“Now that is a grand idea,” Miss Caruthers noted as she walked toward them, clapping softly.
They are unruly, aye, but also hilarious and fiercely loyal to one another. I am glad I am helpin’ these boys, and together we will win.
“Before I leave, I want ye to make a list of the items the lads in this room need most,” Elspeth said to Miss Caruthers.
“Of course,” she said with a small nod. “It is quite lengthy, so I will only include the basics. Your kindness is appreciated, My Lady.”
“No!” Elspeth protested. “Include everything. We will do our best to make sure that the children’s needs are met as well as any other children we dinnae have the pleasure of meetin’ today.”
“Of course, My Lady,” Miss Caruthers said, before going to fetch a paper and quill.
Elspeth and Hugo were led down the corridor by one of the boys as they awaited the list at the entrance.
“What is yer name?” Elspeth asked the boy, who must have been eleven or so.
“Hugo,” he answered in a small voice.
“Well, would ye believe that?” Elspeth gave a wry smile. “Daenae tell anyone else, but His Grace’s name is also Hugo!”
“Oh my goodness, My Lady! You must be joking!
“I am not! Tell him,” Elspeth said, turning to Hugo.
“Yes, erm, I am Hugo Blythe, the Duke of Arrowfell. But yes, I was once a boy just like you. And they called me Hugo.”
“Wait until the other boys hear this!” the boy squealed as he hurried off, leaving them by the entrance.
Elspeth watched Hugo, waiting for a warmth that never quite rose to his eyes.
“I want to include the children in the charity event,” she declared several days later at the townhouse, as she explained her plans to the horrified Dowager Duchess.
Hugo, present for the meeting, merely raised an eyebrow from the corner, as if to say,I told you so.
“Include them?” the Dowager Duchess repeated, her voice a strangled gasp. “Elspeth, are you quite mad? These are children. Unruly, unpolished children. This is a prestigious event, not a village fair! You are playing with fire, my girl! Your opportunity here is?—”
“They are the very reason we are holdin’ this event, Yer Grace,” Elspeth countered, her chin set stubbornly. “How can we raise money for them if they are excluded from the very affair meant to benefit them? It would be hypocritical. Besides,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “they are rather charmin’ when ye get to ken them. And quite resourceful. Ask yer grandson—they have visited this townhouse just this afternoon.”
The Dowager Duchess looked as though she might faint as she clutched her fan in her hand, fluttering it wildly to bring cool air to her face. “Resourceful? My dear, they are a recipe for disaster! The ton will be scandalized! I can appreciate your reason for doing so, but it is social suicide! Wait a minute, did you say they are here?”
Just then, a small, wetthwackechoed through the elegant parlor. A tiny green frog leaped out of nowhere and landed squarely on the Dowager Duchess’s pristine lace shawl. Another hopped across the polished floor, leaving tracks of wet sludge in its wake.
The Dowager Duchess shrieked as she jumped to her feet, scattering papers. “Frogs! Good heavens! Where did these creatures come from? It is an infestation! No, a sign from God that this is not the right way to organize the party!”
Elspeth barely suppressed a giggle. She glanced toward the door, where a small, grubby face quickly disappeared. She knew exactly where they came from.
One of the orphans, John, had been particularly fascinated by the frogs in the garden.
Hugo, who had been leaning against the mantelpiece, looking bored, suddenly straightened, his eyes wide. He looked from the hopping frogs to Elspeth, a mixture of disbelief and exasperation on his face.
Elspeth could not imagine a time when he was more confused. It made her laugh all the more. In fact, the more she laughed, the louder it came out until she heard Mrs. Whipple stifle a chuckle from the hall outside.
“You see?” the Dowager Duchess wailed, fanning herself with a trembling hand. “This is precisely what I mean! Chaos! Utter chaos!”
Elspeth merely smiled. “They are merely expressing their enthusiasm, Yer Grace.”
“I have fetched some help from the servants,” Mrs. Whipple choked out. “We will be rid of the frogs in no time!”
She gasped as she covered her mouth with a towel, ushering John away and chastising him with a pointed finger.
