Page 27 of The Chef and the Countess

Chapter 9

Liam traveled toward Doctor Drew’s residence. He needed to borrow the Hornsby family carriage to bring Celia’s trunks to the restaurant. He might as well collect them since he needed to journey to Shinwell’s estate to settle the debt. Why wait for the cousin to deliver them as he said he would? Liam did not trust Shinwell to hold up his end in any deal.

Fifteen minutes later, the hansom cab pulled up in front of Drew’s residence. Liam had never been here before. The white stucco town house was four stories high and had fancy, wrought-iron fences, trellises, and bay windows with an intricate stained-glass design.

Liam climbed out of the hansom and paid the driver.

He knocked on the door, and a small woman with an apron answered. “Aye? Who is it?”

“I’m here to see Doctor Hornsby. I’m Liam Hallahan.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “And do you have an appointment?”

“Let him in, Mrs. Evans. I know the man.” Drew stood in the hallway, waving him in.

He stepped across the threshold. Liam couldn’t help but gape at the black and white tile marble floors and the ornate crystal chandelier above.

“You’ll be wanting tea, I suppose,” Mrs. Evans grumbled.

“Liam?” Drew asked.

“No. Thank you,” he replied.

“We will see to ourselves, Mrs. Evans.”

Mrs. Evans gave Liam a suspicious glance, then, wiping her hands on her apron, headed toward the rear of the house.

“That was Mrs. Evans, my cook-housekeeper and imperial guard. Come to my study.”

Liam followed Drew down the hall. “I can’t stay long. I hoped to ask a favor.”

Drew pointed toward the sofa, and Liam sat, taking in the lushness of the room—shelves of books filled one side of the wall, and a fire crackled in the hearth, making the elegant study cozy. Drew’s desk was solid oak with ornate scrollwork. This place reeked of money, inside and out.

As if reading his thoughts, Drew said, “My family has some money. I’m not ashamed of it. But I earn my way, as best as a doctor in free clinics will allow. That is why I am going over this list. I will rent the two stories above at the end of the month, and I have to pick a suitable tenant. One who will pay on time. Can I get you a drink?”

“It’s tempting, but I have my collecting duties this afternoon. You mentioned a few weeks ago that you have use of the Hornsby carriage until your family returns in the early spring.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I must go to Viscount Shinwell’s to collect a gaming debt and fetch Celia’s trunks. I can’t do that with a hansom cab. I know I’m asking a lot. Since we met, it seems all you’ve done is assist Mitchell or me. I appreciate it.”

Drew pushed his spectacles up his nose. “I do not mind. Not at all. I welcome this new twist to my life journey. The fact you are asking for my help tells me you are coming around to accepting the revelation of our blood ties.”

“I admit it hit me—hard. I was tempted to tell you and Mitchell to sod off, but in the end, I couldn’t do it.” It was quite the admission, but also the truth.

“I’m glad of it. Now, as to the carriage. My family has a four-seat Clarence with room at the rear for trunks and other luggage. Unfortunately, it’s not here, as I do not have the room to keep it, the horses, and the driver. But we can collect it at my family’s residence, which is not far away. Wright would welcome something to do.”

“I thought you had the family carriage here. I should have made the hansom wait,” Liam stated.

“We can catch another soon enough. They go by here at all hours. Is this part of your duties, collecting gaming debts?” Drew asked as he joined Liam on the sofa.

“No. When I took ownership, I carried over Walter Henning’s gaming rules. Most long-time customers pay, but two newer ones are in arrears. I no longer offer credit to those I don’t know. Even after doing thorough background checks like I did on these two, some men do not honor their debts promptly.”

“I have customers reimburse me with an up-front fee, especially if they are well off. The wealthy have a habit of running up debts and not paying them. It has been that way for decades, even centuries.” Drew hesitated. “To change the subject for a moment. When we first met, you said your mother told you who sired you. You never wanted to seek him out, even after your mother passed?”

Liam was not one for rehashing the past. But he supposed if he and Drew—and Mitchell, for that matter—were going to have any acquaintance or friendship, speaking of the past could hardly be avoided. He could growl and refuse to answer, but he had done that already. “No. He never came around but occasionally sent some bully with a handful of coins. It was never enough for us to live on, not long-term.” Liam paused, his insides contracting in pain as they often did when thinking of his impoverished childhood.

“I never believed my father was a duke,” Liam continued. “I thought it was the muscular, twitching rat bringing the coin. As my mother became sicker, the duke’s man offered to take me off her hands—for a price. She kept refusing. When she did pass away, I wasn’t sticking around to find out what the rat wanted me for. I did a runner.”