“Gaw! You look awful.”
“Miss Darby.” Henry tried to sit up, but the blows to his ribs were taking their toll. He propped himself up on one elbow. “Thank you. You, on the other hand, look very well.”
Color flushed to her cheeks, only improving her appearance. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean that your looks aren’t pleasing. Just that you look so much worse than I expected.”
Jane stifled a laugh.
“Mr. Hardwick said you’d run into some trouble. But look at you.”
Henry did. He glanced down and, at the same moment, had the vague recollection he’d thrown off his shirt sometime in the middle of the night because it was irritating his wounds. He pulled the blanket up.
“Miss Darby,” Jane said. “Let’s you and I go make some breakfast. Henry can meet us in the kitchen when he’s ready.”
Miss Darby nodded and followed Jane out of his room.
Henry laid his head back on his pillow. Ouch. His body hurt. And he was famished.
Hardwick had obviously informed Miss Darby of his skirmish last night. He prayed the man hadn’t mentioned the reason behind the beating. Miss Darby knew nothing of his father’s situation, and he dearly wanted to keep it that way.
He washed his face and combed his hair, doing his best to avoid the mirror. After donning only stockings and a tunic, he abandoned the effort altogether. Already he’d kept Miss Darby waiting near half an hour.
The smell of toasted bread and bacon lured him from his room. He put on his dressing robe and shuffled to the kitchen.
Jane was fast asleep on the soft chair in the corner, curled up like a baby. The table was laid with a breakfast unlike any he’d seen since his mother died. Nothing smelled burnt. Nothing seemed of questionable origin. He looked at Miss Darby.
“She was exhausted. I made her sit, and she fell asleep right away.” Miss Darby poured Henry a cup of steaming tea. “I could see right off that her pan was smoking. She were burning the eggs. That’s when I sent her away. Also, you’d best take care. I think there’s a ham in the pantry what’s gone off.”
He did not doubt it. Henry loaded his plate with eggs, toast, bramble preserves, bacon, and some kind of dark treacle cake that smelled of ginger. “I can’t believe I slept so late.”
“I’m glad you did.” Miss Darby spoke quietly. “Gives me a chance to make amends for all your kindness to me and Susie. Besides, Mr. Hardwick says a late breakfast is all the crack in London.”
“Well, I suppose it’s all right, then.” Henry tucked into his plate of food. “This cake is delicious.”
“Thank you.” Miss Darby grinned. “It’s parkin. A specialty from the north. I made it myself.”
“I didn’t know you were a cook.”
“I don’t have many talents, but I do know my way round a kitchen.” She put another piece of parkin on Henry’s plate. “Sometimes Cook lets me use her kitchen. She don’t like it much though. Says it’s no place for a lady.”
Cook was right. But Miss Darby had yet to consider herself a lady. She’d been raised a shipping merchant’s daughter, and in her mind, it seemed that was what she would always be. Thus far, her new circumstances hadn’t changed her—at least not the heart of her. Henry hoped they never would.
“Cooking and stone throwing. You are very accomplished indeed.” If the Ton didn’t appreciate Miss Darby’s particular set of aptitudes, he certainly did.
Dark wisps of hair strayed from her topknot, falling across her forehead and down her neck. She never could keep them in place. Her eyes gleamed like the Aegean sea. Not that he’d ever been there, but Walter Kelton had. He never stopped talking about the color of the water. Henry imagined it the exact shade of Charlotte’s eyes. Er, Miss Darby’s.
“More tea?” she asked.
Henry nodded.
She tipped the teapot and filled his cup, then poured in a speck of cream. She held it out to him. He reached for it, his hand brushing along her fingers. Already they were softer than that first day back in Hull.
She quickly pulled her hand away.
He’d done it again. Would he never learn? She was his employer. Superior to him in both station and situation. Not to mention Hardwick’s hold on her.
“Thank you,” he said.
Another knock on the front door echoed down the hallway. Jane stirred but fell back asleep. Henry got to his feet. His body moved a little better now that it had loosened up. He jerked open the door and then groaned.
“Morland,” Hardwick said in his buckskin breeches and perfectly cut coat. “I’m surprised to see you up and about.”
Henry swung the door wider. “May as well come in.”
Hardwick stepped across the threshold.
“Allow me to thank you properly for your aid last night.” Henry shook his hand. “I mean that most sincerely. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t happened along. I’m indebted to you, sir.”
Hardwick nodded. “Think nothing of it.”
“You find us a bit behind schedule this morning.” Henry tightened the ropes of his dressing robe. “We’re just finishing breakfast in the kitchen.”
Normally Henry would never receive callers in the back of the house. Today, he didn’t care.
Miss Darby had the table cleared of all but the tea and parkin. A task no proper lady would ever consider. “Mr. Hardwick.” She tried again to tuck her hair back where it belonged.
Jane woke with a start. She leapt to her feet and looked from Hardwick to Miss Darby, then back to Hardwick. “I’ll fetch the water,” she said and disappeared outside, the bucket still on its hook by the door.
“I don’t mean to intrude, Morland,” Hardwick said. “I just came by to see how you were getting on.” He shuffled his gloves from hand to hand.
“I am well on my way to recovery.”
Hardwick turned to Miss Darby. “I’m off to walk the grove. If you are finished here, your company would be most welcome.”
“Oh. Well.” Miss Darby glanced around the kitchen, her eyes seeming to cover everything except Henry. “I . . . That’s very kind.” She tucked her basket in the crook of her elbow. With a quick bow to Henry, she stepped to Hardwick’s side.
“Let me know if you need anything, Morland,” Hardwick said. “We’ll see ourselves out.”
Through the kitchen window, the figures of Hardwick and Miss Darby vanished behind the tall elms. Jane was nowhere to be seen. Henry took the plate of parkin and went back to his bed.