He was a man of honor, who lived and breathed it. “Thank you.”
No more was said as Mrs. Wheaton entered then carrying a hamper of food. “Some cold meats, bread and cheese. There are some apples in there, as well. The children will enjoy them on the journey, I think.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wheaton,” Effie said. “That was very thoughtful of you. I’m sure everyone will be very grateful for the nourishment later.”
Callie remained quiet, still uncertain whether or not it was a good idea for them to all be together. If something happened to one of the children because of her, she’d never be able to forgive herself.
“It will be fine,” Winn said. “It will be. Have faith, Miss St. James.”
Faith was in short supply for her. Unable to say anything else, she simply nodded and offered a weak excuse of a smile. “Goodbye, Effie.”
“Only for a time,’ Effie replied. “Have hope, my dear.”
*
She seemed utterly defeated. Whether it was the fright she’d had or the resulting exhaustion from it, it appeared as if the experience had simply deflated her. Winn watched her cautiously as they exited the Darrow School to the waiting carriage. He scanned the street for any potential dangers as they were leaving and, seeing none, assisted her inside. To the coachman, he said, “To the St. James Workhouse.”
Other than a raised eyebrow, the coachman showed no qualms about the order. He gave a jerky nod. “Aye, m’lord.”
Inside the carriage, Callie was seated next to him with Claudia beside them. Mrs. Marler sat on the opposite seat with William and Charlotte. He felt Callie’s gaze on him and turned to meet her questioning stare. It was clear from her expression that she’d heard his instructions to the driver. So he whispered his explanation as softly as possible. “We’re going to the workhouse first to ask if anyone there might have any information about the day you were found. I realize the chances are slim, but we cannot afford to squander any opportunity.”
“I don’t want the children to see that place,” Callie said.
“But I want to see it!” Charlotte protested, clearly having heard every word they’d said. “It’s from the story you told us!”
“That was a very prettied up version of events, Charlotte,” Callie explained. “There’s nothing about the workhouse in real life that you would enjoy.”
“It will be good for them to see it,” Winn stated. “They need to understand that there are people living in this country significantly less fortunate than they are. Perhaps by not shielding them from such things, they may be inspired as they grow to attempt to alter them. But perhaps not today… we have a long journey ahead of us and do not have time for an adequate tour.” The last part of his statement was directed at Charlotte and at William.
Callie shook her head. “Very well. You all will wait in the carriage with Mrs. Marler and we shall find another time for you to visit the workhouse and develop, what I hope, will be a sense of charity.”
Winn watched her, the way she met the children’s gazes, the way she touched their shoulders or their hair when she was speaking to them so that they could easily know her statement was directed at them without her needing to shout. It had been less than a week and yet the changes she’d wrought in them already were beyond measure. As were the changes she’d wrought in him, he thought.
He was thankful when the carriage halted, when they reached the workhouse. Inside the close confines of the carriage with her, he could smell her perfume, he could see the various shades of her hair as the sun streamed through the window and lit the varying hues. It was too much. In less than a week, she had infiltrated every crevice of what he’d thought was a reasonably hardened heart.
Heart. Winn sat up straighter in his seat. Was he in love with her? Surely not. Surely he had not fallen so quickly! But then he looked at her once more. Was it so very unreasonable? She was beautiful, kind, generous with her time and with her obviously very tender heart. Three children who had been little better than hellions were transforming right before his eyes with her gentle guidance. How could he not love a woman such as her?
“Is something wrong?”
Her gentle prompt made him realize that the carriage had halted entirely and he was just sitting there. “Just collecting my thoughts,”