A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,28
the drawer, he withdrew a ledger and brought it back to give to Harry. “Everything’s marked in here, going back six months or so, when we really started taking children in earnest. It started with just three—orphaned siblings—but we haven’t been able to stop.” He laughed, then put his arm around Mrs. Winter once more. She blinked, then cozied up next to him, snaking her arm around his waist.
“I can’t have children of my own,” Mrs. Winter said, looking forlorn. Perhaps that deep sadness was the reason for the vacancy in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Lady Gresham said with considerable warmth.
Harry opened the ledger and perused the entries. The dates did indeed start about six months prior. The handwriting was atrocious, but Harry could make out at least one name: Madame S. He looked up from the ledger at Mr. Winter. “Who is Madame S?”
“Madame Sybila,” Winter answered cheerfully. “She’s French, but we don’t let that get in the way.” He chuckled, and Mrs. Winter laughed along with him.
“How do you know her?” Harry asked, glancing down at the ledger, unable to make out any other names apart from Mister Th and Mrs. Cro. It was as if Winter was incapable of finishing the last word.
He lowered his voice. “She’s a fortune-teller. Mrs. Winter here went to see her to ask about having children. It was she who gave Mrs. Winter the idea to take in a few children. She’s a kind sort, heart as big as the moon.”
Utterly thwarted in his quest to prove this charity didn’t exist, Harry found himself a bit speechless. He frowned down at the ledger before snapping it shut and handing it back to Winter. “Do you mind showing me the house?”
Mrs. Winter turned to her husband and looked up at him, her lips parted, her brows pitched in distress. “He’ll wake the children that are sleeping.”
Lady Gresham touched Harry’s arm. “Is it really necessary to search the house?” she asked softly. “I realize you like to be thorough, but surely you’ve seen enough?”
Winter whispered something to his wife, and she cast a disgruntled look toward Harry before taking herself from the parlor. “I’ve asked Mrs. Winter to fetch the children who are awake and, ah, presentable. A few of them need baths, and Mrs. Winter is adamant you don’t meet them. It’s a matter of pride for her, you understand. We do our best with just the pair of us and the lot of them.”
“I’m sure you do a wonderful job,” Lady Gresham said.
This was not going at all as Harry had anticipated. Was it possible Madame Sybila supported a legitimate charity and wasn’t actually stealing from the ladies whose fortunes she told? And if that part was true, was she also just a fortune-teller who made a living making wealthy ladies feel good? Was there any harm in that?
His father was never going to believe it, but Harry didn’t think there was anything he could say or do that would convince him to support his mother’s desire to see Madame Sybila.
Children began to file into the room. After several minutes, there were twelve of them of varying ages. The youngest was perhaps four and the oldest maybe ten. They looked relatively clean, and their clothing was in fair to good condition and, like them, also clean.
“Good afternoon, children,” Harry said with a smile. He walked to the tallest of them, a girl with wheat-blonde hair and freckles on her nose. “I’m Mr. Sheffield. I am looking into your home here. You live here with Mr. and Mrs. Winter?”
“Aye, sir.”
“You’re well cared for?”
“Aye, sir. We aren’t hungry anymore.” She looked to the girl next to her, who appeared to be a smaller version of herself. “Are we, May?”
May shook her head. “No, sir. And we get baths!”
Two of the boys made faces, while a third standing between them elbowed each in the side.
Resigned, Harry turned to Mr. Winter. “Well, you seem to be exactly what you purport to be.”
Lady Gresham came forward and pressed some coins into Mr. Winter’s hand. “Thank you for your kindness. I hope you’ll allow me to contribute to your cause.”
“Thank you for your generosity, my lady.” He smiled at Lady Gresham with a rather charming twinkle in his eye, and he gave her hand a squeeze as he accepted the coin.
Harry felt another pang of that something he didn’t want to identify.
Mrs. Winter came back into the parlor then, carrying another child on her hip. The toddler had stuffed