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‘Yes, I have heard of it,’ Jane said. ‘I should like to do that.’
‘In the meantime I will invite as many wealthy acquaintances as I can squeeze into my drawing room for music, cards and refreshments two evenings hence, so that you might be introduced to them and talk to them about your children’s home. It will not be easy to extract money from them, however. Everyone is complaining of hard times. The war cost everyone dear in taxes and last year’s dismal summer and the poor harvest means their estates and investments are not producing the income they have come to expect.’
‘All the more reason for people to think about the poor orphans,’ Jane said. ‘If times are hard for the wealthy, they are even harder for the poorer people.’
‘I am sure that your silver tongue will do the trick,’ Mark said. ‘Until tomorrow, then.’ He bowed and was gone, leaving the ladies to discuss social affairs and exchange gossip.
* * *
The Foundling Hospital, set up by the philanthropist Thomas Coram over seventy years before, was much bigger than Jane had imagined it would be. Most of the children were the offspring of unmarried women, though there were some orphans. The children were well clothed and well fed and appeared happy in their way, but Jane could not agree that giving them new names and cutting them off from their real parents, even if there was only one, was the way she would go. It was done, she was told, so that the mother could repent of her sin and make a new life for herself unburdened by children.
‘I would rather encourage the children to meet and talk about their kin,’ she said as she and Mark returned to Mount Street. ‘Especially widowed mothers. Families are important.’
He had been supporting her all the way, standing beside her as she spoke to the Governor of the home and asking pertinent questions she might not have thought of herself. This time alone with him was precious, so precious, that it was difficult to give her mind to the purpose of their visit. Every time her arm had brushed his sleeve or he put his hand under her elbow to help her up a step, she had felt the warmth flood her whole body. She really must make herself concentrate on the conversation and not the fact that they were alone together in his carriage.
‘I think you are right,’ he said. ‘Poor Drew’s relations did not want anything to do with him when he was orphaned. They sent him to a good school and believed that was the end of their responsibilities. It is one of the reasons I befriended him and brought him to stay at Broadacres.’
‘Yes, I remember him telling me. He has done well for himself since.’
‘Yes, and I heard him say he would help with your project. You must keep him up to it.’
‘If I see him again.’ She paused. ‘Mark, do you trust him?’
‘Naturally I do. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason.’ She took a deep breath and changed the subject. ‘The Coram has given me other ideas for raising money besides writing letters. We could arrange musical evenings with talented musicians for which the wealthy audience would pay handsomely and we could put on a fair in the village and ask for donations for the stalls and prizes for competitions, charging a small entrance fee.’
‘A fair would not attract the wealthy,’ he said. ‘It would mean a great deal of work for a small reward.’
‘I know, but it would give the people of Hadlea the opportunity to become involved. I want the home to be part of the community, not cut off behind hedges and walls. And every little helps. I thought the last Saturday in August would give the best chance of good weather and allow time to arrange it all.’
‘Then we could do it on Ten Acre Field on the far side of Broadacres estate.’
‘But, Mark, would that be wise? You are so recently bereaved. What will your mother say?’
‘I will consult her, but she will say it was what my father would have wished. Your project was close to his heart, as it is to mine.’
‘What would I do without you?’
‘I am sure you would manage admirably.’ He turned to smile at her, making her heart flip. Did Isabel realise how fortunate she was?
* * *
They arrived back at Mount Street to hear from Isabel that she and Lady Cartrose had been riding in her ladyship’s open carriage in Hyde Park and they had stopped frequently so that she could be introduced to some of her ladyship’s many acquaintances. ‘I am sure it was more interesting than visiting an orphanage,’ she told them. ‘And guess who we chanced upon, riding in the Row? Mr Ashton, no less. When he heard you were in town, Mark, he said he would call on you. And Aunt Emmeline has invited him to call tomorrow. There was talk of an outing together.’ Her face was alight with enthusiasm and excitement, which filled Jane with a kind of foreboding.
