Page 30 of The Chef and the Countess

The footmen swiftly ascended the stairs. Liam leaned in and whispered, “Do you know where her Aunt Etta is? An address?”

“No, sir,” Baldwin murmured. “But I will venture to discover it.”

“Good man.” Liam reached into his pocket and held out his card. “My name and the address of my business in Spitalfields. Send word when you can.”

“Baldwin!” a slurred voice yelled from the top of the stairs. “Whom are you speaking to?”

Baldwin quickly palmed the card. “Someone to see you, my lord. He is most insistent.”

Shinwell descended the stairs and stood before Liam. He wore a dressing gown over his bare chest with matching silk trousers. He looked disheveled and bloated—no doubt from all the imbibing the night before. “You! You have got a nerve. Sod off.”

Such class. “I’m here to collect your gaming debt. You owe 240 pounds.”

“I paid that, and you know it.”

“Do you know how long your countess cousin would have to work to pay off that kind of debt? It would take over five years, not including the interest. I told you when you unceremoniously dumped her at my feet that I would not agree to such a heartless, cruel, and, may I add, illegal scheme.”

Baldwin gasped, then quickly arranged his shocked features into a neutral look.

“I will not pay. Get out of my house,” Shinwell said dismissively.

“Bruce will be by next Sunday. You’ve seen him at the pub? He’s an ex-boxer. He knows how to collect a debt—if not from you, then from your toff father.”

“How dare you threaten me?” Shinwell screeched. Four footmen came down the stairs carrying the trunks. “Put those down immediately!”

Baldwin shook his head, and the footmen continued out the door towards the carriage.

“Where is your father?” Liam questioned.

“He is not here,” Shinwell said, sniffing haughtily.

Baldwin slightly inclined his head as if to agree with the statement.

“Tell the earl I wished to see him regarding this debt and his niece. It would be to his benefit to arrange a meeting. I can come by next Sunday.” Liam looked to Baldwin. “Will you see he gets that message?”

“I will, sir. I relay all messages to his lordship.”

“We will not pay,” Shinwell shrieked. “Get that through your thick Irish skull. Who cares if it takes five years to work off the debt? My bitch of a cousin has nothing else to do or anywhere to go.”

Liam crossed the floor and grabbed a fistful of Shinwell’s rumpled dressing gown. “Don’t ever call her that. Follow me? Or I’ll give you the beating you deserve. It’s long overdue, I’ll wager.” Liam released him and pushed him away. Nodding to the butler, Liam departed. Drew and Wright busily secured the trunks. He could hear Shinwell raging, yelling epithets that would curl a sailor’s hair.

As they pulled away from the residence, Liam wondered if he had just made things worse. So much for his plan of not losing his temper. And he had one, enhanced by the injustice he had witnessed every day since he was a child. It took all his well-earned discipline to keep himself in check, for he could not abide anyone being mistreated. When Shinwell called Celia that name, fury tore through him. No one would ever disparage Celia in his presence.

No one.