Page 28 of The Chef and the Countess

“I believe I have an idea,” Drew said gravely. “The previous Duke of Chellenham had a scheme where he sold children—his own included—to people needing or wanting them. Apprenticeships, as a son or daughter, or cheap labor. He made a tidy profit over the years, especially when he brought in like-minded men of means wishing to be rid of their—”

“By-blows? Whoresons? Bastards?” Liam offered softly.

“Yes. According to Damon Cranston, the new duke, Chellenham was a cold, cruel man with no honor and no love in his heart. He believed in eugenics. Do you know what that is?”

“I read about it in one of the papers. Procreating for the express purpose of improving the quality of the human population? Why would he do that?”

“Hubris. Arrogance and egocentricity. A belief that his physical attributes were superior and that perfection should be passed on. No wonder my mother moved us constantly and changed our names to hide from him. She was terrified,” Drew replied solemnly.

“Jaysus,” Liam murmured.

“As far as I can tell, having met you, Mitchell, Damon, and Olivia, none of us have the worst of his personality traits, not deep down where it counts. I have only just met the four young siblings Damon is taking in, and they seem to be well-behaved.”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “And they’re good-looking, I suppose?”

“Yes. At least outwardly. An older girl at the home was recently reunited with her mother. She had black hair like you. Not all of the progeny are blond. But most seem to be. I hope they are good inside as well. Will you meet the young ones and Damon?”

Liam frowned. “I don’t know, at some point. It feels—strange. You say there is a half-sister too, this Olivia you speak of?” Drew nodded. “Let me get used to you and Mitchell first and come to terms with this situation before meeting anyone else.”

“Fair enough. Though I welcome it, I am still trying to understand it. My Hornsby family has been very supportive.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“I am. The thing of it is, now you have Mitchell and me.”

Liam nodded. An odd lump formed in his throat, along with a surge of emotion, which made it difficult for him to reply. He wasn’t used to having such a decided emotional response concerning other people. It was bloody confusing and concerning. Celia was also causing him to have emotional reactions. She touched him, more than he cared to admit.

“Now, let’s go on your errand. Would you mind if I came? It never hurts to have witnesses when collecting debts,” Drew said in a wry tone.

“Not at all. I’d appreciate it.”

Drew gathered his coat, hat, and gloves, and they caught a hansom to the Hornsby residence in Mayfair. This peerage home was all brick with wrought iron balconies. As Drew had said, the family had money. This residence looked as if a duke lived there. Liam removed his peaked cap as they entered the front hallway, even more fancy than Drew’s.

“Good morning, Taylor. Is Wright about? I need the carriage.”

“Good morning, Doctor,” the butler replied respectfully. “I will fetch him for you. In his most recent letter, the duke mentioned that if you came by, I should show you some items you may wish for your residence or if you do not want them, you may donate to charity. They are in the study in the far corner.”

“Thank you, Taylor. We will find our way.”

Liam followed Drew down the hall into the study. “Perhaps you can use some of these items in your various establishments,” Drew said. It was a massive room filled with bookcases to the high ceiling and a sliding ladder to reach the top shelves. Dark wood panel walls and gold draperies gave the room an opulent look. Liam had never seen so many books.

“Here we are,” Drew said. “A painting of a serene country lake with a cottage. Do you think Lady Celia would like it for her room?”

“Aye, she would. That table. Is it for ladies?” Liam pointed.

“Yes, a vanity with a stool. It’s not very large, but it would fit in the room.”

“And those bed tables. If you don’t mind, I’d like them for the lads’ room.”

“Let’s take it all. Ah, Wright. There you are. We need your services and the carriage. This is Mr. Hallahan.” Mr. Wright, the coachman, touched his forelock in reply. “Fetch some footmen, and we will load all this on or inside the Clarence. Then we need you to take us to a couple of addresses, one to collect two trunks.”

“Yes, Doctor. Shall I bring a footman to assist with the trunks?” Wright asked.

“Capital idea. We had best be off.”

After the conveyance was packed, they departed. The coach pulled up in front of Elliot Hartright’s residence, and Liam exited and pounded on the doorknocker.

“Oh, Hallahan,” Hartright exhaled as he opened the door wider. “I can guess why you are here.” Hartright worked in a bank, as an officer, or whatever. He was not prosperous, but neither was the man underprivileged. Liam guessed he owed more than he made in a year. Collecting the total amount today was probably not possible.