It had been such a relief for Mary when her ladies maid, Anna, followed her to Crawley house and today she was even more grateful than usual. She had spied her appearance in the mirror in the hallway and the sight had been quite horrific; flour covering her dress, somehow finding its way under the apron she'd worn, sticky brown dough smeared across her face and her hair! That had quite turned Mary's face as white as the mess covering her; so thick with flour it had given her a startling premonition of old age and the strands, so carefully tied into a bun this morning, were flying every which direction they could find. When she'd reached up a hand to try and tame it, the white had merely smeared further and the stickiness had caused the strands to protrude even more prominently. Thank goodness Matthew had been away at work and now, as she looked in the mirror in her room, her hair was as perfectly coiffed as usual, her face clean and bright and her new embroidered sapphire blue dress gleamed in the lamp light.
"Thank you, Anna." Mary smiled at her maid as she finished adjusting her earrings, before standing up to head down to the kitchen. A wave of guilt ran through her as she approached, for she had left it in quite a state, but as she walked nearer, her nose crinkled up in alarm. Normally the smells emanating from the kitchen, something she was still not accustomed to as the kitchen had been far away in the Abbey, were mouth wateringly tasty, but today… She coughed slightly as the smell tickled her throat and reminded her somewhat of a candle burning too quickly…
"Mrs Bird?" She called, hurrying her footsteps towards the kitchen and she couldn't hide her gasp as she stepped in. The fact that every surface was literally sparkling clean now went unnoticed by her as the thick cloud of smoke billowing in the corner of the room that held the oven caught her attention. She rushed towards it, grabbing a tea towel and pulling open the oven door. The wave of choking, hot smoke that poured out forced her to step back, sweeping her hands in front of her as she began coughing, the heat causing tears to prickle in her eyes.
"M'Lady! Are you alright?" Mrs Bird asked anxiously, suddenly appearing through the smoke at Mary's side. Mary nodded as stepped back towards the oven, still waving her arms to clear the smoke. Using the tea towel, the two women carefully eased the tin out and, as they laid it down, their faces appeared above it anxiously.
Neither spoke for a moment, words failing them as they looked upon the thing in the tin. As the smoke dispersed, they could see a thick, black crust covering the cake, the surface cracked and emitting a distinct burnt odour. That was not the worst of it though, for in the middle was a large crater, the centre sinking in almost to the base of the tin.
Mary felt her heart sinking lower than the crater cake, her eyes starting to prickle with tears from more than just the smoke. She had spent near enough all afternoon preparing the cake, her face breaking into a smile whenever she thought about the look of delight on Matthew's face as she presented him with the lovingly made creation. He would smile and his eyes would shine as he thanked her by placing a warm kiss upon her cheek, before looking at her present with pride and delight, eagerly wanting to tuck into the mouth watering desert. But that image shattered in her mind as she continued to look in horror at the debacle before her. How could she present him with this cake now, on their first anniversary! And what could she give him instead? For this was to be her present to him!
"I'm so very sorry, m'Lady. I checked the cake before I went out, it was nowhere near done! I've baked so many times, m'Lady, was certain this wouldn't be ready for a good while."
The anxious, hurried apology from her cook helped clear Mary's melancholy thoughts and she forced her face into a smile. "It's not your fault, Mrs Bird. These things happen I suppose." Her smile faltered a moment, "I don't think we have time to try again though."
Mrs Bird looked anxiously at her mistress, seeing the disappointment in her eyes though she tried to hide it. She felt guilt weigh upon her, for she knew how happy Lady Mary had been at the thought of baking a cake for Mr Crawley. The burnt offering before them was far from what the young lady had in mind, though Mrs Bird thought it better not to add that the cake, to burn so quick and sink so deeply, would not have been very edible anyway. The lady was right though, there was no time to bake another and she'd decided against making a back up for fear of offending the lady. "There's still a chance it can be saved, m'Lady."
The radiant smile that suddenly rushed over her mistress' face at her words determined Mrs Bird's resolve. The cake may not be edible, but it could at least be made presentable, though they did not have much time. She quickly grabbed a knife and began easing the cake out of the tin, pleased that it did at least come out whole, before she began removing the worst of the blackened crust. With a brief look around her now immaculately clean kitchen, and audible sigh, Mrs Bird issued a few instructions to Lady Mary and tried to hope that this time her kitchen would not resemble a war zone.
When the last dash of icing had been squeezed onto the cake in a finishing twirl and the strawberries dotted across the thick layer of whipped cream filling the crater, the front door was heard opening. Mr Molesley's voice soon followed, ringing through the corridors as he welcomed his master home. Mary's smile brightened as she heard her husband's laughter echoing around the walls and she looked down in delight at the masterpiece below her. The cake now looked positively splendid, covered in fancy icing, cream and strawberries, all traces of blackness hidden or cut away and the rich scent of fruit overpowering the faint traces of burning.
Mrs Bird gave her a conspiratorial wink and Mary once more divested of her apron and stepped out to greet her husband. She ignored her husband's surprise to see her coming from the direction of the kitchen and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Happy anniversary, Matthew! I trust you had a pleasant day."