The Cruel Count (Bantam Series No. 28) by Barbara Cartland Page B
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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brown spots on them.
“Those are Suillus Elegans,” the Count said, “and are used a great deal in Katona. In fact they are quite delicious if well cooked.”
“That is a challenge!” Vesta retorted and went back into the kitchen.
It was nearly an hour later before she appeared with a dish in her hands and two plates. She put them down on the table and ran back to the kitchen to fetch two forks.
“I have cleaned them,” she said reassuringly.
She divided the omelette with a spoon and put the larger piece on a plate for the Count
“Eat it quickly,” she said, “while it is hot.”
Her face was flushed from the fire and her fair hair was curling round her forehead. She looked young and very lovely. The Count regarded her for a long moment before he seated himself and put his fork into the omelette.
One mouthful told him that it was in fact delicious. Very light and golden brown on the outside, it contained the mushrooms sliced thin and cooked in goat’s milk before they had been folded into the eggs.
“I congratulate you!” the Count exclaimed. “I had no idea you were so talented.”
“Mama always said we must never ask a servant to do anything we could not do as well ourselves. And actually I enjoy cooking.”
“I cannot imagine the Chef in the Palace will welcome you into his kitchen,” the Count said.
“There may still be opportunities for me to show my skill,” Vesta answered.
She was thinking as she spoke of the riding expeditions which she had planned that she and the Prince would take together. Then she remembered with something like a little stab in her heart, that he would probably not wish to go with her.
She finished her portion of the omelette and taking the empty dish and her plate went back into the kitchen.
When she returned she carried another dish and two warm plates.
“More food?” the Count questioned in surprise.
He had found in a cupboard some bottles of the rough wine which was the habitual drink of the peasants of Katona. He had opened one and now he poured out a glass for Vesta and one for himself.
“I am afraid the menu is somewhat limited,” Vesta smiled, her dimples showing at either side of her mouth, “and I am not certain how your black bread will react to such an English dish as this, but you can try it for yourself.”
She put the dish down on the table. It smelt pleasantly of cheese and the Count helped himself.
Vesta had found in the dirty kitchen not only the black bread which she had expected, but a lump of goat’s cheese which the Inn-Keeper’s wife had obviously made some time ago.
It was very hard, but slicing it finely, adding a few onions which were growing outside and a little goat’s milk, she managed to produce a pale imitation of an English toasted cheese.
She looked at the Count anxiously as he tried the first mouthful.
“Very good!” he said. “I hope one day you will ask me to dinner—when you are doing the cooking!”
“I do not think goat’s cheese toasts very well,” Vesta said critically. “At the same time as I am hungry I must admit I am enjoying it.”
“And so am I,” the Count said in all sincerity, “and I congratulate you, Ma’am. Few women, let alone a Princess, could have produced such an excellent meal at such short notice and with so few ingredients.”
Vesta smiled at him and for the first time forgot her hatred.
“It is kind of you to be so complimentary,” she said. “I must say if we die of food poisoning it will not be my fault. I cannot bear to think what the average guest at this Inn has to put up with.”
“The people of Katona are very clean as a rule,” the Count answered, “but this is such an isolated place that they have few travellers and their usual customers only come in for a drink. In fact this woman’s husband earns most of his money in the woods and the Inn is only a side line.”
“I am sure not many people would wish to eat here,” Vesta said.
“Not unless you were
“Those are Suillus Elegans,” the Count said, “and are used a great deal in Katona. In fact they are quite delicious if well cooked.”
“That is a challenge!” Vesta retorted and went back into the kitchen.
It was nearly an hour later before she appeared with a dish in her hands and two plates. She put them down on the table and ran back to the kitchen to fetch two forks.
“I have cleaned them,” she said reassuringly.
She divided the omelette with a spoon and put the larger piece on a plate for the Count
“Eat it quickly,” she said, “while it is hot.”
Her face was flushed from the fire and her fair hair was curling round her forehead. She looked young and very lovely. The Count regarded her for a long moment before he seated himself and put his fork into the omelette.
One mouthful told him that it was in fact delicious. Very light and golden brown on the outside, it contained the mushrooms sliced thin and cooked in goat’s milk before they had been folded into the eggs.
“I congratulate you!” the Count exclaimed. “I had no idea you were so talented.”
“Mama always said we must never ask a servant to do anything we could not do as well ourselves. And actually I enjoy cooking.”
“I cannot imagine the Chef in the Palace will welcome you into his kitchen,” the Count said.
“There may still be opportunities for me to show my skill,” Vesta answered.
She was thinking as she spoke of the riding expeditions which she had planned that she and the Prince would take together. Then she remembered with something like a little stab in her heart, that he would probably not wish to go with her.
She finished her portion of the omelette and taking the empty dish and her plate went back into the kitchen.
When she returned she carried another dish and two warm plates.
“More food?” the Count questioned in surprise.
He had found in a cupboard some bottles of the rough wine which was the habitual drink of the peasants of Katona. He had opened one and now he poured out a glass for Vesta and one for himself.
“I am afraid the menu is somewhat limited,” Vesta smiled, her dimples showing at either side of her mouth, “and I am not certain how your black bread will react to such an English dish as this, but you can try it for yourself.”
She put the dish down on the table. It smelt pleasantly of cheese and the Count helped himself.
Vesta had found in the dirty kitchen not only the black bread which she had expected, but a lump of goat’s cheese which the Inn-Keeper’s wife had obviously made some time ago.
It was very hard, but slicing it finely, adding a few onions which were growing outside and a little goat’s milk, she managed to produce a pale imitation of an English toasted cheese.
She looked at the Count anxiously as he tried the first mouthful.
“Very good!” he said. “I hope one day you will ask me to dinner—when you are doing the cooking!”
“I do not think goat’s cheese toasts very well,” Vesta said critically. “At the same time as I am hungry I must admit I am enjoying it.”
“And so am I,” the Count said in all sincerity, “and I congratulate you, Ma’am. Few women, let alone a Princess, could have produced such an excellent meal at such short notice and with so few ingredients.”
Vesta smiled at him and for the first time forgot her hatred.
“It is kind of you to be so complimentary,” she said. “I must say if we die of food poisoning it will not be my fault. I cannot bear to think what the average guest at this Inn has to put up with.”
“The people of Katona are very clean as a rule,” the Count answered, “but this is such an isolated place that they have few travellers and their usual customers only come in for a drink. In fact this woman’s husband earns most of his money in the woods and the Inn is only a side line.”
“I am sure not many people would wish to eat here,” Vesta said.
“Not unless you were
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