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“I’ve news, as well.” He took the seat across from her. “I’ve learned that the ship arrives tomorrow. The one on which Camille left.”

She gasped as she met his gaze. “That’s wonderful,” she answered automatically though her insides clenched. While she was happy that he might get some answers, a nervousness filled her stomach. Once she’d spoken with the sailors, he no longer needed her. Life would change again and he would surely become another small participant in hers. He had more important commitments than spending time with her every day. She was sure of it. Part of her wanted to ask what his next step would be if he discovered where his sister had gone, but she was too afraid of the answer. Instead she picked at her food.

At least she’d be able to find a position and a future of her own. She had him to thank for that. “Tricia also asked about a picnic to follow up the dinner last night.”

She waved her hand. It was likely unwise, but she couldn’t bring herself to think of any of those men as suitors. She didn’t need or want any man in her life. Except…perhaps…Matthew. “Unnecessary.”

His hand reached for hers across the table. The contact surprised her and she looked up into his warm brown eyes, which crinkled at the edges with a soft smile. “I quite agree.”

Why? She wanted to ask. Why did he agree? Did he think she was also better suited to work with orphans? Where she could give love that might actually be returned? But before she could get the words out to ask, he’d pushed his chair back.

“Let’s go for a stroll about the park before your tour. We should catch a bit of sun while it lasts.”

She shook off her questions, her shoulders drooping. It was probably better. Somehow, she didn’t want to hear him say that she’d be better working than marrying. If he did, it might break her heart completely and confirm what she knew deep inside. No man found her suitable for love. This was the reason she had to protect her heart.

Matthew gazed at Ella across the carriage, wondering once again why she remained so quiet this morning? She wasn’t ever bothersome in her chatter, but she usually understood how to keep a polite conversation going. She was a master at it, really. One more trait he found remarkable about her.

But today, she remained silent. All through their walk and now the carriage ride, she’d hardly spoken nor had she glanced his way. Was she embarrassed? Angry perhaps? Nervous?

His feelings and thoughts hadn’t completely formed where Ella was concerned but he knew one thing. He would not allow her to slip away as his sister had done. Somehow or other, he’d keep her in his life.

The carriage rolled to a stop and the door snapped open. Matthew climbed out and handed Ella down. Tucking her hand into his arm, he led her up the stairs and used the knocker on the door. It swung quickly open and an older woman in an apron answered, giving them a quick bob as a curtsey. “Come in,” she waved them forward. “Are you Miss McIntyre?”

“I am,” Ella returned as they stepped inside. “Thank you so much for seeing me.”

The woman looked her up and down and then up and down again. “You’re here for a job?”

“I am.” She gave the woman an easy smile. “Don’t let the clothing fool you, they are a gift, no more.”

That didn’t sit right with Matthew. He looked her up and down, her natural grace and gentle curves making her light blue wool dress look fine beyond compare. Ella wasn’t fooling anyone. She was more a lady than any he had met. She shouldn’t be humbling herself. Every word, every move, spoke of elegance and grace. But he didn’t have time to articulate it as the older woman waved them forward.

“I am Mrs. Bentley, pleased to meet you.” She closed the door behind them. “Lady Sussex will join us shortly but I wondered if you’d like to come with me to the foundling room. Taking care of all those babies takes many hands.” Then she turned to him, her eyes appraising. “If you’d like to wait in the parlor—”

But he stopped her. “If it’s hands you’ll need, I’ll donate mine too.”

Mrs. Bentley’s eyes rounded but she gave a nod of consent as she led the way up the stairs. Matthew could hear the babies before he saw them, the cries of wee little ones.

“It breaks my heart to hear them cry like that,” Ella whispered.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mrs. Bentley said. “Hold any of the ones that are crying. I’ll be in with a bottle and then we can change their linens.” She nodded toward the door to their right. “Don’t forget to hold their heads when you pick them up and they like movement. Walk or bounce.”

Then the older woman disappeared, leaving Ella and Matthew alone in the hall. “My goodness,” Ella said, looking a bit frightened as she clasped her hands together and stared at him with large eyes.

Placing his hand at her back, he gave her a wink. “I suppose we should get started.”

“I can see this is a busy place,” she murmured.

He was right behind her. “Does that bother you?”

“Oh no, not at all.” She crossed to the baby who was squalling from its bassinet. Picking up the tiny child she cradled it in her arms. “I should like to feel useful. To think I am making a difference. I just don’t want to do anything wrong.”

But he couldn’t answer. The sight of her with a baby cradled in her arms as she gazed down at the tiny face made his breath stop in his chest.

Suddenly, he knew. He loved her. He should marry her. It was ridiculous to try and hold her at arm’s length any longer. A warmth, unlike any other, spread through his chest at the knowledge. This was his future.

She was meant to bear his children and together, they would heal the wounds of their hearts.

“Ella,” he started but he didn’t have a chance to finish.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical