The Orphan's Dream Read Online Free Page B

this one afternoon, alone in the scullery attached to the larger kitchen, when the door leading to the back yard opened and a stranger sauntered into the room. He stared at her, eyebrows raised. ‘What’s the matter? Why are you crying?’
    â€˜It’s the onions,’ she murmured, sniffing as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, taking in his appearance with a puzzled frown. He was not the usual type of vagabond who turned up in search of a free meal. His clothes might not be those of a city gentleman or a respectable clerk, but they were reasonably clean, and although casual his waxed jacket with its leather collar and cuffs was of good quality, as were his oddly dandyish waistcoat and check trousers. Even so, there was something louche in his attitude, with an underlying hint of danger which was both frightening and strangely exciting.
    He regarded her unsmiling, his forehead creased into frown lines. ‘You’re not the usual girl.’
    â€˜Who were you looking for? Maybe I know her.’
    â€˜Why is a young lady like you doing the work of a skivvy?’
    She recoiled at his tone. ‘What has it to do with you?’
    An appreciative glint flickered in his startlingly blue eyes, but was replaced by a suspicious lowering of his brow. ‘All right, hostilities over, I’ll introduce myself.’ He whipped off his soft felt hat with a flourish and a mocking bow. ‘Jack Starke.’
    â€˜Mirabel Cutler.’ She scooped up the onions and dropped them into the large iron stewpot, adding the carrots and potatoes to the small amount of chopped beef and several handfuls of oats. ‘I think you’d better go. The lady who organises the soup kitchen doesn’t approve of gentlemen callers.’
    He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’ve never been called a gentleman before. You’re obviously new to this area, Miss Cutler.’
    She glanced anxiously at the doorway leading into the main kitchen, which had been left ajar. ‘Shh,’ she said, holding her finger to her lips. ‘You’ll get me thrown out.’
    â€˜Considering you’re doing this for nothing I don’t think they’d be so stupid. Anyway, I’m well known round here.’
    She lifted the pan with difficulty. ‘Move out of the way, please. I need to get this onto the range or the soup won’t be ready in time for supper.’
    â€˜You’ll drop it,’ he said, moving swiftly to take it from her. ‘Let me.’ He carried it through into the kitchen.
    Mirabel hurried after him. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hamilton. This person barged in before I had a chance to stop him.’
    Adela Hamilton was seated at one of the trestle tables with a quill pen in her hand and an open ledger spread out before her. She looked up and to Mirabel’s astonishment her severe expression melted into a smile of welcome. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you again, Jack.’
    â€˜I’ve no quarrel with the Hamiltons, Adela. Edric and I parted company on amicable terms.’
    â€˜My brother-in-law is a weak fool, and you are a rogue.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Put the pan on the fire and come and sit down. Mirabel will make us a cup of tea.’
    Mirabel shot a withering glance in Jack’s direction as she lifted the simmering kettle from the hob, receiving a disarming smile in return. She made the tea, but she could not resist the temptation to look over her shoulder, and was surprised to see him seated at the table with the casual air of someone who regularly took tea with the wife of a City alderman. Her curiosity aroused, Mirabel served them in silence.
    â€˜Thank you, my dear,’ Adela said, smiling. ‘Won’t you join us?’
    â€˜I think perhaps I’d better clean up the scullery,’ Mirabel said hastily. ‘I’ll take my tea with me.’
    She was about to walk away when Jack reached out to catch her by