Page 100 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

They went to meet him in her drawing room. He was a tall man with thin lips and a solemn face.

“I am the solicitor for the owner of this townhouse, Mr. Cunningham, and he has heard that you intend to turn this home into a school for orphans. He wishes me to convey to you that he will never allow an orphanage on his property. He will oppose any plan of the sort, and he wishes you to know so that you can vacate the premises and find a suitable building elsewhere.”

“Who told you such a thing?” William demanded.

The man didn’t reply immediately, his mouth opening and closing. Then he said, “It is the rumor on the street, sir.”

Charlotte’s face had gone pale, and she stared at the man, unblinking. A moment later, she straightened her shoulders and said, “You may tell Mr. Cunningham that I will stay here as long as I like, according to our agreement as written in my lease, and that I have no intention of turning this house into an orphanage.”

The man was silent for a moment before replying, “Very good, Miss Robbins. I shall tell him.” He stood and said, “Good day.”

When the solicitor was gone, William waited for her to speak.

She let out a long breath, folded her arms in front of her, andsaid, “Well, I suppose I should have foreseen that, taking in two children off the street.”

“How could you have known?”

She rubbed her forehead, looking more exhausted than ever.

“Are you all right?”

“Only a bit tired.” She sighed again. “I shall see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes, tomorrow.”

Thirty

The next day, as the three of us rode in Lord Brookhaven’s carriage, I thought about the need, the many children with no home, no safe place or safe people on whom they could depend. It was overwhelming.

I was a girl who daydreamed and created stories in my head, and I loved teaching. I wasn’t a director of an orphanage, an organizer, or political figure. I never imagined being in charge of a dozen adults or a hundred children. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, but I wasn’t sure I could be what they all seemed to expect me to be. But wasn’t this all my idea?

The truth was, I’d rather be at home playing games with Joshua and Sarah, Samuel and Annabelle, making sure they were happy and well taken care of. After all they’d been through in their young lives, I just wanted to see them joyful and healthy.

But wasn’t it good and right to save as many children from the street as I could? Lady Derringer and Lord Brookhaven were helping me, so I wasn’t all on my own.

Mr. Johnson met us at the entrance of his home for boys, greeting us warmly and taking us on a tour of his facility.

“As you can see,” Mr. Johnson said, “we have space that is not being used. We just need more funds to make the south and east wings of the building livable—repairing the roof and the windows,mostly. And then we will need the additional funds to hire more staff and provide food and necessities for the new boys.”

“Do you use an application system for admitting the children?”

“No.” Mr. Johnson looked even more serious. “We do have a waiting list, since we don’t have the availability because of lack of funds to admit every boy who comes to us, but they are admitted on a first-come basis. No one is excluded because he couldn’t get enough votes.” By the expression on his face, he disapproved of the practice.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” I said, “what made you get involved in starting a home for orphaned boys?”

“You might well wonder, as I grew up a younger son of the Baron of Glenwood—spoiled and rather unruly, if I’m honest. I always intended to make the church my profession, but I was put off by the hypocritical clergy I met. I saw them as not particularly pious, too lazy for good deeds, and seeking an easy life. Forgive me, but this was my observation. I decided to go to London and seek out the greatest need, and I found it when I saw all the children begging. If there was ever a plight that needed to be addressed, it was that of the children living on the streets. I have no very good opinion of any so-called man of God who could ignore orphans in need.”

I did agree, but there was something rote about the way he told the story, as if he’d written it down and memorized it.

But far be it from me to judge Mr. Johnson. He was certainly doing good work, housing these boys, some as young as three years old, who would otherwise have nowhere to go. And with winter coming in a few months, I imagined the gusty, cold winds and the first snowstorm.

Thank you,God, I prayed silently,that I was able to bring Sarah and Joshua safelyinto my home.In my mind I saw them shivering in the cold, with no one to care for them or feed them or give them warm clothes. No fire to sit beside when the snow began to fall, their little cheeks red and chapped, their toes turning dark with frostbite.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I shook myself mentally to drive those thoughts away as Lady Derringer spoke to Mr. Johnson about hispatrons and donors and the monetary amount it would take to get the rest of the building equipped to house children.