Page 50 of Charity

She quickly returned her attention to her plate, and Oscar relaxed. It would be nice to take Agatha away from London. He didn’t think she’d left since she’d come to stay with her grandfather all those years ago. Wonderful years, where they’d grown to become the best of friends.

They passed the next course in silence, but holding his tongue proved impossible. “I was unable to visit with the children at the orphanage today. How is little Betty coming along?”

“Very well,” Agatha replied, after a footman had taken her plate. “She is full of health and liveliness again. And the other children are the same, as always.”

Oscar laughed. “Full of beans and ready for adventure?”

“The very thing.”

“Most boys are like that, and girls too, at a young age, before they are taught to imitate only their mothers.” A smile flittered across Agatha’s face at his words. “What?”

“The boys were quite curious about you the other day. They peppered me with all manner of questions. You’ve become quite the novelty. But I think boys learn a great deal from their fathers, too, without ever realizing it. It is such a pity they will be forever without one.”

“I won’t always be a novelty for them.” Oscar took a hasty swallow of his claret. “With luck, they will get quite sick of me.”

Agatha grinned. “It won’t happen. It is good that the boys have your influence at this stage of their lives. I have noticed an increased attention to their appearance by the older ones, but I must arrange a tailor for some of them. They have quite outgrown their things. Simon’s arms are very long now.”

“How did Simon come to be in the orphanage?” Oscar adjusted his chair so they were an inch closer together. “There is very little noted about him in the records.”

“We know little more. He was found waiting on the front steps one morning, a sack of clothes at his side and a handful of coins clutched in his fist. There was a note—a piece of much-folded parchment with my grandfather’s name written upon it.”

“Did your grandfather recognize him?”

She shook her head sadly. “Not at all. And since Simon will never speak about the past, we have little else to go on. He’s a good influence on the younger boys though.”

“How so?”

Agatha’s smile returned. “He can read. His penmanship is quite superior to what was first expected. He’s even started helping the little ones learn their letters.”

Now that was surprising. “Well, perhaps his skills will set him up for a career when he grows older. I’ll make sure to speak with him tomorrow.”

Agatha’s smiled dimmed. “That may prove difficult. He’s not fond of gentlemen, by and large, and does his best to remain unseen. It’s quite vexing to be always searching for him.”

“He obviously does not take after Miss Mabel then.” Oscar laughed loudly and all eyes turned toward them again. He forced his attention to the delicacies being placed before him with considerable reluctance. He liked discussing the children’s needs with Agatha. And he was incredibly curious about this Simon boy. Reading and writing so well as to impress at the age of ten was quite an achievement for an orphan. Perhaps his circumstances now were far removed from where they had begun. He’d question the boy carefully so as not to frighten him and then see what might be done for his future.

At the end of the meal, once the ladies had departed for the drawing room, Oscar sprawled untidily in his chair. He had no wish to converse; his thoughts lingered with the orphans, and with steps he must take to make Agatha his wife as soon as possible.

“You’ve got a fine handful there.”

Oscar glanced at Lord Prewitt and frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t deny it. You practically made love to her over the table.”

Oscar got to his feet. “Miss Birkenstock and I were speaking of the orphanage, actually. I suggest you keep your base accusations to yourself.”

“Just remember, you’re to marry Lady Penelope this month. She’ll not tolerate you publicly embarrassing her by flirting with your light-skirt before her very eyes again.”

Oscar let the revelation that Prewitt believed he would marry Lady Penelope this month slide. He wouldn’t stand for Prewitt’s slander of Agatha. “Tomorrow my—”

Daventry set his hand to Oscar’s shoulder and nudged him back. The earl smoothly stepped between them. “If there is a disparaging word to be said against my wife’s closest friend, then I shall be the one calling him out. After all, this is my house, and if a guest has imbibed too freely of spirits and ceases to speak as a gentleman should, then I shall be more than happy to take him to task tomorrow morning at dawn if needed.”

Prewitt glanced between them, weighing up Daventry’s threat. Eventually, he offered a lopsided smile. “Perhaps you are right. You do set a fine table, my lord. I should call it a night.”

Daventry’s smile was cold. “Perhaps you should.”

Lord Prewitt collected his father-in-law and, with one last smirk, departed the room.

Daventry pulled Oscar away from his guests. “Have you lost your mind?”