Kendra stared in utter disbelief. “Mr. Caldwell?”
“Part of your surprise.” He shot her a sheepish grin before turning back to the young ones. They’d focused their attention on Kendra, gaping at her with frank curiosity. Trick waved a hand in her direction. “This is my new wife. Er…Mrs. Caldwell.”
“Please, just call me Kendra,” she rushed to say, smoothing the skirt of the peach gown. Goodness, a new name was a hard thing to get used to. It felt downright strange.
As a duchess, she had no proper surname anymore—she’d be signing letters with her husband’s title, as Kendra Amberley. She didn’t feel like a duchess, but neither did she feel like Mrs. Caldwell.
“I’m glad of your acquaintance, Mrs. Kendra.” A tall, skinny lad held his hand out to her, looking toward Trick for approval. At her husband’s nod, the boy reached to grasp Kendra’s hand and kissed the back of it fervently.
“Ahem. Andrew.” When the boy looked chagrined, Trick ruffled his dark, stick-straight hair. “Not to worry. A man cannot help but admire a pretty lady, aye?”
“Oh, yes,” Andrew said reverently, and Kendra watched Trick bite his lip to keep from laughing.
“Mrs. Jackson, there you are.” Trick waded through the sea of children, making his way toward a matronly woman with gray curls and a pleasant if nondescript face. He fished a black pouch from his surcoat pocket and handed it over. “Here you go. I apologize for being late. I’ve been…busy.”
“I can see that.” The woman smiled at Kendra.
“Mrs. Jackson, may I present my wife—”
“Mrs. Kendra,” Andrew supplied in a worshipful tone.
Kendra didn’t have the heart to correct him. “I’m glad of your acquaintance, Mrs. Jackson.” She executed a tiny bow, for all the world as though they were at Whitehall Palace.
Mrs. Jackson’s plump cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Likewise, your gr—Mrs. Kendra.” Kendra heard the metallic clink of coins as the woman sifted through the pouch. “So generous, Mr. Caldwell! The children are grateful.”
“The orphans of Sussex won’t starve so long as it’s within my power to help them.”
“Starve?” Mrs. Jackson’s belly jiggled beneath her apron as her laughter rang through the heavy summer air. “They’re better fed than half the parish. Why, I daresay some villagers pray nightly to be orphaned and find themselves at Caldwell Manor.”
Caldwell Manor? Did Trick finance this entire operation, then? Kendra looked toward her husband, his golden hair glinting in the late afternoon sun, and her heart melted a little.
He laughed. “Let’s hope not. A hearty meal is a sad substitute for devoted parents. How is little Susanna?”
“Much better. Her fever is down and she’s sitting and taking milk. I trust she’ll be up and about in a day or two.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. Maybe I should pay her a visit.”
“By all means. She’ll be cheered to see you.”
“Kendra? If you’ll excuse me?”
Without waiting for her agreement, Trick climbed the six front steps in three strides and disappeared into the house. Wearing only breeches and a shirt, no cravat and no coat, he looked decidedly unduke-ish. Through that battered oak door passed a man who had accomplished Kendra’s own dream, opening an orphanage.
Stunned, she stared after him while the children scattered through the garden, picking up balls and hoops.
Two girls tugged shyly on her skirts. “Will you play with us, Mrs. Kendra?”
She smiled down at them. “What would you care to play?”
They settled on blindman’s buff, and the game went on for a while, other children joining in the fun. When an impish lad named Thomas stole the blindfold and ran away laughing, the others raced after him. Kendra tried to follow but got halfway around the house and stopped. Thanks to her high Louis heels, the merry chase had far outstripped her ability to keep up.
Trick had been right to suggest a plain gown—next time she’d wear flat shoes, too. Wondering what was taking him so long, she made her way over to where Mrs. Jackson was hanging laundry.
“Have you an idea where my h-husband”—her tongue tripped over the word—“might have got himself off to?”
“Of course,” the older woman said, tossing a nightshirt back into the basket. “I’ll show you the way to the sickroom.”
She led her around the corner of the house and up the front steps. “I bless your husband nightly for saving these children.”
