Page 5 of Singing For His Kiss

The woman smiled, enveloping her in motherly warmth. “You didn’t ask me to do anything, Cara. I offered. After the wonderful thing you have done saving my little bambina, it would be my pleasure.” She shooed James with a flick of her hand. “You go now. I’ll be up soon. Get my little bambina in a hot bath. Miss Elizabeth, you come with me, and I’ll have you sorted out and warmed up as well.”

Elizabeth’s brows rose at the casual way she shooed James down the hallway. James ran up the stairs two at a time, clutching Madeline to his chest. He disappeared into a room to the right of the landing. The door opened, and she glimpsed pink walls and white furniture, typical colouring for a little girl's bedroom.

“Come. Come.” Elizabeth followed the housekeeper upstairs. “You are this way.”

They turned left on the landing and walked down the length of the hallway to the last door on their right. She opened the door and went through. Elizabeth followed, then stopped as her shoes sunk into lush, soft carpet. Her mouth fell open as she gaped at the room.

A king-sized bed, topped with an array of puffy pillows of various sizes, faced the door. Dark wooden bedside tables topped with matching slimline metallic lamps were on either side of the massive bed. Understated matching creams perfectly matched dark brown wood.

On either side of the tables, Roman blinds were artfully half-closed over floor to ceiling windows, peeking from between a pair of voluminous curtains pinned by enormous oversized curtain ropes. An intricate, modern ceiling chandelier threw demure shafts of light throughout the room.

It was a long way from her single cot and a wooden house with cracks in the walls large enough to allow any light-seeking insect into her room. There would be no need to check the bed for bugs before she got into this one.

“Oh. My shoes!” She quickly bent to take them off and hugged them to her chest. She looked to see if she’d made dirty track marks on the carpet behind her. “You know what? I don’t want to make a mess. I can always grab a shower somewhere else.”

Mrs. D’llessio’s eyes widened, and she took Elizabeth’s elbow in her hand. “There is no need to feel…” she gestured with her spare hand, “uneasy. Mr. Rhyder said you come here for rest. So you do. You did a good thing for us. Do not worry.”

Elizabeth stood her ground, despite the tugging on her elbow. She should have listened to her gut at the beach and headed in the opposite direction than James Rhyder. Her gut had never steered her wrong. Only her head tended to do that, and she’d had enough of listening to that.

She gently removed her arm from the housekeeper's grasp. “Thank Mr. Rhyder for his hospitality, but I really need to get going.”

“Please. Do not go. Mr. Rhyder said you saved Madeline from the ocean. Madeline… she wants to see you. She is just a little girl, and she has already lost so much…”

The tone of the housekeeper’s voice made Elizabeth stop in her tracks. She turned towards the older lady and quirked a brow. “Surely, she needs her mother more than she needs me right now.”

The silence made Elizabeth turn. Mrs. D’llessio’s hands wring the end of her apron. “Madeline only has Mr. Rhyder. Please, he asked me to make you welcome. Come, have a shower, and I’ll get you something to eat. It won’t take long. Food makes everything better. Yes?”

At the thought of food, Elizabeth’s stomach rumbled. How long had it been since she’d last eaten anything besides a bag of potato chips? A day. Maybe more. Her insides protested the lack of food in a painful twist. She clutched her hand over her belly, her face instantly heating with embarrassment, but Mrs. D’llessio laughed. “Now, don’t be silly. You are cold, and you are hungry. We will remedy both, yes?”

Reluctantly, she followed the housekeeper. Luxury flowed from the bedroom into the adjoining ensuite. “How many bathrooms does this place have?” Elizabeth asked.

“One for each bedroom.”

Elizabeth blinked, thinking of the number of doors that lined the balcony. “And how many bedrooms are there?”

“Twenty.”

Mrs. D’llessio opened the cupboard below the sink and handed clean, fluffy towels to her. There was a hidden cupboard behind the mirror stocked with the amenities she would need. Elizabeth stared in amazement at the expensive bottle of body lotion and a jar of face cream she’d never tried because of the price. The only creams she bought were the ones from the supermarket, discounted at that.

“Take your time. Use what you need. I think you all need a bowl of my pasta. Wait until you try it. I made it today. Fresh. You won’t be able to stop eating. And you...you so thin. You need to eat.” The housekeeper smiled and closed the door, leaving Elizabeth standing in the middle of the huge bathroom that was bigger than her entire bedroom back at the farm.

She caught her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. The wind had dried her salt-caked hair into hardened spikes that stood out in every angle, her mascara had run down her cheeks, and her clothes were stained. A shower was a good idea.

She wrestled off her damp clothes, and her body sighed with the relief. Sand sprinkled over the floor as she flicked at some of the grit on her arms. She looked in the cupboards for a brush and pan, but there was none. She worked the bath mat over the floor and scooped the sand into a pile so as to limit her mess.

She turned on the shower and uttered a sigh of relief when she stepped beneath the flow of hot water and heat permeated her skin. Against her better judgment or not, right at this moment she couldn’t deny how good it felt.

She wondered where Madeline’s mother was. She clearly wasn’t around, judging by Mrs. D’llessio’s reaction. She didn’t have to wonder much at mothers leaving daughters. She knew all about that, but at least James seemed to be a dedicated father and had stuck around at least.

Not that she knew much about parenting, but Madeline went easily into his arms. She knew without a doubt children didn’t go to adults they didn’t feel comfortable with. Not children at Madeline’s age anyway. They were true to their feelings.

She knew how children acted around adults they didn’t trust or know. She knew how children acted being taken from their home and left in different homes time after time. She knew how it felt never to have a proper mother or father, only stand-ins who didn’t much care for her either way.

She’d certainly never had a father figure like James. When she’d turned ten, the state-run homes had carers instead of pseudo-parents, and she’d never had a parental-figure from them on out.

She’d tried finding comfort with numerous boyfriends over the years, but they’d only wanted the obvious from her, which she’d given. But they’d never provided her with more than a few moments of escape. Not comfort. Never love.

She went through a time of keeping to herself. It simplified her life. If she didn’t expect anything out of it, she wouldn’t be disappointed. It worked for a while. Then she’d met David and started to want more again. She certainly received more than she bargained for with him. And learned a great lesson.

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