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Such a disaster would soon be followed by poverty’s gnawing bite, for Papa had a terrible habit of wagering beyond his means. In the two years they’d been in London, everything she had not managed to invest or hide had been frittered away thanks to his desire to play the role of a gentleman at leisure.
Even her dowry had been plundered. On discovering it, she had in secret begun taking a small portion of their monthly income and saving it at a different bank. Thus far, she’d managed to squirrel away four hundred ninety-three pounds. It was a meager nest egg, certainly not enough to save them from privation for very long.
The changing of surname was the only way to save her and her sisters. One of them must marry well enough to care for the others.
Harriett stared at William’s likeness. If an offer came her way, she would be foolish not to take it. He would want her safe and secure, but it was difficult to think of marrying anyone else. He’d been everything she admired.
He had never said outright he loved her, but in truth he hadn’t needed to say it. Theirs was an understanding of like souls, one that did not require such words. When asking for her hand, he’d told her he held her in the very highest regard and she was one of the finest people in his acquaintance. Never had she been paid a higher compliment. She held it close to her heart, revisiting it whenever she felt low.
Sitting down at the desk, she went through the various items left on her to-do list. The orders for the new beds, supplies, and labor to start the new construction were first. She dated the letters she’d already written and sealed them to be sent out immediately. The rest of the paperwork she sorted into stacks of varying importance. Those could be dealt with later.
When the clock on the mantel struck four, she was forced to set aside her work. If she did not leave soon, she would have to pay for a cab in order to get home before nightfall. She didn’t want Papa knowing she had walked—another money-saving tactic. Every shilling counted.
Rising, she stretched her legs and back. There was just enough time to pay a visit to her favorite charge. A short walk to the east wing brought her to young Jamie’s room. “Hello, my dear,” she whispered as she peeked around the door at a small boy tucked in bed.
His face lit at the sight of her. “I didn’t think you would come today.”
“I couldn’t leave without knowing whether or not you enjoyed the cake, now could I?” He looked better today, less wan and a bit more plump about the face. The poor mite had come to her starved and suffering injuries from the sort of hard labor no child should ever endure. He would grow now, at least, but his legs would never be straight. She came and touched his cheeks to be sure their high color wasn’t due to fever. He was warm, but not hot. Good. “I told Mrs. Tolbert to make sure you were given an extra fat slice.”
“Aye, she did. It was enough to feed a giant, ma’am!”
His gap-toothed grin was the most charming thing she’d ever seen. Her heart ached with the quiet joy of seeing him happy. “Wonderful! Now, I’ve spoken with the nurse and she is of the opinion that you are sufficiently recovered to begin attending studies with the other children.” His face fell, and she held up a finger to forestall objections. “You must, Jamie. I promised your father you would receive an education while you are with us.”
“But he’ll need me,” he said, his face scrunching. “Now I’m well again, I can help like before.”
She hated to do it, but there was no other choice. “Your father has gone, Jamie. He found work in another village—he would not tell me where—and he has taken your brother with him. A woman there offered to watch him during the day along with her own child so your father could work.”
The story was partly true; he had left for work in another village. But she could not tell Jamie his baby brother had died of privation and their father had brought him here to prevent him suffering the same fate. She could not bring herself to say he had then vanished without a trace.
Jamie’s eyes began to well, and she reached out to smooth his soft, brown hair. Damn. He is not quite five. So young... “Without the income from your mother’s needlework, you and your brother were starving. Your father could not stop working to nurse you in your illness, and he could not afford to have someone else care for you. He loved you enough to do what was best for you by bringing you here. You would most certainly have died had he not done so.”
“But what’s to become of me when I’m well again, ma’am? Will he not come back for me?”
“No, Jamie,” she said gently. “He will not. He wants better for you than his life of hardship. We will care for you here until you are able to travel. You’ll like Newcastle. There, you will be taught how to read, write, and do arithmetic with other boys your age. And when you leave, you will be able to earn a decent living.”
“Read, ma’am?” His face was full of doubt. “But I’ve never read a word in me life.”
She smiled. “We will soon remedy that.”
His bottom lip trembled, and his eyes took on the hollow look of one who has just realized he is all alone in the world. It was a look she’d seen countless times since coming here. It was one of the reasons she kept coming back. Inside her lived a desperate need to drive that look out of a child’s eyes and see it replaced by trust and confidence. She folded him in her arms, as much to ease the ache in her own heart as his.
He lay against her and let loose the tears he’d been holding back since his arrival two weeks prior. He’d been so brave. She tightened her arms a bit. It seemed she was made to hold people while they cried. Once he finally stopped, she took out her handkerchief and mopped his eyes and nose. “There now, you’ll see that everything has worked out for the best. You’ll have a bright future thanks to your father’s selfless act.”
“Will I ever see him again, do you think?”
“I don’t know, Jamie,” she replied honestly. “Perhaps one day. But until then, I want you to look upon this as a gift from him. He wanted you to live and to have better than he could provide.”
He sniffled a little, and then took a deep breath. Even after two weeks in a warm room with plenty to eat, it still rattled. He would never survive if he had to work out in the cold. “I’ll do me best to make him proud, ma’am.”
“Good. Now it is almost time for your evening meal, and I must return home.” Rising, she gathered her cloak and satchel. “I shall return in the morning to look in on you, and I want to hear good things from the nurse. No more wandering about at night, is that understood? If you are hungry, you may ask for food and it will be brought to you. There is no need to prowl the kitchens.”
“Yes, ma’am,” mumbled the boy, looking guilty. “Ma’am?”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“If you do see him, I’d like to know. So I can send him some of me wages, once I’m able to earn me keep.”
Smiling, she made the promise. “I will, Jamie.” She waved goodbye and closed the door. It would never happen. In all her time here, not a single child brought through these doors had ever been reclaimed.
