Giles was bustling around the Mansion House kitchen, flour on her apron and hands, while tantalizing smells rose from the covered platters she was handing to Abby Tarbox and Rose Chambers, who were serving midday dinner to customers in the dining room. “Joe Wood, whatever are you doing in my kitchen?” she asked, pushing me aside to reach for a plate of pastries. I hadn’t been hungry before, but looking at those sweets made me feel like Trusty, his mouth open and dripping, waiting for me to give him a stew bone. “Charlie’s not around,” she added. “I haven’t seen him since breakfast.” “I’m not looking for him,” I said. “Then get out of my way. I’ve a job to do,” she said. “It’s mealtime.” “Do you take a tea tray up to Nell Gramercy and the Allens?” I asked quickly, moving out of her way. “I fix one for them,” she said. “Rose is the one takes it up. Four-fifteen every afternoon, sharp. Why should that be a concern of yours?” “Curious.” She stopped a moment, and eyed me.
