I bought table linens, and then spent most of the afternoon buying food. I decided not to get overcomplicated. A good mushroom soup was not beyond my skills as a first course, and could be made on the Franklin stove without difficulty. A roasted chicken could be purchased ahead of time and served cold, dressed up a little bit. A salad was easy, and there was nothing in it that needed cooking. Bread, naturally. A Spanish Manchego to go with Madeira and fresh plums as a last course would round it out nicely. Not a formal meal, but then formality would be hard to manage with no cook and no servants.Trying to impress the peasant general with your housewifely skills? my Inner Moreau asked sarcastically. I wasn’t much interested in my Inner Moreau’s opinions anymore. I knew exactly what Moreau thought of Ney, and exactly what he would think of my dinner efforts.Ney was punctual, knocking on the door exactly at eight. Patting my hair into place, I went to open it.He was taller than I remembered, and fairer.
