Page 78 of An Uncommon Earl

Mr. Barrett accepted his thanks with a grim nod. “A crime such as this must never happen again, Lord Bloxley.”

The next morning, Alexander sat at his desk in his study at Claremont House and stared at the blank piece of paper before him. It had been a long, sleepless night. His discussion with Mr. Barrett had been far lengthier than he’d anticipated, and it had been almost midnight by the time he’d reached the townhouse. With her usual unflappable expertise, the housekeeper had had his bedchamber ready within minutes of his unexpected and late arrival, and Cook had even managed to heat up a bowl of soup for him to eat before he’d retired.

Indeed, he’d had every reason to sleep well. He was back in his own bed after a long and tiring day, the missing Foundling Hospital boys had been found and returned to their rightful places, and the director was moving ahead with legal charges against the Stanley brothers. Unfortunately, reason was not a good master of sleep, and he had spent much of the night agonizing over Jane’s negative response to his request to court her and wondering what he could have done differently.

Now he sat in his uncomfortably quiet house trying to decide how to compose a letter to the woman who had stolen his heart but who did not wish to share his life.

Claremont House

12 May 1788

Dear Miss Hadford

Alexander stared at the name floating on a sea of white parchment. It would not do. No matter if she wished him to keep his distance, she would always be Jane to him. There could be no going back to a former formality. He wadded up the piece of paper and threw it into the bin beneath his desk. Withdrawing another sheet from the drawer, he began again.

Claremont House

12 May 1788

Dear Jane,

I am writing to inform you that Mr. Toole (a Bow Street Runner under my employ) successfully located the missing wards of the Foundling Hospital in the village of Norton Ripley on Saturday. Upon receiving his letter to that effect, I joined him there, and together we removed David and Elijah from Jasper Stanley’s employ. Although we were fortunate to find them so soon after learning of their fate, our rescue came too late for the third and oldest boy, Daniel, who died in a chimney fire over a year ago.

While Mr. Toole remained with the Stanleys in Norton Ripley, I continued on to London with David and Elijah, and they are now safely returned to the Foundling Hospital. Once they have had time to settle there, I intend to make another visit to ensure that they have adjusted successfully to the dramatic change in their lives.

Mr. Barrett, the director of the Foundling Hospital, met with me for some time afterward. He and I will both be filing charges against the Stanley brothers. He also informed me that they have already relocated the baby formerly in Mrs. Stanley’s care to another wet nurse in Surrey, and although they are actively searching for a new place for Asher, it is proving more difficult because of his age. I reassured him that Asher will be well cared for until a new assignment is made.

Sincerely,

Alexander

Blotting the ink dry, Alexander folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. He had done what he set out to do. Jane would receive the update, and he would concentrate on locating and informing the appropriate magistrates of George Stanley’s and Jasper Stanley’s crimes. He had no need to think on her again until he returned to Bloxley Hall. With a groan, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Not thinking about her was going to be impossible.

Chapter 25

“Alice must huwwy.” Asher’s hands were cupped over an escaping frog on the table. “He doesn’t want to swim anymore.”

“I’m sure she’s gathering what we need just as fast as she can,” Jane said, catching another frog as it leaped from the table.

When over half a dozen frogs had suddenly decided to abandon Asher’s jar in favor of exploring the nursery, Alice had volunteered to go outside to find a larger container and some sticks for the frogs to sit on.

“Why did they all start jumping at the same time?” Asher asked.

“I don’t know,” Jane said, dropping the frog she’d caught back into the jar just in time to go after another one. “But they are certainly determined.”

“Lord Bloxley would know,” Asher said sadly. “He said he would come back soon, but he hasn’t been here for ages.”

Four long and tortuous days to be exact. Four days of rain confining her to the house; four days of listening to her mother’s tirades about what a terrible mistake she was making in adopting Asher; four days since she’d opened up about her heart-wrenching and private reality in a letter.

Jane had stayed true to her word and had told the earl of her inability to bear children. It had been the most difficult missive she’d ever penned—and he had not responded. The dreary weather and her mother’s anger were nothing to the agony she experienced each time Albert entered a room carrying a salver of letters. Aunt Millward’s worried frown when he announced that there were no letters for Jane only increased her despair. And yet, there was nothing that could be done. She could only hope that Alexander would keep her confidence even if friendship was no longer a possibility.

“’Ere we are. I think this should do the trick.” Alice burst into the room, her shoes wet and her cloak dripping with moisture. “They ’ad an extra bucket in the stable, and these sticks should be long enough, don’t you think?”

She set the bucket on the table. A handful of sticks of varying sizes leaned up against the inside of the container, and an inch of water sloshed around at the bottom.

“How do we get them all in there?” Asher asked, peering into the bucket.

“I could try pourin’ in the water from the jar, and you watch for any frogs that try t’ get away,” Alice said.