affectionately, “but I’d rather be cautious.”
Casting her a lopsided grin, Sarah sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Still, I cannot help but fantasize about the day I will crush those glasses under my boot.”
Caroline laughed, squeezing her friend’s hand as they rounded yet another corner, their eyes falling on a simple two-story building in dire need of repairs. At present, it housed one of London’s few children’s homes, providing food and shelter and the occasional lesson to a number of orphaned or abandoned girls and boys. Even from where Caroline stood on the pavement across the street, she could see the odd angle of the western roof. The façade crumbled in places and a number of windowpanes were broken, some boarded up while others had been left as they were.
“Goodness, what an awful sight!” Sarah exclaimed, a growl of anger tinging her voice as her hands balled into fists.
Caroline nodded, understanding only too well the outrage that filled her friend’s heart. No doubt memories of the many hardships of Sarah’s own childhood resurfaced whenever the two friends took on a new project. So far, they’d helped restore two orphanages, ensuring that the children had a safe roof over their heads and warm food in their bellies. Still, it was not enough.
It never would be enough.
Yet, Caroline could not stop, and neither could Sarah.
Three times a week, the two women had about two hours to look in on one of their projects while Caroline’s parents thought she was at her needlepoint circle. A pastime they greatly approved of!
Of course, Caroline attended thrice a week. She would only stay for a short while for then, sadly, her eyes would give out and she’d be forced to abandon her embroidery. To her great regret, of course! Not that she ever told her parents. That would simply be foolish.
Heading across the street, Caroline spent an hour listening to the orphanage’s director list all the necessary repairs. Then they were shown around the building, confirming for themselves that he was not exaggerating, and felt their stomachs plummet at the conditions under which these children lived. All wore rags, their hair unkempt and their little bodies no doubt crawling with lice.
Of course, Sarah had experienced worse, but that did not excuse the current state these children were in.
On their way home, Sarah leaned in. “He smelled of spirits.”
Caroline nodded. “I noticed it as well.”
“If we give him money, he will not spend it for the children.”
“I agree,” Caroline said as they approached her father’s townhouse. “We need to find a way to have food and material delivered and pay the necessary workers ourselves.”
Sarah scoffed. “First, we need to find the necessary money to do so, of course.”
“Of course,” Caroline replied with a feigned grin, knowing she could not so soon try to persuade another lady in her needlepoint circle to make a donation. This was treacherous terrain, and she had to tread lightly or be sucked down by the quicksand.
Chapter Two
A Knight of the Road
Pierce Byrne, Baron Markham, urged his black gelding deeper into the shadows.
London lay in darkness, and few people were about. Those who were belonged to the unsavory kind and did not deserve his mercy. Men who possessed more money than they could spend in a lifetime but still saw no need to offer some in support of those less fortunate than them. Men who only ever saw to their own needs, their own pleasures. Men who possessed no morals and precious little respect for anyone but themselves.
Pierce despised these men.
And he preyed on them.
The hackney coach pulled away from the brothel, swaying gently as it rumbled down the darkened street. Inside, no doubt, was a peer of the realm, a man who sought to hide his disreputable activities from his family as well as society at large. After all, among the ton, it was paramount to maintain an impeccable reputation. Whether or not it was deserved was a different matter.
And so, Pierce had come upon many unmarked coaches with many a noble within, who preferred a hired hackney coach over their own luxurious carriages simply because they did not bear their coat-of-arms and thus did not shine like a torch in the night sky.
Urging his gelding to follow, Pierce kept an eye out for others that moved in the dark like him. Fortunately, once they left behind the rowdier parts of town, voices drifted away and the stillness of the night fell over them. His gaze swept their surroundings, up and down the