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Prologue
The London City Press
16 August 1793
Duke Street Orphanage Anniversary
The Duke Street Orphanage will celebrate fifty years this weekend with a large fundraising event with many of London’s ton invited to participate in a charitable auction. Established in 1743, some twenty years after the passing of The Workhouse Test Act, in response to the increase in foundlings in London, the Duke Street Orphanage is a highly respected establishment. A large assemblage will be held in the grounds of the institution, and the five founding fathers of the Duke Street Orphanage will be represented the second Earl of Milnes-Wilkes.
The original building was erected at considerable cost and now the Duke Street Orphanage comprises of one block in Stepney with large kitchen gardens and a few small farmlets in the surrounding area. The Duke Street Orphanage has a long history of careful and considerate management.
“A suitable environment has been provided,” said the Orphanage’s Matron Davey, “and it will be a gratifying experience for our visitors to note that our children are getting training to fit their station in life.” Many graduates of the Duke Street Orphanage have found employment as servants and stable boys.
Chapter 1
December 1814
“Remind me why I’m here again.” Theo hugged his greatcoat tighter around him. It was bloody freezing as he watched people attempt to skate on Watt’s Peerless Pond. A governess chased after a group of children, all of them laughing. Had he ever laughed like that as a child? He envied their freedom.
“You are the Earl now. You need to be seen in society,” Carlynne, Theo’s annoying older sister, said.
“I have bigger problems than being seen.” His father, the previous Earl of Milnes-Wilkes had nearly bankrupted the estate with gaming debts. Theo had returned to England in April when Napoleon was exiled to Elba and had only been home a few months before his father had died.
“All those problems are solved if you marry an heiress.”
“Says the unmarried spinster.”
“It’s different for me.”
He wasn’t going to ask why because he didn’t want his sister to give up her independence to a husband. Besides, there were enough rumours that his sister preferred women—there’d been that situation with Miss Hyacinth Dexington at finishing school that had resulted in hushed whispers among the staff—that she wouldn’t be happy in a marriage. He had a similar problem, but he wasn’t about to let Carlynne know that he had inclinations towards ... well, it wasn’t to be thought of. He’d experimented at school and done what was necessary in the army to ease his lust, but really, he should’ve outgrown that phase by now. If only it were true. It would make marrying an heiress more palatable.
“I still don’t see why this means I need to be cold.” He needed a second coat. The trees growing around the Peerless Pond would be lovely in summer, providing shade to the swimmers, but as they approached Christmas, the trees were bare, and the pond iced over. The clever owner charged people to skate on it, making an income regardless of the season.
“Not everything is about you. Some of us would like to maintain the lifestyle we’ve grown up with.”
He shuddered. Sometimes he wondered if the money was worth it. His father had been a tyrant. A foolish tyrant who thought he could win his way out of trouble but had ended up chasing his losses into a giant hole and now the estate was bankrupt or would be if he didn’t marry an heiress. Soon. From the moment that he’d inherited, he’d had the banks on his doorstep asking for their portion, and almost everything that could be sold had already been sold.
“You should become accustomed to being poor. There is nothing left but an expensive pile with a leaking roof.” There weren’t even any tenants or cattle or sheep or crops. It’d all been sold and there was no money to plant the next season’s crop either. The situation was hopeless.
“Find an heiress. Do your duty.” Carlynne glared at him, and he tried not to shrink away. God, she looked like their father when she did that, and he was suddenly back to being that timid little boy hoping to go to school and be away from his father’s devastating insults.
“No.” Instead, he’d let the estate die. His father had run it into the ground. Why was it his problem to fix? “Maybe I’ll go to the Americas to make a new fortune.” He walked away before Carlynne could harangue him. The icy ground made it difficult to stride properly. Damn it, he’d been a good cricketer at school, able to move his body well. The oval was the one place he had confidence. He breathed out slowly. He was being an ass. It wasn’t Carlynne’s fault, and she didn’t deserve his lack of gumption to try and solve the impossible. The estate and title mattered more than his feelings. He started to turn back and apologise to her.
“Fuck.” The uncouth word rang out at the same time as a body thumped into him. He twisted instinctually so his backside hit the ground first, not his limbs, and all the air was shoved out of his lungs as someone landed on top of him.
“I’m so sorry.”
Theo blinked. An incredibly handsome man with longish black hair and a haughty Roman nose stared down at him with deep brown eyes. His hair was far too long for fashion although it framed his face nicely. And his body was so warm on top of Theo. Maybe he’d hit his head because none of those things should matter, and now—embarrassingly—he could feel himself getting hard. It had been so long since someone had held him. Damnation. Hopefully the layers of their winter clothes would hide the evidence.
“Are you injured?” The man asked and then he stroked Theo’s face, which did nothing to ease his unexpected state of arousal. The man’s concern for Theo’s wellbeing was more than he expected from someone whose lack of class was apparent in the way he’d sworn while in polite company. Accident or not, Theo would never dare to express himself like that. His batman, Naish, used to tease him about his Queen’s English while they assisted the war effort.
“I don’t think so?”
“I’m terribly sorry. I bought these stakes at the Frost Fair last year and I’m still learning how to use them.”
“Would you like a lesson?” He swallowed. Maybe he had hit his head. He tried to reach up and feel his skull for any sign of injury, but he’d instinctively pulled his arms against his chest to prevent breaking one in the fall, and now they were trapped between him and this handsome man, so it was awkward.
“I wouldn’t say no to a lesson from you.” Was that an innuendo in the man’s voice?
