Page 77 of The Chef and the Countess

Chapter 23

Celia could not believe she just blurted that news. Everyone stared at her, and the room grew quiet.

“You’ve got a rich aunt?” Enya asked, her eyes wide.

“Not that wealthy,” Celia murmured as she folded the telegram and placed it on the table.

“You’re not leaving us?” Tommy said, his voice quivering.

“No, lad. Not for a while. That is if I even decide to go.” Aunt Etta said a letter with more details was on its way, including what travel plans to make. Her aunt sounded as if she had no immediate plans to return to London. Well, life could undoubtedly surprise a person. First, Celia had received the money settlement, and now, an invitation to stay with her aunt in Italy.

Celia cast a side glance at Liam. He was stony-faced as usual when faced with a situation that required an emotional response—or any response at all.

“Your fortunes have taken a turn, ducks,” Fiona enthused. “Good for you.”

“It appears as if more than one of us has had our lives take an abrupt turn,” Liam said as he cleared his throat. “As I told you all last night, I appreciate you all. This business does not work without all of you. Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. I know I apologized last night, but allow me to do it again.”

Celia’s eyes widened. Liam had apologized to the staff last night and told them he appreciated them? Her heart soared. Perhaps there was hope after all. But why didn’t he tell her that this morning? Celia knew why; he couldn’t speak.

“I am sorry I’ve been brooding more than usual, but I’ve learned something about my past that has thrown me for a loop. You’ve seen Detective Sergeant Mitchell Simpson around before Christmas, and Doctor Drew Hornsby has been here often lately. I discovered in November that they’re my half-brothers.”

Gasps rose from the table.

“Aye, it was a bloody shock to me and all,” Liam continued. “We share a duke father.”

“A bleedin’ duke?” Fiona cried shrilly.

“The late Duke of Chellenham. He was a nasty piece of work. He has offspring all over the city and beyond, seeing he was a careless, arrogant pillock of the first order.”

Fiona shook her head. “All that toff food that came today is from—another half-brother? The new duke?”

“That’s the jist of it. I haven’t met him yet. There’s more of us, the duke’s bastards. I’ll meet them at some point. Nothing’s changed. I’m still Liam Hallahan, faults and all. And aye, I have enough faults to fill a stock pot or two.”

Celia glanced around the table. Everyone had stopped eating, and more than one looked dazed. Liam was telling the truth. She was so proud of him that she thought her heart would burst.

“There’s more,” Liam said in a clear voice. “I’ve discovered I have a son. I learned of it a few months ago. This was a pleasant surprise and I welcome it. It’s Tommy.”

Loud exclamations rose from the table as all eyes swung to Tommy, sitting to Liam’s left.

“It’s true,” Tommy agreed. “My mum told me before she died. My name going forward will be Thomas Clahane Hallahan.” He looked at Liam. “If that’s all right.”

Liam smiled. “Aye, lad. It’s more than all right. I would be proud if you took my name.”

“Good heavens,” Enya declared. “This is like the plot of a play I saw once.”

Light laughter rippled about the table.

“One of those overwrought potboilers, eh, Enya?” Liam teased. “And we all know about pots boiling, yeah?” The laughter grew louder.

Celia’s eyes grew wet. This was the Liam she knew existed deep down—warm, giving, occasionally teasing. He’d finally accepted everything life had thrown in his path. Would he accept her now? Would he accept their growing feelings for each other?

“Everyone tuck in,” Liam urged. “The food’s getting cold. I know I only mentioned it this morning, but does anyone have any names for me, possibly new employees?”

Bruce raised his hand. “I do, Liam. My cousin just started working for the Met Police, and his initial wages aren’t enough to keep him, his wife, and their baby comfortable. He wants to know if he can work in the pub three nights a week. He works days with the coppers. I went around and saw him earlier.”

“Fiona? When are the busiest nights?” Liam asked as he cut into the fishcakes.

“Well, Friday and Saturday, for sure. And Wednesday for some reason,” Fiona answered.