"Now, as to the meals that will be delivered during the rut," I said, trying not to let my words tremble. "If you think his lordship wants purees and confits during his—" I laughed and shook my head. "No, no, it's not that. Only that I think I would be grateful for some fruit, along with all the cheese and bread and cured meats, if you can manage it." 'If you can manage it' was the secret password to getting my way with Cook, a challenge to her determinedly capable authority over the kitchen. She made another note. "Easily enough. His lordship doesn't drink enough water during the rut."
