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His speech was pretty, but his tone conveyed another meaning entirely. Her blood boiled. “You have no conscience. The only reason you are here is to torment me.”
“Torment you?” he asked, his features rearranging into a mockery of distress. “How very ungenerous of you. Rest assured that, despite your rather self-centered explanation for my being here, my motives do not solely revolve around you. I have a duty to discharge here, and I intend to discharge it—thoroughly.”
“There is a first time for everything, I suppose,” she countered, no longer bothering to hide her rancor. At least he’d not denied she was part of the reason he was here! “That said, if you truly wish to benefit the Hospital, you’ll conduct your investigation and then leave us in peace.”
“Leave you in peace, you mean.”
Her cheeks heated. “I will not deny that such is also my desire. But in truth, my only interest is in seeing William’s legacy firmly established. As long as that is also your purpose, I will gladly tolerate your presence. But I expect you to behave yourself in a manner befitting a gentleman.”
~ * ~
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel very gentlemanly at the moment. What he felt like was taking the irritating woman over his knee. “As I shall tolerate yours, provided you show me proper respect.”
“As long as you conduct yourself respectfully, Your Grace, I shall do the same so that we may interact without conflict for the benefit of the Hospital. As far as my respect…”—her lip twitched on the verge of a derisive curl—“I’m afraid that must be earned.”
Rich was wrong. It would not matter if he apologized. It would not matter if he sprouted angel’s wings and a halo, this woman would never regard him with anything other than thinly veiled contempt. “If you do not approve of my conduct, madam, you know the way out.”
Her delicate brows came together. “Unlike some, I will not abandon my duty because it is inconvenient or uncomfortable. Rest assured you shall have no complaint of me, Your Grace.”
He gazed at her, at the woman William had called his “divine angel of mercy.” She looked anything but divine. Her gown was almost as bad as the one she’d worn yesterday. Her plain, brown hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and there on her hand gleamed William’s mourning ring.
It was a stark reminder. As was the image of his brother staring at him from the wall beside her. He ground his teeth and refrained from glancing at it, concentrating instead on the difficult female standing before him. In spite of everything, he could not help the desire that swept through him as he observed the too-proud line of her jaw, the tilt of her narrowed eyes, and her tight, compressed lips. She was nothing spectacular to look upon, especially when she wore such a haughty, disapproving expression; but even so, something about her stirred him.
Damn. He’d thought sobriety would dispel his unwanted attraction to her, but it was not so. “I shall do my best to tread lightly while I am here,” he lied. “And in return, I shall expect you to answer every question I put to you.”
Her chin rose another increment. “I shall do so gladly—provided such questions pertain to the running of this Hospital.”
Rather than dissuading him, her evasive response made him burn with curiosity. What sort of woman was she when she wasn’t angry? Had she been tender with William? Had she laughed with him? Knowing such thoughts would cause him nothing but trouble, he shoved them into the darkest corner of his mind. “Agreed. May I count on your cooperation for the duration of my visit, then?”
After a long moment, she nodded. “Yes. Let us begin with a proper tour of the grounds.” She turned and marched out of his office, her spine as straight as the boards upon which she trod.
He made it all the way to the door before it hit him that he’d just come to heel like any well-trained dog. The thought brought him to an abrupt halt. His face warmed as he spied her waiting for him by the rear exit.
“I’m sure you have a great deal to accomplish today, Your Grace,” she said, her tone that of a mother speaking to a naughty little boy. “I shan’t keep you any longer than necessary.”
His pulse jumped with irritation, and he debated refusing to follow. Before he could act on the impulse, Rich’s words came back to haunt him. If he did so, it would only reinforce her poor opinion of him. Gritting his teeth, he did as she bade.
As he passed her, he again caught a whiff of lavender. It was a soft, warm scent, reminiscent of happy summers spent in the country. It seemed a gross incongruity that she should choose to wear such a scent, given that she was so harsh and demanding a person.
They entered the hallway, and he again marked how nice everything looked. The surroundings were not by any means lavish, but they were neat and comfortable.
“The older children, those between the ages of three and six, live here on the first floor,” she said, showing him a chamber similar to the one he’d seen yesterday. “The infants and younger children are above on the second floor. The live-in staff members are housed on the third floor.”
“How is it that you are able to find homes for all these children? It is my understanding that London’s orphanages are overflowing.”
“Unfortunately, while we are able to place many, we cannot do so with all,” she explained. “Some do age out.”
“What do you do with them? Surely you don’t turn them out into the streets.”
Her look was one of horror. “Certainly not! Once a child turns four, he or she begins proper schooling here. We teach them their letters and numbers, and the beginnings of reading. Upon reaching the age of five, boys showing an aptitude for scholarship are sent to a school in Newcastle. We have an agreement with the parish church there. Some of the boys will eventually take vows and join the ranks of the clergy, and others will graduate to find clerical work.”
“And what of those who do not show a scholarly aptitude?”
“They are placed in apprenticeship with one of the local craftsmen with whom our school has built a relationship.”
“And the girls?”
“They prove a bit more difficult, as I’m sure you can understand,” she said, her brow creasing with concern. “Last year, we helped found a school here in London specifically to take our girls. They may, depending upon their bent, become ladies’ maids, cooks, or seamstresses. As with the boys, those with the mind for it may continue academic studies. Eventually, those will become teachers or governesses. Eligibility for such extended education is determined by academic performance. A girl must earn her merit scholarship each year in order to continue.”
