view.
“I thought we could break our fast early today. We have to get the chores done and then hitch the wagon to make a trip to Sheffield.”
“No milking cows and collecting eggs today then?” she asked with a heavy amount of suspicion.
“I was going to wait until next week but my...churner broke and I need to replace it. Don’t worry, Dominic can handle the work for today, tomorrow it will be back to cows and chickens for us.”
She didn’t appear as though she believed a word he stuttered, but she didn’t argue. Merely inclined her head and ate her breakfast as though it was to be her last meal ever.
When she flicked a glance in his direction, he couldn’t help but keep staring.
With an odd look, she ran her tongue over her teeth, wiped her mouth with a linen and then stared back. “Do I have something on my face?”
Blake shook his head. “I haven’t before seen a grown woman eat like you.”
One dark brow lifted and he wished he didn’t now raise her suspicion in every inconsequential comment. As a girl, she’d never been a particularly fussy eater. Those in the country couldn’t afford to be. But he’d served many a titled gentlewoman in his private parlor, and more often than not, there were complaints about his menu options. As though he should have served only the finest of foods.
“I am hungry.”
“That you are,” he said with a laugh, trying not to think of her as a fancy lady.
“If I am hungry, I eat. After yesterday’s deprivation of breakfast and lunch, I thought to take advantage now.”
And there it was again. Even though they didn’t exchange insults, she was still mad. He was trying his hardest to be a gentleman now, but with retorts like that, it would be very difficult indeed.
Moving about the kitchen after breakfast, he washed the few pans and pots used to make a meal fit for a duchess and let his mind wander to the events of the day and their journey to Sheffield.
He planned to be his most charming self no matter her half remarks and reminders of the day before. He would let her chat away, listen when she talked, murmur the appropriate phrases when she drew breath and generally play the role of gentleman. It was the only weapon he had left now. Not in the sense of hurting her. No. He was beyond that. Seeing the hurt in her eyes did things to his heart that didn’t feel comfortable.
Hanging his wet dish rag on a hook by the hearth, he took one last look around his kitchen with pride. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Each pot had a shelf or hook, each plate, spoon, fork and bowl had been earned and lovingly cared for. He’d worked hard for every item his gaze roamed over. His was a good life, but he wished it had turned out differently.
When he was just five years old, his mother had left him on the doorstep of this tavern. She hadn’t left a note. No explanation. Nothing. But his uncle had known why he’d gained an extra mouth to feed. A woman couldn’t live alone with a child and not earn scorn and derision from her friends and neighbors unless she was a widow. It would have been so much easier for them all if she had been.
The only problem he’d seen through the eyes of a five-year-old child was that she’d abandoned him to a fate worse than derision or tomato target practice in the street. It had only taken twelve short months for Blake to become intimate with pain and humiliation. To dodge and duck the fists and slaps meant for his head and back. He’d missed his mother madly and held hope for a long time that she would come back and save him. That she would miss him so much, realize life was better when they were together and come back. After a few years, he’d forgotten the color of her eyes, how she looked when she smiled, the sound of her laughter. Resentment eventually had a way of shadowing the good times and turning them all bad.
His reprieve from the nightmare his life had become came in the form of Matthew Martin and a few years later his little sister.
Little Sophie who wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even Blake’s violent uncle.
But then just like his mother, she’d fled. Disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye or trail