Thief of Shadows (Maiden Lane #4)(100)

He blinked. “Yes?”

She laid the back of her hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Of course.” He batted her hand away and smiled down at his sister. “How was the house party?”

“Dreadful!”

“Really?”

“Well, no,” she sighed. “Some of the ladies were actually quite nice and there were ruins nearby to explore, which I enjoyed.”

“So the experience was not as bad as you thought it might be.”

“Are you going to tell me you told me so?” she asked suspiciously.

“Not at all.” He stared at her a moment, wondering.

“What is it?” She nervously touched her nose. “Have I got a spot?”

“No, but something’s different,” he said.

“Oh!” Her cheeks, which seemed rounder somehow, turned rosy. “You’re not supposed to know yet.”

“Know what?”

“I’m expecting an Event come winter,” she said primly.

“Really?” For a moment he felt a tiny pang, somewhere near his heart: Isabel would never experience this particular joy. And then a grin spread across his face. “How marvelous!”

“Thank you.” She bit her lip but couldn’t hold back her own smile any longer. “Oh, I’m so excited, Winter. You have no idea!”

“And Caire?”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “He’s so nervous you’d think he was the one to carry the babe. But that’s part of the reason I came here. I have a favor to ask of you.”

He raised an eyebrow.

She clasped her hands in front of her. “I wonder if I could take Mary Whitsun away? To come live with me. Caire wants someone to help me if I should feel unwell, and after the baby comes, we’ll need a nursemaid. She’d be perfect, and besides, I’ve missed her terribly since I left the home. Please?”

“Of course,” Winter replied, delighted. “I think Mary Whitsun would quite like that.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Temperance beamed up at him. “I suppose with that settled, I ought to get back.”

He blinked. “Get back where?”

“To the Ladies’ Syndicate for the Benefit of the Home for Unfortunate Infants and Foundling Children,” Temperance said with a touch of asperity. “Didn’t you know we were holding a meeting in the sitting room downstairs?”

“Now?”

He felt the surge of energy through his veins. If there was a meeting of the Ladies’ Syndicate, then Isabel would be here. He hadn’t seen her in a sennight—not since he’d killed Seymour. During that time, he’d been busy with reclaiming the home and helping the traumatized little girls who had been used in the workshop, but that hadn’t been the main reason he’d stayed away from Isabel.

His darkness had come to the fore that night. He’d killed a man—something he’d never done before. Taking a life wasn’t something to be done lightly. He’d prayed over the matter, considered if he should let Isabel go for her own good. But there was another side to his darkness; he’d always known that. When he’d let it free, he’d also set free the ability to hug Temperance. To take a little girl’s hands in his own to comfort her. He knew now that he would never be the manager his father was: distant, reserved, but kind. Instead he would care too much, worry too much, grieve too much when a child was lost. And when a child succeeded? When one thrived or was rescued? Then he would probably be overjoyed.

He couldn’t change that about himself, even if he wanted to. That was simply the kind of manager he was destined to be, and he thought he could now live peaceably with that fact.

But there was one person—one lovely, stubborn, wicked lady—whom he couldn’t live without, and apparently she was sitting downstairs at this very moment.

A week had been entirely too long.

“Excuse me,” he murmured to his sister.

“Where are you going?” Temperance called after him.

“To find my destiny,” he replied.

“WHAT WERE YOU thinking?” Isabel watched with amusement as Amelia Caire raised a patrician eyebrow sternly at Lady Penelope.

Amelia had just got back into town last night, apparently because of a letter Lady Margaret had written weeks ago.

“I’m sure I had the best interests of the children at heart.” Lady Penelope opened her pansy-purple eyes wide in appeal. “And Artemis said it was a good idea.”

Miss Greaves, who had just taken a sip of her tea, choked.

“I understand that Mr. Makepeace confiscated three and thirty slingshots,” Lady Hero said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’ve seen that many slingshots in all my life.”

“We’ve had to have all the classrooms repainted as well,” Amelia said. “And four beds have had to be replaced.”

“Cook found another cherry pit this morning,” Lady Phoebe piped up brightly. “In the flour in the kitchen.”

All of the ladies looked down at the scones on their plates. Lady Hero carefully set her plate aside, looking a tad green about the edges.

“Well, I thought it was an experiment worth trying,” Lady Penelope said stoutly. “If I’d not brought in Lord d’Arque, we’d never have learned not to give the children hothouse cherries as a special present.”