Chapter Seven
The Kitchen
The galley door swung open to the noisy clatter of pots and pans, and the chatter of kitchen staff preparing for the large party within. Delicious smells of sautéed garlic and onion, baking pies and simmering sauces wafted out to them. A large bosomed woman with frizzy orange hair stood in the doorway wiping her brow, looking at Lillian with surprise.
"Oh my Lord in heaven, if it isn't little Lily Gower! Come in my girl! To what do we owe this pleasure?"
"Martha," Lillian began, smiling at the kind woman she had known as a child as they made their way into the inviting warmth. "We were hoping you could help us. You see, we need a compress for my friend, Mr Boyd's hand."
"Should I ask what for? No, no, better not I think." She winked, and showed them to a wooden table near the hearth. They took seats opposite each other as Martha called out to one of the maids to fetch a cold compress for Lucas.
"I remember Lily you was always runnin' round 'n gettin' under our feet when we was preparing our fancy dinners for the master. Now look at yer! Look how you've blossomed! You're as fine a woman as I ever saw. Just like her beautiful ma, ain't she Beth?" She yelled over her shoulder to Beth, an old woman with a face like a shrivelled sultana at a bench chopping carrots at frightening speed. Beth nodded without taking her eyes off the blurring knife.
"Well look at me sittin' here blabberin' on when we've got guests! Let me fetch you something to drink." She left, returning shortly after with two glasses of red wine and a cold compress. "It ain't the master's best, but it's all we had in here."
Martha wound the compress expertly around Lucas' hand. "My boys were always getting into scuffles when they were younger; you're lucky I've had practice eh? Now Lily, you're going to have to hold this down here until I get back." Martha hurried off into the busy kitchen.
Lillian felt awkward leaning over the table, her hand on Lucas' bandage, painfully conscious of their proximity.
Lucas cleared his throat. "So Miss Gower..." he began, eager to clear the tension between them.
"You may call me Lillian," She interrupted, "or Lily, if you like. I think defending my honour deserves at least that privilege, Mr Boyd." She averted her eyes, blushing.
"Very well... Lily, then you may call me Lucas."
"Lucas..." A warmth went through her at the feel of his name on her lips. She smiled. "You were saying?"
"Oh, yes." He shook his head minutely, tearing away his gaze that had become fixed on her smiling lips. "I was merely going to enquire as to how long you have known the Lindsays."
"Oh, well my father's friendship with them preceded my birth... so my whole life really."
He shook his head slowly. "You have really had to endure Arabella for that long?"
Lillian laughed. "I suppose she has been like a younger sister to me; albeit a spoilt, much richer, younger sister..." Lucas smiled. "She has changed recently though. I'm worried her mother is trying to make her grow up too fast. Just a few months ago she was still an endearing child, but now..."
"I have only met her once before this, when she was a small child, so I cannot say if she has changed; but I would not worry too much. The child shines through often enough." He said with a glint in his eye.
Lillian did not know if it was the red wine, the boisterous atmosphere of the kitchen or the warm fire; but after a time her uneasiness was forgotten; a content glow settling around her. Quite without meaning to, and against her initial judgments, she fell into an easy, comfortable banter with the man sitting opposite.
In this delicious haze she began to notice things about him that she had not cared to before; the look on his face when she spoke, like he was carefully considering every word; the intensity of his icy blue eyes as they gazed unflinchingly into hers; the way his smile shined like a ray of sun peeking through an overcast sky, always surprising her with its beauty; and how a man, who had at first seemed to her so apathetic and reserved, was suddenly taking her breath away with his warmth and gentleness.
Lucas in turn marvelled at his proximity to this woman. He had outright avoided all contact with the fairer sex ever since... his last tragic encounter. He had first thought her to be just like the rest of them, frivolous and vain, but even then there was something inexplicable about her that had pulled him in. She was very pretty of course, but it was something else; some depth and integrity that was lacking in the others.
Martha watched them, loath to interrupt the romance blossoming right before her eyes, but she was too busy to play cupid that evening and so shooed them out of the kitchen before dinner began.
