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“Why not?”

“Because there I was, and Mrs. Fishpole said to take her, and so I—”

“But why were you there?”

“I saw Meggin in an inn yard, and I thought perhaps she was in an unenviable position.”

“You meant to rescue her,” Lina said flatly. “You meant to rescue her from the moment you saw her.”

“It wasn’t so simple,” Tom replied, nettled.

“How many children have you rescued?”

Her hips were swaying before him in a way that made it hard for Tom to concentrate. “Not many.”

“It must give you quite a glow of virtue.” She walked into the library and tucked herself onto a couch, looking up at him.

Was her tone scornful? Tom felt a wave of irritation. “That has nothing to do with it,” he said.

“Poppycock,” she said flatly. “You vicar types are all the same. You enjoy wearing a halo, so you removed Meggin from the only mother she had ever known—Mrs. Fishpole. And that was a mistake.”

Tom was conscious of a feeling of resentment. “Mrs. Fishpole couldn’t keep her much longer. Meggin was sleeping on a pile of rags in the corner, and Mrs. Fishpole herself told me that she was worried for Meggin’s safety. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Of course I do,” Lina said impatiently. “So you galloped in like a knight in shining armor and took Meggin away, did you? It must have given you quite a pious glow, for an hour or two at least.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he protested. “And why are you so scornful of an honest effort to help a child?”

“I’m not,” she said. “But I am quite familiar with the godly sort rushing in to save people and doing it without forethought, and without the ability to admit that they may have been mistaken.”

“So the mistake I made was to remove Meggin from Mrs. Fishpole, rather than Mrs. Fishpole from the inn,” he said.

She nodded. “But surely you have thought of some pious justification for removing her so abruptly from her mother to counter my criticism?”

“Mrs. Fishpole is not her mother,” Tom protested. But he’d never been one to deny a fair point. “You may be right. Although I do not agree that I did so merely for a sanctimonious bout of aggrandizement.”

She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead she was frowning and examining her fingernails. “We have to take her back.”

Tom sat down next to her without asking for permission. “Meggin can’t live in the kitchen forever.”

“No, of course not,” Lina said, throwing him an impatient look. “But she needs her mother. Mrs. Fishpole will have to find other circumstances. What a pity that Rees already has a cook.”

“I suspect Rees wouldn’t like a cook whose main facility seemed to lie in fish and sausage pie,” Tom said. “Apparently he pays Cook one hundred guineas a year.”

Lina gave up the idea of sacking Rees’s Cook while he wasn’t paying attention. “We have to do something. The poor little scrap: her eyes are like to make me start crying!” Lina never cried. That was a rule she set for herself the very first day she left home, when she got to London and discovered that her purse had been stolen and all her money was gone.

“I thought I would find her a family when I returned to East Riding,” Tom said.

“Who would take in an orphan?” Lina asked. She had seen many so-called charitable people decline to give a farthing to a beggar.

“I could pay for her support.”

“You? A vicar?” Lina laughed. “I can estimate how many pounds a year you earn, Mr. Holland. It’s a wonder you had the money to come to London, let alone support an orphan!”

“How much do you think I earn?” he demanded.

“Of course, you may have money in rents, but your living is unlikely to pay more than two hundred pounds a year. An amount that would almost pay for this gown,” she said, touching a fold of cloth.

Lina was wearing a crimson morning gown made in the Russian style, with white tassels on the shoulders. She looked adorable and utterly expensive. Tom had never had much use for the money his mother left him other than supporting charity, but now he sent up a fleeting prayer of thanks. Lina could be the best-dressed vicar’s wife in the kingdom, if she wished. “The gown was a worthy purchase, in your mind?” he said, putting an arm on the back of the couch, but not touching her shoulder. “You certainly look lovely in it.”