Sarah Mallory - The Highborn Housekeeper

Thoresby stepped back and gave a little bow. ‘If you are ready, ma’am, Mrs Yelland and I will serve dinner immediately.’

When the man had left them, Gabriel picked up his glass and saluted her. ‘I am greatly in your debt, Mrs Hopwood.’

‘It is no more than any Christian would do. I could not leave you to perish in the cold.’

‘Come, madam, you have done so much more than that. Not only did you save my life, but for the past several days you have helped to nurse me and yet, Thoresby tells me, you have never once pressed him for an explanation.’ He looked at her, a gleam of laughter in his blue eyes. ‘Not many women would have been so forbearing.’

She felt a smile tugging at her mouth.

‘The poor man has lived in fear of my interrogation, but I thought it best to wait until you could tell me everything.’

A sudden draught announced the opening of the door. Hester and Thoresby came in. Nancy watched them, a feeling of pride warming her as she saw the food she had planned and laboured over placed on the table. Gabriel, too, was regarding the array of dishes with blatant appreciation.

‘I fear I have greatly inconvenienced you, madam,’ he remarked. ‘You have had to break your journey. Will that not make people anxious, friends, family?’

‘Robert, my footman, has gone ahead with a message. He is a resourceful fellow and, with a full purse, I have no doubt he found a way to reach his goal. My friends will know I shall be perfectly safe with William Coachman. And there is Hester, too. My companion.’

She smiled up at the older woman, who was setting out the remainder of the dishes on a small side table.

Hester bent an unsmiling gaze upon Nancy and said pointedly, ‘Would you like me to stay, madam?’

‘No, no, we shall serve ourselves, thank you, Hester. Go now and enjoy your own dinner.’ Noting her friend’s hesitation, she added, ‘You may be sure I shall call you if I need you.’

When they were alone Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. ‘Does she fear for your reputation?’

‘Very likely.’ Nancy laughed. ‘I really do not think I have anything to fear from you in your present state. After all, you can barely stand up.’

Again, that glinting smile in his eyes.

‘I might beguile you with my charm and ready wit.’

‘You might try,’ she agreed cordially, accepting another glass of wine from him, ‘but you will not distract me from my reason for agreeing to dine with you.’

‘And that is?’

‘I want an explanation, of course. Why you were attacked, why you are living here with only Mr Thoresby to look after you. He says he is your valet, but he is able to turn his hand to almost anything.’

‘Yes, he is indispensable to me. But before we discuss anything more we should eat,’ he suggested, surveying the table. ‘It looks and smells very inviting. I believe you cooked everything yourself?’

‘With Hester to help me.’

‘Then, pray tell me what we have here.’

‘There is beef brisket, cooked in wine, and stewed mushrooms—I found a jar in the larder, very neatly labelled and dated, for which I am grateful to whomever left it there!—an apple tart and a hash of wild duck from a fine bird that my coachman acquired when he went to buy the vegetables.’ She noted his sudden wariness and added, ‘Pray calm yourself, Mr Shaw. William was very discreet. I sent him to the market in East Markham, rather than Darlton.’

‘What makes you think there is a need for discretion?’

His innocent look did not deceive her. ‘Everything about you!’

He laughed. ‘Very well, we shall discuss that later. For now, let us eat!’

* * *

It was surprisingly enjoyable, dining alone with Gabriel Shaw. She had expected to feel ill at ease, she had certainly intended to keep the man at a distance, but it took only a short time in his company for her to relax and she found herself talking to him as she would to an old friend. Not that she trusted him, of course. She knew nothing about him. But he was good company, he spoke like an intelligent man, and made no attempt to patronise or flirt with her.

He tried most of the dishes, which was gratifying, but he did not eat heartily. Unsurprising, she thought, considering he had only that morning risen from his bed. When he had finished his meal, he pushed away his empty plate.

‘My compliments, madam. The food is excellent. Where did you learn to cook like this?’

‘From a Frenchman. I spent many hours in his kitchen as a child and he thought it better that I should be working than to have me getting in the way.’

He raised his glass to her. ‘Then you proved an apt pupil.’

His praise warmed her, but it also set alarm bells ringing. She must not allow herself to fall for his undoubted charm. Time to make him aware of her menial status.

‘He was an excellent teacher. Cooking is now how I earn my living.’

He sat back, his brows raised in surprise. ‘Yet you have your own carriage and servants.’

‘My employers insisted upon it.’

‘They must think very highly of you to allow you to travel in such style.’

‘Good cooks are difficult to find and even more difficult to keep.’

‘But you were not born a servant, Mrs Hopwood.’

She hesitated. ‘No.’ She gathered up the empty plates and carried them to the side table. ‘I am a widow and must needs make my living where I can.’

He reached out and caught her hand as she passed his chair.

‘This is an expensive wedding ring. Surely your husband made some provision for you?’

Nancy glanced down at the heavy gold band on her finger, a necessary accoutrement for her masquerade as the relict of a wealthy man. Harder to explain on the hand of a poor cook.

‘His death was...unexpected. This is all I have left of him. I could not bear to part with it.’

She felt the weight of guilt growing heavier with every embellishment of her story. It made her uncomfortable to lie to him, she did not want to do it. Her only consolation was that as soon as the road was clear she would leave Dell House and the enigmatic Gabriel Shaw. Mrs Hopwood would disappear for ever and she could once again be plain Miss Nancy.

She was startled to feel such little comfort in the thought. She loved her life at Prospect House, didn’t she? She had her friends there and more than enough work to fill her days. Standing here with this man, this stranger holding her fingers, she suddenly realised why she threw herself into her work each day. It was to tire her, to help her sleep through the lonely nights. She withdrew her hand and returned to her seat.

‘But I did not come here to talk about me.’

‘Ah.’ He refilled the wine glasses. ‘Now we get to it.’

‘Yes. I want to know about you , Mr Gabriel Shaw.’

‘How flattering.’ He sat back and smiled at her. ‘Very well. I am not married, and have no intention of taking a wife. Why limit myself to one woman when I can have a dozen mistresses?’ He added wickedly, ‘So I am quite unattached at the present time, Mrs Hopwood, if that is what you were wondering.’

‘That is not what I meant at all!’ Nancy bit her lip, blushing.

He was teasing her, trying to distract her. She could not allow that. Yet now that the moment had come she did not want to ask him about his business here. She was suddenly afraid that she might not like the answers. But it must be done. Nancy squared her shoulders and looked him in the face.

‘Who are you, Mr Shaw? How do you come to be living here?’

‘I came here from London, to, er, rusticate.’

‘You are running away from some scandal, perhaps?’ It would be a woman, she thought, remembering the jolt of awareness she had experienced when he had caught her hand in his own, strong grasp. With his handsome face and undoubted charm, he was almost irresistible.