Making of a Scandal - Victoria Vale Page 0,48

such an … unfortunate part of town?” Mr. Lewes asked, nose wrinkled as he gazed about him.

The orphanage was situated where it was most needed—only a few blocks over from a notorious slum known as Devil’s Acre, which sat in the shadow of Westminster Palace. The home provided sanctuary to orphans who came primarily from the cesspit of poverty and iniquity. The building itself was a new construction, only five-years-old, and a beacon of hope in a sea of despair.

“There is hardly a need for such a place on the West End, I am sure you will agree,” Calliope replied. “The lady patronesses never travel here alone, and never after the sun has set. As well, the home is staffed with big, strong servants capable of defending its inhabitants from all manner of miscreants. We are perfectly safe here, Mr. Lewes.”

“Surely you aren’t afraid of a few pickpockets and beggars, Lewes?” Dominick drawled.

Mr. Lewes’s arm stiffened beneath Calliope’s hand. “Simply concerned for the welfare of the ladies in our company, as any gentleman would be.”

The door swung open then, and they were greeted by Mrs. Fisher, the matron of the home. A smile lit up her plump face at the sight of them, and she swung the door open wide.

“Miss Barrington, Lady Hastings, you’ve arrived!” Her wide eyes took in their male escorts. “And who’s this?”

“Mrs. Fisher,” Calliope said as they were ushered over the threshold. “May I introduce my dear friends, Mr. Lewes and Mr. Burke. Hastings was unable to escort us today, so these two gentlemen were kind enough to take on the responsibility.”

“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Fisher insisted, urging them deeper into the wide entrance hall—which branched off in three directions, with a narrow staircase leading to the upper floors. “The others have already gathered, and tea is to be served shortly. I’ll send word to the kitchen that we have two others joining the meeting. I am so glad you’re here! There are a number of things for us to tend to this month …”

Calliope’s mind wandered as it often did when Mrs. Fisher began babbling. She was a dear woman—a widow who had never been able to bear children of her own, and now dedicated her life to raising London’s lost little ones. Calliope and the other patronesses had installed her as the new manager after learning of the cruel practices of the woman who had held the position before her. She’d quickly recommended her nephew, a schoolteacher looking for work, as a tutor. Together, they ran the home more smoothly than anyone who had managed it before them.

They followed Mrs. Fisher down the left corridor, past a set of French doors that opened into the herb and vegetable garden that many of the home’s young ladies helped to tend. They were ushered into a small room reserved for meetings such as these, as well as the entertaining of prospective new patrons. Diana had financed the decor and furnishings, ensuring a plush, comfortable space that the people who supported the home would feel at home in.

The room was filled with familiar faces—the other patronesses of the home, some having brought their spouses along. Lewes found an empty armchair to settle Calliope into and opted to remain standing, hovering at her shoulder. Calliope folded her hands in her lap and did her best not to watch Dominick too closely. The man had once again drawn every eye in the room. A few low whispers were traded between ladies as word spread that Dominick Burke, notorious son of the Earl of Wrenworth, was in their midst.

Tea was served shortly after their arrival, and she was grateful for the distraction of accepting her cup and lacing it with sugar and milk. Then, all eyes fell on her as they waited for the meeting to begin. Most piercing of all was the gaze of the man perched on a settee in a shadowy corner of the room, his cup and saucer balanced precariously on one knee as he watched her. She cleared her throat and took a sip of tea, before setting the cup aside and reaching out to accept the slip of paper Mrs. Fisher offered her—containing a list of the needs of the home for the month, broken down precisely by their cost.

Searching for her voice, she did her best to attend the task at hand. She was never quite able to shake her awareness of Dominick, who loomed on the periphery of her vision like

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