Page 29 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
“Were you close to your parents?”
“I was too young to remember my birth father. My mother remarried when I was only two years old. I remember loving her very much, and she died when I was seven.”
“Oh.” Her heart sank at the thought of him losing his mother at such a young age. “You poor thing. It was hard enough for me to lose my mother, and I was already sixteen.”
“It was dreadfully hard. I suppose what brought me comfort was that my stepfather and stepbrother had a true fondness for me, as though we were related by blood. My stepfather never remarried after her death. I think having two wives predecease him was enough for him. He died four years ago.”
“I am sorry to hear that. And your brother?” she prompted him. “You mentioned he is living in the north with his wife. He cares for a parish there, I believe. Do you visit him?”
“Not as often as I should.” He sighed. “I have been thinking that I should have gone to see him before I took on this position. It will not be so easy to get leave to do so now.”
“It is not too late. Fortunately, the asylum is not a workhouse, either for the children or its stewards.” She smiled at him. “Perhaps you might go this summer?”
“Perhaps,” he said as the carriage slowed and came to a halt. It was probably just as well their conversation was interrupted, for although he had answered her questions, he did not seem eager to offer more than he had to. She did not want to offend him by continuing to pry.
The groom opened the door. “This is the address, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
She waited until Mr. Rowles stepped down and lifted his hand up to take hers. The strength of his grip sent a tingle through her. He held her hand for just a second longer as though to make sure she was firmly set on the ground before he released it.
Geny looked around them. In the distance, she could see some tenement housing, but here the road had more space, andthere were houses along it that seemed to belong to people who earned a correct living. A small forge sat by the side of the humble house in front of them, and a man plunged the glowing iron into a stone basin of water, causing it to sizzle loudly. He set it down and, wiping his hands, came over to see them.
“Mason Cook?” she asked.
“Ay. ’Tis me.”
She glanced at Mr. Rowles, who stepped forward.
“I am the steward for the foundling asylum in Bloomsbury, and a part of the stone wall in the stable needs to be repaired urgently. Do you have the time and competence for such work?”
Mason Cook was a wiry gentleman with grizzled hair and a deeply lined face, and he seemed to reflect for a moment before answering. He turned when a younger man stepped out of the house.
“Carl, we have some Quality here needing a repair on a stone wall. Can you do it?” The man nodded, and Mason Cook turned back to Mr. Rowles. “’Tis my son. He’ll be a better man for your job, though he can’t come until Monday next week.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Rowles glanced at the younger man. “Have you something with which to write? I will give you the direction to the asylum.”
Carl tapped his head with a meaty finger. “I’ll remember it.”
Mr. Rowles accepted this without question and gave him the directions, adding, “I will see you Monday next.”
“I did not expectto meet with such immediate success,” he said when they had resumed their places inside the carriage again.
“Nor I. I suppose we will not need to visit the other mason.” Geny was conscious of a vague sense of disappointment, for itmeant they would not have an excuse to spend more time together.
“No, I do not think that is necessary.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for your assistance, my lady.”
She smiled back. “Of course.”
As the horses moved forward, Geny reached into the reticule that lay on the seat at her side. “Even if this is Mr. Dowling’s domain, I did wish to show you the list of boys I thought might suit for training in arithmetic—although I think only the first two are truly suitable. I’ve listed their ages and talents.”
He took the paper from her and unfolded it, then squinted as he tried to read her writing.
“I have difficulty reading this with the light coming in from the west end.” He glanced up at her. “Thank you. I will look it over as soon as we reach the orphanage.
Without forethought, Geny slid over on her seat and patted the place next to her. “The light is better on this side. If you were able to read it now, I can answer any questions you might have.”
She had not intended to invite more intimacy with Mr. Rowles. It was just that she was a practical woman and was in the habit of using each opportunity that was given. Besides, she felt instinctively safe with him. But she did suffer a moment’s embarrassment as soon as she realized what he might presume of her suggestion.
