Page 102 of A Relentless Rake

His face remained carefully impassive. “Not quite all.”

She knew what he meant. Another loose end to tie up… “Ah, yes, the girls.” She forced a grateful smile and conceded past the knot in her throat, “It was very kind of you to take them into St James House.”

“It was nothing. The girls whose families live in London were taken home this morning, and the house has enough rooms to accommodate the rest until decisions can be made about the school.”

Looking at the fire’s remains, she nodded, although he was wrong. There were no decisions to make. The school was finished.

He continued, “Mrs. Adams and Miss Smith have decided to carry on with lessons there, to keep the girls occupied. Apparently, my library has become a geography classroom.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was frowning. “There’s a liquor tantalus there in the shape of a globe.”

Despite the tears threatening at her lashes, Olivia gave a small laugh. The Earl of St James had turned into a schoolgirls’ savior. To upheave his own life like this, just to help a group of girls… She never would have believed that of him only a few short weeks ago. Proof, she supposed, that people could change.

But not enough to save her heart, and his kindness only made her futilely love him more.

“They’re driving Bivvens and the staff mad with their giggles and energy.” He added with a grimace, “I don’t think the Greek urn in the hall is going to survive.”

“My apologies.” She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms across her chest. She was as cold as the colorless day around them. “I’ll send word to all their parents today to let them know that the school is closed and to ask them to come for the girls as soon as possible. But the…”

But the scholarship girls.She couldn’t admit her fears about them without sobbing and making an emotional cake of herself in front of him. They had no families, no money, no place to go except back into the streets where she’d found them. The school might only have been a building, but it had also been a place of refuge for so many of them. Just as it had been with her. How could she ever keep them safe now?

“They can stay at St James House as long as necessary,” he offered gently. “Until another building can be found for your school.”

She shook her head, unable to answer. There was no money for another building, not even to rent a small one in an even less fashionable area than here, and without Henry’s help, she’d never be able to run it.

“Don’t worry,” Alec assured her, misreading her silence. “The house is more than big enough to accommodate all of them, and the excitement is good for Bivvens. The old man’s as stodgy as King George and could use a little disruption to spice up his life.” He paused, suddenly thoughtful. “I’m beginning to think that a little disruption is good for the lot of us. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Warning prickled across her skin. “What do you mean?”

“I spoke to my mother this morning.”

Olivia caught her breath. “About…your father?”

“Among other things.” He glanced up at the gray sky as if to gauge how soon the next round of rain would come. Olivia read it for what it was—an excuse not to look at her. “She was devastated to learn the truth and angry that I’d kept it from her all these years, that I didn’t tell her when it first happened so she could have stopped it. But it was good she hadn’t known. God only knows what the old earl would have done to her if she’d interfered.”

“Alec…” His name was barely more than a breath.

He grimaced at a low-hanging cloud. “We’ll both be fine.”

The finality of that told her not to press for more, that he wouldn’t share with her the rest of his conversation with his mother. Olivia understood and didn’t fault him for it. His private life was no longer any of her concern. His anguish had finally been relegated to the past. Exactly as it should have been.

She could find happiness for him in that, at least, even if her heart was breaking. “I’m glad to hear—”

“We also decided to support the Everett School.”

She squeaked out, “Pardon?”

“Mother thinks it would be a marvelous opportunity for me to become involved with a respectable organization.” His mouth turned slightly downward, the unrepentant rake in him distressed at the idea of propriety. “I also want St James House returned to my private residence again as soon as possible.” Then he added in a murmur, “I have new plans for the place.”

Of course he did. He would want to return to the life she’d interrupted. She didn’t know whether to sing for joy that her school would now be able to survive or to wail in pain that she’d lost him.

She had no idea what her future would bring, but at least she’d have her school. Somehow, she’d make that be enough. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he warned with mock sternness. “This deal hinges on the survival of that Greek urn.”

“Then I’d best get your signed agreement now,” she teased despite the heaviness crushing her chest.

He sent her a lazy smile, only for it to fade as he promised, “You have my word.” He reached inside his coat. “I also have this for you. I found it here in the rear yard when I was looking through the debris.”

He pulled out a limp and dirty bag of rags—Cora’s doll. Its little dress was singed from the embers, but otherwise, it appeared safe and sound.