The Last Time We Met - By Lily Lang Page 0,22

persuade him to the contrary, but have generally been unsuccessful.”

“Well,” said Miranda carefully, “he did not, precisely, give Harriet time off. I told her she was to go home, and then I went into the kitchen to tell Monsieur Leblanc she was gone. And it is true he did not want me to stay at first. But when I showed him I knew how to do everything, and I could help Polly with the roasting and boiling, he said I could stay.” She hesitated, then allowed pride to overcome caution. “Then I showed him how Cook used to make his pastry, and he said I was to do the pies tonight, which Polly said was a very great honor because he does not even permit Bruno, who is his apprentice, to do it.”

And despite the myriad anxieties preying upon her mind, she felt a faint burst of satisfaction at the memory. More than even her pleasure at being useful again, at having something to do even if it was work like a maid in Jason’s club, she had reveled in experiencing once again the camaraderie she had known in the kitchens of her own home. Until tonight, she had not truly realized how lonely she had been at Thornwood after her brother had left for Eton, and her aunt had removed all the old servants who had been the only true family she and William—and Jason—had ever known.

“I see,” said Jason. “So it was a fait accompli. How very clever of you. And I seem to recollect Cook always said you had a way with pastry.”

She drew in her breath sharply. It was the first time since her arrival that Jason had mentioned the life he’d had at Thornwood, and her heart clenched at this acknowledgment of the good times in their shared past. Unable to stop herself, she glanced at him from over her shoulder, but his expression was as closed and unreadable as ever.

Looking quickly away again, she said, “It did not seem right Harriet should not be permitted to visit her mother when she is so ill. And Monsieur Leblanc is not unkind. Only he is very absorbed in his food. Nothing else seems to exist for him—though he does seem very fond of his own mother.”

“I confess I had been unaware Monsieur Leblanc had a mother,” said Jason, his tone dry.

Despite herself, Miranda smiled and glanced over at him again. “You thought perhaps he had been hatched from an egg?”

The corners of his mouth curved as well, and her breath caught. When she was a child, making the quiet, solemn boy Jason had once been smile had been a game to her, and in the intervening years none of her pleasure had diminished at succeeding.

Then she frowned, remembering something she had learned earlier that day. “By the by, sir, you ought to send a hamper to Bruno’s home. His wife fell and broke her leg, and they have three very young children.”

For a moment Jason was utterly silent, and she thought she had overstepped herself. Flushing with embarrassment for intervening in club business, she said, “That is, of course, if you wish it.”

Jason tilted his head and regarded her for a long moment.

“How did you do it?” he asked at last. “How did you discover Bruno’s wife broke her leg and Harriet’s mother is ill in Hampstead Heath and Monsieur Leblanc missed his mother? They have both worked here at Blakewell’s for years. They never mention anything of the sort to me.”

“I-I talked to them, I suppose,” she said lamely. “People are the same all over, aren’t they? They’re good people, Jason, even Monsieur Leblanc, for all that he shouts and throws things.”

She had slipped and used his Christian name. She flushed, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“Yes, of course,” he said. He set aside his glass on the table near him and took a step toward her. Her heart leapt in her throat as he reached out and caught her face in one hand.

“I suppose you can’t help it, can you?”

“Can’t help what?” Miranda repeated, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the sensation of his skin on her own. How well she remembered the feel of his hands on her, she thought, and resisted the urge to turn her face into his callused palm.

“Can’t help playing the lady of the manor,” he said.

“I…I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come now,” said Jason. He had drawn so close his breath stirred the tendrils of her hair. “Taking