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He nodded.
“I’m Credence. I own the place. Well, my brother does—in accordance with the law.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Lachlan said and watched her set the bowl in front of him. It smelled divine. Game roasted on sticks in an open fire had its place, but this. “Your hospitality is appreciated.”
She harrumphed a sound. “Don’t go thinking I’m offering charity. I’ll put you to work to earn your keep unless you’ve got the coin to cover it?” Her smile was bright and welcoming, reaching her dark eyes, making them warm.
He grinned. “Fair enough. I’m very obliged.”
“Now, tonight notwithstanding, most of your meals you’ll take in the kitchen with Mrs. Barnwell. Bunking with Trevis will do. Got anything you’re good at?”
Lachlan had to think about it. What had he been trained to do besides lead a country? He swallowed. He could do many things, but most of them showcased skills that weren’t particularly useful.
“Never mind,” Credence said. “There’s plenty of work to be done, regardless.”
“Miss Credence?” a voice interrupted.
Lachlan looked up at a pretty woman with sleek dark hair and dark brown eyes. She leaned close to Credence and spoke quietly. Lachlan’s mind compelled him to look away, his gaze sliding back to his stew. His mouth watered, and he picked up his spoon.
“Trevis,” Credence said. “You accompany Jessamine and bring Scarlett–”
Trevis jumped up, and Lachlan watched him move as the woman he had to remind himself had just been speaking with Credence followed Trevis through the dim room toward the main doorway. Lachlan had the urge to look away and did, focusing on his food once more and wondered what he’d just been doing.
Credence’s hand was on his shoulder. “Eat up, Ollie. The Fareviews will be here soon, and I have a feeling it might be a long night.” She moved across the room to help a blond man sitting in the corner booth.
As Lachlan was finishing his second helping, the door opened. A woman walked in, a dark blue cloak around her shoulders, a satchel in her hand. She pushed the hood back and her eyes scanned the room. Her gaze stalled on the blond man, who dipped his chin in her direction. Then her head turned, taking in the rest of the room, stopping at him before moving on. When Trevis appeared at her side, Lachlan knew this was Scarlett, Tarley’s mother.
With efficient steps—so much like Tarley—Scarlett crossed the room to the bar. “Credence?” she asked Horance, who nodded toward the back with his large head. Horance, Lachlan had learned in the hour he’d been sitting at the table, was a man of few words.
It wasn’t but a few minutes later that Tarley appeared, followed by what Lachlan knew must be her family. She wasn’t in her boy’s disguise, and instead of the braids she’d hid under a hat, her hair was pulled back at her nape, loosely tied with a ribbon. She was wearing a dress, a dark color with white splotches. Lachlan didn’t care much about the details except seeing her made his chest warm.
He stood.
Tarley froze when her eyes met his.
His chest compressed, making it difficult to draw a breath, which was ridiculous. She’d rejected him. And though they’d just been together hours earlier, he wasn’t sure why he felt as if he hadn’t seen her in eons. That the world hadn’t moved in the proper direction since.
He offered her a smile and hoped for one in return, though he wasn’t sure why. She rarely bestowed them. Instead of a smile, however, there was something strange about the way she was looking at him. It was soft, somehow, and reflective, as if she’d unlocked a treasure she was planning to share with him and him alone.
“Miss Fareview!” A voice cut the moment. Everyone in the dining room whirled at the sound toward its owner—the blond man, who’d been sitting in the corner.
Lachlan watched Tarley’s body go rigid. It wasn’t subtle. Where her gaze had been… easy, now she frowned. She ignored the man and walked toward Lachlan. There was something altogether satisfying about watching her move toward him rather than another man who obviously knew her. Lachlan had the impression that he and Tarley were involved in a game of wills, and this move—whatever it was—was setting up the rest of the game in his favor. He smiled at the thought.
“This way,” Credence said from a doorway behind Lachlan.
“I need to speak with you,” Tarley told him quietly and reached down to grab his empty dish.
He took it back from her. “Should I be worried?”
Her eyes skipped around his features before she looked away. “Of course not.”
“Fareviews! Mr. Fareview? Might I have a word?” the blonde man called after them, scooting out from the bench seat where he’d been seated.
Tarley whirled and looked at a tall man, who had a very strong resemblance to Mattias. “No, Papa,” she whispered, then turned to the other man. “Evening, Mr. Rufus.” She dipped into a quick curtsy. “We have something to attend.” Then she herded Lachlan in front of her Credence, who stepped aside to allow their group into the kitchen.
“Doctor. It’s Doctor.” But his voice faded as they disappeared through a hallway, leaving him behind.
“A bit pretentious,” someone said.
