Page 65 of The Chef and the Countess

Fiona sat on the chair by the bed, facing Celia. “So then, Lady Celia.”

Celia sighed. “I’m sorry I did not inform Liam right away that I am the widow of an earl. I suppose I was afraid he would toss me to the cobbles, for he made his disdain for the upper classes plain. I told the truth in everything else.”

“A lie of omission, then,” Fiona replied.

“Yes. I like being part of the group and having you all treat me as an equal. As a countess, I lived in a cottage near the Scottish border. There were no fancy balls or other social events in my life, not for a long time. I spent the past six years tending to my ill, much older husband. Liam and Drew offered me Drew’s rear flat until I could contact my aunt and friends, but I wanted to stay here with all of you.”

“And with Liam,” Fiona interjected softly.

“It is that obvious, then?”

“Aye, it was when I first mentioned it, and it’s more so now. On both sides, it seems. The look of horror on Liam’s face when that loud-mouthed git cut you. It spoke volumes.”

Celia’s heart hitched. “It spoke of what?”

“Ducks, I walked in on you sitting on Liam’s lap with his hand up your skirt. That proves desire. But it’s more than mere lust. I saw the concern on his face when you were injured. I’ve also seen you and he cast longing glances toward each other when you thought no one was looking, including yourselves.” Fiona chuckled. “It’s the talk of the staff.”

Celia groaned. “Oh, no. I so wished to avoid that.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “What happens when you contact your aunt or friends? Will you rejoin the upper crust? Find another elderly aristocrat to hitch your wagon to? Swan off to some country estate to live a life of leisure and privilege?” Fiona’s words cut, as if she were purposely trying to taunt her.

At first, Celia felt hurt by the assessment. Then, she grew annoyed, but she would not take the bait. “I am not some pampered countess,” Celia declared evenly.

“Is that so?”

“I was forced into that marriage at age nineteen when I had nothing and no one. Not even my aunt spoke up for me. Well, she tried. Regardless, it’s the reason we are estranged. My parents died in a boating accident when I was ten, and I had no choice but to move in with my aunt and her family.” She kept her voice as steady as possible.

“What happened to your parents’ money?”

“My father was a baronet, not part of the peerage. We lived comfortably, but we were not wealthy. The residence and belongings were sold to settle the mortgage and other debts. There was nothing left when it was all said and done.” Celia caught Fiona’s gaze. “Why am I explaining all this to you? What business is it of yours?” Her voice raised with each sentence; so much for keeping emotion out of it.

“Liam is my business,” Fiona replied, her voice fraught with feeling. “He’s family, and we look out for one another. I don’t want to see him hurt. You should have seen him when Walter took him in. He acted like an untamed animal, too thin and sickly by half. Already, he kept his feelings well hidden. It took months for Liam to show even a smidgen of trust. To this day, he keeps a part of himself removed from everyone. Until you arrived here.” Her concern for Liam was palpable in every word she spoke. Celia could not fault her for it.

“Me?” Celia gasped.

“Liam’s had plenty of lady friends through the years, some relatively recent. But he never brought them around here for us to meet. He keeps you close even when the opportunity arises to hand you off to the doctor. He wants you at his side. And that has me worried. This life is not for everyone. It’s hard, grinding work from dawn to dusk and beyond. Do you honestly believe you can live and work at Liam’s side for the foreseeable future? Have you ever given any thought to it? Because I can guess Liam has when he’s alone with his thoughts.” Fiona paused. “He’s in love with you.”

Love? The thought filled her heart to near bursting. “Has he said so?”

Fiona shook her head. “I don’t think he’s quite aware of it yet, or at least he can’t put a name to his feelings. As I said, Liam keeps his emotions well concealed. He’s never talked of his past much, but I assume it had something to do with him being—”

“Aloof? Withdrawn? Distant? Reserved?”

“Aye. To a point. More often than not. It also speaks to his vulnerabilities, and aye, he has them.”

“Don’t we all? He talked about his past with me,” Celia declared. “Some of it, at least.”

Fiona’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Well. That gives further proof.”

Celia held out her hand, and Fiona leaned forward and took it. “I do not want to hurt Liam. I’d rather cut out my liver.”

Fiona chuckled. “You heard Bruce say that more than once.”

“Yes. I like the expression as it conveys how I feel. My feelings for Liam are private; when I voice them, it will be to him and no one else. For once in my life, I have choices before me, and I am going to do what is right for me and my happiness. We all deserve it.”

Fiona squeezed Celia’s hand and nodded, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “Aye, ducks. Contentment. Love. We all deserve it. Even me. Bruce has said he wants us to be together, permanent like.”

“You and Bruce? I think that is wonderful!”