Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 26

"I hope I'm doing this right. I'm not sure I recalled Mama's recipe correctly."
Marguerite muttered as she put a baking tray filled with cookie dough into the oven. Turning back to the kitchen table, she took off the dish towel wrapped around her right hand and draped it over the chair before taking a seat.

Standing on the other side of the table, the Cook, a nice, hearty woman in her late forties stopped chopping onions and glanced at her with a fond smile,
"I'm glad to have you around again, Maggie. I never thought I'd see the day you'd be back here baking cookies."

A wistful smile curled up on her lips as memories of the good old days wiggled their way out of the far recesses of her mind. She and her mother used to spend time together in the kitchen
baking a lot of cookies and gingerbread, only to share them with the servants and casino staff. Back in the day, the heavenly smell of freshly baked cookies along with laughter of the happy servants always wafted on the air here.

She'd been avoiding the kitchen since her mother's death, because it only brought pain and sorrow to see this place without her, but today, for the first time in a long time, she eventually set foot in the kitchen again, all because of Matthew. Because she wanted to make him a special treat.

"Nothing spells special like hand-baked goods. Something you make with your own two hands, and with all your heart."
Her mother always said, so she returned to the kitchen and dug into the long forgotten recipe once again.

Shoving her chopping block aside, Cook wiped her hands on her apron and reached over to grab a kettle on the stove.
"How's the man today?"
The woman poured her some tea and pushed the cup toward her. Marguerite muttered thanks and sipped the tea.
"Getting better. I'm glad he made it through the night without catching a fever."

"Have we found his family?"

"No. He has no one. He lost his parents at an early age and has been living in the streets since then."

"How very sad." Cook said with a sigh.
"We should never take for granted simple blessings like having a roof above our head."

Marguerite chatted with Cook while waiting for the cookie dough to set, and soon she regretted having avoided the kitchen for so long, unintentionally shutting out the few kitchen staff who'd been loyal and caring to her, while she could have found a little comfort in their company rather than locking herself away upstairs.

Almost an hour later, the kitchen was filled with the heavenly aroma of freshly baked cookies. Sitting on her heels, Marguerite opened the oven door and pulled the baking tray out of the oven.

"It's perfect!"
She laid the tray down the table, marveling at the caramelized, golden brown sheen coating the cookies. Beside her, Cook set a plate of cookies, along with a tea pot and a cup on a silver tray. Seemingly able to read her thoughts, the older woman held out the tray to her and said,
"What are you waiting for? I suppose that poor young man upstairs could use some snacks."

*****

At first the warm, soft bed felt like heaven and Matthew had thought he wouldn't want to get his back off the sheets ever again, but after a few hours, he eventually got tired of lying immobile with nothing to do. Noises from the streets below wafted through the partially opened windows, compelling him to get out of bed and have a look around.

With small, staggering steps, he shuffled to the windows and peered down to a lively street packed with fancy coaches and carts alike. The sidewalk was crowded with people headed to the tea houses and other eateries lining the district. The house seemed to be located in the central town. It was surrounded by buildings as far as the eye could see.