Much Ado About Lewrie by Dewey Lambdin

Author:Dewey Lambdin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

CHAPTER NINETEEN

After breakfast the next morning, Lewrie thought to write some letters to old naval friends, and his son Sewallis, who was not the most prolific letter writer; he hadn’t gotten one from him for months.

He also thought to use the table in the morning room, but Jessica reminded him that he had a perfectly serviceable study over the entry hall, where they had installed his desk, chart table, and all of his nautical books and maps. Why not use that?

“Good idea,” he agreed, and requested Deavers to brew up some of his cool tea, with lemon, sugar, and an admixture of ginger beer.

“And what are you up to?” he asked his wife, noting that she had donned a bonnet and her parasol.

“I thought that Lucy and I would walk the dogs in Green Park,” Jessica said, “Their time in the country with us has made the back garden too small for their ambitions, I fear. And bad on my flower beds. Too many squirrels to chase, too many holes dug.”

“You might take Dasher and Turnbow along, Jess,” he said.

“I can’t hear you,” she teased. “I don’t answer to Jess.”

“Dearest, darling Jessica, love of my life,” Lewrie said, taking her hands in his, “have a good time, and keep a firm hand on Bisquit’s leash.”

“Enjoy your letter writing, Alan, my love. Ta!” Jessica said as she pecked him on the cheek and almost danced down the stairs to gather up the dogs, calling for Dasher and Turnbow.

He went to his study, opened the one window facing the street, and sat down at his desk, drawing out fresh paper, and his steel-nib pen, just as Deavers came in with a pitcher and glass.

“Ah, thankee, Deavers,” Lewrie said with a brief smile.

“That Hazelwood, sir,” Deavers carped, setting the tray down on a side table, “Soon as I got out the tea leaves, he’s fussing over me, telling me how to brew it proper, and when I put in the lemon juice and the sugar in the pitcher, not on side plates, he said I was doing it all wrong. Wouldn’t hear that it’s the way you prefer it, and when I poured in the ginger beer, I thought he was going to have a fit!”

“Damn the man,” Lewrie spat. “A damned good cook, but a pain in the arse. Does he still ban Yeovill from the kitchens?”

“Most of the time, sir,” Deavers explained, “but for when a pot needs scrubbing, a platter needs fetching, or something menial. This goes on much longer, and we might lose Yeovill. He’s been talking of hiring on at one of the gentlemen’s clubs, or a restaurant.”

“God, I’d hate t’lose him, and his talent with food,” Lewrie exclaimed. “He’s a wizard, he is. I may have t’have a stern word with Hazelwood. If they can’t get along, I’ll sack him and put Yeovill in his place.” Are you lads gettin’ enough at your meals? Same food as the dinin’ room gets?”

“Oh, yessir,” Deavers assured him, “more than enough, though it may not be as fancy.

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