“In ten minutes Peg had returned with a bundle of stuff. She washed her mistress's rat-tails at the stand, and then tucked her back into freshly laundered sheets. Enticing pattern books and journals lay across the coverlet. To Peg's satisfaction,… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“She went alone to the vast room where the second-hand clothes were kept. Later, she thought it the happiest hour of her life. There were silks and brocades by the yard, and pile upon pile of hats, wigs, cloaks, and… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Look, I fetched some Fat Hen for you.' Jem offered me a bunch of wilting greens. I reached for the plants, rubbed the leaves… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Around me shone the kitchen I'd worked in each day: the copper pans hung neatly, the scratched wooden table and neat blue plates set… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“It was almost Christmas, and Renzo was preparing all the delicacies Florentines must eat at the festival: roast eels, goose, fancy cakes with marzipan… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Sal and Henry return with a gust of warm garden air and I settle down to create miniature roses from sugarpaste using tiny ivory… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“There was a new smell in the air at Lyons, of sun-baked southern stuffs, of strong red vinegar, and spikes of rosemary. It was… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Signor Renzo's lodge stood on a grassy knoll near the crest of the hill. It was a modest place, just a low stone hut,… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“The Cocoa-Nut Tree at Covent Garden? Why it's the finest confectioner in the capital and sells bonbons, macaroons, candied fruits, and ices,' I said… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“While Mr Loveday aired my lady's sheets, I set to scratching up a supper. With not even time to change from my own damp… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“On December the twenty-third, the park was hazy from clammy mists that muted and softened all color and distance. Michael had not set off… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Every cook knows it's a rare day when you have all the parts of the perfect dish. But that day back at Mawton I… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“I was thrown together with Florence, or 'Florawns' as she was called, a pert girl of nineteen who worked in our kitchen and was… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“I'd give me two eyes for a slice of apple pie." She was brain-cracked, but spoke for them all. Then Tabby Jones joined in,… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
