But nothing about this situation was normal. And Bess was not ashamed of who she was. She never had been, and she did not intend to begin now.
“I’m sorry if you feel I misled you,” she said plainly. “I know generally how to carry myself and speak as a lady; I had lessons when I was very young, on a neighboring estate. I was friends with one of the boys and it was thought I might be a calming influence on his troublemaking ways. And of course, I read quite a lot. But I never actually claimed to be a lady.”
“I don’t care about that,” he said, dismissing Bess’s entire background with an arrogant tilt to his chin. “I want to know what happened with your aunt.”
A little stunned, Bess blinked at him. Well. Perhaps it made sense. After all, why would he care about the birth and breeding of the woman he tumbled in the back room of a tavern? He didn’t know it was the same woman to whom he’d entrusted the care of his sister.
“My aunt is a good woman. No nonsense. My uncle had passed on years before and my aunt kept up the farm all on her own, with her children’s help.”
“And with your help.”
“She needed me. Then a few years ago, one of her daughters married a well-off shopkeeper and invited her to come live with them. I think they would’ve had me, too, but it seemed a lot to ask of a man I’d only ever met at his wedding, to take me in.”
He frowned. “But that left you with no place to go. Again.”
“Again, I was lucky. A friend of mine needed help, and I found work and purpose and a way to support myself.” She took a deep breath. “I’m a cook, you see. I serve food for a living. In a country pub.”
Everything became clear in an instant.
A cook. Who knew his sisters well.
Even with the sparse details she offered, Nathaniel could put the pieces together.
Bess must work at Five Mile House in Little Kissington, the inn Nathaniel’s father had gifted to his new wife, Henrietta, upon their marriage, as a romantic gesture signifying they would never be more than five miles apart from each other for the rest of their lives.
It was the only property Nathaniel had allowed his stepmother to retain possession of once he came into the title. And it was there that he’d made his last, ill-fated attempt to bring his sisters to heel.
He’d stood in the taproom of that ramshackle village pub to tell Gemma what a disgrace she was…and all along, Bess had been there, in the kitchen, just out of sight.
Nathaniel could hardly believe it. Sitting here beside her now, so attuned to every breath she took, every beat of her heart—he couldn’t credit it.
Surely, he would have sensed her if she’d been that near to him. Even before they’d ever met.
But he hadn’t. He’d missed her. And now here they were, embroiled in this ludicrous situation with no way out that he could see, because he knew damned well she never would have told him any of that if she had any inkling of who he was.
He had to say something. She was waiting.
Tensely, he noted, taking in her rigid posture and the way her upper body leaned slightly away from him. As though she was worried about his reaction.
Nathaniel was forced to admit to himself that there was a time when he would have been appalled. When his only thought would have been concern for his family’s name and the damage it would do it to be involved with a woman of Bess’s class.
But it was impossible to sit with Bess, to speak with her, to know her—and to think of her as being lesser than himself.
She was all. She was everything. Nathaniel had never known a deeper truth.
Bess’s origins mattered not one whit to her worth as a person. Knowing her had changed everything Nathaniel thought he knew about the world, about what was important.
She was what mattered.
Thinking about everything she’d said, Nathaniel studied her. “Your aunt needed you, so you gave up your dreams and stayed on the farm. And when she left, a friend needed you, so you went to work in a kitchen.”
“I love what I do. I love the people, I love to cook. It’s hard work sometimes, but it feels good to know I’m nourishing people—not only their bellies, but their spirits too. Good food can do that, I think. It’s good, honest work.”
“I would never imply otherwise. My only point is that up until now, you have been living the exact opposite of the life you said you wanted: hemmed in by expectations and lived at someone else’s whim.”
“I’ll never become accustomed to the way you listen to me,” Bess said, her voice a little thick with some emotion. “You have a point. Though I love my job, I fell into it a bit as a favor to a friend. But it’s a good life. It’s only recently that I’ve begun to think about—to want—something more. Something just for me. A little adventure.”
It rose up in him again, the desire to promise her whatever she wanted that was in his power to give. But perhaps he was already giving her everything she needed from him.
