Chapter 34 Derek #2
“But if you prefer… I can provide you with…” He dropped his voice. “Exclusive seduction.” He still wanted her—with the desperation of a man wagering the last coin to his name—even if things were different now.
“That is not—I meant no such—you are misunderstanding on purpose, my lord.”
Goodness, she was adorable when she was flustered.
Livy glared at him. “Do you care about anything other than the next woman you’ll bed?”
“Well, of course.” She shot him a skeptical side-eye. “A scant few things,” he agreed. “But there are Ironcrest and the dowager, the Rutledges, my estate and tenants, and, of course, the foundling home.” And The Harborage. But that wasn’t something ever mentioned to those outside the organization.
“The foundling home?” She looked up at him through pinched blonde brows.
“Yes, I run a foundling home with the Duke and Lord Rutledge.”
“Of course you do,” she grumbled under her breath.
He leaned toward her, sure he misunderstood. “This…vexes you?”
Her glare was back. “Yes, in fact, it does,” she said, as if he were a simpleton. “You”—she fluttered her white-gloved hands in front of him—“Lord of Masculine-perfection-and-broody-stares, are supposed to truly be the blackguard you portray yourself to be.”
“Masculine perfection, you say?”
She barreled on, ignoring his interruption. “But no. You save orphans. So yes, I’m angry. Next, you will be telling me you also enjoy curling up on the floor with puppies.” She turned from him in a huff.
The way she spat out the words, they seemed intended to insult; but deep inside his chest, something purred, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from preening like…well, like a peacock. He did allow himself a small grin because of the irony of what he was about to say next.
“Not quite,” he said slowly. “Though I did recently acquire a litter for the foundling home that should be ready to be weaned from their mother soon. It is a good task for the children to help train the pups, and once they’re ready, they’ll be sold to families, and the money goes back into the home. ”
She stared at him, unmoving except for the occasional slow blink. Seconds passed—very long seconds.
“Miss Forester?” Had he broken her? He was dearly tempted to reach out and poke her.
She shook her head and came out of whatever trance she was in, her blue eyes brightening with curiosity. “Will you tell me about the home?”
He leaned toward her, and she inclined her head as he quietly told her about the home while the play continued.
He explained how the home came to be and its rocky beginning when he and Rafe hadn’t known if Rupert would join them—because of Rupert’s haughty mother.
At that time, they couldn’t have funded the home with just the two of them.
“She didn’t want him to partner with you on a foundling home? A foundling home…that saves children? Why in the world not?”
“Bad for his image.”
“Well, that doesn’t make the least bit of sense.” She eyed him like he was the batty one. It hadn’t been his argument.
“I think much of it was association with me and Rafe, our blackened reputations—back then, we were ne’er-do-wells and lacked funds—but much of what the dowager Lady Rutledge does doesn’t make a lick of sense.” His lip curled up in distaste. “Another glowing example of a mother.”
She studied him for a moment, her gaze solemn and…thoughtful. He gripped his leg hard to prevent squirming. This woman so easily saw through the black layers he’d adorned himself with.
“That is why you do it, then.” It wasn’t a question.
He parted his lips but didn’t know how to respond. Something in her tone made him feel oddly vulnerable, as if she’d stolen his clothes again.
She tilted her head. “Abandoned children—whether purposefully by their parents or due to the unfairness of life—saved by men who suffered the same fate.”
He cleared his throat roughly. “In a way, I suppose. I can only speak for myself, but even at my lowest, I was still much better off than these children. My definition of poor—the ton’s definition of poor—is laughable compared to reality.
And I am sure an abusive drunkard of a father would be a dream in comparison to what some of those children have endured. ”
She nodded slowly, still watching him, assessing him. “I think that while it is important to acknowledge the hardship of others—the fact that there will always be others worse off than you… It is equally permissible to admit that you have suffered trials as well.”
She reached out and boldly took his hand, turning it over while she traced his palm over the kidskin leather of his black gloves.
He swallowed hard, his clamoring heart drowning out the buzz of theater guests.
She glanced at him beneath a frill of gold lashes, paralyzed him.
That stare saw more than he’d ever meant her to see.
Usually, he excelled at hiding himself behind sarcasm, rude remarks, and scars healed over to create an impenetrable skin.
But his armor didn’t stand a chance against those blue eyes.
“I have a loving, albeit somewhat distant, father and a roof over my head,” she continued.
“However, it doesn’t negate the pain I feel from the knowledge my mother deemed me lacking, unworthy of her presence.
It doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to have wished for a mother who would have loved me.
It doesn’t mean that I don’t wonder if I had done something different, been someone different, would she have stayed? ”
“Your mother is an idiot,” he said gruffly, pulling his hand away. He shook it out, like he could shake off the way this conversation had his muscles tightening, poised to flee. Her words were too accurate, their shared hurts too similar. It was a dangerous connection.
“As was yours,” she said softly, a sad, commiserating smile tilting her lips. And as if she knew how close he was to bolting, she changed the subject. “Now tell me about the children. How many do you house?”
A soft breath of relief whooshed between his teeth.
“As of right now, we have five-and-thirty permanent residents, but we are bursting at the seams. We have fifteen more staying at the home who are due to move into the second home we’re building, along with five-and-twenty others we have put up with families temporarily until the second home is complete. ”
“Oh my stars. How incredible! A second home!” She leaned forward, her blue eyes shimmering with excitement.
Derek grimaced, and the dark cloud that had hung over him all week came storming back with a vengeance.
She cocked her head, small lines pinching her brow. “Why do you look as though that is a bad thing?”
“Unfortunately, we can no longer afford to build the second home.”
“Oh.” The excitement in her eyes fizzled out.
He mourned the loss more than he should have. He cleared his throat. “That is, unless I marry Lord Wentworth’s daughter,” he said, voice void of emotion. “In which case, he has offered to make a donation large enough that we can continue the build.”
“Oh,” she parroted.
He gave a clipped nod. “We’re short on time.
This build will take time. The longer we delay, the longer we’re cramming all those children together.
We can’t afford to take years to accumulate the funds.
Nor do I want that. This home was going to house hundreds of children.
We need construction to start long before winter hits. ”
Her small, delicate hand landed softly over his hand again. “I’m sorry, Derek.”
She was so earnest, staring up at him, deep blue pools fringed with gold lashes. And he didn’t understand why, but an incredible ache built in his chest.
“Perhaps I can help?” she whispered.
He lifted a brow in silent question.
“It is just another puzzle. If we put our heads together, perhaps we can figure out a way for you to raise the money.”
“It’s a hefty sum, and unfortunately most people aren’t interested in giving their money away without gaining something in return. Rutledge and I have already touched on all options and come up dry.”
She smiled, a spark flaring in her eyes. “Ah, but perhaps what you’re missing is a woman’s mind.”
His lips curled up. Always willing to go to war, this woman. “Not just any woman’s mind. With your mind, Wellington, perhaps we do have a fighting chance.”
But it wasn’t something he was going to allow himself to believe.
Hope was too dangerous a game.