The Legend of the Earl (Heirs of High Society) (A Regency Romance Book)(4)

“Excellent.” Alex took a sip of her stew then reached for bread as everyone else gave their own compliments to her. Chris’ was not verbal, but when he gazed at her there was no annoyance. That was good.

“Were you at the service?” Francis asked Chris.

“I was.” Chris was on his second bowl as well but paused before his next bite. “The commemoration was well deserved.”

“Indeed,” Alicia said. “I’m surprised it took this long to recognize her.”

The heads at the table nodded.

Reuben asked, “Do you supposed this will have any effect on the ton?”

Francis grunted. “It’s not likely. Our halls will still be overrun with their brood, perhaps even more so now that everyone knows Best Homes' reputation for ensuring their children become working citizens and not just beggars who’d pick their pockets in the blink of an eye.”

This was true. There had been a part of the ceremony that spoke highly of Best Homes. Though Alicia had grown to love the people at the table, her stomach turned at the thought of more children being dumped at the orphanage’s doors.

She glanced around and noticed the somber looks on everyone’s faces. Chris looked disgusted. Alicia looked thoughtful before she straightened in her chair. “Well, whatever happens, I will always welcome any child who comes our way.” She smiled. “And you’ll never believe how many donations have come in since the commemoration was announced! I’ll be able to hire more teachers for the children and pay for better sponsorships for the girls who wish to learn how to cook or become maids.”

“I didn’t know the home was lacking teachers.” Chris’ expression was blank, but Alex saw the glimmer in his eyes. He was upset.

Alicia beamed at him. “I didn’t want you to worry. You already give more than I think you should. You’ve paid for the boys to have new shoes and chemises for the girls.”

Mary Francis grunted, interrupting whatever Chris had planned to say. “The new donors are probably parents, for all we know, giving to their own out of guilt.”

“They never cared that much about us,” Nash said as he started on yet another bowl. He was a large man, fit with muscular arms. Alex knew he was a hearty eater and had prepared for it.

Nash went on, “And let us be honest. No one at this table has an ounce of nobility in them, no matter what Ms. Best used to say.”

Reuben chuckled, and his eyes took on a far-off look. “Lords and ladies, she’d call us.” He glanced around the table.

Mary Elizabeth Best hadn’t called everyone ladies and lords, just a certain few. A few had been called sirs and misses, while others were princes and princesses, which always made the children laugh. Alex remembered laughing and practicing her curtsey in one of the handed-down dresses.

Reuben shook his head. “I’m sure my parents were nothing more than a pair of paupers who created me in the heat of an alley one night.”

“Reuben.” Alicia pulled in a tight breath. “Not in front of the women.”

Reuben looked surprised. “Oh, I thought I was being polite. That was as chaste as I could make that statement.”

Alex laughed, and the others did the same. All except Chris, of course.

“She called us lords and ladies to make us feel better,” Chris said as he leaned back in his chair, properly stuffed. “She never actually meant it.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” Alicia said with a small smile. “You always had the tendency to walk around as though you were a little lord.”

There was more laughter at the memory. Chris had indeed roamed the orphanage as though it were his domain. Alex recalled watching him as a young child and wanting nothing more than to be recognized by him. It had taken her a while, but eventually he’d given in to her demands. He’d allowed her to stand in his shadow, following where he went. She still did it now.

“Well, I don’t know who sired me, and I don’t care to know.” Nash lifted his tin cup. “I’m a Smith.”

Alex lifted her cup as well. “Smith.”

“Smith,” Reuben said with a smile, cup in hand.

Rose glanced around with a small grin and lifted her cup in the air.

Alicia and Mary Francis possessed a true last name, yet they lifted their cups as well, knowing they were part of the family.

Chris wiped his hands and picked up his own cup, his expression closed. “To Smith.”

“To Smith,” the table said.

“And to Mary Elizabeth Best,” Alicia said.

They returned the chant before taking sips of their wine.

There were flickers of surprise in some of their eyes, but not Chris’.

He narrowed his eyes at Alex and asked, “Exactly where did you find this wine?”

She made her expression innocent. “Chris, it’s a special occasion.”

He sat back in his chair and murmured, “I should tell Gibson to stop letting you have full reign of my home,” before he took a sip, his hazel eyes distant.



Alex simply smiled because she knew he never would.



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2





CHAPTER

TWO



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