Page 105 of Make Mine a Marquess

He made sure to change his voice to fit the characters, especially the wolf disguised as the grandmother. As he kept reading, four other children appeared. Some of the children were older, four to ten, and they eagerly listened and laughed as he grew more and more animated. His heart raced and he smiled, enjoying himself as much as the children.

When he was finally done, both mothers and children clapped.

“More!” twins shouted out.

“Next time.” He surprised himself with a promise he had every intention of keeping. He would come again. For the first time since the house party, he felt a sense of satisfaction…happiness.

Beads of perspiration had formed on his brow. Once more, he eyed the sealed casement. “It’s a bit warm in here. Why don’t you open the window?”

“The casement is broken.”

He stood from the rocking chair and picked up his tool bag. “Show me.”

This time, there was no hesitation from the women.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A low knock on the door startled Phoebe. Her maid entered holding a piece of foolscap. “This just arrived for you, miss. The boy who delivered it said it was from the Society and urgent.”

Phoebe tore open the parchment and scanned its contents. She covered her mouth in shock.

“What is it?” Beatrice asked. Her friend had arrived to help her finish packing.

Phoebe’s hand shook as she held the letter. “An anonymous donor has given ten thousand pounds to the Society of Unwed Mothers!”

“Goodness! That’s a fortune! Who could it be?”

Phoebe’s mind spun as she thought of possibilities. Perhaps one of the women who’d been helped by the Society had married a rich man. Or maybe an aristocrat without an heir had had a sudden pang of conscience. Or a winner from the nearby gambling house had experienced a drunken fit of generosity and goodwill.

She had no idea.

“They’re asking for me to visit.” The letter slipped from her fingers, fluttering to her escritoire. Phoebe, who’d been busy packing, now reached for one of her boots. Thankfully, her mother was out shopping and couldn’t question her departure. “I must go! I’ve been meaning to stop by to see the women before I leave for Scotland.”

“Go swiftly!” Beatrice said. “I have a good feeling about all of this.”

…

Mrs. Hastings met her in the front room. It was warm, but the window was open, and a welcoming breeze blew tendrils of hair brushing Phoebe’s cheeks.

“I received the letter,” Phoebe said. “The donation is most generous!”

“It’s more than generous,” Mrs. Hastings said. “It’s overwhelming. We will use some of the money for much-needed repairs and to make room for more women. We also intend to invest some—done wisely, the interest should help us for years to come.”

The woman was not only good with the young mothers, but a shrewd businesswoman. “Who do you suppose was the donor?” Phoebe asked. “We must thank him.”

“I believe he’s here.”

“Here? Now?” Phoebe scanned the room. “Where?”

“Upstairs reading to the children. He’s a most unusual lord. He never gave his full name, but his manners proclaim him a titled gentleman.”

Phoebe blinked. “Who could…” Before she could finish, a sudden rush of anticipation coursed through her. “A lord, you say?”

Phoebe felt faint. Could it be?

“When he first showed up, he said he knew you. That’s why Fiona let him in. Then he read to the children. A simple fairytale of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ and they loved him. Then he surprised us even more by fixing our broken casement and promising to return for more repairs. I thought him strange, at first, but then most welcome. He kept his promise and came back with more tools.”

A lord who fixes things. “Where is…”