A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,29

his entire fist in his mouth. Drool ran down his chin as he stared at Harry. He pulled his hand free and looked at Mrs. Winter. “Mama?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I thought you didn’t have any children.”

“We don’t,” Winter answered. “But Jacob here thinks Mrs. Winter is his mother. We don’t know where his went,” he added quietly, his eyes downcast. He reached over and ruffled the boy’s light brown hair.

Lady Gresham curled her hand around Harry’s arm. “We won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for your time.”

Harry walked from the parlor with her, his mind churning at this astonishing turn. Winter rushed to open the door for them, and Harry bid him good day.

Once they were outside, he turned and frowned at the house. “Maybe they’re all paid actors.”

Lady Gresham laughed, and he turned to look at her, his frown still in place.

She quieted. “You’re serious.” Alarm lit her gaze. “You can’t really think that. That would cost quite a bit of money, I’d think. If this were some sort of scam, how much money could Madame Sybila really be making?”

“You’d be surprised how cheaply people will work, and those children likely aren’t getting paid. They probably happily agreed to pretend to live there in exchange for good clean clothing, and food. And baths.”

“You are quite cynical.” There was an edge of frost to her tone that Harry didn’t like. Or maybe he didn’t like that she was right.

He turned with her toward the cathedral and exhaled. “I can be, yes. It’s a fault I endeavor to overcome.”

“And if you think those boys willingly took baths, you are being disagreeable on purpose.”

Now he laughed. “You’re right, of course—that they wouldn’t have wanted to take baths. I am not, however, trying to be disagreeable.” He glanced back at the house. “I’ll pay another visit in a week or so just to make sure today wasn’t some sort of performance.”

“Please tell me when you do, because I’d like to send more money. I didn’t have enough with me today to give them what I’d like.”

He looked at her as they walked through the churchyard, feeling anything but cynical about her generosity and kindheartedness. “You really do care about the less fortunate. It’s not just a fashionable thing to do.”

“There’s your cynicism again.”

“Perhaps, but I also know the people of the ton, and many of them care only how charity makes them look.”

“How sad,” Lady Gresham said. “Are you terribly upset that your expectations were not met?”

“Yes and no. Mostly no.” How could he be when it seemed children were being helped and he’d spent a lovely afternoon with Lady Gresham?

“I admit I rather enjoyed this endeavor today,” Lady Gresham said as they left the churchyard and walked along Ludgate. “If you ever require an associate in the future, I hope you’ll think of me.”

He looked over at her elegant profile. “I shall think of you as far more than an associate.”

“Will you?” Her eyes met his, and Harry felt the connection deep in the pit of his belly. Did she feel the same as he did?

In front of them, a hack was just letting someone out. “I should be on my way home,” she said, disrupting the moment between them.

Disappointed their time was at an end, Harry hailed the driver and guided Lady Gresham to the vehicle. She gave her direction to the coachman, and Harry held the door for her as she climbed inside.

“I’ll see you soon, Lady Gresham.”

“I hope so.”

Their gazes held a moment before he closed the door. His blood thrummed as the hack departed.

Chapter 7

Selina tossed her hat and gloves on the small console table in the entry hall and nearly collided with the housekeeper, one of the few women who were actually taller than Selina.

“I thought I heard you come in,” Mrs. Vining said. “You’ve been gone quite a while.”

“Yes, you have,” Beatrix said from the stairs. She was already dressed in her smartest walking outfit, ready for the park.

“I’m sorry,” Selina said. “But I’ve had quite an extraordinary afternoon.”

“I can see that,” Beatrix said, her brow creasing. “Let us take refreshment before you change.”

Grateful for Beatrix’s concern—and understanding—Selina nodded.

“I’ll bring lemonade,” Mrs. Vining offered, pivoting toward the back of the house.

“That won’t be necessary,” Selina said. “I require something a bit stronger.”

Mrs. Vining nodded, then took herself off.

Beatrix came down the stairs and followed Selina into the sitting room, closing the door behind them. Selina went directly to the bottles of brandy and Madeira