I probably looked about as responsive as the manservant by the time we got back to Luc’s apartment. I was stiff, sore, shocked and upset and all I wanted was a hot bath and a cuddle, preferably both at once. One look at Luc’s stony face told me I wasn’t going to get either in a hurry, so I took myself off to the kitchen and stoked up the copper in the scullery.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked from the doorway.
‘Heating water. I want a bath.’ I focused on the coal scuttle with a fierce determination not to cry.
‘Cassie.’ Luc came right into the little whitewashed space and took me by the shoulders.
I yelped. ‘Careful. I’m a mass of bruises.’
‘You said you weren’t hurt.’ He sounded furious.
‘I fell over twice, once on top of that confounded ledger. I’ve fought off a man with a razor who weighs as much as I do and I… I’m upset and a hot bath will make me feel a lot better. So please, go away.’
The sound Luc made came from deep in his chest, choked off almost as soon as it escaped.
‘Lucian?’ He was already turning away, but I caught him by the arm and forced him to look at me. It wasn’t anger I’d been seeing, sensing. He looked as though someone had died. ‘Luc, talk to me. What’s wrong?’
‘What is wrong? I sent you there, by yourself, even though I knew Bromley was in the building. When you are in danger of your life it is Garrick who saves you, not me. You are hurt and distressed and I did not realise how much because I was too busy kicking myself for not foreseeing this, for not protecting you. Now you want nothing to do with me and I understand. I’ll fill that bath for you.’
‘Luc. Shut up.’ I grabbed as much as I could of him and shook. ‘Listen. Leaving me to work on the ledgers alone was the best use of resources and time. None of us realised that Bromley was anything but a shocked, ineffectual bystander. When he attacked me I fought back, as I’d been trained to, and you all came to help me. I don’t need you to look after me, but I value that you do. I don’t blame you for what happened back there – but, please, help me with the bath and afterwards, just hold me. Hold me and don’t let me go.’
He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, long and slow and tender. I knew I was hurting him, with his need to protect me and his confusion over my independence, as much as he hurt me by trying to treat me like a helpless little female. In fact he was probably more distressed. I kissed him back with as much tenderness as he was showing, because that was how I felt.
‘Bath.’ Luc lifted his head at last. The strain that made him look so severe had gone from his face, but the laughter wasn’t back lurking in his eyes yet. It might take a while, I thought.
He took the tub with its high back from the hook on the scullery wall and carried it through to my bedchamber and I ran the first can-full of hot water off the copper, started to pick it up, then left it for him and went to fetch towels instead. With the last can he brought a small bottle and handed it to me. ‘I saw this, thought you might like it.’
‘Mediterranean Nights,’ I read. ‘Oils for the bath.’ When I removed the stopper and poured a few drops into the hot water the room filled with the scents of citrus and roses and something warm, dark and mysterious. ‘This is gorgeous, thank you.’
‘I’m glad you like it.’ He put the soap dish down within reach. ‘I’ll leave you, then.’
‘No. Don’t. Stay please.’ I began to undress and Luc went still in the way I had learned meant he was aroused. ‘You can wash my back.’
This time I had no trouble interpreting the growl. I tossed the gown onto the bed and began to unfasten my stays. Slowly.
It is quite extraordinary what a hot bath and some therapeutic… massage can do for bruises.
I got dressed in my own twenty-first century clothes eventually and went to forage in the kitchen for something to make for dinner. It felt like treading on dangerous ground, cooking in Garrick’s domain, but he’d let me cook with him several times and I knew where everything was. Besides, I reasoned, there was no knowing how tired he and James would be when they got back. He wouldn’t want to cook and we could hardly phone out for a take-way.
‘Come in here,’ I called after Luc when he went towards the drawing room. ‘Bring the paper if you like, but come and be sociable, there’s a perfectly comfortable chair. In my time kitchens are places where people gather, have a drink and chat while the host makes dinner. Often that’s where the dining table is, even in quite smart houses.’
‘But the servants – ’
‘Most of us don’t have servants. Cleaners who come in by the hour, people to do the ironing perhaps. Window cleaners, gardeners, again by the hour or day. We have lots of devices, inventions that I am not going to tell you about that make domestic chores easier and faster. People entertain quite casually a lot of the time. I certainly do.’
I rummaged in store cupboards, peered in the meat safe, decided on beef stew. ‘I’ll invite half a dozen friends over, they’ll sit about in the kitchen having a drink, perhaps helping with the veg, talking, while I cook – kitchen supper.’
‘Where do you live?’ Luc asked. He folded the newspaper and dropped it by the side of the big Windsor chair. ‘In a lodging house for ladies?’
I snorted. ‘No. On one floor of a big house in Welhamstead, not far from the solicitors where you took my bag. It was built about 1800, so you probably saw it.’ I found a chopping board, laid out the slab of braising steak and started to trim it. ‘There are four apartments, one on each floor – bigger than Coates’s rooms. We’ve each got a kitchen that opens out into a living area, a bedroom and a bathroom and storage areas on the ground floor outside. Is there any beer or ale?’ I could make a carbonara if there was.
‘How much?’ Luc took a large pewter jug from a hook.
‘Oh, a pint?’
I cubed and chopped and sliced and Luc pulled the chair closer to the table and watched. I found what looked like lard and used that for frying off the meat and the onions, poured the whole lot into a pot and topped up with the beer, then studied the range.
‘This is where I’m stuck,’ I confessed. ‘I don’t know how to regulate the temperature. Do you?’ Luc looked at me as though I’d asked him if he could crochet. There were two iron doors so I opened both and stuck in a hand. One was definitely hotter than the other, so I assumed it must be like modern ranges, only I’d need to keep the fire stoked to maintain the temperature.