How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

His courtesan widow?

They hurried toward his carriage, and in quick order, they were seated inside, and he gave orders to which the driver responded with alacrity. He bundled the child even more securely, holding her close to his chest, uncaring of her filth and the unpleasant odor wafting from her.

“There were men walking along the streets and they ignored her,” Evie said, firming her lips, hating the manner in which they trembled.

Golden eyes clashed with hers. “Hundreds of children die yearly on the streets of the city. Either from starvation or from the cold.”

She flinched. “I’ve not read of such atrocities.”

Cynicism twisted his lips into a cold sneer. “That is because the scandal sheets that report on which lady and lord are possibly having an affair are more sought after.”

She glanced out the small window, unable to withstand the condemnation in his gaze. They traveled in silence, and several minutes later the carriage rattled to a halt, and the door was opened by the coachman without delay. They descended and moved with briskness toward the large but very grim-looking house outside. She hurried to keep pace with him. “Where are we?”

“Cheapside district.”

“And Mrs. Cranston lives here?”

“Yes.”

“I…”

“You can wait in the carriage,” he clipped. “There is no doubt you are worried about the scandal if you were to be seen, though I hardly think any of your friends venture to this area of the city.”

Evie held her tongue, resenting the truth of his words. She followed him as the large oak door was opened without Richard knocking. He hurried down the hall, and she kept pace with him, noting the warm, inviting presence of the house. The rag-rolled walls were freshly painted in a cheerful pink and the furniture was made of solid dark wood. It was far from fashionable but looked practical and well polished.

“Mrs. Cranston,” he shouted.

A door was flung open, and Evie got a peek into a music room of sorts where several clean and lively children’s faces were gathered around a grand-pianoforte. The door closed, and the widow he had brought to the ball a few weeks ago bustled forward, her kind eyes curiously glancing from Richard to Evie.

“What have we here?” she murmured, shifting the blanket to study the child’s face. “Take her upstairs, Richard. I’ll have James fetch Dr. Campbell.”

He bounded up the stairs, and Evie remained frozen, unsure what to do. Mrs. Cranston clipped orders to a young maid for soup, dry toast, and for the doctor to be summoned. Everyone moved with purpose to do her bidding, and when the hallway was empty, she turned her attention to Evie.

Mrs. Cranston curtsied. “Lady Evelyn, it is a pleasure to see you again, despite the circumstances.”

“I… A pleasure to meet you,” she returned warmly, ashamed that a few weeks ago she had ignored Richard because she’d not wanted to be introduced to the woman before her now. Evie could not imagine the humiliation Mrs. Cranston had endured by the many cuts society directed her way. “Do you believe the girl will be well? She was lying on the ground and seemed insensate.”

“It is my duty and joy to see that she recovers. May I call for some refreshment for you before I attend the child?”

“Please direct all your attentions to her. I shall be fine.”

“Allow me to escort you to the parlor.” A few minutes later, Evie was comfortably situated in a tastefully furnished and spacious parlor with tea and biscuits despite her protest. Mrs. Cranston smiled, dropped into a shallow curtsy, and hurried away up the stairs. What was this place? How little she truly knew of Richard, of his cares, dreams, and hopes.

A few minutes later the door opened and he strolled in. She lowered the cup of tea to the small walnut table and stood. “Will she be well?”

An indecipherable emotion darkened his eyes. “The doctor is on his way, and Mrs. Cranston is currently bathing her and clipping her hair. She will also be fed soon.”

“What will happen to her now?”

“She will live here.”

“And here is?”

“One of many homes we’ve set up for abandoned children. There are two children to a room, but they have their own bed. There are governesses and tutors. They are taught to read, their numbers, and geography. We aim to ensure the children receive a tailored education that would allow them to obtain respectable positions and advance their prospects.”

“There are several such homes?”

“Twenty, at my last count.”