Chapter 102 – Ashborne’s Random Thoughts
To ensure Mr. Rich Sponsor would not have a single spare second to even contemplate challenging another national regulation that went against the society grain, Jade immediately began rattling off a tedious laundry list of kitchen equipment and specialised ingredients – most of which she was not even certain existed in this era.
“I need a mechanical whisk,” Jade said, turning to the blackboard to quickly sketch a handheld machine she vaguely remembered from a cooking video or her food history textbook. “So here’s the driving wheel, here’s the gear, here’s the handle, and here’s the whisk. A single whisk is fine, but I guess double whisks could do a better job? Anyway, you crank the handle, it turns the gear, and the gear spins the whisk.”
Watching Ashborne hang on her every word, his eyes gleaming with excitement, she quietly released a sigh of relief and pressed on with her increasingly absurd demands. “I want it to be rust-free, but absolutely not copper. I think copper doesn’t do good with acids or something like that…? And I cannot be sure if I won’t need to whip something sour in the future, so no copper. If there’s no way you can get me the entire thing out of rust-free material, then make the whisks out of bamboo and the rest out of iron, I’m fine with that.”
“Bamboo?” Ashborne repeated, a curious expression crossing his face.
This was not a plant a commoner should know. It existed almost exclusively within the specialised greenhouses of wealthy horticulturists who were obsessed with collecting exotic specimens from across the globe. Most of those who had never seen the living plant could never connect the bizarre, towering plant with the delicate fans and ornate decorative lacquer screens imported from the Far East.
Ashborne happened to know of it because his close friend, Lord Davies Halesworth, was precisely the sort of nobleman who favoured overseas expeditions, driven by the era’s fashionable longing for imperial adventure. While Ashborne’s own greenhouses were mostly utilitarian – meant for cultivating out-of-season crops for the dinner table – Lord Davies planted all manner of chaotic flora in his massive conservatories, a style Ashborne personally considered rather messy. Through Lord Davies, Ashborne knew that bamboo was a widely utilised, highly versatile material in far eastern countries.
How did Jade know about it?
And Jade? Jade was completely oblivious to the massive social nuance of dropping such esoteric botanical knowledge. All she knew was: this plant is definitely not widely known here yet, it probably needs to be imported from foreign countries, and it’s gonna be very expensive and extremely tedious to source. In other words, it was perfect to keep Mr. Rich Sponsor occupied.
“Yes, bamboo,” Jade continued, scribbling frantically on the blackboard. “Have it imported from somewhere. I need it to bake the best cake for you, you know? Also, make me bench scrapers and spatulas using bamboo, I’ll need a few sets of multiple sizes.”
By this point, Jade sounded exactly like one of those spoiled, demanding tsundere ojou-samas from a light novel, tossing out peremptory demands and expecting them to be fulfilled by hook or by crook.
“I’ll need a thick marble tabletop to keep the pastry work surface chilled, lessening the possibility of butter melting in a hot kitchen.”
“There must be a deep well directly beside my kitchen. I need it to act as my cellar fridge.”
“I want steamer baskets to steam desserts… No, I’m not dumping the food into water, that’s just boiling, I mean steam, get it? I’m using the hot, scorching vapour to cook… You know what? Never mind, just get me bamboo and have someone mimic this sketch. You’ll understand the taste of the desserts once I make it with steam.”
“A thermometer! How could I almost forget that! I need a thermometer that can accurately read temperatures up to 250°C. And make sure the glass won’t shatter easily. I don’t want it breaking into a thousand pieces and letting liquid mercury run freely across my kitchen – that stuff is toxic!”
“I want mung beans, red beans, lotus seeds, sesames, peanuts – all sorts of grains, the more diverse the better! Oh, and remember to get soybeans, I’ll make you both sweet and savoury tofu with them.”
“Try to source soy sauce when you find the soybeans. Those two are probably located in the same regions.”
“I want coconut milk, cumin, ginger, garlic, chilies, tomatoes, turmeric, cinnamon, star anise… Yes, I’ll make you curry if you get me those. Just a basic one, because I don’t remember the exact recipe needed for the garam masala.”
“How could I forget sticky rice… Yes, get me sticky rice, and I’ll make you sweet soup and treats!”
“Piping tips and sturdy piping bags are a must. And I need a cake turntable… Wait, lemme sketch it out for ya.”
“Oven and stoves, mixing bowls of various sizes, stone grinders, and an icebox or something to keep the pastries chilled so the cake stays fresh while delivering to you.”
“And food colouring! Safe, non-toxic food colouring! I know I could extra those from flowers and fruits, but I would highly prefer something shelf-stable and easier to manage. Aren’t you working with a chemist for drug safety? Get him to invent some food-safe colourings, then!”
“...”
Jade wasn’t entirely sure how long she had been babbling. All she knew was that her throat felt like sandpaper after that massive info dump, prompting her to chuck the remaining contents of the entire teapot of herbal tea.
She released a long exhale before turning back to face Ashborne. He was still staring at her, his eyes absolutely beaming… Honestly, can’t really blame her for mistaking him for an innocent, doe-eyed babe in the woods when they first met, right? Who on earth would expect a supposedly calculating, composed nobleman who typically with their nose pointed at the sky to possess such round, cute puppy eyes anyway?!
“So, there are still about eight weeks left before I officially leave the domus,” Jade said, offering a casual shrug. “Do you think you can get all those equipment and ingredients sourced within that timeframe?”
“Worry not regarding the tools,” Ashborne gave a light cough before continuing, “But Jade, are you certain you want to become my pastry cook? We could still figure out a way to secure a shop for you, legally speaking.”
Jade shook her head firmly. “That would require a tremendous amount of effort to navigate all those hurdles and legal procedures, right? It would trouble you too much, and I don’t like the feeling of burdening you with these unnecessary matters.”
“I do not consider it a burden in the slightest.”
“I know, you are a very good friend,” Jade smiled softly, “And I don’t wanna be a bad friend who takes advantage of that, you get me? Becoming your pastry cook is more than acceptable given my current situation.”
“But–”
“One more word out of you,” Jade tapped her knuckles sharply against the table, glaring at him, “and I’m walking out that door to accept the offer from Lady Glorissa instead.”
Ashborne instantly held his tongue and leaned back in his seat, his lips curling into a delighted, boyish snigger. “Very well. I shall fully respect your decision. And trust me, Jade – that private kitchen will be ready the moment you step foot onto my estate.”
And his Lordship was still utterly unable to wipe the smug, sweeping smile off his face even after the meeting was dismissed and he finally boarded his carriage. Truthfully, he had not felt his spirits lifted this high in a very long time.
Finally. After all these months, Miss Jade has finally agreed to become my consultan–ahem, my personal pastry cook!
However, a rigid, practical voice from across the carriage compartment put a sudden, grinding halt to his inner celebration.
“My Lord,” Mr. Trent said.
The secretary had spent the last hour scribbling frantically in his shorthand notebook, trying to log every single bizarre machine Miss Jade had sketched and every esoteric ingredient she had demanded in her attempt to bury his employer in multiple tasks. If things went as Mr. Trent expected, half of this impossible logistics nightmare was about to be dumped directly onto his desk – and then, his employer would likely find a way to sneak off and meddle in the political affairs Miss Jade had just warned him to avoid.
Mr. Trent looked at his employer. In his usual, unbothered tone, he said, “Though it may not be my place to proffer counsel, as your Lordship’s loyal servant, I feel bound by duty to remind you of certain matters.”
The carriage rattled smoothly to the rhythmic cadence of galloping hooves. And slowly, the gleeful, triumphant smile began to fade from Ashborne’s face.
“Speak,” the nobleman said. His eyes were noticeably cooler than before.
“I appreciate the rare friendship your Lordship shares with Miss Jade,” Mr. Trent said, lowering his gaze respectfully. “I can clearly see that both of you deeply value one another’s thoughts and opinions, providing mutual assistance whenever the need arises.”
The nobleman lightly tapped his finger against the pommel of his walking stick.
“However, addressing one another by names directly would appear too intimate to most eyes,” Mr. Trent continued. “A single oversight, and the rumours would spread unchecked.”
“I trust that you would never become the source of such an oversight, Trent.” the nobleman replied lightly.
“I would not, my Lord,” Mr. Trent nodded. “Yet accidents are rarely remediated. If they were, the daily papers would not be so thoroughly littered with scandals and ruined reputations. A rumour of this nature would do little harm to your Lordship, but I am afraid the consequences would be entirely otherwise for Miss Jade.”
Lord Ashborne remained silent.
Mr. Trent emphasised his point once more. “A young woman with the rare ability to conjure a fortune within a single season. It would be a profound shame if Miss Jade were forced to retreat into the Sister’s House for the rest of her days to escape a tarnished name.”
Ashborne released a frustrated sigh.
He knew. Of course he knew the weight of every single syllable his secretary had just uttered.
But the sheer sensation of calling Miss Jade solely by her name felt… tempting. A temptation he knew he should have restrained, yet he had willfully let loose.
And in truth, if Miss Jade possessed a legitimate surname instead of a fabricated one she had adapted from the river she had been pulled from, he would gladly address her by it – just as she addressed him by his surname… but the reality was she possessed no lineage here, and the only true name he could use for her, was “Jade”.
He glanced outside the window, watching the familiar fields and hedgerows of his estate dashing backward as the carriage marched onward.
Out of nowhere, a stray, dangerous thought emerged: What if Jade called me simply by “Theodore”?
Ashborne blinked. His ears suddenly flushed with a localised heat… from the rushing pulse at the mere mental image.
“Count me out. I don’t want to be caged or chained by a thousand unspoken rules.”
He blinked again, recollecting a fragment of her earlier babbling. A sudden, unexpected hint of disappointment oozed into his chest, knowing that she would likely never call him by his first name.
“I will ensure no such accident occurs,” Lord Ashborne commanded. “And you will comply with this directive as well.”
Mr. Trent raised a brow. Deeming that he had performed his duty and preferring not to go against his irritated employer, he offered a compliant nod. “Very well, my Lord. I shall instruct Mr. Drogo to select an appropriate room in close proximity to your private chambers – one with minimal servant traffic – to be repurposed into a kitchen suiting Miss Jade’s requirements.”
Lord Ashborne did not reply, but across the carriage seat, Mr. Trent could sense that his employer was in a better mood now.