Page 15 of Her Rake Fiancé

The man who’d been robbed looked quite well-off compared to the rest of them, while in reality he must be nothing more than a footman in a merchant’s home.

“I will compensate you personally,” Jane said and took her own purse from under her apron. Thorne wanted her to be safe and always told her to have a purse with her. Money was security, he told her. And he had plenty of it. She held out a pound to the man. A pound equaled half a footman’s monthly wage. “On top of what Alfie tried to steal, which, obviously, you didn’t allow. For your trouble. Please.”

The man’s anger was placated, and he began breathing easier, staring at the pound. He grasped the pound and shoved red-cheeked Alfie, who ran away with Peter, Lily, and the rest of the children right behind him.

“Thank you,” Jane said to the man, who didn’t even acknowledge her as he turned around, pushing her pound into his pocket, and left, his shoes squelching in the mud. The crowd began dissipating, too, and she hurried after the children she could see twenty or so feet down the street, her loyal Hercules running by her side.

She found them as she made her way into a small cul-de-sac, the children gathered around Alfie in a small, protective wall. She gently pushed through them and sank to a crouch before the boy, who was still shaking with sharp child’s sobs as he tried to calm himself down, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands and leaving dark smudges around his eyes like a mask.

“It’s all right, Alfie,” she said as she looked into his still-terrified eyes. “He’s gone. He won’t do anything. You’re safe.”

His upper lip was wet with snot, and she handed him a handkerchief. He wiped his nose and his eyes, leaving black marks on the fabric. “How’s your ear? Show it to me, please.”

He turned to her, and she narrowed her eyes, studying the red and swollen skin. Hercules yelped and began licking the boy’s ear.

“Come back to school with me,” she said. “I’ll bring a soothing salve I have at home. It’ll be all right.”

Alfie gave a dry sob and sighed out. “Thank you, Miss Grant,” he said in a small voice.

“It’s quite all right.” She smiled and squeezed his thin, bony shoulder. “That’s why you need to come to my school and learn. All of you,” she said as she looked around at their big-eyed, scared faces. “So that you would find honest employment and would not need to steal, pickpocket, and do other things. Can you see that?”

“But I haven’t eaten today,” said Alfie. “And Mother told me to go and get me own food.”

Jane nodded. “I quite understand. Tell you what, all of you, I’ll have Monsieur Beaumont prepare you sandwiches. And from now on, I will bring breakfast and lunch to school for the whole class so that you don’t have to worry about it. If I do that, do you promise you won’t steal again?”

The children gazed at her with big, surprised eyes and nodded.

Jane smiled. “Good. Come along now.”

As she led her small flock of scared but hopeful children back to school, she felt like she had just won a small victory against their past and was more optimistic that education could provide them a better future.

This was yet another confirmation that she needed to get Lord Richard the information he sought and extract herself from this engagement as soon as possible. The longer the engagement continued, the more likely it was she’d be expected to marry the man.

This work was important. She had the power to change lives. And she’d never be able to keep teaching these children as a lord’s wife living in Mayfair.

7

Thirteen days until the wedding…

The next day, Jane was in the middle of her class. With a lightness in her chest and a smile on her lips, she kept reading The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes. Seven pairs of eyes were wide and glistening as the children listened to her.

The difference from yesterday was shocking. Her new approach was working.

This story was entertaining and yet could show them the value of education far better than any of Jane’s own words would. After the first chapter, she asked the children questions and they told her about their favorite parts, and, to her surprise, replied eagerly. She decided to do this after each chapter.

After she finished the book, she’d go back to the alphabet but would still read them stories in between lessons.

On the desk by the left wall, there were plates of cheese and roast beef sandwiches, waiting for lunch. A carafe of lemonade stood nearby. The remnants of the children’s breakfast—white plates almost licked clean of crumbs from oat scones, toast, and pastries—had been cleared away.

Thorne’s cook had complained a little, but he knew better than to argue with the feared and beloved master’s sister, who was the most important thing in the world to him. And Thorne wouldn’t mind. He had a big heart under that cold, cast-iron chest of his, and he gave generously to the community.

When she’d brought him her idea for the school, he hadn’t even blinked an eye before telling her yes, she could have anything she needed for it.

Hercules lay by the door, his head on his paws, lifting it any time Jane’s and his eyes met and wagging his tail. Of course, it didn’t help that the room smelled like food, and he threw sad, impatient glances at the desk with the sandwiches.

Suddenly, Hercules jumped to his feet and stood at the door, yapping without menace, his tail wagging.

“Hercules, down,” Jane said strictly as the children lifted their heads. “I may have made a mistake letting you be here. Maybe you need to take a place at one of those desks and learn reading and writing, too. Sit.”