destroyed the place. On top of everything, the money used to purchase food from the weekly market had disappeared.
As had Mr. Wolsey.
But no doubt not for long.
When they finally set foot into the orphanage, Caroline felt her skin crawl with each step she took closer to the office. Once there, all blood drained from her face.
The room was not only a mess, it had been all but torn apart. Papers lay scattered and ripped, covering the floor. Shelves had been knocked over, and not a single chair in possession of all four legs remained. Only the large desk seemed to be unharmed as its size and weight had surely prevented Mr. Wolsey from flinging it across the room.
Broken glass gleamed in the soft shine from the shattered window, and Caroline could smell the rank odor of spirits and sweat and anger still lingering on the crisp breeze drifting inside.
“He took everything,” Mary exclaimed on a strangled sob as she appeared beside Caroline. “He went out the window.”
Caroline nodded, and a deep sigh left her lips. “I should’ve found a replacement for him sooner,” she whispered, knowing very well that it was a difficult feat, considering that she needed to keep her identity hidden. Of course, Mr. Wolsey knew who she was, or at least her face. Fortunately, she’d not given him her real name.
Together, the women cleaned up the office as best as they could, throwing out what could not be salvaged and rearranging everything as orderly as possible. They boarded up the window to keep out the chilled air but, with it, also the sun, which forced a dark gloom over the room.
“What shall we do about food?” Mary asked, her face looking contrite. “The storage room is still well-stocked, but it won’t last us for long.”
Caroline swallowed. “I’ll think of something. I promise.” Exchanging a worried glanced with Sarah, they made their way to the front door. “If anything happens,” she told Mary earnestly before stepping outside, “if Mr. Wolsey returns, you send for me immediately, understood?”
Mary’s head bobbed up and down quickly. “I promise, Miss.”
Caroline cast her the ghost of a smile. “I’ll try to find a replacement for him.”
Whispering a final goodbye, Caroline and Sarah walked down the few steps to the pavement and then turned toward home. “What will we do?” Sarah said out loud what they both were thinking. “The money you have left from Lady Woodward will surely be gone soon.”
“Especially now that I need to have another window repaired,” Caroline grumbled, her mind racing with what to do. Sighing, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, then removed the spectacles altogether. “Where can we find a replacement?” she muttered to herself. “Someone reliable. Someone devoted to the children. Someone…someone we can trust.”
Sarah shrugged. “If such a man were easy to find, the world would be a better place.”
Closing her eyes, Caroline stopped in her tracks, fighting the almost overwhelming desire to scream in frustration. She gritted her teeth, then counted to ten slowly, willing her heart to calm and her anger to vanish. She needed to think, and the way her blood boiled in her veins was far from helpful.
“Are you all right?” Sarah mumbled beside her, concern in her voice as she placed a comforting hand on Caroline’s arm. “All will be well. We’ll think of something.”
“Will we?” Caroline mumbled in a moment of utter despair. Most days, she managed to soldier on quite well. But every once in a while, she found herself sucked into a black abyss where no hope existed and only doom and gloom awaited in her future.
“There’s a man coming toward us,” Sarah muttered beside her, her hand on Caroline’s arm tensing in alarm. “I don’t like the look on his face.”
Caroline’s eyes flew open and, for a second, she knew not whether to scream or laugh.
Strolling leisurely down the street toward them was Lord Markham.
His black hair seemed a little ruffled from the wind. However, the rest of him was dressed in a rather meticulous fashion as though he, too, disliked even the smallest lack of control. His dark gaze drifted over her before meeting her eyes, and Caroline inhaled a steadying breath.
Not since that night at the Cowell ball when he’d dragged her into an empty room had they spoken. She’d seen him lingering nearby at the following two balls but he’d never approached her. Still, she had felt his gaze on her for it never failed to send shivers down her spine.
At first,