His smile was warm and reassuring. “Then we must get you some dinner.” Addressing the butler, he said, “Could you please have Matthews bring something for Miss Newton to my study? I believe I still have some tea to help restore her in the meantime.”

I would have preferred making it up the stairs on my own, but he kept a firm grip on me, and I was too weak to resist. After everything I’d been through, it was nice to lean against someone else for a moment.

He brought me to his study and seated me in the chair where he’d sat when I tended his wounded arm. There was a tea service on his desk, and he filled a teacup from the pot, poured a generous splash of something from a bottle on his desk, then waved his hand over it. He handed me the cup, making sure I had both hands firmly wrapped around it, and ordered, “Drink up. It will make you feel much better.”

The tea was hot, strong, and extremely sweet, and it had another flavor that reminded me of the punch at the Mechanics’ party. I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back a shudder at the memory of the Mechanics. He was right, though. I did feel much stronger as soon as it hit my stomach. “That was very restorative,” I told him, handing the cup back. “Thank you for your assistance, but I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you get some color in your cheeks,” he said firmly, but with a slight smile. “We can’t have you scaring the children.”

“Yes, sir,” I said meekly.

It wasn’t long before Matthews tapped on the door and entered, carrying a tray. “Cook sent up some soup and bread,” he said, setting the tray on a low table next to the chair. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Not now, thank you.” When he was gone, Lord Henry removed the cover from the tray and handed me a bowl. “Cook makes the best soup,” he said, his voice soft and gentle, the way he spoke to Olive.

He turned his attention to other tasks within his study while I ate. By the time I’d finished the soup and bread—which had been liberally coated with butter and served with a tiny cup of honey on the side—I felt quite restored. But Lord Henry wasn’t ready to let me leave.

“No, you still don’t look like anything I want the children seeing,” he said when I attempted to stand. There was a teasing tone to his voice, but he stood firm in not allowing me to go. He sat in front of me again, and his face and voice softened as he said, “I know how disturbing it can be to see the slums for the first time.”