Beauty or Brains Read online

  “I will go and get the first course ready,” Iona said.

  She hurried back to the kitchen with Mrs. Newman following her.

  By the time she had dished up the fish and the hot plate that went with it, Newman had arrived with a tray.

  Iona then started working on the second course.

  No one questioned whether she was a good cook, but she herself knew that she was exceptional in that she had learnt to cook from one of the most brilliant chefs her father had ever employed.

  He was a Frenchman who had come to England out of curiosity and her father persuaded him to spend a month or two at The Hall.

  She had been twelve at the time and, because she was a very bright and intelligent young girl, the chef had elected to teach her to cook.

  As she found cooking so fascinating, he made his most unusual dishes for her and showed her how she could make them herself.

  She used to learn a new dish every day to surprise her father with at dinner and, when they had friends, she would help the chef and his two scullions.

  The dishes were, she remembered, at that time, the talk of all their County friends and people used to beg to be invited to the house to try the Master chef’s special dishes.

  When the meal was over, her father would then call her and the chef into the dining room to receive the many compliments they so rightly deserved.

  Because she had been taught properly, Iona loved cooking and yet she seldom had the chance to show off her culinary talent.

  She found that the English cooks they had at The Hall resented any interference at all in the kitchen and they would be furious if they thought the dish she had made was more applauded than the one they had produced.

  So she had not cooked for a long time, but she had not forgotten all the skills the French chef had taught her.

  Although she was short of spices, she still managed to make not only her dish of fish outstanding but also the two courses that followed it.

  She felt that when she had finished that her French teacher would have been immensely proud of her.

  She was just putting what was left of each dish on the kitchen table when Newman came in to say,

  “His Lordship wants to thank you for the excellent meal you cooked for him, miss, and to apologise for being so disagreeable to you after luncheon.”

  The way he spoke made Iona realise without being told, that the Earl was not aware that his cook had left.

  “Does he really want to see me?” she asked.

  “He does, miss, and I thinks that you deserve every word of praise he has to give you,” Newman replied. “At the same time I didn’t tell him that Mrs. Jones had left.”

  Iona laughed.

  “Save my dinner for me,” she said, “in case I am thrown out as a usurper!”

  “I don’t thinks that’s likely, but just to make sure we won’t go with you. I want a taste of that fish and the next dish before it happens!”

  Newman was, of course, only joking.

  Iona took off her apron and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

  Holding her head high, she walked from the kitchen and along the passage towards the dining room.

  She told herself that she was not afraid of anyone least of all a man she had just cooked an excellent dinner for.

  Even so, as he was so extraordinary and apparently terrified everyone, she only hoped she would not be thrown out of the house at least until she had spent a night in one of the State bedrooms.

  So she opened the door into the dining room with some trepidation.

  She saw that the Earl was sitting, as she expected, at the end of the table. He was leaning back comfortably in his high chair with a glass of port in his hand.

  As she came in from the pantry door, his Lordship had his back to her.

  When she had entered the room, he said,

  “I would like to thank you, Mrs. Jones, for the most delicious meal I have ever had. I cannot understand why you hid your talents so cleverly that I had no idea that you could cook like that.”

  He sighed before he went on,

  “I can only apologise for what I said to you after luncheon and I wish that you had told me sooner what a brilliant cook you are.”

  Iona stood inside the door while he was speaking and now she came forward.

  She was aware as she stepped into the candlelight that the Earl was looking at her in great surprise.

  And she too found him completely different from the man she had anticipated.

  She had somehow thought of him, because of what she had been told, as being rather coarse and heavy and a man of about forty or fifty.

  To her complete amazement, sitting at the top of the table there was a young man not, she thought, much older than twenty-six or twenty-seven.

  And he was exceedingly handsome.

  He had broad shoulders and she was quite certain that, when he stood up, he would be at least six feet tall.

  Then, as she looked at him, he was still staring at her in astonishment.

  Finally he blurted out,

  “But you are not Mrs. Jones!”

  “I am now taking her place, my Lord,” Iona replied, “because she walked out. Mr. Hopkins, the shopkeeper, was in despair as to who he could send to take her place.”

  She gave a slight smile as she continued,

  “So to help him I came here. Also to be honest, I wanted to find somewhere quiet to stay the night.”

  “And you can cook like this?” the Earl questioned. “I beg of you to not only stay one night, but as many nights as you can possibly spare.”

  Iona smiled.

  “That is most kind of you, my Lord, but I don’t want to be an encumbrance in any way.”

  “An encumbrance!” the Earl exclaimed, his voice rising. “Who would not go down on their knees and thank the Gods for unexpectedly finding in their house someone who could cook like the angels themselves?”

  “Thank you, my Lord, but I cannot imagine that we should be hungry when we reach Heaven.”

  “Perhaps hunger is one of the punishments of Hell,” the Earl replied. “But I am forgetting my manners.”

  He smiled at her before he offered,

  “Please sit down and tell me why I should be so privileged by unexpectedly finding a cook in my house, who could only have learnt her skill from a French chef of the highest quality.”

  As the Earl half-rose to his feet, she sat down in the chair nearest to him at the table.

  “You are quite right, my Lord. I learnt my talent, if that is how I should refer to it, from a famous Frenchman whose cookery books, I believe, are still selling well in this country as well as in France.”

  “Then I will certainly try to buy one when I go to London. I expect you have been told that the reason I cannot travel and so am imprisoned here is for the boring excuse – that of having no money to pay my way.”

  Iona did not speak and he went on,

  “I can understand now why Mrs. Jones left me, but I am extremely surprised, in fact, astonished, at being so privileged that anyone so talented should take her place.”

  “As I have told you, my Lord, I wanted somewhere safe to stay for tonight and my ponies which brought me here are tired and hungry.”

  “I will thank them tomorrow,” the Earl said, “for bringing you here. I am quite sure they are as outstanding as your food.”

  “I hope you will think so,” Iona answered.

  “Now tell me your name,” the Earl demanded.

  Just for a moment Iona had forgotten what name she had chosen and then after a little pause she said,

  “My name is Ida Lang and, as you can imagine, I am interested in the magnificence of your house, although I have seen so little of it so far.”

  “But you have heard the strange unpleasant stories that emerge from it?”

  He spoke bitterly and Iona felt suddenly very sorry for him.

  After all, he was young, very young in fact to have inherited an ancient title and
such a glorious house and estate only to find that he had no money to keep it going.

  She had thought when listening to all that was said about him that perhaps, after all, he was a stupid elder son who had no idea of how to manage his house and estate.

  He was still trying to find the money that must be somewhere where his uncle had hidden it.

  She was thinking about him and then she was aware that he was thinking about her.

  “How can it be possible,” he asked, “that anyone as young and as beautiful as you, should be out alone without anyone to protect you from the dangers of the open road.”

  “It is because I am well aware of the dangers,” Iona answered after a moment’s pause. “But I was very grateful to Mr. Hopkins for taking me here.”

  “How did you know that the position of cook was vacant?” the Earl asked.

  Iona gave a little chuckle.

  “I was told all about it, my Lord, very loudly and furiously by the cook whose food you apparently did not appreciate at luncheon.”

  The Earl burst out laughing.

  “So that,” he said, “is how you managed to turn up so unexpectedly. When she told me that she was leaving, I believed her. It was only a little later when I was no longer so angry and rather ashamed of myself that I wondered if I would have to go to bed hungry.”

  He made a gesture with his hands and added,

  “Or else have something cold and unappetising that had been left over from previous meals.”

  Iona laughed.

  “That sounds such a sad story. But, of course, you should not have upset the poor woman in the way you did.”

  “It was the most fortunate thing I have ever done! Here you are and I have just enjoyed a meal more than I have ever enjoyed one before and I recognised the Parisian touch at every scintillating mouthful.”

  Then the Earl said in a very different tone,

  “I only hope you are staying. But I will be honest and tell you, as I am sure you have been told already, that I cannot pay you for working for me.”

  “That I understand, my Lord. I would be glad to stay for reasons I don’t wish to discuss at present, while I make up my mind where I will go next.”

  The Earl stared at her and then he said,

  “I have the strangest feeling, although I may well be wrong, that you are running away. Can that be true?”

  “As it happens, it is,” Iona replied. “But I have no wish to talk about it, my Lord.”

  She smiled at him.

  “I will be very happy, if it suits you for me to stay or rather hide for a while in your house. I will be delighted to pay for the accommodation by cooking for you, as you may say, with a professional touch.”

  “That is the best contract I have ever been offered,” the Earl answered jovially.

  He held out his hand and Iona put her hand in his.

  As his fingers closed over hers, she had the strange feeling that she was taking a step into the unknown without having the slightest idea of where it might lead her.

  Then, as the Earl took his hand away, he said,

  “Forgive me for not suggesting it before, but will you join me in a glass of port or maybe you would prefer the champagne I had earlier with my meal, which naturally was exactly right with its French origin.”

  “I would love a little drop of champagne to drink your health with, my Lord, and to wish you luck.”

  “Perhaps that is what you have brought me. I have been in utter and total despair. Yet now, after the excellent dinner I have just enjoyed, I feel different. It must be you who is bringing me what I have been seeking.”

  “You mean your hidden treasure?” Iona asked. “I have, of course, heard the story from Mr. Hopkins that you are looking everywhere on your estate to find the fortune your predecessor has hidden from you.”

  The Earl drew in his breath and replied intensely,

  “How could any man be so cruel and so insane as to hide away the very lifeblood of this house and estate?”

  Iona did not answer and he went on,

  “At the moment I have no money of my own and wherever I dig I find nothing – nothing at all. Yet there is supposed to be thousands and thousands of pounds hidden somewhere by my crazy uncle, who should have been put in a lunatic asylum.”

  “Was he frightened of thieves or people preying on him?” Iona asked curiously.

  “I have no idea,” the Earl replied. “Actually I only remember seeing him once or twice in my life. Although I believe my father saw him frequently in London.”

  “Why do you think he hid all the money in the first place?” Iona asked the Earl.

  “I have asked myself that question over and over again – ”

  He hesitated as if feeling for words, then went on,

  “It was only when his uncle died that he came into the title and, of course, an enormous fortune which should, if there had been any justice in the family, have supported him earlier.”

  “You seem to be a very strange family, my Lord, but then you must find, sooner or later, the fortune which is hidden somewhere in this house or in the grounds.”

  “It is easy to say that,” the Earl retorted, “but very difficult to do more than I have done already.”

  His voice sharpened as he added,

  “It just seems incredible that any man could have hidden so completely the large amount of money that my uncle drew from the bank on the first day of every month.

  “Then he took it all away to hide it from perhaps thieves and the one person it would come to automatically on his death, which was – me.”

  He ended with such bitterness in his voice that Iona realised how furious it had made him to even think of what he was being deprived of, which was rightfully his.

  But he was being, she felt, somewhat over-dramatic about it.

  “Are you quite certain, my Lord,” she asked, “that your uncle did not confide in anyone?”

  “I have thought of that too,” the Earl answered. “I have been through his diary with the greatest care. From the time he inherited to the time he died practically no one stayed in this house.”

  “People must have come to see him.”

  “They called on him because they thought it was polite, but he seldom, if ever, offered them his hospitality.”

  “It is exactly like a Fairy story,” Iona said. “So you must believe it will eventually have a happy ending.”

  “How can I believe that,” the Earl asked harshly, “when I have already searched high and low in this house and in the grounds for all that my uncle has hidden?”

  “You cannot have dug everywhere. Quite frankly, if he was such a miser, my Lord, I don’t think he would have hidden it anywhere but in the house itself.”

  The Earl looked at her.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked almost rudely.

  “I don’t know,” Iona murmured. “But I feel certain I am right when I say that as a miser he would have wanted to protect what he valued so highly. One does not feel that there is protection in the open air or even in the sunshine.”

  “I see your point!” he exclaimed. “Perhaps you are right and I have been spending a great deal of time outside when I should have been inside.

  “But I can assure you that I have tapped the walls, I have looked under the floorboards and even ransacked the Chapel without finding so much as a penny piece.”

  “All the same, I feel sure that the money must be somewhere in the house,” Iona persisted.

  The Earl threw out his arms.

  “Then find it! Perhaps you are lucky and perhaps you have been sent from Heaven like an angel to save me.”

  Iona wanted to laugh.

  But he spoke so seriously that she knew it meant so much to him, so she prevented herself from doing so.

  “I will try,” she promised. “In the meantime I will cook your meals that will make you feel strong enough to climb to the very top of the highest tower or down into the depths of the cellar.”

&
nbsp; The Earl chuckled and replied,

  “Which I am thankful to say is not empty. I was reckoning the other day that it might just last my lifetime and then it will be gone too.”

  “Nonsense!” Iona exclaimed. “Of course you are going to find the hidden treasure. I think I have stepped into a Fairy story and Fairy stories always end happily.”

  She smiled at him as she continued,

  “So make up your mind, my Lord, once and for all, that the great fortune that you are looking for is here in the house and you must search until you find it.”

  “And you will help me?” the Earl asked.

  “As much as I can, but do remember that cooking takes time and thought and I will need both of these if I am to stay here as your cook.”

  “Not as my cook,” the Earl replied. “But as the most honoured guest who has ever crossed the threshold. You bring me the best dinner I have had for years and now fresh hope when earlier today I admit that I was almost mad with despair.”

  He put out his hand.

  “Will you help me now that you have descended on me like an angel from the sky when I called for help?” the Earl asked. “I have come to the conclusion that rather than fail I would rather die.”

  “You must not say such things,” Iona said sharply. “You are young. You have to live and there are a great number of people on your estate and in the village who look to you for guidance and help.”

  She gestured with her hand as she went on,

  “They all, I believe, pray that you will win and they are sure that they will then benefit if you do.”

  She felt the Earl’s fingers tighten as she added,

  “I will help you as best I can and sometimes I feel what the Scots call ‘fey’ so I just know that you will be successful.”

  “Now I am quite sure you are an angel,” he said.

  Then bending forward he kissed her hand.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Iona awoke it was very early and the sun was streaming into the bedroom through the gap at the sides of the curtains.

  She was in the State room and she had fallen asleep as soon as Mrs. Newman had unpacked her cases.

  She had hung her clothes in the large wardrobe at one end of the room and had also placed her hairbrush and everything she required on the dressing table.