“You can eat a whole pot of it if you want.” He smiled.
She tucked the blanket under her arms and reached for the spoon, moaning at the first taste of it.
Grey chuckled. “I think that means you like it?”
She felt her face heat with embarrassment and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Call me Grey for now.”
She nodded and went back to the soup. She was surprised to see she’d only been able to eat half of the bowl and most of the fruit.
“Drink your milk,” he said.
She used to like milk, but with Fowler, she got confused when it made her sick until she overheard a few maids talking. Some of the things they’d put in her milk were disgusting, and some of it was poison. She didn’t understand people who enjoyed hurting others. With those girls, she’d done nothing to want to harm her.
“I … can’t.”
“You don’t like milk?”
“No. I used to love it. It’s just that I can’t drink it anymore.”
“Do you want to tell me why?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. not right now.”
He nodded. “Good enough. Are you done with the water, or would you like something else?”
“I’m fine.”
“Let’s get you in a bath.”
She reached for the dishes, and he grasped her arm. “I know it will take some getting used to, but you’re not the maid here, and you’re certainly not a slave.”
“Who am I?”
“You’re my friend.”
“What kind of friend?” she asked.
“Just a regular friend for now.”
She nodded but had no idea if she would ever be ready to think about being friends. She’d hadn’t had one in a while and never with a man like him. Time would tell how things went, and she’d take it day by day.