In the Company of Secrets (30 page)
Several hours later Olivia was bent over one of the chopping tables slicing onions, with thoughts of her talk with Eddie still fresh in her mind. While Eddie suffered the consequences of his wrongdoings, she continued her life of lies without the slightest penalty. Even Chef René had been willing to overlook her deceitful behavior. The pungent smell of the onions drifted upward, and she blinked several times to ease the stinging in her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them on the sleeve of her white jacket.
Without warning, a hand grasped her shoulder. Startled, she lost her grip on the knife and jumped backward as it spiraled to the floor. Mr. Howard stood by her side with the knife lying beside his foot. She gasped. The blade had barely missed plunging into his shiny black shoe.
Heart racing, she leaned down and picked up the knife. ‘‘I’m
so
sorry. I could have wounded you.’’
‘‘You’ve already wounded me, Olivia.’’ He whispered the words into her ear. Then, speaking loud enough for all to hear, he instructed her to join him in Chef René ’s office for a meeting. Why today? Hadn’t the incident with Eddie been enough to set her nerves on edge? Now a meeting with Mr. Howard.
She followed along, wondering how she had possibly wounded Mr. Howard. Granted, the knife had come close, but it hadn’t done any more than touch the sole of his shoe. Once he closed the door, she again offered an apology, but he held up his hand.
He beckoned her toward one of the chairs. ‘‘Please, no more. You’ve already apologized, and I’m not injured in the least.’’
She removed her toque and sat down. ‘‘But you said I’d wounded you.’’
‘‘Perhaps I should have spoken more plainly. You’ve wounded my heart, Olivia, not my foot.’’
She swallowed hard. Was he going to speak of his earlier marriage proposal? From beneath an errant curl that had come to rest above her left eye, she peeked at the door. How she wished she could bolt down the hallway and back to the kitchen. But she couldn’t—not without Mr. Howard’s permission. So she clutched the chair arms and waited to hear what he had to say.
‘‘I was disappointed when I saw you in Chicago with Mr. DeVault.’’ He leaned back into the thick padding of Chef René ’s chair. ‘‘Especially since you’ve declined my invitations to dinner and the theater. Every day I’ve hoped you would suggest we meet and continue our earlier conversation. Am I such poor company, Olivia?’’
His eyes clouded with sadness, and she considered how lonely he must be without his wife to keep him company each evening. Much like her own, his life had changed without warning. She preferred to spend her free time with Fred, but she hadn’t intended to hurt the man.
She picked at the frayed edge of her cuff. ‘‘You are a fine escort, Mr. Howard. A gentleman in all respects. My refusals were always truthful.’’
He rested his elbows on René ’s desk. ‘‘Then how is it you were able to overcome all obstacles and accompany Mr. DeVault to Chicago?’’
‘‘Fred took care of all the details. He arranged for his mother to care for Morgan and made certain my work schedule didn’t conflict with our departure—all things that made it possible for me to easily accept his offer.’’ She didn’t add that Chef René had given her permission to leave work earlier than usual.
‘‘I see. So will you attend the theater with
me
if I do the same?’’
She now found herself boxed into a tight corner of her own making. How was she to escape? ‘‘I doubt whether Mrs. DeVault would be agreeable to such an arrangement, and except for Charlotte and me, she’s the only person who has cared for the baby.’’
His brows puckered, and he appeared deep in thought for a moment. ‘‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but shortly after Mrs. Hornsby’s unexpected departure, I believe you mentioned the baby was left in Mrs. Rice’s care. If Mrs. DeVault isn’t willing or is unavailable, perhaps Mrs. Rice would be an acceptable alternate. The woman has children of her own, does she not?’’
Olivia thought of Mr. Rice’s angry voice as he hollered at his own children and his impatience when Morgan would cry. ‘‘Possibly. Though I don’t think Mr. Rice likes the idea of extra children in the house. Mrs. Rice only agreed to help when her husband was at work.’’
‘‘Well, I suppose I had best put on my thinking cap and locate a suitable person to care for the lad. I didn’t plan to press you for an answer regarding my marriage proposal, but I do hope you are keeping it under consideration.’’
He said he wasn’t pushing for a response, but she heard the insistent question in his voice. She couldn’t bear to look at him, for his words were filled with a pleading despair that she’d likely see reflected in his eyes. She didn’t want to hurt him any further, yet she couldn’t agree. The silence in the room was deafening. When he finally spoke, it startled her.
‘‘My dear Olivia, you’ll be hard pressed to continue renting the row house with your income. And I doubt if Mrs. DeVault plans to continue caring for Morgan indefinitely.’’ He leaned forward and stretched his arms across the desk. ‘‘Surely you’ve accepted the fact that Mrs. Hornsby is not going to return. She’s abandoned the child and she’s abandoned you. I’m offering you and the child a wonderful future.’’ He sighed. ‘‘Would it be so difficult to love me?’’
She stared at her folded hands and shrugged. ‘‘I’m not an expert in matters of the heart, Mr. Howard, but I would never marry a man unless I truly loved him.’’
‘‘The only way you can discover your feelings is if you and I become better acquainted. And the only way for that to occur is for you to agree to spend time with me. I’m certain I can locate a suitable person to care for Morgan.’’ Mr. Howard pressed his open hands atop the desk and stood.
Olivia considered his statement. ‘‘Please understand that I won’t leave Morgan with anyone I don’t consider capable of offering excellent care. I’d have to be acquainted with the person.’’
She stepped toward the door, surprised when he casually grasped her hand. He turned the knob and escorted her into the hallway.
‘‘Of course. And I admire your commitment to the child.’’ Before releasing her, he brushed a kiss on the back of her hand. ‘‘You might advise Chef René that the Earl and Countess of Lanshire are expected to return on Monday. He may want to make some special dishes during their stay.’’
His news erased the vexation that she’d experienced when he had kissed her hand. ‘‘That’s only a few days away.’’ Her voice sounded like a croaking bullfrog.
‘‘Indeed. But Chef René is accustomed to preparing for royalty. He needs little notice.’’ With a brief wave, he departed using the side door.
She watched out the window until he passed through the iron gates and onward toward the administrative offices. She would talk to Fred and explain what had occurred. Surely he would understand her dilemma and offer sound advice. Of greater concern was the news that Charlotte’s parents were returning. She had secretly hoped they would change their plans and decide against another visit to Pullman. She’d have to keep to the kitchen once they arrived.
As soon as Mr. Howard disappeared from sight, she turned away from the window. She must deliver the news to Chef René .
The chef wasn’t nearly as composed as Mr. Howard had predicted. Moreover, he acted as though the entire idea of the returning nobility was her fault. He banged his pots and pans, barked orders at the staff, and overcooked the fish course, which he then insisted upon re-creating.
When Olivia could take no more, she yanked on his sleeve. ‘‘I didn’t invite them, you know. I’m only relaying the message from Mr. Howard. The kitchen staff is not to blame, either.’’
He plopped his ample body onto a nearby chair. ‘‘Oui, I know it is not your fault, but this makes me angry. I have already planned next week’s meals for the hotel guests. With nobility here, the menu will need to be changed. I cannot serve them the normal fare.’’ His heavy jowls wobbled as he shook his head in disgust. ‘‘We will be prepared when they arrive, but it will take extra work. I’ll need your assistance completing the menus, and you’ll go to the Market Building tomorrow to alert the merchants.’’
While the rest of the kitchen staff prepared to depart, Olivia jotted down notes of the chef ’s preliminary ideas of what he would prepare and what tasks must be completed prior to preparation of the first meal. Of course, neither of them knew exactly when the earl and countess would arrive. They didn’t expect the guests before breakfast on Monday, but they needed to be prepared in any event.
Though she knew Chef René wanted to continue planning, Fred was likely pacing back and forth outside, wondering when she would appear. ‘‘Please, Chef René , could we continue this in the morning? I must get home to the baby.’’
He sighed and waved. ‘‘Go on then. I’ll work on this by myself, but be prepared for a full day of work tomorrow.’’
‘‘I’ll plan to stop by the Market on my way to work and tell the vendors you must have their full cooperation with fruits, vegetables, and cuts of meat.’’
‘‘Non. Wait until later in the morning, after we have decided upon the menus. And you may need to come in on Sunday after your church meeting.’’
She wanted to shout she couldn’t possibly work on Sunday afternoon, for she would be spending her afternoon with Fred and Morgan, enjoying a stroll in the park if the weather permitted. Instead, she suggested they work in earnest so they could complete their tasks on Saturday. ‘‘That way we can both attend church.’’
‘‘The food—that is what is important, Miss Mott.’’
‘‘Indeed, I read in the Bible that Jesus is the bread of life. Maybe going to church would be the best thing to help us with this food situation.’’
He waved her toward the door. ‘‘I don’t need you sending me to church, Miss Mott. As a little boy in France, my mother made sure I lit my share of altar candles. Now off with you, or I’ll put you back to work.’’
Olivia scurried out the door before he could change his mind. Descending the steps and rounding the corner, she wondered what Chef René had looked like as a little boy lighting church candles. The thought made her grin.
Fred’s collar was turned up against the cool evening air. ‘‘I was about to come inside and see if you’d left without me.’’
She laughed and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, enjoying the warmth and safety she always felt when she was near him. ‘‘Problems concerning the arrival of guests next week.’’
While they walked, she explained about the Earl and Countess of Lanshire and Chef René ’s worries. But she didn’t mention her meeting with Mr. Howard, his marriage proposal, or his invitation to the theater. In spite of her lateness, Fred’s mood was lighthearted, and she didn’t want to spoil their time together. There would be time to talk about Mr. Howard later.
Suddenly she came to an abrupt halt. ‘‘I nearly forgot to tell you what happened this morning.’’
Fred listened attentively while she explained the incident with Eddie. She didn’t mention she’d given him money, only that she’d taken pity upon him.
‘‘I know what you did was kind, Olivia. But I wonder if Eddie would have been so kind had Mr. Rice not come to your rescue.’’
She shrugged. ‘‘We’ll never know. But I no longer fear him, and I’ll no longer have to be looking over my shoulder when you’re not around to protect me.’’
‘‘Wanting to get rid of me as your evening escort, are you?’’
‘‘No. Of course not. I’d find it most pleasing if you continued to meet me after work.’’ Surely he must realize how much she cared for him.
‘‘Just the answer I was hoping for.’’ When they reached the front of the house, he stopped and faced her, then cupped her face between his hands and lightly kissed her lips.
The staff had nearly completed serving breakfast Monday morning when Chef René blustered into the kitchen. ‘‘They’ve arrived! Mr. Beelings informs me they prefer to have their noonday meal in the private dining room. This is good news!’’
Olivia understood his meaning: they needed to prepare the special dishes only for the earl and countess. Something of a more simple nature would be offered to the remaining hotel guests. As for the staff, the report signaled less drudgery in the kitchen and the probability that their workdays would end on schedule. For Olivia, it decreased the likelihood she would encounter her former employers. She could only hope the earl and countess would continue the practice during their entire stay.
‘‘Did Mr. Billings report how long the earl and countess intend to remain in Pullman?’’
‘‘Non! They said at least three days, but who can tell with nobility? Unlike us, they can come and go at their pleasure.’’
She knew that was true enough, but she also recalled that the countess disliked being away from home for long periods. During Olivia’s employment at Lanshire Hall, the couple had always returned from their sojourns within six weeks. She could only hope the countess hadn’t changed her perspective. The sooner they departed, the better for all concerned.
Morgan’s eyelids fluttered and then drooped as he finished his bottle. He was a beautiful child, and Olivia had become much too fond of him. She’d tried hard to remain detached, but it was proving an impossible task. She kissed his soft cheek and settled him in his cradle. She was looking forward to relaxing with a good book after a second day of catering to the demands of the earl and countess.
