An Orphan for the Broken Duke (The Wicked Dukes Society #5)

Chapter 1

One

“Lucy, what do you have there?” Violet Beaumont called out just as Lucy walked around the corner. “What is that…”

Lucy was a little girl of three years old.

Even at that age, she was small in stature, far too skinny, and she always walked with her shoulders hunched and her posture withdrawn, which made her seem even smaller.

Her hair was dark black, worn straight, and it fell to her waist; she had a habit of using it to cover her face.

A shame too, because her face was adorable, with her big green eyes and rosy cheeks.

She had been hiding for the past hour—a fact that had worried Violet because she had spent the hour searching for the girl. Although she knew that Lucy was not one to run away, she was also not one to ask for help if she needed it. She was far too shy for that.

So, when she appeared around the corner of the building, having come from the alleyway, Violet breathed a sigh of relief and hurried for her.

As she did, she spied something clutched to the girl’s chest.

Is that a stuffed bear?

“Where did you find that?” Violet reached the young girl and crouched down.

“There.” Lucy pointed quickly back towards the alley. She was not one for words, and it had taken Violet months to build enough trust between them that she spoke to her at all.

“A new friend?” Violet chuckled, eyeing the item that the little girl held. “Have you named him? Or her?”

“No.” Lucy shook her head.

“Can I take a look?” Violet held her hand out, hoping the girl would trust her enough to hand it over.

She did, albeit with some hesitancy. Lucy’s life was one of tragedy, as all the children of her orphanage were, so to give up something that belonged to her was difficult. But her face grew determined beneath the fallen strands of hair, and she slowly held the stuffed animal out.

Violet laughed gently as she went to take it, and then she retched.

Oh no…

It was not a stuffed animal at all! Rather, it was an old shoe. Now that Lucy held it out, Violet saw it clearly. It was made of leather, but so worn and wet and moldy that it had shrunk down and become misshapen. Violet grimaced with both sadness and a little pity.

“Lucy…” She smiled sadly as she took the old, worn shoe. “This is… you should not have this. It is not to play with.”

“Why?” Lucy looked helplessly at Violet.

“It is not a toy. Please…” Crouched down, she met the young girl’s eyes. “Trust me, Lucy. Do you trust me?”

“I do,” Lucy said, even if her tone was disappointed. “I trust you.”

That she did at all spoke volumes about how far they had come, and Violet wondered how this interaction might have gone just a few months ago. But the little girl did not try to take back the shoe, and for that, Violet was grateful.

That she is so desperate for a toy or a friend that she might mistake a thrown-out shoe as something to hold dear… it breaks my heart.

“Hurry inside,” Violet said as she stood back up, holding the old shoe at arm’s length. “I will be in shortly. Go on, now.”

Lucy looked hopefully at the shoe a final time, then she turned and skulked toward the front door of the large building before ducking inside.

Violet hurried around the alleyway and tossed the shoe back into the gutter. Then she wiped her hands on her dress, and she laughed. As sad as that little interaction was, she would not trade it for anything. Such was how much she loved those days spent at the orphanage.

Free of the shoe that was certainly not a toy, Violet turned and hurried around the building.

It was a large warehouse—one that might have once housed various wares brought in through the harbor that was not so far away.

From there, such wares would be taken to London, several days north.

It felt a world away to Violet, as it did for all the children.

Now, the building had been transformed into an orphanage.

It was huge in size, but that did not mean it was comfortable.

There were dozens of children of all ages crammed into the large space.

There weren’t enough beds for them, and nowhere near enough workers to watch over them either.

Food was sparse. Toys sparser still. At most, it offered them a roof over their head which, considering the history of most of the children, was a blessing not to be sneezed at.

As for Violet’s place in the orphanage? She was a helper. There was no pay involved. There was no future. But the chance to help the children, to make them believe that they were loved, was all the pay that she needed.

Such was her way…

When Violet walked into the orphanage she did a quick scan, searching for Lucy. There were dozens of children running about, playing and screaming and having fun, but Lucy was not one of them.

As was common, she was sitting in the corner, alone, always too shy to involve herself with others. Violet smiled softly and made her way towards her.

“Miss Violet! Miss Violet!” the children cried out as she moved through them.

“I see you,” she laughed.

“Look here!” another called. “See what I drew!”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Michael,” she assured the young boy as she continued towards Lucy.

Violet was always sure to spend as much time with all the children as possible. There were far too few carers to go around, and she hated thinking that any of the children were being neglected. But always, Lucy came first.

It had not been something that she planned, but there was just something about the little girl that made Violet feel safe.

She had started working at the orphanage because she had needed something in her life that was simple, that would allow her to forget her own woes and struggles, and Lucy did that for her.

And the more Lucy warmed up to her, the more Violet knew how much she was coming to care for the little girl as if she were her own.

“What are we doing over here?” Violet asked when she reached Lucy.

“Nothing,” Lucy said.

“I can see that,” Violet laughed. “Would you like some company? Perhaps we can read something together?”

It was subtle, always careful, but Lucy beamed. “Yes, please.”

She spent the next hour sitting with Lucy and reading. Lucy said little throughout, but she sat close to Violet the whole time, one hand on her leg as if she was afraid to let go.

Violet might have stayed there for even longer were it not for the fact that she was soon interrupted by Miss Wilks, the head carer at the orphanage.

She was a kindly old lady, the type who always wore a bright smile and had far too much energy for one who walked with a crooked back and knobbly knees.

“There you are!” she hurried towards Violet and Lucy. “Violet, I have been looking for you. Oh, my!”

“Miss Wilks.” Violet smiled at her. “What has gotten you in such a fright?”

“A fright might be a nice way of putting it!” Miss Wilks fidgeted with her hands. She was clearly nervous. “I just received word that His Grace is coming to visit. He should be here any minute.”

“His Grace?” Violet frowned.

“The Duke of Ashmere!” Miss Wilks cried. “One of the orphanage’s main benefactors.”

“Oh…” Violet shrugged. “What of it?”

She had heard of the duke, of course, but she had never seen or met him.

Why would she have? While she appreciated that he gave money to the orphanage, she doubted that he cared about it.

In her mind, he likely did so for reasons of appearance, knowing that such philanthropy would make him appear kind of heart.

Personally, Violet did not have time for such people as that.

“He has not been here in years,” Miss Wilks said. “And that he has chosen to come now…” Her wrinkled face scrunched into a tight ball. “You know how we struggle, Violet. How tight our funds are. He probably wishes to assess his investment.”

“They are not an investment, Miss Wilks. They are children.”

“Oh, I know that! But does he?” She looked around as the panic grew. “If he takes one look at this place, he might decide it is not worth the cost.”

Violet winced, realizing the truth of Miss Wilks’ words.

“What should we do? If anything?”

“Show him that we have everything in order,” she said, nodding her head as if coming up with a plan on the spot. “Hopefully, he will pop in, see that all is well, and leave.”

“And if he does not?”

She clicked her tongue. “We will cross that bridge when it comes.” With that said, Miss Wilks turned and hurried off. As she did, she spoke to some of the other carers, giving directions with large sweeps of her arms.

Violet exhaled, ignoring the sinking feeling that appeared in her stomach. She was certain that everything would be fine… or she wanted to believe that.

Unfortunately, Violet had little reason to trust a duke, or anybody of the peerage for that matter.

After all, men of their ilk were the reason that her life had fallen into such squalor, as they cared not for people, only what they could squeeze from them.

Money. Self-interest. That was their primary concern, and she doubted that His Grace was any different.

With that in mind, Violet chose to stay with Lucy. When the duke arrived, he would see how well the children were cared for, and then he would leave. At least that was what she hoped.

The duke arrived ten minutes later.

When Violet saw him walk through the front doors, she decided that he was exactly what she expected.

His stature was tall and physically imposing; among the children, he looked like a giant.

Hair as dark as burned wood, a face that was made up of hard lines and straight edges, all perfectly symmetrical in a way that was handsome, but a little too much.

And as he walked, it was with a gait of importance and superiority.

Typical. He does not want to be here, nor does he pretend otherwise.

Only then, as he looked around the warehouse, Violet noticed his eyes. They were deep gray, but they were not menacing. In fact, as he observed the children playing, it appeared as if the sight saddened him… as if he truly felt grief for what he was witnessing.

“Who is that?” Lucy asked.

“Nobody,” Violet said quickly. “He is not important.”

She tried to distract herself by reading to Lucy but could not stop watching the duke. He walked through the warehouse with Miss Wilks, who spoke with animation as she pointed out various facilities.

His path brought him closer to Violet and Lucy. Then, he looked right at her… no, not at her. It was Lucy whom the duke seemed to notice. He found Lucy watching him, his stare held, and then a soft smile found his lips that Violet had not expected.

“And who is this?” the duke asked as he approached them both; his voice was deep, and Violet felt it through her chest.

“This is Miss Violet Beaumont,” Miss Wilks swept in. “One of our carers. She is a volunteer, loved by all the children. Few work as hard as she does.”

“No, I meant this little creature.” He stood over Lucy and Violet, and not once did he look away from the small girl. “Good afternoon,” he said to Lucy as he leaned forward. “What is your name?”

His voice, while deep, was surprisingly gentle. And still, those gray eyes of his appeared sad for reasons that Violet could not explain.

Typically, Lucy did not respond. Rather, she grabbed at Violet’s skirt and pulled it over her face as if to hide.

The duke chuckled. “She is a shy one.”

“Not shy,” Violet found herself saying, as if she needed to defend Lucy. “She just does not trust easily. And why would she trust someone who has not earned it?”

The duke started in surprise, and he finally looked straight at her.

It was not done in anger at her tone, but with amusement. He frowned as he looked at her, and Violet found herself scowling in a way that she did not mean, but could not help. Lucy continued to hide, and Violet felt a need to protect her.

“Violet!” Miss Wilks cried in embarrassment. “Forgive her, Your Grace. She is just protective of the children, as we all are.”

He studied Violet a moment longer. His gray eyes not so much looking at her, as through her.

Violet’s heart raced, determined not to break her stare.

While the duke had done nothing wrong, she knew his type.

She had experienced men like him her whole life, and she refused to give him any sense that he had power over her.

Then he glanced at Lucy, who was still hiding. The smile on his lips returned for a moment as he watched her… a shadow passing behind his eyes, the sadness still there as if he wanted her to see it.

“Clearly, these two are inseparable,” he said finally, as he stood back up. “I admire that.”

Miss Wilks looked warningly at Violet, and Violet grimaced with embarrassment. They were supposed to be making a good impression, and Violet had done the exact opposite of that.

Very well done, Violet. Next time, slap him across the face, why don’t you?

“Let me show you the drawing area…” Miss Wilks gestured for the duke to follow her. “As I was saying, we are stretched rather thin here, but we make do.”

“And as I have said, if money is what you need, you will have it.”

“If only that would solve everything,” Miss Wilks sighed.

“While I do appreciate any that you can offer, it will simply not be enough. It is this building; it is beyond saving. I fear that soon we might have to close our doors, forcing the children to be shipped off to other orphanages. Or worse, left on the street…”

Their voices slowly faded as they walked away.

Violet found herself watching the duke go. She was so determined to have a certain opinion of him, but nothing she had seen confirmed it. What was more, he had offered more money to help… was it possible that she had been wrong about him? Surely not.

“He was scary,” Lucy said as she dropped the skirt from her face.

“Yes…” Violet watched him speaking with Miss Wilks, and noted that he wore a sadness in his eyes as he looked over the children. “Very scary.”

Scary was not the word Violet might have chosen. He was intimidating. He was certainly self-assured and confident. But, scary? No… despite her reservations, even Violet had to admit that there was so much more to the Duke of Ashmere than that.