“It’s nothing,” she said.
His expression was open. “You can tell me.”
She sighed. There was far too much. An entire lifetime he knew nothing about. But if she had to pick a single defining moment…
“You and your peers aren’t the only ones who hurry past rookeries as though there aren’t real people there. Within the poorest parts, there are still haves and have-nots. I was a have-not.”
He winced. “Because of the orphanage?”
“The orphanage is the reason I’m alive. It was everything to me. I did not make the same impact on it.” She gave a sad smile. “I was a plain child. You might think being ignored would make me misbehave, but I saw what happened to unruly children. Blending in was better than standing out. I didn’t want to be cast away from the only home I ever knew. Not again.”
He frowned. “Again?”
“I’m not an orphan.” Or at least she hadn’t been at the time. “I wasn’t sent to live in an orphanage because there was no one else to take me; I was discarded because my family didn’t want me—tucked into a basket with a note that said I was one mouth too many in a family that already had more than enough.” Her throat tightened, as it always did. “My parents looked at all their children and decided the helpless baby was the one they wanted the least. Me. The most useless of the lot.”
She’d been the newest, the least loved, the least familiar. A blank little slate, indistinguishable from any other squalling infant. An expensive mistake that wasn’t worth the cost.
“I’m sure they loved you,” he said quickly. “I’m sure they planned to come get you as soon as things turned around.”
“Is that what you think? It would have been a difficult task. They did not sign the note or leave a token or even mention my name. I had to borrow someone else’s.” The headmaster’s mongrel had been called Chloe. It seemed to fit her, too. “The orphanage did not have enough funds to feed those mouths, either. Once I was old enough, I would slip out to beg for crumbs.”
“That was how you got enough to eat?”
“No.” She snorted. “People looked right through me. My only chance for a halfpenny was to scrounge through discarded rubbish at the side of the Thames or learn to pluck it directly from the pockets of those who never noticed my presence.”
“Which path did you choose?”
“Both. I was six, seven, eight. There were rumbling bellies in every cot, and I shared whatever food I’d scavenged with the other children before tumbling exhausted into my own bed. And then one day…”
Her lungs seemed to close.
His hand covered hers protectively. “One day…?”
She fought the pricking in her throat. “One day, when I sneaked back through the dormitory window with an entire loaf of bread to share, my bed was full. The minders had given the cot to someone else. I had been gone for three hours, and already those in power had forgotten there had ever been a little girl to save it for.”
Lawrence’s face contorted with horror. Before he could respond, a footman appeared at the open doorway.
“Pardon the interruption, Your Grace. You’d asked me to remind you when it was time for your engagement.”
Ah. Chloe blinked quickly. The York ball, of course. The sand had run out of the glass. Her shoulders crumpled. She’d kept the duke longer than she had a right to. His bride awaited. It was time to be replaced and forgotten.
Yet again.
21
Chloe plodded out of the Duke of Faircliffe’s residence with a heavy heart. She flung herself up and into the family carriage and into her sister’s arms.
“Are you all right?” Tommy cupped Chloe’s face in alarm. “What did that scoundrel do to you?”
“Nothing.” Chloe buried her face in her sister’s shoulder and willed herself not to cry. “Absolutely nothing.”
Tommy stroked her hair. “What did youwanthim to do?”
Everything.
Chloe hugged her close rather than answer. Lawrence hadn’t even kissed her good-bye. He belonged to Philippa already.
The coach wheels started rolling.
