Page 49 of Her Rake Fiancé

Richard smiled. “I am so glad to hear that. What you said before, that the ton is so rich and yet these children are starving and forced into a world of crime…what can I do to help? I mean it. Ask me anything, and I’ll make arrangements right away.”

Her gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand. Hercules put his head on Richard’s lap and Richard patted him.

“We need books. Paper. Pencils and quills. Ink. Right now, we only have the tiny room behind Elysium. But, one day, I’d like to have a whole building somewhere in Whitechapel. Hire teachers, a cook, and a cleaner. So money for that would be most welcome.”

He nodded. “Of course. Just tell me how much, and I’ll make sure you have it.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Richard. I am very impressed and very grateful. These children have had a hard enough life, and I feel like I’m truly doing something meaningful by helping them.”

He nodded again, his heart squeezing. “I admire your enthusiasm, your passion. What we talked about before… You’re inspiring me to do something to make a difference, too.”

“That is wonderful. Like what?”

“Well…I’m thinking of opening a business, like you suggested, but somewhere in Whitechapel where it can benefit those in the community. Like a mill—but I’d open one that provides a safe work environment and fair wages. Not one of those mills that leave people mangled. I don’t want to be one of those cutthroat entrepreneurs who makes money at the expense of desperate, starving people. I wouldn’t hire children like others do, but I would offer their parents a higher salary than most and suggest that those children go to my wife’s school.”

Jane’s face fell, and Richard realized what he had just said.

His wife’s school…

His wife…

A simple slip of tongue. But why did it feel so right?

“Only, I won’t be your wife,” she said, her eyes wide behind her spectacles. “Will I?”

He forced his face into a smile. “Of course you won’t be, Jane.”

Even though it felt wonderful to imagine that she, in fact, would be in his life every day. That he would be tasting her lips, making love to her every night, talking to her. Just seeing her, just being in her presence would make his days brighter.

His chest ached with the dream of something he would never have.

He looked out of the window at the shabby houses, people sitting on the streets and begging, menacing men talking with their faces close together, women standing on the corners, prostituting themselves.

To distract himself, he said, “I just meant starting something here may be a smart idea. Buying land here would not be expensive, and building something using the local workforce would give local people work and money. Give them jobs.”

“That sounds wonderful, Richard,” she said.

He locked eyes with her. This was what she did. She’d opened up a whole new vision of life for him. He nodded. “I need to ask Spencer. He has a knack for these things…”

His voice trailed off as he realized the second slip of the tongue he’d committed today and saw Jane’s eyes growing sad. He shook his head.

“Ask Spencer? What am I talking about? We still don’t know where he is or if he’s alive.”

“You must believe that he is.”

He nodded, something in his chest breaking. “I don’t want to ever lose a brother again.”

She swallowed. “Did you lose a brother before?”

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “Growing up, Preston was my closest friend. I worshipped him. I was barely six when Spencer and Preston got into a bad fight, and they sent Preston to the boarding school in Scotland. One day, he was just gone.”

Her face softened with understanding, her eyes filling with an empathetic sorrow. “I understand. Something very similar happened with me and Thorne.”

His brows knitted together. “Didn’t you two grow up together?”

Jane nodded. “Thorne was a lot older than me, but we were close. But something so serious happened between him and Papa that Papa chased him away.”

“It felt like he abandoned you, didn’t it?”