The Nobleman's Masterpiece ✔

24 THE PAY

Hours later, when Midge cleaned the room and its usual inhabitant, he lumbered down the hall, his clothes rolled up into a ball before him. As he stared at the remnants of what used to be a damn good uniform, he told himself it didn't matter, he still had three more at home. Besides, it was for Lydia.

He found Lydia in the kitchen where he'd left her. Everything in Midge screamed to be away from this place and washed thoroughly, but he had to see about Lydia.

The way she sat slumped made Midge's heart pang. Midge wrestled with formulating a proper greeting. Lydia sat deep in thought, so rather than disturb her, Midge resolved to find a shower—any shower. He wanted to be fast about it, too.

His eyes drifted down to his clothes as he traveled the long hall. He threw the uniform out—it would only serve as a terrible reminder of the day. It was eerie stepping into Lydia's bedroom, but as expected, he found a well-stacked shower. He hoped Lydia would forgive the imposition.

The idea of running around naked wasn't appealing and hadn't occurred to Midge until he exited the bathroom and entered the kitchen. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he met up on Lydia who held a fresh pair of clothes.

Her hands shook as she held them out. Midge looked down at the shirt and trousers, more than certain they wouldn't fit.

His thoughts consumed him to such an extent that he didn't realize how well his facial expression was studied. As he tried to formulate a proper reply, Lydia whispered, "Not everything in here is dirty. You don't have to make a face like that."

Midge's head snapped up to regard her.

"N-no, of course not," he muttered. "But...I really should get my own things."

Lydia pinched her lips together; she was about to cry any minute. The look on her face was slowly tearing Midge apart, so he sighed and lowered the bath towel from around his hips.

He knew it was useless to try the clothes on, but he did so in an attempt to prove a point.

The result was terrible. The shirt was too short, and the pants couldn't even make it midway up.

Lydia took the clothes back, clenching them at her chest. She shed a tear and swore under her breath. "But they're twice my size. Damn. Damn. Damn." After a thick sob, she rubbed her face with the fabric.

Moving quietly, Midge took the shirt back and draped it around his waist. "I bet you're hungry," he said, stepping past Lydia to tap the wall.

Out of the entire house, the kitchen was surprisingly clean, as if it had been frozen in time. Midge took it upon himself to open every panel, looking for something to eat. He waited for Lydia to say something but the young noblewoman afforded him no such courtesy.

"Are you hungry?" Midge asked again.

The eerie silence prompted him to look back at Lydia who watched the table.

Her glazed expression reminded Midge of someone who'd taken a hit and needed time to recover. Rather than startle her, Midge closed the space between them.

"Did you hear me?"

Lydia stared through him.

Midge reached out to stroke the somber woman's right cheek with his thumb. One tear fell, but Lydia turned her head, successful in staving off any others.

Rather than ask yet again, Midge resolved to leave Lydia with her pride. Lydia answered most grief with physical touch. She didn't seem interested in it now though.

The house was stacked well, with more than enough raw materials to feed the family for a year. That was interesting. Some jars of simple matter even lined the cupboards. Midge hadn't expected to see Yules with matter like that. It was usually something weak E's were forced to eat. It was a godsend, though, because it would be fast to form and easy to season.