The Historical Collection. Stephanie Laurens
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Next they’d be insisting he take some god-awful tour of the place.
“Perhaps you’d be so good as to give us a tour of the place,” Penny suggested.
Gabe intervened. “That won’t be necess—”
“Nothing would give me more pleasure,” Mrs. Baker replied. “Please, this way. Mr. Duke, I hope you’ll find everything to your standards.”
It seemed there would be no escaping this.
As they proceeded down the corridor, Gabe spied a small, red-cheeked face peeking at him from behind a door. When he realized he’d been noticed, the child disappeared at once. The boy had been designated a scout, it would seem, judging by the flurry of whispers from behind the door as he went by.
“We have two-and-thirty children in residence at present.”
Despite her evident pride in the place, apparently Mrs. Baker didn’t believe in lingering—a quality Gabe appreciated. She led them through a bustling kitchen and scullery, then through a dining hall with long rows of tables and benches. They emerged into the corridor, and the matron immediately mounted a flight of stairs.
When Gabe hung back, Penny motioned impatiently for him to follow. He had no choice but to join them, unless he wanted to look like a mulish schoolboy dragging his feet.
“This floor is all bedchambers,” Mrs. Baker said when they reached the landing. “Girls to one side, boys to the other. Four to a room.”
At her urging, he looked in on one of the chambers. Simply furnished, but neat as a pin. Beds, a washstand, and a row of pegs on the wall on which coats were hung, in diminishing sizes. Beneath each coat sat a pair of sturdy boots, sized accordingly.
Gabe couldn’t drag his gaze away from those boots.
Mrs. Baker noticed. “The children do have other shoes for every day, sir. Those are for church and outings.”
“Yes, of course.” He cleared his throat.
“Come back here, you little scoundrel.” Penny hurried after a black kitten who’d escaped his hamper. She lifted the little explorer by the scruff.
Mrs. Baker laughed. “He’s eager to meet the children, no doubt. We had best go upstairs straightaway.” As Penny and Gabe followed, she forged ahead to the landing. “The younger children have a nursery to the left. The schoolroom is to the right. Naturally, many of the children come to us behind in their lessons, or unused to lessons at all. We’re fortunate to have found patient tutors.”
She clapped her hands for attention. The pupils bolted to their feet and stood straight. “All gather in the nursery, please. Our guests have brought us a treat.”
The children left their slates behind, scrambling over one another to be first to the nursery.
Penny turned to Gabe. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Why would I want that? They’re your kittens.”
“Yes, but the children are your charges.”
“They are not,” he said firmly. He gave this place money. He didn’t take the children into his care.
“As you like.”
Penny and Mrs. Baker went to the center of the circle and began lifting kittens from the hampers. Upon glimpsing the little balls of fluff, the children cried out with delight.
Boys bartered and argued over which kitten belonged to whom. Penny stepped into the fray, matching feline personalities to human ones.
Gabe disentangled the striped ginger kitten who’d found his trouser leg and looked about for somewhere to deposit it. Over to the side, a younger girl hung back, clutching her knees to her chest and watching the happy mayhem with longing in her eyes.
“Here. Have this one.” Gabe placed the kitten in her lap.
When the girl remained hesitant, he crouched at her side and gave the cat a gentle stroke. “Behind the ears, like so. There aren’t many creatures who don’t like a scratch about the ears.”
The girl snatched her hand away. “It’s growling.”
“Purring,” he corrected. “Means he likes you.” The tiny creature rubbed and curled in her arms. “You’d better give him a name.”
As he stood, Gabe felt eyes on him. When he met Penny’s gaze across the sea of furry mayhem, she was wearing that sweetly smug expression he’d come to expect.
The little smile that said, I told you so.
Damn it. He would never hear the end of this.
She didn’t waste any time starting in on him, either. Upon leaving the charity home, they walked toward a busier street to find a hackney cab back to Bloom Square. They weren’t halfway to the next corner when Penny stopped on the pavement and turned to him.
“Gabriel Duke. You are a complete hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite? Me?”
“Yes, you. Mr. I-Know-a-Hidden-Treasure-When-I-See-It. You said you know how to spot undervalued things. Undervalued people. And yet you persist in selling yourself short. If I’m the crown jewels in camouflage, you’re a …” She churned the air with one hand. “… a diamond tiara.”
He grimaced.
“Fine, you can be something manlier. A thick, knobby scepter. Will that suffice?”
“I suppose it’s an improvement.”
“For weeks, you’ve been insisting you haven’t the slightest idea what it means to give a creature a loving home. ‘I’m too ruthless, Penny. I’m only motivated by self-interest, Penny. I’m a bad, bad man, Penny.’ And all this time, you’ve been running an orphanage? I could kick you.”
“I’m not running an orphanage. I give the orphanage money. That’s all.”
“You gave them kittens.”
“No, you gave them kittens.”
“You sent them gifts at Christmas. Playthings and sweets and geese to be roasted for their dinner.”
“It was the only business I could attend to on Christmas, and I don’t like to waste the day. All the banks and offices are closed.”
She skewered him with a look. “Really. You expect me to believe that?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “What is your aim with this interrogation?”
“I want you to admit the truth. You are giving those children a home. A place of warmth and safety, and yes, even love. Meanwhile, you are stubbornly denying yourself all the same things.”
“I can’t be denying myself if it’s something I don’t want.”
“Home isn’t something a person wants. It’s something every last one of us needs. And it’s not too late for you, Gabriel.” She gentled her voice. “You could have that for yourself.”
“What, with you?”
She flinched at his mocking tone. “I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what you meant. Isn’t it? You have this idea that you’ll rescue me. Bring me in from the cold, put me on a leash, have me eating out of your hand. I’m not a lost puppy, and I don’t need saving. You’re being a fool.”
Her chin jutted toward him. “Don’t mock me. Don’t you dare mock me just because you’re afraid.”
“You think I’m afraid. You don’t know the meaning of fear. Or hunger, or cold, or loneliness.”
“I know the meaning of love. I know that you deserve it. I know you are too good a man to be alone.”
“Don’t say such things,”