These days |Benedict Bridgerton|

A baking relief ~ Chapter 35

London, England 1815

Eden stood alone in the expansive kitchen of the manor house, the silence broken only by the occasional crackle from the hearth and the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. The early afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the stone floor and illuminating the floating particles of flour that hung in the air. The room smelled of vanilla, lemon zest, and the faint smokiness of the wood-burning stove.

She was engrossed in her task, mixing batter for a series of cakes to be served at the upcoming harvest festival. The large oak table before her was a testament to her efforts: bowls of eggs, sugar, and butter, alongside a variety of cake tins and molds. Her lace-trimmed apron was dusted with flour, and her new garment something Gerard would not be too fond of, her fingers moved deftly, measuring and mixing with practiced ease.

As she poured the batter into a round tin, the kitchen door creaked open. Eden didn't look up, assuming it was Sarah. But when she heard the familiar sound of boots on the stone floor, she glanced up and saw her older brother, Gerard, standing in the doorway.

Gerard was tall and broad-shouldered, with a commanding presence that contrasted with Eden's more delicate frame. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and his sharp features softened slightly as he took in the scene before him. He wore a riding coat, which he shrugged off, draping it over a chair as he walked towards her.

"Eden," he greeted, his voice warm but tinged with surprise. "I didn't expect to find you here... alone." Eden smiled, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "I often find solace in the kitchen, brother especially when it's quiet." Gerard nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "I can't see why" he added staring around at the piled pots and messy table. "Cakes for... well just to eat" Eden replied, gesturing to the assortment of ingredients and partially completed confections. "Lemon, vanilla, and a spice cake. Would you like to help ?" Gerard raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the notion. "I'm not sure I'd be of much use. I'm more accustomed to managing estates than mixing batter." He spoked trying to get out of the kitchen. Eden chuckled. "Nonsense. Here, you can stir this." She quickly handed him a bowl of batter and a wooden spoon with more force than Gerard anticipated. He took the bowl, looking somewhat awkward but willing. As he began to stir, Eden continued her work, checking the consistency of the batter he was mixing. Despite his inexperience, he seemed to enjoy the task, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Do you remember when we used to sneak into the kitchen as children to steal biscuits?" Eden asked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. Gerard laughed, the sound rich and deep. "How could I forget ? and then mama would shout at us." Eden joined in his laughter, the memory brightening the room. "She never shouted at you though did she you were her angel sent from heaven. a blessing. "Eden turned grabbing the pots and placing them in the large bucket of water. "No she never did," Gerard agreed, his expression growing more serious. "Father did though he could not seem to get enough of shouting at me." Eden paused, her hands resting on the table. He hesitated, as he saw his sister face setting the bowl down. "But I guess he was right to do so the responsibilities i have now, the decisions i must. I get to see you here, and Clara in Florence it reminds me of the importance of these simple joys."

"Our parents would not have approved of us spending our time this way. Father always believed in maintaining appearances, and Mother... well, she had her own views on what was appropriate for a lady of your standing." Eden's hands stilled, the spoon she was holding hovering over the mixing bowl. She took a breath before replying, her voice steady but firm. "I'm aware of what Mother and Father believed. But they're not here anymore, Gerard." Gerard's jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of pain crossed his features. "Yes...they're not." Gerard sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You always were the sentimental one." "And you always were the practical one," Eden replied softly. "But perhaps we need a bit of both to make this work."