by K E O'Connor
“Come off it,” I said. “Accidents happen.”
“Not on my watch.” He gestured me to keep walking. “Don’t touch anything.”
“Ooooh! This looks like it’s from the Ming Dynasty.” I stared at the tall vase decorated with robed figures surrounded by forest.
“What do you know about the Ming Dynasty?”
“I studied it at university,” I said. “I did a history degree.”
“How did that work out for you?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not brilliant. The only career option offered to me when I graduated was a history teacher, and I didn’t want that. Instead, I find myself living among history every day in this castle. And I’ve never lost my love for the Tudor period. There’s something exciting about that part of our history. Don’t you agree?”
He grunted. “Fascinating.”
I shrugged. Campbell clearly wasn’t a lover of history.
Meatball and the new corgi darted out from under a chaise lounge and raced toward us.
“Grab them!” I ducked and held my arms out to Meatball.
He swerved past me at the last second and doubled back.
The cute corgi was now chasing him, and she was having a great time.
“Huh! He’s fast for a little dog,” Campbell said.
“When he wants something, he can be determined.” I hurried after the corgis.
“It’s in their nature.” Campbell walked beside me.
“You know about corgis?”
“I do. The Duchess takes them everywhere. I’ve gotten to know her pets over the years.”
“And you like them?”
“I don’t dislike them. Although they can be stubborn little critters.”
I grinned. “Meatball has been known to be bull-headed.”
“Reminds me of his owner.”
“Here they come,” I said. “You head off the female. I’ll grab Meatball. He might not respond too well if you go for him.”
Campbell smirked. “One little dog won’t trouble me.”
Maybe he didn’t know his corgis as well as he thought. Their determination when they wanted something was second to none. I’d seen it in Meatball when he set his eyes on a particularly delicious sandwich I’d made. If I didn’t watch it like a hawk, it would be gone in a flash.
“Here we go. Get ready.” I focused on Meatball. His tail was up and he almost skipped with joy.
The corgis owned by the Duchess were downright mean to him, so he must have been delighted at finding a friend. I felt a bit mean for breaking up the party.
“Get ready,” I repeated.
“I was born ready,” Campbell muttered.
I chuckled at the cliché as he crouched and flexed his fingers. He looked like he was about to go into a rugby scrum, not stop a corgi in her tracks.
“Meatball!” I patted my thighs. “Come here, boy. I’ve got liver sausage in my pocket. You love liver sausage. Come get a tasty treat.”
His ears pricked at the word treat and he slowed, glancing at me.
“That’s it, boy. All-you-can-eat doggy buffet if only you come here.”
“He’s not thinking with his head,” Campbell said.
“That happens to a lot of guys,” I said.
Campbell snorted again.
Meatball slowed to a trot, but the female corgi kept charging along, her excitement up.
Campbell lunged at the corgi at the same time as I grabbed Meatball. I scooped him into my arms and hoisted his front paws over my shoulder, clamping his back legs securely in my other hand so he wouldn’t escape.
“Hey, handsome boy. Have you been making friends? How did you get in the castle?”
“Woof woof,” he barked happily, giving my cheek a quick lick, his gaze still on the other corgi.
I turned and just about managed to stop from bursting out with laughter. Campbell was sprawled on the floor as the dog danced away from him.
“Having a spot of bother with your corgi?” I grinned as I walked over with Meatball, feeling more than a bit smug at capturing my prey.
Campbell climbed smoothly to his feet and scowled. “She dodged at the last second. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Corgis are smart.”
“She’s not getting away.” He stalked after the corgi, weaving around the expensive furniture as she ducked and dived to avoid Campbell.
“You’re scaring her,” I said. “And you don’t want her to damage anything. She’ll be arrested.”
“That rule only applies to humans,” Campbell said. “The corgis can get away with murder.”
My thoughts briefly turned to what Lady Philippa had said. She hadn’t told me if the death would be from natural causes or if somebody was out to harm another person. I should have clarified that, but perhaps her pig in his wig didn’t mention it in her dream state. He must have been too busy eating from that bowl of figs to worry about little details like that.
I shook my head. It was most likely a lurid dream. Lady Philippa had gotten carried away with the excitement of the upcoming food fair.
“Got you!” Campbell dived, grabbed the dog, and did a forward roll as he tucked the corgi against his chest, coming to stand upright with the surprised looking dog in his arms.
“Wow! I’m impressed. Did they teach you that move in spy school?”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “Dog napping is a key part of my skills. Have you got yours under control?”
“Always,” I said.
“It looked like it while he was scampering along the corridors of the castle ignoring you.”
“It’s good that my dog’s independent.” I lifted my chin.
“Stubborn dog, stubborn owner,” Campbell muttered.
The door to the Canopy Room opened. I froze as Duke Henry Audley and Duchess Isabella Audley walked in.
“Goodness! I didn’t know we had guests.” The Duchess walked over, a smile on her face as she spotted the corgi. “I’ve been looking for Priscilla. You naughty girl, you got away from me.”
“I was just returning her to you.” Campbell swiftly handed the dog to the Duchess.
“Thank you, Campbell. You’re always looking out for my dogs.” The Duchess’s attention turned to me. “And you have a corgi too. I’ve heard about the legendary Meatball.”
“He’s taken a shine to your new dog,” I said.
“Oh, how adorable.” The Duchess walked over and petted Meatball’s head.
He wagged his tail and sniffed her hand before giving it a lick.
“And what a handsome boy,” she said. “He’s not a purebred, is he?”
“No, Meatball’s a mixture. There’s definitely some terrier in there.”
“He’s charming. I’m sure Priscilla will be thrilled to have a new friend if you think they’ll get along.”
“Of course. I think he’s in love.”
The Duchess laughed softly. “I’m introducing Priscilla to the others slowly. They can be a bit ... feisty when a new arrival comes along. It takes them a while to organize the pack order, but I couldn’t resist this adorable face.” She kissed the top of the dog’s head.
Her pack of corgis were difficult. They always enjoyed chasing and picking on Meatball every chance they got.
“We should organize a doggy play date,” the Duchess said. “What do you think, my dear?” She gestured to the Duke, who’d been peering at an oil painting on the wall ever since he’d entered the room.
“Oh, yes. Very good. Whatever you think. We can get one of the boys to sort the dogs out.”
I tilted my head. What did he mean by that?
“My love, we don’t have boys. Holly here owns Meatball, and Sammy walks my dogs when I don’t have the time.”
“That’s right, I always forget,” the Duke said. “And the servants will be busy with the food fair soon enough.”
“Staff, not servants, my angel.” The Duchess lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face. “My husband prefers the old days.” Sh
e lowered her voice. “He sometimes forgets that we don’t live in the nineteenth century.”
“I love history,” I said. “I understand why the Duke is so fascinated by that time period.”
Campbell discreetly cleared his throat.
I imagined him glaring at me for being so forward, but the Duchess had started the conversation. It would be rude not to take part.
“Don’t get him talking about the family history,” the Duchess said quietly. “He’ll never let you leave.”
I nodded. “We should go. This is your private room, but Meatball chased after Priscilla and—”
“Don’t think anything of it. I’m sure Campbell had everything in hand.” The Duchess nodded at him. “He’s my top bodyguard.”
“He’s very good at catching dogs,” I said, trying hard to keep a neutral expression on my face.
She grinned. “That he is. I’ve had him racing after my cherubs on numerous occasions. Come on, my dear. Let’s get you settled in your chair with a book.”
“Ah. Yes. Very good,” the Duke said.
“Oh, will we see you at the food fair, Holly?” the Duchess asked as she reached a set of antique high-back chairs with gold arms. “I’m looking forward to your entry in the cake competition. We’re judging this year.”
“I’ll be there,” I said, pleased she remembered my desserts. “I’ll try not to let you down.”
“Your food could never let us down. You’re a genius with your cakes. I can’t wait to sample them.” She nodded before turning and walking to the bookcase, her husband trailing along behind her.
“You need to leave.” Campbell was right behind me, his voice low and slightly menacing in my ear.
I turned and stepped away. “I wish you wouldn’t creep up on me like that.”
“Then stop poking around in places you shouldn’t.”
I longed to argue with him, but not when the Duke and Duchess were present. “I’m going. I’ve got cakes to deal with.”
“And a dog.” Campbell briefly petted Meatball before he strode out of the room.
Meatball whined and looked longingly at Priscilla.
“Sorry, buddy. She’s way out of your league. We’re not meant for royalty. Come on, let’s go get you that liver sausage I promised you.”
Chapter 3
“What do you think of this one?” I passed a small slice of dark chocolate and rosewater sponge cake to Alice.
She took a bite and closed her eyes as she chewed carefully. “As with all the others you’ve fed me in the last hour, it’s scrumptious. I don’t know how you’ll decide which one to enter in the competition.”
I scratched my chin. Neither did I. I’d baked a chocolate and orange sponge, but that didn’t seem elaborate enough. I’d also tried a twist on chocolate eclairs, filling them with a gooey chocolate caramel and topping them with spun sugar, but they didn’t look quite right. Then I’d stuck to a classic Victoria sponge filled with strawberry preserves and buttercream. And that was just in the last two hours. There were several more discarded experiments on the counter.
I needed something that would stand out without looking ostentatious. Audley Castle was built on firm and ancient traditions. The judges wouldn’t like anything too artsy or new-fangled. It had to be something traditional, look amazing, and taste great.
“I really can’t decide,” Alice said. “We need a second opinion.”
“Who do you have in mind?” I asked.
“I’ve got just the person. He always tells it like it is, and has a sweet tooth, although he tries to hide it.” She grinned as she climbed off the stool by the kitchen counter and left the room.
Who could she be talking about? If she brought in Rupert, he’d be no good. He loved everything I baked. Even if I made a cake mix from a packet and simply added an egg and some milk, he’d say it was the best thing I’d ever baked.
The kitchen door opened. Alice was dragging behind her a reluctant looking Campbell.
I hadn’t seen him since the corgi wrangling incident in the Canopy Room two days ago.
“This is your perfect taste tester,” Alice said.
“I’m on duty, Princess,” he said. “I can’t be distracted.”
“You’re guarding me. You can hardly do that effectively by lurking outside the kitchen door. In here, you’ll see if any danger is sneaking up on me.”
Campbell looked at the selection of cakes on the counter, and his eyes gleamed. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“I always am,” Alice said. “Try this ... what was it, Holly?” She pointed at the cake she’d just sampled.
“Belgian chocolate sponge with ganache chocolate icing and rosewater. I’m trying a twist on an old tradition.” I offered a piece to Campbell.
He took a bite and chewed. “Not bad. The sponge is a bit dense.”
“My sponge is never dense!” I bristled at his insult.
He shrugged. “I’ve eaten my fair share of cakes. You’ve done better.”
I hated to agree with him, but I’d thought the exact same thing. Maybe it was the rosewater, or I simply hadn’t whisked enough.
“Okay, that one’s out,” I said. “I wasn’t sure about it, anyway.”
“I was reading about a restaurant in London where the chef injects air into his food,” Alice said. “Apparently, it’s a new dieting trend. People go for this beautifully created food, and when they bite into it, there’s barely anything there.”
“That’s a waste of a good meal,” Campbell said.
I nodded. “And money. Why pay to eat air?”
“It’s where the supermodels are dining.” Alice glanced at Campbell. “Do you think I’m too curvy?”
His shoulders tensed. “I really couldn’t say.”
She grinned at me. “I eat too many of Holly’s amazing desserts to be a supermodel. If I didn’t like her so much, I’d think she was trying to fatten me up.”
“I’d never do that.”
She giggled. “My friend, Tabitha, wants us to go to this air food restaurant. She’s always trying to drop ten pounds, even though she’s already far too small.”
“She should try cycling everywhere,” I said. “It works wonders on the waistline.”
Campbell adjusted his collar. It was one of the few times I’d seen him look uncomfortable.
I cut a slice off my caramel and vanilla sponge. “Campbell, try this.”
“Me too.” Alice grabbed the slice meant for Campbell and took a bite. “Oh my goodness. Heaven!”
Campbell chewed on the piece I gave him, his expression thoughtful. “This is good. It’s caramel and something else. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Good enough for the judging table?” I asked.
“You’ve almost got it with this one,” he said. “And I agree about sticking to tradition. We don’t want air-filled cakes presented to the Duchess.”
“There’s not a chance of that,” I said. “I like real food full of amazing flavor. I was thinking about a Neapolitan and red velvet layer cake with a chocolate chip mousse. I’m having doubts. It might be too much.”
“I like the sound of that,” Campbell said.
“You’ll have to come to the fair, Campbell,” Alice said. “You can watch when Holly wins.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I said. “There’ll be a lot of competition. Just yesterday, I had three contestants come to the kitchen and try to find out what I was making.”
Alice chuckled. “They’re afraid of you. You’re the one everyone’s watching, Holly.”
“Don’t put pressure on me. I want this to be fun.” But I did want to win. My baking was great, but it would be nice to get recognition. And I had the perfect place on the mantelpiece over my fire in my apartment where a little trophy would fit.
“So, Campbell, you’ll be at the fair?” Alice asked.
“Of course, Princess. I’ll be working there.”
Alice sighed. “One day, I’ll get you out with me when you’
re not on guard duty.” She giggled, and a blush rose to her cheeks.
Campbell simply nodded.
“I was speaking to Lady Philippa the other day,” I said. “She had some interesting thoughts about a problem that might occur at the food fair.”
“Oh gosh, not one of her silly predictions,” Alice said.
“Are they so silly?” I asked. “She was accurate when it came to the death of Lord Rupert’s friend, Kendal.”
“That’s because she sees everything through those huge binoculars she’s always peering through,” Alice said. “Although she does sometimes see too much.”
“Like the future?” I asked cautiously.
“Maybe. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Alice dashed out of the kitchen before I could stop her.
I glanced at Campbell. He always made me feel like I was doing something wrong, even when I was on my best behavior. “Do you want to try more cake?”
“I’ll have a piece of that Bakewell tart on the counter.”
I handed it to him. “I’m not thinking of entering this, but it might be a nice addition to the café menu.”
“It’s good,” he mumbled around the tart.
I placed my cutting knife down and busied myself with tidying away some equipment. I’d baked a dozen different options for the cake contest over the last forty-eight hours and wasn’t happy with any of them. I shouldn’t resist the Neapolitan and red velvet layer cake. It could be just what I was looking for.
Campbell finished his Bakewell tart and wiped his hands on a napkin. “You mentioned a problem Lady Philippa had predicted. What are we talking about?”
“I couldn’t decipher it. She was cryptic.” I tilted my head and paused in my tidying. “Do you have any thoughts on her ability to see the future?”
“Some. Nothing I’m prepared to share.”
“Because you don’t want to speak badly about a member of the family?”
“Lady Philippa has my utmost respect. It’s not right to pass judgment on someone’s ... eccentricities.”
“What if she really can see the future? That would be handy in your line of work.”
“Then she should be studied in a laboratory if that’s the truth.” He shook his head. “It’s not possible.”