Pride be damned.
It was work.
I drew in a steadying breath, squared my shoulders, and pushed open the door.
It smelled of stale ale and that constant stench of rotten fish. A few men already hunched over their drinks, despite the hour, their laughter low and rough. My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to the bar.
Behind it stood a broad-shouldered man with arms like tree trunks, wiping down a mug. His gaze swept over me in a way that made my skin prickle. "Help you?"
Before I could gather the courage to speak, a door to the back swung open, and a woman bustled out carrying a tray of bread. Her hair was streaked with gray, her dress plain, her eyes sharp. But there was a kindness to them. One that gave me hope.
"Tom," she scolded in a sharp British accent, setting a tray down with a thump. "Don't you just glare at the girl. Can't you see she's practically shaking in her boots?"
I swallowed, my throat dry. "I saw the notice outside," I said, voice wavering despite my attempt at faked bravado. "I need work."
The woman looked me over, her eyes narrowing not in suspicion but in thought. "Any experience?"
I could lie. I should have lied.
I didn't. "No, ma'am."
Tom snorted. "She'll not last a night, love."
"Tom," the woman said sharply, smacking his arm with a rag. "When you first met me, I didn't look like much either. She's clearly no tavern wench, but she's neat, polite, and might be just what I need in the kitchen with me." She turned to me. "I'm Bess, this old coot's wife. You've got two hands and a back that can bend, don't you?"
I tried hard to push down the budding hope so as not to get too excited. "Yes, ma'am. Grew up on a farm, and am no stranger to hard work."
"Good. We can use that. You'll start in the kitchen with me, cleaning and learning the ropes in there. I'll keep you in there until we feel you're ready for more. If you'd like, you could sleep upstairs with the other girls, at no extra cost."
Relief crashed over me so suddenly my knees almost buckled. "Thank you. Thank you so much ma'am."
Bess's mouth softened, though she kept her tone brisk. "Don't thank me yet. Work's hard. Hours are long, and the pay's not much. And as you'll be in the back with me, you won't begetting anything extra from the patrons to tide you over either. But it's honest. And better under my eye than in the street. You look like a lost lamb."
I flushed, both at her pity and her perceptiveness. She wasn't wrong.
Tom muttered something about having another mouth to feed, but Bess waved him off. She slid a bowl of stew toward me, steaming and fragrant. "Here. Eat this. And tomorrow is as good a day to start as any. Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
I nodded. "I've paid for my room through the week." I wrapped my hands around the warm bowl, the simple kindness undoing me more than I'd expected.
"Good. If it's decent, I'd suggest you stay there for the time being before being forced to share a room with a bunch of nosy imps that will be all up in your business. And listen to Bess now, dear. You don't have to share anything with them you don't want to, but they're a good lot. A family of sorts."
I smiled before taking a big bite of the flavorful stew. "Thank you, Bess. I was very close to done in, and you've given me fresh hope."
Now I just needed to stop thinking about the men I'd left behind and start focusing on the future I could build for myself.
Chapter Eighteen
A week later, my world had shrunk to the rhythm of the tavern kitchen. I'd been so busy, constantly moving, that I'd had barely a free minute to think of and miss the two men who had turned my world upside down.
It wasn't easy to start off with. I was used to hard work, but this was something different. The heat of the kitchen, the heavy trays of bread and the constant stack of dishes that needed washing were overwhelming, at first. But Bess's sharp voice and the laughter of the other girls in the tavern had made it bearable.
Almost... enjoyable.
I'd survived my first week. More than that, one could almost say I was starting to belong.
Now, standing in the little room I'd started off in, I folded what little I'd brought with me from Eagle's Rest into my valise. I had a moment to think about the new wardrobe I'd used to travel from the Transvaal to Leighton's estate, and then again the new-new one that hadjustbeen ordered when I ran away. The first dresses should be nearly done if Leighton hadn't just cancelled the order after I fled.
But beyond that pang, that insistent ache in my heart there was a thrill of nervous excitement that ran through me at thethought of moving in with the other girls. I might not have gotten on with all of them, but they were for the most part, a hoot.
