Tangled In Time

A Keepers Deception

I woke to the feeling of Blake's fingertips lightly tracing circles along my lower back, his touch soothing and unhurried. The warmth of his hand lingered, grounding me in the soft haze of morning.

Rolling onto my back, I stretched lazily, my arms reaching over my head. As I shifted, Blake's fingers darted to my sides, the tickling light but relentless enough to make me squirm. A surprised laugh burst from me, and I swatted at his hands, though the grin on my face betrayed any real attempt to stop him.

"It's about time you woke up," he said, his voice warm with amusement. Before I could respond, he leaned down and kissed my cheek, the gesture tender despite the mischief glinting in his eyes.

"Why don't we go down to the kitchen and see what Cook has baked this morning?" he suggested, his tone lighter now. As he spoke, he lifted my hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of my neck.

The bustling kitchen greeted me with warmth and the aroma of baking, though the chatter of the maids quieted abruptly when Blake and I entered. The maids, their aprons dusted with flour and sleeves rolled up, froze momentarily, exchanging quick glances. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and uncertainty as they straightened their postures.

Blake's easy smile and confident demeanour seemed to break the tension. He stepped forward casually, addressing the group. "Do you know where Cooke is?" he asked, his voice warm and friendly. I noticed one of the maids, a mousy-looking girl, stammer slightly before answering.

"She went to get some parsnips from the gardener," she said, her northern accent lending a charm to her words.

Blake nodded in understanding, his smile never faltering. "Thank you," he said, his gaze shifting to the large pot bubbling on the hob. "Do you know what's for dinner?" he added, reaching toward the lid with a curious hand.

"Don't you even think about it!" a familiar voice rang out. Cooke limped down the steps that led from the main house into the kitchen, two parsnips in hand, shaking them at Blake as she descended.

The young maids' eyes widened, likely at the way Cooke addressed Blake. "You're not too old for a clip round the ear, young man!" she added as she reached the bottom of the stairs. I couldn't hold back a chuckle as I watched Blake take the reprimand with good humour. Cooke's gaze flicked toward me briefly, her lips twitching into a knowing smile before she turned her attention back to Blake.

Blake raised his hands in surrender, stepping back from the pot with a grin.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" Cooke demanded, dropping the parsnips onto the wooden table before moving to the pot. She lifted the lid with practiced ease and retrieved a large wooden spoon from a nearby drawer, stirring the contents. The enticing aroma of stew filled the air, teasing my senses and eliciting a soft growl from my stomach.

"I thought, maybe we could get some lunch. What's in the pot?" Blake asked, his smile widening, the mischievous glint in his eye hard to miss.

"Beef stew," Cooke replied briskly, rolling her eyes at him. "Still needs the parsnips and the boiled dumplings... but if you helped"—her lips curled into a devilish smile—"maybe I could get it done faster?"

A faint gasp escaped the two younger maids, who were now pretending to stack plates while clearly eavesdropping. Blake's grin only grew. "Consider it done," he said, crossing the room to plant a kiss on Cooke's cheek. The gesture earned him a playful swat from her as the maids hurried out with the plates, leaving only the three of us in the kitchen.

"What would you like me to help with?" I asked, stepping toward the wooden table.

"Do you know how to make boiled dumplings?" Cooke asked, reaching into an overhead cupboard to pull down a sack of flour and a large ceramic bowl.

"I do! My dad taught me," I replied instinctively, the words escaping before I could stop them. Instantly, I cursed myself for the slip-up. Cooke's brow furrowed, her gaze sharpening as she looked at me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Blake tense, his back turned toward her.

For a moment, the silence felt heavy. Then, as though deciding to let it pass, Cooke's expression softened. She slid the bowl and flour toward me with a subtle nod, her gaze lingering a fraction longer before she turned back to the stew.

"You two didn't have breakfast?" Cooke asked after a moment, glancing at me sideways. Her tone was casual, but I could swear her lips twitched with amusement.

As I began making the dumplings, I felt the weight of Cooke's gaze on me, her scrutiny almost palpable. As I mixed the flour and water, shaping the dough into small balls, I couldn't help but steal glances at Blake and Cooke, whilst I listened to their bickering which was light and fun. She clearly enjoyed teasing him as much as he did her. The kitchen was filled with the comforting sounds of sizzling stew, and I couldn't wait for everything to be ready so that we could eat.

"These are ready now" I said to Cooke.

"Drop in then, dear" she said after she herself had just scooped in the chopped parsnips.

I walked to the stove and dropped the dumplings into the pot, Cooke giving me an approving nod as she reached for a large bread knife and started slicing the fresh load she had pulled from the stove earlier.

"Would you mind if we ate here?" I asked tentatively, unsure of how Cooke would react. Blake's smile gave me a boost of confidence, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.

"Of course," Cooke replied without hesitation, wiping her hands on her apron before bustling about, gathering bowls and utensils. Blake looked at me with a grateful smile, and then turned back to Cooke.

"And surely you will join us," he said, his tone inviting.

Cooke paused for a moment, as if considering the invitation, before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I could be persuaded," she said with a playful glint in her eye.

Blake and I set the table and gathered around, whilst Cooke placed hot bowls in front of us. The last of the sunlight now faded from the sky, Cooke lit a candle the warm glow casting a soft light over the room. The kitchen felt cozy and inviting, and I couldn't imagine a better place I would want to be.

Conversation flowed easily between us, laughter filling the air. The stew was rich in flavour, and I savoured every bite, feeling a warmth spreading through me with each spoonful.

"Felicity?" Cooke's mischievous gaze met mine, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "You've got a little bit of flour on your cheek."

"Oh," I chuckled, reaching up to wipe it away with the back of my hand.

Cooke's eyes twinkled with amusement as she continued, her gaze shifting to Blake. "It reminds me of a time—"

"Oh no you don't," Blake interjected with a laugh, attempting to derail Cooke's storytelling.

But Cooke was undeterred, tossing her napkin in his direction. "It reminds me of a time when Blake couldn't have been more than five years old. I found him just there on the floor, bawling his eyes out and covered in flour, and I mean covered." She dissolved into laughter, a wheeze escaping her as she struggled to catch her breath. "All you could see were his eyes... I don't even know how he would have done it."

The image of a young Blake, flour-covered and crying, was too amusing to resist, and soon, we were all laughing together, the sound filling the kitchen like music. After the laughter faded, Cooke snatched her napkin back from Blake good naturedly and wiped her eyes.

"Well, I suppose I should start cleaning up" she said as she rose to her feet she couldn't help but give Blake a light whack with the napkin.

"Let me help you with that?" I said also rising from my feet.

"Oh no, you two have been great, but you should go now... enjoy the day " As Cooke said this, a few workers I'd not seen before had come to the back door.

"Thank you for lunch " I said to Cooke, feeling as though I wanted to give her a hug, but I didn't.

"Make sure you come back down here and visit me with this one." Blake squeezed her shoulder.