“As you know, there’s no secrets in Crabbett Close. Even if something is told in confidence, it never stays that way. Things always get out, and to that I’ll add that no one in this close would take that information and do anything but good with it.”
She had no idea where he was going with this conversation, but she nodded. Taking another bite, she wondered if it would be rude to finish this piece and take another. There were two left on the plate.Had Bud and Mr. Dumple already eaten?
“I have some salve for your hand.”
“P-pardon?” She coughed on the last corner of toast she’d just swallowed.
Bud hit her on the back, and Mr. Greedy nudged her tea forward.
“There now, you’ll forgive me. I should have spoken to you in private,” he said.
“If this is about why she’s always wearing gloves, you’ll be doing me a favor, too, as I’ve wondered why,” Bud said, standing with her hands on her hips and looking at Eliza—or more importantly her hands.
“I don’t like to talk about it.”
“We’ve all got some things we hold close to our chest,” Mr. Greedy said. “But Mungo said that sometimes your hand pains you. He mentioned seeing you scratching or rubbing it often.”
When had he spoken to Mr. Greedy? The thought both warmed and horrified her. Did everyone in this household know what had happened to her and her family?
“I’m right sorry about the fire and losing your parents, Eliza,” Benjamin said solemnly. “I lost my sister when I was young. It still hurts to think about her.”
“How old was she?” She could see Bud and Mr. Dumple in her periphery, but her attention remained on Benjamin. Younger than her, but only just, she’d not had a lot to do with him, but they were now aware that they shared a loss so deep, it had changed the course of their lives.
“Ten.”
“I’m so sorry.” He reached across the table to pat her gloved hands.
“Most suffer loss at some stage, but the both of you were so young that takes a while to heal, if it ever does completely,” Mr. Greedy said. “Now, if you’ve no wish to show me, then that’s all right, but I made up a batch of this.” He held out the small pot. “It will stop the itching and loosen up the skin. It would help greatly if I saw your hand, Eliza, to ensure this is what you need.”
She looked at the concerned faces of the people she’d not known long but already felt like family to her. Eliza didn’t show people her hand. It wasn’t shame, but the pity she saw on the faces of those she did show had stopped her from doing so again.
“Courage, my girl. Fear is only a shadow—you need not bow to it.”
Her father had said these words to her often when she was a child.
“You move to this chair, now, Benjamin, and I can take a look at Eliza’s hand,” Mr. Greedy said, regaining his feet.
Eliza slowly peeled off the glove on her left hand as Mr. Greedy took Benjamin’s seat, keeping her eyes on what she was doing and not the looks on the faces of those around her. Once she was done, she dropped the glove into her lap and made herself look up.
Benjamin was eating toast, and Bud was slicing more bread. Mr. Dumple came closer and patted her on the head before returning to whatever he’d been doing.
“These scars tell me of your bravery, Eliza,” Mr. Greedy said as he opened the small pot. He scooped some out with his finger and dropped it onto the hand. “You’ll bear with me now, as there may be a little discomfort, but we need to loosen it up. This will help with the tightness and aching, and I’ve some exercises I want you to do.”
She didn’t let people touch her like this, but as his fingers worked over her hand, surprisingly, she felt herself relax. Well, her body did, anyway. Her head was still whirling.
“Our Mr. Greedy has a touch of magic about him when he heals,” Bud said.
“You need to do this every day. Morning and night would be best, Eliza.”
She nodded, mesmerized by the way he touched her skin with reverence, as if it wasn’t ugly.
“They’re wanting more bloody tea.”
The deep voice had Eliza looking over her shoulder as Mungo walked in and took all the remaining air in the room.
“Hello, Mungo. How is Calder holding up?” Mr. Greedy said, still massaging her hand. He’d turned it over now and was working on the palm.
“As well as can be expected, considering” was the curt reply.
