“We were told the children are orphans,” Evelyn said, “but what happened to their parents? Was there an illness in the village?”
Grace knew why Evelyn had sought to pry. Were their parents suffering from the same terrible affliction? Was guilt the reason for Frau Lockwood’s involvement?
Herr Bruhn narrowed his gaze. “Frau Lockwood did not tell you?”
“No. Perhaps she thought it would be best if you did.”
“Ah, I see.” The old man sighed. “She finds it too distressing to speak of. Perhaps it is not for the ears of such gently bred ladies.”
Evelyn sat forward. “We would like to understand.”
Herr Bruhn was silent for a moment and then nodded. “There is a waterfall but a mile or two from here, high up in the hills. They claim the waters flow from Heaven, that they have a spiritual potency to heal all wounds. Some fifty years or more an Englishman stumbled upon this place on his journey to Italy. He spoke of the magical waters, of the beauty to behold here and ever since it has been one of the attractions for the fancy lords on their Grand Tour. Of course, it is all nonsense. It is just a mountain stream after all.”
“Forgive me,” Grace said not meaning to be impertinent, “but what has that got to do with the children?”
“Many of the gentlemen who come here are on expeditions, expeditions of a debauched nature. They are not interested in the paintings, the beautiful statues or magnificent scenery. They care not for the mystical waters. Their interests lie in wine and women. They care not for the devastation they leave behind.”
They were all silent for a moment. There was a gravity to his words, a hint of contempt. As always, Evelyn’s logical mind deciphered his meaning.
“You mean these children are the offspring of English lords who pass through here?” she asked, and Grace could sense her apprehension while they waited for his answer.
“They are. The gentlemen move on. The women, well, some do too.”
Grace put her hand to her throat. Poor little innocent hearts and minds discarded by men who were indifferent to their plight. Anger flared. If they were in London, she would race round to the nearest ball and call out the scoundrels for their callous disregard.
“I see,” Evelyn said with a sigh.
“My heart feels heavy when I think of it,” Herr Bruhn said, “but the children lift my spirits.”
Grace smiled. “They must truly be a blessing to you.”
“They are,” he nodded. “Would you care to see them? They are sleeping, but it would not hurt to peer around the door.”
Grace locked gazes with Evelyn. She knew they were both struggling with various conflicting emotions, and wondered if the same questions burned in Evelyn’s chest. Had the golden-haired devil chosen to curse the men who behaved so recklessly? Had their husbands been just as cruel and indifferent during their adventures abroad? She could not imagine either Elliot or Alexander turning their back on a child. Indeed, she prayed there was a flaw in her logic. Perhaps she was not thinking clearly, her mind being somewhat overwrought and irrational.
“Yes,” Evelyn began, sucking in a deep breath. “We would like to see the children.”
Herr Bruhn led them upstairs to a chamber at the far end of the landing. “This is where the girls sleep,” he said using both hands to ease the door from the jamb.
They peered inside at the two young girls sleeping in their wooden beds. Grace’s heart lurched. They looked so serene, so utterly peaceful in slumber with their silky hair fanned across the pillows, with the comforting rise and fall of their chests as they drifted in and out of dreams. In those precious hours of sleep, all the people in the world were equal. There were no rules to separate them, no debilitating diseases to mark them as different. There were no emotions at play, no feelings of sadness or loneliness.
They crept back out into the hall.
“The boys sleep here,” Herr Bruhn whispered moving to the door nearest the stairs. “When they are not arguing that is.”
A light rap on the front door captured their attention.
“I’ll be but a minute,” Herr Bruhn continued, leaving them alone while he went downstairs.
They tiptoed into the room. The boys looked just as angelic as the girls. Grace counted three beds.
Evelyn grabbed her arm. “We must do what we promised,” she said quietly. “We must give Herr Bruhn money to support these children.”
Grace swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. “I agree. You will think I am silly, but I have a feeling we were supposed to come here. Perhaps there is another side to the whole story. Perhaps our husbands have been negligent.”
Evelyn shook her head. “No. I thought the very same thing when Herr Bruhn regaled the tale of the dissolute peers.” Her expression darkened. “You don’t think … I can’t even form the words without choking back the tears.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Grace began. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. “But I know neither Elliot nor Alexander would have the heart to abandon a child.”