A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,74

accident.” He smiled self-deprecatingly, or so Selina imagined. She could picture his expression in her mind. With his good looks and charm, he would win these ladies over without much effort.

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Winter is not here at the moment. She’s on an errand for one of the children, who is sick.” He paused for a moment. “Mrs. Winter and I were not blessed with children of our own, so it just made sense that we take in children who no longer have parents.”

“Are all the children here orphans, then?” someone asked. Mrs. Mapelton-Lowther, Selina thought.

“Most of them,” Luther answered. “There are a few who have a parent who is no longer caring for them. These are children who need love and guidance. As well as food and clothing.”

Selina heard the smile in his voice. He wanted them to know they were in need, hence the women should donate money. He was really very good at this.

“Would you like to meet some of the children?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” Lady Aylesbury said.

“I’ll be just a moment.” Luther left.

Almost immediately, Selina heard Rachel speaking quietly to Lady Aylesbury—they stood nearby.

“Mama, how can you be sure Mr. Winter will use the money you donate for the children? Perhaps he will take the money and gamble or drink it away.”

“I am reserving my opinion, Rachel, and I am not inclined to think the worst. Unlike you.”

Selina heard the irritation and disappointment in the countess’s voice and almost felt sorry for Harry’s sister.

A moment later, Luther returned with several of the children. Over the next few minutes, the women asked questions of the children, who responded as if what they were saying were true. That they were lucky to be here, that they were well cared for, that they felt like they were finally part of a family, that they had hope for the future.

Their comments pulled at Selina’s heartstrings. What she wouldn’t give to have felt that way, both when she’d lived in London with Rafe and after, when she’d gone to school. That these children were playing a part also tugged at her emotions—and not in a good way. She shoved the sensation away.

“Mr. Winter, what sorts of things do you need?”

“Clothing, books, money for food, and the other items I mentioned. Also for medicine. Mrs. Winter is now fetching a tonic, which is an extra expense.”

“And you manage all this yourself, all these children—how many are there again?” Rachel asked.

“Fourteen today,” Luther said. “The number varies. Some children don’t stay. They don’t believe they will be cared for here.” His tone was sad and appropriately heart wrenching.

“So they leave?” someone asked, sounding aghast. “How can we stop that?”

“I’m not sure.” Luther gave the woman a bright smile. “We do our best. Any funds you donate go entirely to the children. I work as a blacksmith. However, it’s becoming more difficult to maintain that work while I help Mrs. Winter care for the children. And we do hope to train them for domestic service.”

“You can’t keep working at the smithy,” Lady Aylesbury said. “We must start a subscription so you will have a steady income. Then you can focus your efforts entirely on the children. I wonder if we might take a tour of the home to see what we could do to improve your situation?”

“Yes, of course. I can answer any of your questions, as can Millie.” Luther gestured to the girl next to him. She was one of the oldest, maybe twelve.

Selina had said they didn’t want to accept a subscription—because this wasn’t real. But what if it was? What if she truly started a home for wayward children? The idea seeded in her mind.

Luther left the parlor, and most of the women filed out after him before the loud slam of a door crashed from the back of the house.

Selina hoped that was just one of the children. “Would you like me to check on that, Mr. Winter?”

“Yes, please,” he called from halfway up the stairs. The women following him continued on their way. However, the two that had not—Harry’s sisters, Rachel and Imogen—stayed behind with Selina.

“You go on ahead,” Selina urged. “I’ve seen the home before.”

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance?” Imogen asked.

“No, thank—”

Selina was interrupted by the arrival of Theresa, who’d swept in from the back of the house. Her dark hair was partially up, but lank strands hung around her face and neck. She looked pale except for the dark purple circles under her bloodshot eyes. “I