Page 17 of An Uncommon Earl

“It does,” Lady Millward said. “But over the years, the directors have also admitted infants belonging to single mothers who cannot care for their babies alone.”

“If a mother delivers a baby to the hospital, she is allowed to take a token—something that ties her to the child—when she leaves so she has a way of identifying him or her afterward,” Miss Hadford said, and then her voice became more hushed. “My aunt and I witnessed this today when we went to the hospital to visit the art gallery. The young woman in question left the building with a scrap of fabric torn from her baby’s swaddling blanket.”

Alexander reached into his vest pocket. His heart thumped hard and fast through the silk fabric as he withdrew the string with its attached piece of muslin. He held it out to Miss Hadford.

“Did it look like this?”

She nodded, and Alexander recognized a new emotion in Miss Hadford’s eyes. Hope. And it shone so brightly it was impossible not to be stirred by it.

“The young woman left with one piece, and the other remained with the child’s papers,” she said.

He wrapped his fingers around the makeshift necklace and squeezed it tight. If Miss Hadford was right and the Foundling Hospital had a matching piece of fabric, his search might be over.

“I shall visit the hospital straightaway,” he said.

Lady Millward came to her feet, a pleased expression on her face. “Most wise,” she said, and the peacock feathers waved their approval. “My carriage is ready, waiting outside your front door. You may ride with us.”

He had not expected the two ladies to accompany him, but refusing her ladyship’s offer would be exceedingly bad form, especially after their efforts to reach him so quickly.

“Thank you, Lady Millward,” he said, and then he moved to stand beside Miss Hadford’s chair and offered her his arm. “May I escort you back to the carriage, Miss Hadford?”

For the second time that morning, he saw her blush. “Thank you, my lord.”

Using her cane for balance, she pulled herself to her feet and set her hand upon his forearm. Her touch was surprisingly light, given her need of assistance, and yet he was unnervingly aware of it.

“To the Foundling Hospital, then,” Lady Millward said, and notwithstanding she was in his study, in his house, she led them out of the room.

Half an hour later, they entered the lobby of the hospital in the same order. Lady Millward’s heels clacked sharply on the tile floor as she walked directly toward a gentleman who was sitting behind a large desk, writing something in a leather-bound book. As she approached, he raised his head, glancing first at Lady Millward and then at the two people following in her wake. His gaze instantly fixed upon Alexander, and behind the wire rims of his spectacles, his eyes widened.

Surreptitiously straightening his cravat, the man offered a deferential bow.

“Lord Bloxley,” he said. “Welcome to the Foundling Hospital.”

“Thank you,” Alexander said. “And you are?”

“Wilbur Morris, my lord. I am Mr. Barrett’s assistant.” He puffed out his chest. “Mr. Barrett is the hospital’s director, you understand.”

“I see. Then would you please inform Mr. Barrett that I wish to speak with him.”

Mr. Morris’s face fell. “Unfortunately, he’s unavailable, my lord.”

Lady Millward leaned over the desk and dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “Few men are unavailable when an earl requests an audience, Mr. Morris. I would advise you to take a moment to reconsider your answer.”

Alexander battled to keep his humor from showing. Her ladyship certainly lived by her own rules, but he found her approach rather refreshing. Willing to play along for the time being, he forced a stern expression, and Mr. Morris swallowed hard.

“Forgive me, my lord. What I meant to say is that Mr. Barrett would be honored to speak with you, but he is currently away on business.”

“And when do you expect him to return?”

“Not for a fortnight, at least.”

Alexander clenched his jaw. He could not drag this business on that long. “It is a matter of some urgency, Mr. Morris.”

He felt Miss Hadford’s grip on his arm tighten. Instantly concerned that she had been standing too long, he turned to her, grateful to discover no hint of weariness in her face. Instead, her animated eyes met his.

“If Mr. Morris takes care of registering all the children, he may actually be your best resource,” she said softly.

“Indeed.” The rather pompous assistant had obviously overheard Miss Hadford’s suggestion. “I am happy to be of assistance to you, my lord. I am very familiar with the running of the hospital.”