Page 54 of Sweet Siren
"All of that?" She waschuckling.
"When did you learn how to cook? Did you do it when you weremarried?"
"Oh, no. Ladies do not cook. Or I didn't. David would not have allowedit."
"He restricted you? Fromcooking?"
"Ah," she said and raised a finger in the air. "A viscountess does not cook. She has staff. A cook and a scullery maid. A kitchen big as a stable. No, when I became Lady Savage I did not cook and I missed it. I'd done it, you see, when things turned sour at home when I was young. Before I was married. And I—" She came full stop, staring athim.
"You cooked for your parents?"Unusual.What did she mean, 'when things turnedsour'?
"I did. My father lost his income. We were quite without funds. He was...inconsolable. My mother was...undone. She took to her bed and took her bottle of laudanum withher."
"Liv!"
"Oh, don't be sad. She'd always been moody. It was easy for me to take charge of one housemaid and I became the cook. When I was a child I'd spent so much time in the kitchen that returning to one, alone in peace and quiet, was a boon." She gave him a whimsical smile. "I was an only child and knew how to amuse myself in the kitchen, in my father's library or at the piano. I learned early the difference between being alone and beinglonely."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I’m conjuring up awfulmemories."
"I don't mind recalling my past...or most of the time, I don't." She rallied, straightening her back against the squabs. She concentrated on the scenery. "You've reminded me of what I had to learn, what I had to endure. In times of peace, it's important to remember when you were in turmoil. When things were difficult and people were...unhappy. The past gives you perspective andhope."
He liked her positive attitude. "I agree. My own childhood was poor. Ireland then was no place for man or beast. Maybe it still isn't. My sister was rabid to leave. She saved her wages just to put us on a ship to America. And we both prospered. She waited tables in a pub near the docks of Baltimore and she made me go toschool."
"I wondered how you became educated. How you went from a scrapper in the streets and lost your Irish brogue and learned about the sea and trade andrailroads."
"It helps to be curious. I was. School fed my jumpy mind." Newspapers had made him famous. Gossip made him notorious. The first printed the truth. The last elaborated lies. For a woman to hear of his reputation seemed unusual, but Liv was in business herself, albeit it was true she was a noblewoman. "You had heard I was a boy from the streets,eh?"
She nodded. "I did. Many marvel at how you've done so very wellfinancially."
"And socially?" He snorted, mocking himself. "I know many don't care forme."
"Ignore gossips," she saidvehemently.
He frowned at her. "You pay them no mind? Thegossips?"
"I try notto."
That didn't make sense. Why was she concerned about being seen with him if she dismissed those who toldtales?
"But sometimes,” she said with sorrow lining her brow, “I fail. But I tell myself they’re mean. Of you? They're only jealous of your success. Or must compare themselves to feel superior. My father was like that. A needy man. Troubled. My mother, too. Looking for approval from those who couldn't give her the time of day. Did you likeschool?"
"I did." He pushed away his concern about her conflicting emotions. "I was all boy. Wanting to be out, dicing, fighting. So I hated a classroom at first. But when I skipped, my sister'd catch me and haul me right back by the ear. I learned to love my lessons and my sister's demands Ilearn."
"And where is she now?America?"
"She died more than fifteen years ago. But she had the good life she deserved, married to a man who was worthy of her. Hard-working and honest, hewas."
"I like to hear of lives well lived," she said on a sigh. "My husband was such a man. He should have lived to a ripe old age. But he learned he had a...condition for which there was no cure. He suffered. So we had only eight yearstogether."
"You misshim."
She met his gaze, and it took her a minute to respond. "He had his...foibles. But he was a fine man. So different fromyou."
That stung. He tried to ignore it, butcouldn't.
She recoiled. "I didn't mean to be rude, Killian. Please don't take it thatway."
He tried to brush it off. "Tell me how he wasdifferent."
