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mistress of the house insisted Bridgit needed some time to herself, there was no winning the argument.
    Natty cast him a sympathetic look. “Careful, mate. She’ll toss you out on your ear and won’t even allow you to lick the dirty pots.”
    Bess wouldn’t serve until everyone was at the table and as the minutes crept by, Jonah’s annoyance heightened into a gut feeling Bridgit would skip out on him. What did he truly know of her? He pushed his chair back, ignoring Bess as she glared daggers.
    “Don’t look at me that way, this is your–” His voice died as the door opened.
    Bridgit stood there looking uncertain. Her face was pink from scrubbing, her still-damp hair neatly plaited. The shoulders of her plain gray dress were wet. A timid smile reached the occupants of the table and her green gaze settled on Jonah.
    He closed his mouth with an audible snap. She barely resembled the girl he’d last seen a couple of hours ago. The dress was wrinkled, but it was neat and not as vulgar as the brown one.
    “Sorry for the holdup. You could’ve started without me.”
    “Sit down, dear. We’re having a decent meal as friends. Ain’t that right, Jonah?” Bess smiled, but her tone made it clear she wouldn’t tolerate any rudeness.
    He frowned, trying to remember if she had always been this pushy. He pitied Natty for putting up with it every day. “Right.”
    Bridgit sat on the only remaining stool, next to him. The homemade soap she’d used had a faint floral scent that made him think about her legs. As Bess offered a prayer for the food, he bowed his head but didn’t hear the words. Bridgit’s folded hands drew his gaze. Her nails were short and clean. The blisters on her fingers didn’t appear very old, an indication she’d once had soft hands. The hands of a lady. Her face relaxed as she listened, putting aside her troubles. Without the dirt on her skin and tangled hair–even covered by another ugly dress–she looked more like the person she claimed to be. He knew well enough that proper ladies fell on hard times too.
    Bess’s prayer ended and they passed around wooden bowls. The Paynes ate what the land gave them. Vegetables were abundant, in addition to the salt pork that seemed a staple at every table except his. “You’ve outdone yourself with the meal, Bess.”
    “Thank you, dear.” She smiled and turned to Bridgit. “Tell us the latest news from Ireland? Natty and I miss the old country. The poor children never knew her.”
    “It’s as bad as ever, almost no honest work is available. People are ill and out on the streets begging. You’d think something could be done.”
    Natty reached for the damper pan. “You still have family there?”
    Bridgit took a deep breath. A tear escaped one eye. “Aye. Two younger brothers and a sister. Collin’s two years younger than me. A man now and too stubborn for his own good.” She smiled half-heartedly. “My mother’s sister and husband took Donovan to work their farm. I apprenticed as a milliner for two years before my da died. The lady who owned the shop offered a place for Bonnie. She’s the youngest.”
    Jonah’s spoon paused in midair. The way she described her family’s situation implied her mother either couldn’t care for the young ones or she was no longer alive.
    “What of your mother?” Bess voiced the question that Jonah couldn’t ask.
    “My da was robbed and killed for his pocket watch over a year ago. Mum died–” Her voice broke and she stopped for a moment. “She died of pneumonia just a few days after I was arrested. She was beyond the help of any medicine by then.”
    Silence pulsed around the table. Pity tugged at Jonah’s heartstrings. The story made her seem less like a criminal. Her siblings had names. They’d gone hungry and she’d done the only thing she knew to keep them fed.
    Bess’s meal turned to ashes in his mouth. He tried not to remember the things he’d said at their meeting. Damn Bess for dragging the