Page 17 of The Chef and the Countess (The Duke’s Bastards #2)

After slipping on her wool coat, Celia hurried down the rear stairs. Once inside, she peeked into the boys’ room, but Tommy wasn’t there. She entered the kitchen and found Tommy slicing pickles.

“What are you doing, Tommy?”

He smiled. “I thought I would get a head start on the sandwich fillings for tomorrow. I already cut up some chicken.”

Celia smiled and playfully tousled his hair. “You are a fine lad. Thank you.”

Tommy laid the knife on the cutting board. “Did you talk to Liam?”

“Yes, I did. Tommy, do you want a father?” Celia would not push them together if there was any chance Tommy would reject Liam outright. Both man and boy were vulnerable. She could sense it. Although, if confronted with the notion, neither would admit it.

“I think so. I never had one. Sometimes, when I felt low at the workhouse, I wondered if my mother lied about my father coming to fetch me. Maybe she didn’t want me to see her die. But my mum had never lied to me before. And she wouldn’t fib about something important.”

“That is correct. Your mum would not tell falsehoods about this,” Celia replied firmly.

“Will Liam ask—do I take his name?” Tommy asked tentatively.

“There is no rush. I’m sure the choice will be up to you. Maybe you could keep your mum’s name, too.”

“Oh. Like Thomas Clahane Hallahan?”

Celia smiled. “That has a nice ring to it. Get your coat, and I will take you upstairs to Liam, where you can discuss it. Do not hold anything back, Tommy. Tell Liam everything you are feeling.”

“What about the pickles?”

“You can put them away later.” Celia grabbed the roll of parchment paper, tore off a piece, and placed it over the food.

Tommy nodded, wiped his hands on the tea towel, then collected his coat and scarf. Once they entered the upstairs hall, Celia waved to Liam, standing before the door. They walked toward him.

“I’ll leave you two to talk in peace.” As she turned to go, Liam took her hand. The warmth of his touch caused her heart to speed up, as it did every time he came near.

“Please stay. Is it all right with you, Tommy?” Liam asked.

“Aye. Please, Celia?”

How could she refuse? “If you wish.”

They headed into Liam’s sitting room and removed their coats. Liam sat in his chair, and Celia and Tommy sat on the sofa opposite him.

“I swear, lad, I knew nothing about you. Not in all these years. Your old landlady found an unfinished letter addressed to me. By the time I received it, a year had already passed since your mum died. I went to the workhouse immediately, but they said you’d run off with a boy called Timmy Cagney.”

“Oh,” Tommy said softly. “That’s why you didn’t come. You never got the letter.”

“No. According to the landlady, your mum died a few days after she placed you. Mrs. Tingley moved your mother’s remaining possessions to the cellar.”

“To sell them?”

Liam nodded. “Aye. For the rent owed, she said. Mrs. Tingley was going through the last of the clothing when she found the letter tucked in a pocket. Why did you run from the workhouse?”

Tommy shrugged. “I didn’t like it there. There was never enough food, and a lot of hard work. And they beat us. Timmy said he was escaping, so I went with him. I was soon sorry I followed him. Living on the streets was worse.”

“Aye,” Liam whispered. “It is at that.”

“How did you find me?”

“Fate, I suppose. Or pure luck. I looked in a few places in the East End. Then, one day, I saw three lads in the line for the free stew. I heard the names Timmy and Tommy. I followed you to Bethnal Green. When I saw you—I knew your mum was correct.”

“How long did you know my mum?”

“Not long,” Liam replied. “I was eighteen and unwise, but that’s no excuse.”

“Why didn’t she tell you? About me?”

“Molly Clahane was a good woman. She must have had her reasons. Maybe she assumed I wasn’t ready to be a father. And I wasn’t. I still had growing up to do.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “But she could have told you later. And told me when I got older. Mum never said anything about you until she placed me at the workhouse.”

“That was your mum’s decision, and we must respect it, yeah?”

“Aye. I suppose you’re right. Did you have a father?”

Liam shook his head. “I had an upbringing much like yours, only worse. I’ll tell you about it someday. I only just found out who my father was.”

“Oh,” Tommy whispered. “You’re a bastard like me.”

“Lad, don’t use that word. It’s society’s way of shaming those of us who came from unfortunate backgrounds.”

“They called us that at the workhouse,” Tommy whispered. “Whether we were or not.”

“I’m sorry. Forget it, lad. You don’t want to dwell on it.”

“Mum told the dressmaker shop she was a widow.”

“She did it so you both could have a roof over your head and food on the table. Your mother would never have been given the job at the shop if they had discovered she was unmarried with a child. Such is society’s harsh and unfair judgment. Maybe someday, the government will acknowledge children born outside marriage as equals. Until then, we look out for each other.”

“What happens now?” Tommy asked.

The frank discussion fascinated Celia.

“There is a room upstairs,” Liam ventured. “You can move in there. It’s larger than the one you’re in now.”

“What about Teddy and Timmy?”

“They’re apprentices and will stay in the room behind the kitchen.”

Tommy frowned. “Timmy looked after me in the workhouse, and when we left and met up with Teddy, Teddy protected us from the coppers, crooks, and other bad ones on the street. He found us food and places to sleep.” Tommy’s voice raised with each sentence. “I’ll not leave them below stairs. No!”

Tommy’s emotional outburst obviously surprised Liam, judging by his reaction.

“We don’t have to decide on living arrangements right now,” Celia offered gently. “Why not talk to Timmy and Teddy first and see what they say? Explain about Liam being your—being—”

“My father?” Tommy offered softly.

“Yes. Take your time, both of you, to adjust to this new situation.” Celia blushed. “Sorry. I should not be offering my opinion.”

“I don’t mind,” Liam replied.

“Me neither,” Tommy added, quickly over his burst of anger. He swung his gaze to Liam. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were in Bethnal Green when you found me?”

“Well, you were tired and sickly, and I wanted to give you time to recover and feel safe in your new surroundings. Why didn’t you mention it to me, then?”

“I wasn’t sure I could trust you. I wanted to see if the job you offered was real,” Tommy replied quietly.

“Very wise.”

“So, when can we tell everyone else?” Tommy asked.

“Whatever you want, lad,” Liam said. “Talk to Timmy and Teddy first.”

Tommy jumped to his feet and grabbed his coat and scarf. “I’ll go tell them right away!” Then he ran from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Liam exhaled deeply, and his shoulders slumped, emotionally drained.

“You did well,” Celia offered.

“Except about the room. Thank you for smoothing that over.”

“It will get better. You and Tommy will become better acquainted, and in doing so, you will move your relationship from employer and apprentice to father and son. That will take time and patience. I know you can do it. And so can Tommy. He is a fine boy, you know. A credit to his mother’s upbringing.”

“Aye, he is. Molly did a fine job. I wish she had contacted me.”

“I know.” Celia stood and headed toward the door. As she turned the handle, Liam came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Thank you for listening. Thank you for being—a good friend,” he whispered, his voice husky. Celia’s insides turned to custard at the sound of his deep voice as his lips brushed across the exposed area of her neck. “And I thank Providence that you are—here.”

“Y-y-you’re welcome.”

Celia opened the door far enough to slip through. It was best she departed, or she would be tempted to stay all night. Already, her insides fluttered like mad. She rushed down the hall and stopped at her door, peeking over her shoulder to see Liam leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, watching her intently. The man was darkly handsome, enticing beyond words. With a sigh, she reluctantly entered her room and closed the door.

* * *

Liam did not sleep much last night.

I have a son.

How many times did he repeat that statement while he tossed and turned? Granted, Tommy had been at The Crowing Cock for close to four months, but he’d never truly accepted the familial bond until last night. Not that he doubted Molly Clahane’s word, far from it. All he had to do was face the lad, and he could see the resemblance. Liam could have claimed him in Bethnal Green then and there. But he remembered the stress and horror of living on the streets. As he said, he wanted to give Tommy time to adjust to his new surroundings and situation. Maybe Liam needed time to accept this change as well.

Tommy had taken to restaurant life like a duck to water, proving their blood connection, at least in Liam’s mind. As the weeks ticked by, Liam remained unsure of how to broach the subject. The specter of rejection hung over him like a storm cloud, exacerbating his deep-seated vulnerabilities. Yes, he possessed them. That had become apparent in his dealings with Celia.

But he had no time to wallow in doubt. Liam strode about the kitchen, giving orders. The kitchen was where he felt in control—and in command. He offered a light menu since it was Monday and the restaurant had shortened opening hours. Three large stockpots simmered on the stove, with Hannah and Timmy stirring them constantly to prevent the creamy seafood chowder from burning. Liam made the chowder with chopped potato, grated carrot, scallops, salmon, shrimp, onion, and celery. He took a spoon, dipped it in the pot, and tasted it. It had turned out rather well.

“Tommy! Is the soda bread sliced and the butter whipped?”

“Aye, Liam.”

“Line up the bowls and the trays of soup spoons and knives on the prep table.”

Enya stuck her head in the door. “There is quite a crowd outside, Liam.”

“Get ready!” Liam called out. “Celia, sandwiches!”

“Yes, Liam. Chicken salad, Cheese and pickle, and cucumber.”

“Is there any more chicken?”

“Chopped and ready in the larder,” Celia replied as she hurriedly sliced the cucumber into thin slices.

“Then go and fetch it as we will need it.”

Celia hurried away.

“Teddy. Come here, lad.”

The boy finished the last of the dishes from the free stew served earlier. “When you’re done with the dishes, I want you to deliver this pot of stew to someone for me.” Liam pointed to the nearby counter. “You must take a hansom cab to Duck Lane in Westminster.”

A shadow passed over Teddy’s expression.

“You know of the place?” Liam questioned.

“Aye. Devil’s Acre. My mum and me lived there a while back. I ain’t—haven’t—been there for a few years.”

When Teddy arrived at the restaurant with Tommy and Timmy, he’d been the one in the roughest shape. Undernourished, pale, and wearing rags, he’d had to stay in bed for two weeks because of his lingering cough and overall weakness. The change in him over the past four months had been nothing short of amazing. He’d grown two inches and filled out, his face glowing with vibrant health. The power of proper eating. And he’d made great strides in learning to read and write.

“The delivery goes to Finnian’s Chop House, to Lucian Sharpe. Have you heard of him?”

“Aye. Everyone from Devil’s Acre has heard of Sharpe. But I don’t know him. I heard he’s a bad ‘un.” Teddy slipped and used street slang, which had Liam wondering if Teddy was apprehensive about returning to the area.

“You don’t have to do this. I will ask Timmy to deliver it.”

Teddy grabbed the wooden handle of the small, covered iron pot. “I can do it.”

“All right, if you’re sure. Here are some coins. Just drop off the pot to Sharpe and leave right away. Have the cab take you right to school.” He handed the money to Teddy. The boys were already late for school today, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Aye, Liam.” Teddy left to gather his coat, gloves, and scarf and gave Liam a brief wave as he exited the rear door.

Liam glanced at the clock. “Fire time!” he yelled. Everyone snapped to attention, and the wait staff hurried to the front doors and opened them. Then, the deluge began.

“Chowder, table two; tea tray, tables four and five; two chowder, table three!” The waitresses’ voices echoed with urgency, setting the pace for the bustling kitchen.

One large stockpot and part of the second were gone in less than an hour. Liam’s heart raced as he realized he was going to run out. The boys had left for school, so no one could assist him. But he would not panic. He glanced at Celia’s workstation. She was working furiously making the sandwiches.

“Pick up the pace, Celia!”

“Right away!” she called out.

He ran over to her. “Are you getting low?”

“I can mix up more chicken salad, but I’m running short of the cheese and pickle,” she replied breathlessly.

“Go to the larder and find the tins of salmon. Mash it with a fork and add salad cream and fresh dill.”

“Good idea.” Celia rushed away as he turned his attention to the stove. It was apparent he would have to hire one or two more workers for the day shift and the pub. But he couldn’t think about that now. Another hour passed, and he only had half a pot left. There was no time to make anything else.

Enya entered the kitchen, grabbed a cup and saucer, and placed them on her tray. “Doctor Hornsby is here. He’s at table eight. I’m getting him tea and chowder. He said there was no rush; come see him when things slow down.”

Early this morning, Liam had had Timmy deliver a note to Drew informing him of the shed fire and the loss of goods. He was no doubt here to discover more about the incident. “Give him a full pot of tea. I may be a while.” Liam ladled chowder into a bowl and slid it along the counter toward Enya without spilling a drop.

Thirty minutes later, the pot was empty, and Liam turned off the gas. He removed his apron and unrolled his shirt sleeves, buttoning the cuffs as he headed toward Celia. “How are you doing?”

Celia wiped her forehead with a tea towel. “All I have is the salmon left.”

“Go to the icebox and bring out the rest of the toff food. We’ll serve tea and cakes until closing—nothing else. Can you manage the kettles for boiling water?”

Celia gave him a warm smile. “Leave it with me.”

Liam caressed her cheek, then tucked a tendril of her lovely hair behind her ear. “You did well today. Grace under pressure. Amazing work.”

Celia blushed prettily. “Thank you. It was busy today.”

“I may have to rethink Monday’s hours.”

“With the cold weather, people look for warmth in the food and the surroundings. I read that in one of the cookbooks.”

“Aye. You’re right. I’m going to speak to Drew. Call out if you need me. I’ll tell the waitresses about the food.”

“Yes, Chef,” she whispered.

Liam chuckled as he grabbed an empty mug and exited the swinging door. The restaurant was still two-thirds full, but everyone had been served, and they were chatting and eating. He located Enya and took her aside. “The chowder’s gone. Tea, cakes, and biscuits until closing. There are a few salmon sandwiches available.” Liam started to step away, but he leaned in and whispered, “Well done today. Please pass on my words to Hannah and the rest.”

Enya smiled and winked as she moved away to attend to a customer.

Liam sat across from Drew. “Any tea left in the pot?”

“Good afternoon. Yes, and it’s still warm. I have been sitting here marveling at your kitchen and wait staff’s efficiency. Impressive. And the chowder was delicious.”

“Thank you. Today was uncommonly busy. I should serve more stews and chowders during the rest of the winter.” Liam poured tea into his mug and added milk from the pitcher. “You got my note?”

“Yes, the fire. How unfortunate. What occurred, exactly?”

Liam relayed the events of Saturday night, along with his visit to the earl and his slimy viscount son the next day.

“Do you believe Darrington was involved?” Drew asked.

“He acted surprised at my declaration. But Shinwell did not. I think Shinwell was involved, but I have no way to prove it. I am sorry for the loss of goods, yours and mine.”

“That is distressing. It appears we will be using the fifteen pounds we received from The Rakes to build a new shed and replenish the food and supplies.”

“Bruce collected the rest of the gaming debt from Hartright yesterday. We can use some of those funds. I know of someone who can build—”

Tommy and Timmy burst through the swinging door, running up to Liam. “Teddy never showed up at school!” Timmy’s voice was filled with worry, his eyes wide.

“Is he in trouble?” Tommy asked worriedly.

“Leave it with me, lads. Go help Celia in the kitchen.” The boys scampered away, and Liam pounded his fist on the table, causing the teapot lid to rattle.

“Is the boy in danger?” Drew asked, showing concern.

“I will soon find out. Come with me to Devil’s Acre. I’ll explain the particulars on the way.”

Liam and Drew entered the kitchen. Liam grabbed his wool coat from the hook by the rear door, then turned toward Celia as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I’m going to fetch Teddy. Can you handle things here?”

“Yes. Fiona’s here, too. She’s in the larder gathering ingredients. Since there’s no chowder left, I’m making sandwiches for the staff.”

Liam smiled. “Good. Thank you.”

As Drew and Liam stepped onto the walkway to look for a hansom cab, Drew said, “I take it things are progressing well with you and Lady Celia?”

Lady. Right.

Sometimes, he forgot Celia’s aristocratic ties. How that would bode for the future remained to be seen, although Celia had expressed a desire to stay here, and a desire for him. That filled him with hope. For now, he had to locate Teddy. He never should have sent him to Lucian Sharpe. Liam should have listened to his gut. Too late now.

“Progressed with Celia? You can tell?” Liam asked.

“I may not have much experience with women as my medical practice has hampered my social interactions. However, I can recognize yearning looks when I see them.”

This meant others may have noticed as well. Liam had always been cautious with his emotions, packing them away deep within. Not with Celia, it seemed. “Aye, but how wise is it? That’s another conversation altogether.” Liam waved down an oncoming cab. Wise or not, there was no denying his growing feelings, and knowing Celia felt the same had his heart beating double time.

As they climbed in and gave the address, Liam felt a growing dread. Lucian Sharpe was not to be crossed. They shared a begrudging and wary respect and even had brief conversations several times in the past.

Liam preferred to keep his distance from the man.

But now, there was no choice.

None at all.