Free Desire Me Now by Tiffany Clare Page B

the
     way. You shouldn’t expect anyone to reveal a past best left forgotten.”
    “I will heed your warning.”
    After showing Amelia where the linens, larder, pantry, and storage areas were located,
     she was shown the housekeeper’s office and the place the men, including her son, bedded
     down at night, in the event that Mr. Riley ever needed to get a message out at an
     odd time of day.
    When they entered the servants’ hall once again, everyone had cleared away the items
     they’d been working on so Olive could set out bowls for the midday meal. A pot of
     stew and two loaves of bread were placed at one end of the old wood table, which was
     almost as large as the room and could probably seat twenty. The food’s aroma wafted
     to Amelia’s nose and smelled divine as she ladled thick chunks of lamb, carrots, and
     potatoes into her bowl.
    As everyone took their seats to eat, conversation started on the gossip around town.
     While this was no different than the talk around the table at her last place of employment,
     there was one thing that Amelia noted almost immediately. Talk was focused on the
     people who had regular dealings with Mr. Riley or his businesses.
    The servants were pooling their information together from what the housekeeper had
     heard from the shopkeepers during her morning errands at various shops; the maids
     revealed what they’d heard from the coal deliverer. All the while, Huxley wrote key
     points down in a small leather notebook he carried in his pocket. He didn’t write
     down everything, just a handful of names. She wondered if she would have to do this
     as Mr. Riley’s secretary—gather gossip and apprise him of it.
    Between mouthfuls, Jenny said, “While Baker’s son was doing his usual deliveries to
     the lords’ and ladies’ houses this morning, he stumbled across Sir Ian Hemming in
     the street. He was in a bad way, with his face right bloody and broken from a good
     beating. Baker wanted to fetch the bobbies, he did, but Hemming’s valet convinced
     him all was fine. Took him—well, practically carried him—inside.”
    Amelia’s spoon stilled between her bowl and her mouth. Her breath felt frozen in her
     lungs. Sir Ian had been hurt. She swallowed against the nervous lump forming in her
     throat. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of that vile man. Wasn’t it this morning
     that Mr. Riley told her that he had close ties to the employment agency? Her head
     spun as she thought of the painful-looking bruises she’d spied on Mr. Riley’s knuckles
     only a few hours ago.
    Could he have . . . Would he dare . . .
    She brushed her fingers over her cheek where Sir Ian had hit her.
    Amelia set her spoon down, unable to eat another bite. Her head was spinning with
     questions that couldn’t be answered, questions she couldn’t put voice to. But she
     needed to know the truth. Needed to know if Mr. Riley was somehow involved. Why would
     he do that for her?
    “Did the baker find out what happened to Sir Ian?” Amelia asked, and all eyes turned
     toward her soft-spoken question.
    Huxley’s pencil stilled over the paper as his eyes met hers. She could see the questions
     burning there, but he didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure if she’d said something wrong
     or if that was not a question they cared to answer. All Amelia knew was that Mr. Riley
     had saved her from a fate she didn’t want to contemplate. But she reminded herself
     that Mr. Riley was not a peer of the realm. He could not be protected if he hurt someone
     above his station.
    Not wanting to examine too deeply why she felt compelled to protect him, she focused
     on the fact that she owed him for his kindness.
    “I have never heard of such a thing happening. Not without provocation. And even then
     . . . ” She hoped that the curious inflection coating her voice would appease those
     around her as explanation of why she asked about that evil man’s welfare.
    Did everyone know how awful Sir Ian was?