Page 35 of The Chef and the Countess

“Eugenics,” Celia whispered incredulously. “How despicable. Oh, Liam, that is quite the disclosure.”

“It appears we’re both dealing with upheavals in our lives,” Liam murmured.

“Yes,” Celia replied quietly. “And we must make the best of it. Doctor Hornsby is a decent and honorable man. I came to that conclusion swiftly. I’m sure Mitchell Simpson is the same.”

“He is.”

“Then why not embrace them as friends and brothers? As to the rest, the new Duke of Chellenham and the others can wait until you are ready. Open your heart, Liam. I know you have one. Let them in, as well as the people who work with you. Make them part of your life. You won’t regret it. I always longed for siblings. Corrine and Selena were as close as I came. I regret that we grew apart.” Celia met his gaze. “I am chattering and should not be making such suggestions. Ignore my misguided advice.”

“From anyone else, outside of a couple of people here, I would ignore it. But I appreciate that you—you—”

“Care enough to offer my opinion?” she smiled sweetly.

“Aye. That.”

“I do care, Liam. You have all accepted me into your circle. It means the world to me.”

His heart skipped a beat at her emotionally charged words. It was best to change the subject before he revealed how much he was growing to care for her. “You say your other friend is married to the Duke of Barnsdale?”

“Yes.”

“I will escort you as soon as we can arrange it. I’ll ask Drew to discover the address, and we’ll go from there.”

Celia smiled as she stood. “Thank you. I was told the duke was in seclusion with some illness. Selena mentioned she was ready to divorce him because he was cold and harsh. Maybe that is why she’s away.”

Liam scoffed. “Another miserable peerage marriage. I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Me, too. When I saw her in November, she was quite miserable. Selena did not want to be touched. She was never like that when we attended school.”

Which meant Celia’s friend had probably been mistreated mentally and physically. But Liam would keep that to himself, as he did not want to distress Celia further. “Don’t tell anyone working here about my family connections. I’ll tell them when I’m ready.”

“Of course.”

Liam rose, took her elbow, and escorted her to the door. “Thank you for listening. You’ve given me a lot to consider.” They were standing close. All Liam had to do was slip his arm about her waist and pull her near, but he resisted. Being her friend was about all he could deal with right now—or so he told himself—because he was also sorely tempted to kiss those luscious lips.

Celia gazed up at him, smiling. God, what he would give to look at her lovely face every morning next to him in bed. He abruptly stepped away. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven.” Liam wasn’t precisely aloof, but neither was his tone as warm as before.

Celia nodded. “Good night.”

He stood in the doorway, watching her stride down the hallway. A flood of yearning tore through him, causing his heartbeat to speed up. He ached for her. Absolutely ached. When she stopped before her door, he closed his before Celia caught him looking at her longingly.

“Open your heart,” she had said.

Easier said than done.

* * *

Later that week…

William Buckingham, the Earl of Darrington, exited his bedroom and slowly descended the stairs. It was already past ten, and he was starving. As his butler, Baldwin, approached him, William snarled, for he had no time to hear complaints about one thing or another. Not when he was famished.

“My pardon, my lord. But a visitor stopped by this past Sunday. You have not been here for me to inform you of the matter.”

William had been staying at his Hampstead flat, partaking of the hired pleasures from the nearby brothel. “Make it quick, man. The ham steaks are calling to me.”

“Mr. Liam Hallahan came to collect a gaming debt. The viscount refused to pay. Mr. Hallahan asked me to mention it to you as he wants to discuss the 240 pounds owed. He also wishes to discuss the Countess of Winterwood. I have his card, my lord. He says he will be here this coming Sunday afternoon.”

Blast it. William had initially thought Troy’s debt scheme a lark, but now the chickens had come home to roost. “Very well, I have received the message.” William strode away before Baldwin kept him any longer.