Austin’s relationship with Lacy wasn’t the most pressing bit of information she was after. Plus, she didn’t think he’d tell her the truth since he’d skirted every other question she’d asked about Lacy so far. “Tell me who John Henry was.”

  A look of confusion crossed Austin’s face. “John Henry?”

  Sadie nodded, her focus and her voice sharper now. “Who is he? How long has he worked here? Who would want to kill him?”

  “Why do you want to know?” he asked. Sadie realized that until this moment she hadn’t tipped her hand, hadn’t done anything that hinted at the investigation side of herself—she’d just been a bit of a pain in the tush for Austin to deal with. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake by revealing her true intentions now.

  “I asked you why you wanted to know what Lacy said and you refused to answer,” Sadie countered, using Lacy’s name out loud for the first time. Austin reacted to it just enough for Sadie to notice. “So, I’ll ignore your motivation and you can ignore mine. But if you tell me about John Henry, I’ll tell you what she said as she was running from the room, deal?”

  Austin considered it a moment before nodding slightly. “Okay,” he said, though his voice was still wary. “Deal.”

  Wake ’Em Up Breakfast Casserole

  1 pound sage sausage or ham or crisp bacon

  8 eggs

  1/2 teaspoon dry mustard powder or 1 teaspoon prepared mustard

  1 green pepper, diced

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1/2 teaspoon black pepper

  1 1/2 cups small-curd cottage cheese

  1 cup shredded Swiss cheese

  1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (sharp is best)

  4 cups frozen shredded hash browns

  1/2 cup of your favorite vegetable (optional) (Breanna—steamed broccoli; Jack—lots of onions and mushrooms)

  In a skillet, brown sausage or cook bacon until crispy; drain well. In a large bowl combine eggs, mustard, green pepper, salt, pepper, and cottage cheese. Mix until eggs are slightly beaten. Add cheeses and hash browns, mix well. Add meat and any optional veggies. Pour into a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes or until center is well-set and edges are browned. Let sit for 10 minutes before cutting.

  Serves 8.

  * Casserole can be made the night before and kept in the fridge. Add an additional 10 to 15 minutes to the baking time. (Lifesaver for when Shawn was playing football.)

  * Bake in muffin tins to make individual casseroles that are perfect for brunch. Decrease cooking time to 25 to 35 minutes.

  Chapter 21

  ~

  Sadie wished—for the hundredth time—that she had her notebook, and yet by the time Austin stopped talking, she wasn’t sure he’d told her anything of substance. Dr. Melcalfe had hired John Henry as the earl’s caretaker a day or so after the earl’s stroke. He was very attentive to the earl and helped keep him as comfortable as possible. He had previous experience with caring for the infirm, but had been a valet at some point earlier in his career so he also understood the consideration of caring for a nobleman. Austin described him as a congenial man who got on well with the rest of the staff and had never caused any trouble, although he did keep to himself in the earl’s quarters, going so far as to sleep on the sofa in the earl’s sitting room.

  “So he cares for the earl 24/7?” Sadie asked. That didn’t seem healthy.

  “Hiring a caretaker for an earl is not a decision to be made lightly,” Austin explained. “John Henry was hired because he is very committed. He has a day off every week that he can take at his leisure; Grant arranges for a maid or a footman to step in when John Henry is not available.”

  Sadie felt downright ripped off when Austin reached the end of his information. She’d hoped for a past criminal record, or, at the very least, a tragic childhood that could explain the dramatic end to his existence. Only as these disappointed thoughts came to mind did Sadie realize that she assumed John Henry was a “bad guy.” She was disappointed in herself for thinking such things, but considering that the victim in the last murder she’d helped solve had in fact made choices that led her to the end she met, Sadie had assumed that John Henry had also done something wrong enough to have gotten himself killed—not that it justified his grisly death.

  “So, that’s it?” Sadie said, trying not to sound dejected.

  Austin nodded. “That’s it. I don’t know of any reason anyone would want to kill him—if that’s what you were getting at—if in fact you really saw what you think you saw.”

  “Oh, I saw it,” Sadie said, annoyed that he still questioned her honesty. “It’s not something I’d get wrong.” She paused for a moment, reviewing what Austin had just told her. “And if John Henry is that committed to the earl, doesn’t his disappearance lend credibility to the fact that Breanna and I could be right about his murder?”

  “We searched the estate, and the police took everyone’s statements. There is simply no evidence of foul play.”

  “No one was looking for that kind of evidence,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “And John Henry is still missing.”

  “Maybe not,” Austin said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe he’s up with William right now.”

  “Have you checked to see if he’s there?” Sadie asked, even though she knew he hadn’t.

  Austin let out a breath, his arms still folded across his chest. “I have answered enough of your questions, now tell me what happened with the girl you spoke to yesterday.”

  Sadie complied—there was no reason not to since Austin had upheld his part of the bargain. Austin listened with his usual scowling expression.

  “That’s exactly what she said? That he made her promise to disappear if something happened?”

  Sadie nodded. “Yes.”

  “And she didn’t say who he was?”

  “No,” Sadie said, shaking her head for emphasis. “She didn’t say.” She kept to herself the fact that she thought Lacy had been talking about John Henry.

  “Hmmm,” Austin said, looking past Sadie’s shoulder. Without another word he turned and left.

  Sadie narrowed her eyes. Privilege did not necessarily come with personality any more than poverty did.

  With a shrug of her shoulders she went back to the work she’d neglected during her conversation with Austin and began chopping the potato wedges into smaller pieces. When she finished, she added them to the egg-and-cheese mixture along with the broccoli.

  It was time to find the crumpet rings—the batter should be ready soon and she really wanted to serve crumpets with breakfast, not pikelets. She looked all through the kitchen and then stepped into a hallway where there were three walk-in freezer-type doors with signs that read “Freezer,” “Cooler
,” and “Vegetable Pantry.” Past these walk-ins was a narrow door—like a closet. She opened that door and flipped on the light, looking down the narrow room full of shelves on either side. The room was about twenty feet deep and smelled like dust and wood; she didn’t imagine it was used very often, and probably not at all since Mrs. Land had taken over the kitchen. After a small hesitation, she stepped inside, looking up and down the shelves. There were old kitchen appliances, more cookbooks, platters, mismatched cups, and stacks of papers and notebooks. Several rolls of toilet paper were even scattered across the floor—in a word, the room was a mess. After a full five minutes of looking, Sadie began to prepare herself for the fact that there might not be any crumpet rings. She’d have to make pikelets after all. How discouraging.

  She was in the process of turning back when she saw a box marked “Bottle Rings.” She pulled the box toward her enough to see that it was full of what she would call canning rings—the metal rings screwed onto a Mason jar to hold the lid on tight while the jar cooled after processing. She’d put up several pints of applesauce just a few months earlier using rings exactly like these. She smiled, imagining that they would likely do quite nicely in place of actual crumpet rings.

  She returned to the kitchen and sorted through the rings, choosing to use the larger ones made for wide-mouth jars. After throwing the rings in a sink full of hot soapy water to soak, she retrieved the individual casserole dishes she’d seen on the shelf by the dishwasher and finished mixing up the casserole. She was just about to start dishing out the mixture when she thought back to those three walk-ins. There hadn’t been a green pepper in the refrigerated case in the kitchen, but might there be more items in the walk-in? Even an onion would help kick up the flavor factor. The clock said it was not quite 6:30—she still had plenty of time if she wanted to serve breakfast at 8:00, which was the time it had been served yesterday. It would only take a matter of minutes to check and see if there were peppers or onions available.