Page 16 of The Chef and the Countess (The Duke’s Bastards #2)

Liam arrived home shortly after four in the afternoon. Celia had waited all day for his return. Thankfully, making the scones had taken up part of the time, and they’d turned out lovely. When she learned Liam had gone to his rooms, she swiftly prepared a tray with tea and scones and took them up to him. As she entered the hall, she again pondered how to broach the sensitive subject of Tommy.

Celia knocked on the door, and Liam flung it open.

“Hello. I hope you don’t mind. I have brought scones and tea. Tommy and I made them.”

He stood aside. “Come in.”

Celia entered and placed the tray on the table. After removing her coat, she poured the tea, passed him the mug, and then poured a cup for herself and sat on the sofa across from his chair. “I think they taste fine for a first attempt. We added currants and cinnamon.”

“I have something for you,” Liam said as he sipped his tea. He pointed to an envelope on the table. “That is yours. It’s the five pounds your cousin stole from you plus thirty-five more for your trouble.”

Celia’s heart sank like a stone tossed into a lake. Liam wanted to be rid of her. All her nightly dreams and imaginings that something profound had grown between them… Had it just been her overwrought imagination? She’d believed that sparks danced all around them when they touched. But then, what did she expect? They had only known each other for two weeks. This was not some grand romance. “Darrington paid Shinwell’s debt?”

“No, not exactly.”

Celia’s eyebrows furrowed. “I do not understand.”

“I made a deal with Darrington. I would forgo the gaming debt owed me in exchange for payment for what your cousin stole and the negotiated thirty-five pounds. I also got your aunt’s address in Italy.”

Celia blinked rapidly, trying to take in what he said. “You did that for me? Why? You left close to two hundred pounds on the table.”

“You deserved justice. This was the best way to see it done.”

“Is that the only reason?” Celia whispered.

“No. You’re a fine lady—a dowager countess—and should not be toiling in a kitchen for a few shillings a week.”

“What if I told you I felt more alive these past two weeks than I have in the past several years? Before I arrived here, I had been shunted around and made to feel invisible from the moment my parents died. And my marriage to Winterwood was a barren expanse of nothingness. The age difference between us negated any reflective conversation or shared amusements. Oh, we formed a polite friendship, I suppose. But as far as intimate relations? Perfunctory and swift, for the possible making of an heir—”

Liam held up his hand. “You don’t have to tell me any of this.”

Celia knew she was prattling, but she had to get this out. “I must. For five years, I tolerated his weekly visits to my bed. It was—I do not know how to explain it. If that is my total understanding of what intimacy exists between a man and a woman, then I never want to experience it again. It left me feeling more alone than ever. Is it always like that?” The words poured out of her. Celia couldn’t stop them.

Liam shook his head. “No. It’s not like that, not with the right partner. It can be mutually enjoyable.”

“That is your experience?”

“Yes, for the most part. I hear it’s even more intense when love plays a role. I wouldn’t know about that. I’m sorry you did not take any pleasure or were given any. No young woman of nineteen should be married off to a doddering fifty-five-year-old.”

“No, she should not. But it happens far too often, especially in the aristocracy. I tell you this to show how much I enjoy being here on my terms and how it has given me purpose. Thank you for the money, but I will not move to Drew’s empty flat. Unless you want me to go.”

Liam looked down at his hands, and Celia’s heart sank deeper as she waited for his reply. If he asked her to leave, that would be the end of it. With forty pounds, she could find a suitable place to rent a room until she located her friends or her aunt returned. She would mail a letter as soon as possible and inform Aunt Etta of everything that had transpired. Celia would never return to the Darrington residence, not even for her aunt, but it was past time she and her aunt reconciled.

Liam exhaled, then looked up and caught her gaze. His eyes darkened with emotional intensity. “I don’t want you to go. I’ve never felt like this before. I can’t even explain what I feel. Everything is jumbled inside of me. I’m revealing too much, but I don’t want to lie—not to you. All I know is I want you to be happy.”

Celia’s eyes shimmered, and her heart thundered with powerful emotions. “Thank you for being truthful. I will also speak the truth. I am happy here . It already feels like home. Why would I want to leave? I have not had a home or people who care for me since my parents died. And I have never felt like this before, either.”

He gave her a sad half-smile. “We must be practical. There can be nothing permanent between us. You’re a countess, a daughter of a baronet, and not of my class.”

“I do not accept that. Corrine and her police detective have made it work,” Celia said firmly.

“Mitchell was raised by loving parents and given a good home in a middle-class neighborhood. Drew was raised in the aristocracy. You don’t want to know of my past and what I did to survive,” Liam growled.

“I do want to know.”

Liam sighed and looked toward the window. Light snow flurries tumbled from the sky. “I was raised in grinding poverty. My mother and I moved constantly from one dingy room to another. From ages six to eight, I was a pickpocket. From the age of eight until I was eleven, I worked as a house thief. Dodgy blokes often use youngsters because they are small and can climb through windows. Often in the early morning, servants open windows to air rooms out. I grabbed anything I could get my hands on, such as silver spoons, snuff boxes, or whatever could fit in my pockets.”

“Oh, Liam,” Celia whispered. “That must have been frightening.”

He nodded, then met her gaze again. Celia could see the recollections caused pain. “I was good at it until I started growing. Then I moved into attic thievery. I’d wait until the family and servants were having dinner below stairs, climb in, then make my way to the family bedrooms, grabbing jewelry and the like. My cut from these jobs kept my mother and me in a couple of rooms. We were able to eat meat at least once a week.”

“Then your mother got sick.”

Liam nodded. “I didn’t stick around to have the duke’s rat locate me.”

“Who was the duke’s rat?” Celia asked softly.

“He was Chellenham’s man. He came a few times and gave my mother coins for my upkeep. For a while, I wondered if that muscle-bound bloke was my father. Then he offered to buy me. After that, my mother and I left the Seven Dials and crossed the Thames into Spitalfields. I found out from Drew that Chellenham sold children, his own included, for profit. Anyway, after my mother died, I spent the next two years doing what I could survive: pickpocketing, robbery, and digging through rubbish to find edible food. That is where Walter Henning found me, nibbling on a piece of stale bread beside his shed.”

Her heart throbbed with empathy for him. “Mere words cannot express the depth of my sorrow for what you have endured. I would never hold your past against you. The strength you’ve shown in surviving surpasses all. Where did you receive your schooling?”

“I went to a ragged school in the Seven Dials until we left. Once Walter took me in, he sent me to school in the afternoons. I learned how to do the books and math problems related to cooking. I also read a lot, not just about cuisine.”

“I became an even more voracious reader once I married. There wasn’t much else to do in Northern England. Mr. Henning made you an apprentice. Did you like him?”

“Yes,” Liam murmured. “I cared about him, faults and all. He became the father I never had. Or what I imagined a father could be.”

“And he loved you . He left you the business.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Now that you have shared your past with me, please enlighten me on why you believe it will hinder us from being—more.”

* * *

Liam’s eyelids fluttered shut. He felt a raw vulnerability, his dark soul laid bare. He instantly regretted revealing his past. He hadn’t even shared the full story with Walter. But there were some aspects he didn’t dare tell Celia. She didn’t need to know how he was bullied, or how the criminals had tried to coerce him into selling himself for extra coins. He’d also been the one to insist that he and his mother escape the Seven Dials; staying there had become intolerable, especially with the duke’s rat sniffing around.

Could there be more between him and Celia?

At night, when he was alone, Liam indulged in fanciful dreams of Celia working alongside him in the coming years, sharing everything, as partners and lovers. But there was an even more secret aspect of his life, and he did not know how to broach the subject.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Be serious. You would give up a life in the upper class to toil sun-up to sundown in an East End kitchen?”

Celia leaned forward. “If not, where do you think I will live? Even if I reconcile with my aunt, I will never live with Darrington and Shinwell. I cannot stay with my friends longterm. So, I live on forty pounds a year, renting a cheap room in the West End. How is that any better? At least here, there are people I care about. I’d have a purpose in life, and pride in a job well done.”

Liam stood and headed toward the window. The sun was setting, casting red streaks across the cloudy sky. “It’s only been a couple of weeks. You will soon tire of it—and me.”

Celia ran to his side, grasped his arm, and pulled him to face her. “How dare you make pronouncements about what I feel! I—”

Liam leaned down and kissed her deeply, effectively cutting off her sentence. He cupped her face, laying soft kisses at the corner of her mouth, only to dive in and retake complete possession. Celia moaned and met every thrust of his tongue as she threw her arms about his neck. She tasted glorious, like a sweet dessert, which made him crave her even more. He slipped his arms to encircle her waist and pulled her close so that she could feel exactly how she moved him. Bloody hell, he ached, utterly yearned for her. This emotion he could name: lust, passion, desire. Liam felt it all. It was the deeper, more complicated feelings he was having difficulty with.

Celia ground against him, causing his erection to harden further. In a deft move, he swung her about until her back rested against the wall. His hands slid over the curve of her hip until he grabbed her arse and lifted her far enough from the floor to rest against his leg. She gasped, then smiled and kissed him fiercely. The room spun. The heat they created rivaled the kitchen cookers roiling at full tilt. Liam cupped her breast, his thumb brushing against her erect nipple. He trailed feverish kisses down her neck only to retake possession of her luscious mouth.

Easy, lad.

That annoying voice inside his head brought Liam back down to earth. He was moments away from losing control. This was not the time or the place. Shuddering from unspent passion, he gently lowered Celia to the floor until the toes of her boots rested on the floor. Taking a shaky step in reverse, he met her wide-eyed gaze.

Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen and well-kissed. It took all his inner strength not to kiss her senseless again, tunnelling his hand under her wool skirt until he found wetness at her feminine core. And he knew instinctively she was wet for him. Oh, how he wanted to make her come apart in his arms. Over and over again. The depth and breadth of his desire stunned him.

“Why did you stop?” Celia rasped.

“I wish I knew, lass.”

Celia cleared her throat. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?”

He leaned in, took a stray tendril of her golden-brown hair, and tucked it behind her ear. “Aye. That’s the truth.”

She clasped his hand, and the contact sent his heart racing. Celia kissed each knuckle tenderly. “You think we should not rush into anything,” she murmured sensually.

Liam was ready to sweep her into his arms and take her to his bed. Instead, he stood stock-still, frozen. That had never happened before in his life, which proved this was beyond his experience. “Aye,” he croaked.

Celia took his hand and laced her fingers with his, then looked up and caught his gaze. “Then we will not hurry. Not tonight. Come and sit on the sofa with me. I came to speak to you about something else entirely.”

Could he bloody well sit? He was painfully aroused. However, he allowed Celia to pull him toward his sofa, and they sat on it.

“I have come to talk about Tommy,” Celia said matter-of-factly as she turned slightly to face him.

That dampened his passion and sent his senses on full alert. “What about the lad?”

“We went for a walk this afternoon, and he confided something very personal to me. He asked me to speak to you as he wasn’t sure how to approach you about such a sensitive subject. Can you guess what it is?”

Liam closed his eyes. “Aye. I believe I can. What did he tell you?”

“He says you are his father.”

Liam’s eyes popped open as he met her steady gaze. “What else did he say?”

Celia relayed everything Tommy had told her. His insides churned at hearing the details, and his heart ached to hear everything Tommy had gone through.

“Did you know?” Celia asked softly.

Liam shook his head. “At first? I had no idea. Molly and I were involved for less than two months. I was eighteen; what did I know about the consequences? Walter took me aside and asked if I was seeing a lass since I went out some nights and didn’t come back until late. He also asked if I used protection.” Liam snorted. “I hadn’t. He gave me a shake and told me to grow up. If I was going to rut with the lass, I had to be a man and take responsibility. I used protection after that. You’d think I would know better, considering the way I was conceived. It showed how stupid and thoughtless I was then. Ultimately, I realized I wasn’t ready for anything serious, so I ended it with Molly.”

“And she never contacted you after discovering she was pregnant.”

Liam shook his head. “Molly knew where I lived and worked. She never came near. And I never sought her out again, either. Jaysus, I am as bad as that despicable duke who sired me.”

Celia touched his arm. “Never. You were eighteen, still a lad in many ways. Walter should have spoken to you about the consequences a few years earlier. When did you find out about Tommy?”

“A woman contacted me a few months ago. She was Molly’s landlady. Some of Molly’s things were still there, and the landlady was cleaning them out when she found an unfinished letter tucked in an envelope. It was addressed to me. In it, Molly stated she was dying, and that she had placed Tommy in the Strand Union Workhouse. By the time I got this letter, more than a year had passed.”

“Oh, no. Molly never sent the letter. How tragic,” Celia murmured. “That explains why Tommy waited so long in the workhouse before he ran away.”

“I journeyed to the workhouse as soon as possible. I was told Tommy left with another lad, Timmy Cagney. How would I ever find him in this city?”

Celia was utterly caught up in the narrative. “How on earth did you find him?”

“I tried checking various rookeries in the East End where the homeless tend to congregate. But I didn’t have much luck. Then, one day, I saw three lads in the line waiting for stew. I heard the names Tommy and Timmy. It couldn’t be them, I reasoned. But I followed them to an abandoned house in Bethnal Green. The building was about to be pulled down. When I came face-to-face with them, it was obvious which of the lads was Tommy. He agreed to come and work for me if he could bring the other two.”

“And you’ve said nothing these last months?” Celia said incredulously.

Liam trailed his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him to become comfortable here, to feel safe before I broached the subject.”

Celia shook her head. “He’s certainly your son, for he didn’t know what to say, either. I’ll go fetch him.”

“What? No.”

Celia stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Liam, Tommy knows I’m here speaking with you. He will ask me questions. Isn’t it better to get this all out in the open?”

Liam’s emotions were whirling--first, he’d almost lost himself in a passionate encounter with Celia and now, he had to decide how to deal with Tommy.

“Aye. Fetch him.”

There was no time like the present.