“Lady Clare! LadyClare!”
Clare turned towards the excited young voice and smile. A boy of about six approached, holding out his small board for her inspection.
“What is this, Robbie?” she asked, positioning the boy’s chalk-covered piece of slate so she could more easily see it.
“’Tis a perfect letter B, Lady Clare!” The boy beamed at his declaration. “Even Mr. MacLaurin said it is!”
Clare Logan, formerly Lady Clare Napier, eldest daughter of the Earl of Heath, straightened up and nodded at the boy. She’d tried, unsuccessfully at that, to have them call her by her married, now widowed, name. She stopped objecting because here it did not matter a bit. Glancing across the small sea of faces in the classroom, she smiled.
“Well, if Mr. MacLaurin said that it is, then it must be so, Robbie.” She patted the boy on the shoulder and gave him a small push towards the seat in the second row. “Excellent work, I see.” She slowly walked the aisles, examining each boy’s attempts to master writing their alphabet. Considering their circumstances and their late arrival into education, they were making so much progress.
“I shall have Mrs. Inglis send along a small treat to reward you all for these excellent efforts,” she said. The boys cheered, for the cook’s treats were well-known. “If that is allowed, Mr. MacLaurin?” The young man teaching the boys here at the Logan School for Orphans and Unfortunates was a kind man and she did not doubt his answer for a moment.
“Oh, aye, my lady,” he said with a slight bow. “Cook’s treats would be a wonderful reward.”
Clare walked to the teacher’s side and spoke in a low voice to him on the matter she’d come to discuss.
“Thomas has not returned to class?” She glanced quickly around the room and saw the empty seat.
“Nay, my lady. Three days now.”
Clare glanced briefly at the empty seat before stepping away from the boys’ teacher. “Advise me if he returns?”
“Of course, my lady.”
She made her way out of the small classroom, one which would be replaced by two larger ones soon and drew her notebook from the pocket of her apron. As she’d remembered, Thomas was not the first boy this month to disappear from her school. Indeed, he was the third. The fifth when she added in Molly and Rebecca.
You cannot save them all, my dear.
Jonathan’s warning echoed in her thoughts each time another child did not show up for lessons. And it usually was those who yet lived with relatives or family, children dragged back to the realities of living in poverty or working for their keep. Even so, she would ask Mr. Chalmers to seek out more information about the children. He had contacts that her other solicitor and advisors did not, ones who could ferret out what she wanted to know. A shiver passed through her at the thought of the fate facing those missing.
“My lady?” Clare had not realized she’d stopped in the middle of the corridor and in front of the door of what used to be Jonathan’s office. Her headmistress watched her with a guarded expression in her usually-kind blue eyes. “Have ye forgotten yer appointment with Mr. Garvine? He is in yer office.” A meaningful glance at the closed door before her was a reminder Clare truly did not need.
“I am on my way there now, Mrs. Dunbar,” she said, smoothing her hands over the apron that protected her day gown in her work at the school.
She paused for less than a breath before leaving the doorway of Jonathan’s office but got no farther than the end of the hallway. As she passed by the window, with its shutters opened to let the sunlight in, Clare saw her reflection there and stopped.
This woman was not one she would have recognized even a few years ago. Gone was the carefree daughter of a powerful earl, destined for a good marriage, children, and a place in society. The young noblewoman referred to in glowing terms, one known for her wit and beauty and for being the perfect daughter and all that entailed.
Lifting her chin, Clare saw flashes of that woman but gone was the naïveté of the young woman she’d been just, what, eight years before? Tucking a loosened lock of hair back in place, she allowed herself an honest appraisal and did not find herself lacking.
Meeting Jonathan had changed her life, her world, even her soul. Defying her father and relinquishing the life she’d known had been the best thing she’d ever done. And loving Jonathan had given her the strength to do it and she’d looked back in regret only rarely.
Clare Napier Logan would not begin to now in spite of the temptation to do so. The loss of a child saved by her efforts was as hard to face as the bairns she’d lost in attempts to give Jonathan one of their own. Indeed, it was her inability to bear him children that had inspired their work here among the poor of Leith.
So, she smiled at her reflection, content with her life and accepting of her losses, and turned away, ready to carry on with the next steps of Jonathan’s legacy. The door leading to her office burst open and Duncan called to her as she approached. Alarm filled the man’s voice and since he’d been Jonathan’s choice to manage their business affairs because of his calm, deliberate manner, it unsettled her. Clare battled to control the worry until she knew the situation they faced.
Had Thomas or one of the others died? Was it possible? She forced her fisted hands into the pockets of the sturdy apron and rushed inside, surprised and alarmed to find Andrew Lamb, the solicitor who handled most legal actions for the businesses, waiting for her.
“Andrew?” She waited until Duncan closed the door. “Is there some problem?”
“My lady,” the older man said, standing as she entered and made her way to her desk. Once she was seated, she waited as he took a deep breath before speaking.
“Is there some disaster brewing, Andrew? You know I prefer plain speaking to dissembling or vague words.”
“No disaster, my lady,” Andrew said. He glanced at Duncan several times. “More an unexpected business move.”
“Gentlemen, pray sit.” Well, at the least, danger was not at their door. She trusted these two men most among those who advised her on the wide range of matters about the various business accounts and interests. They had not given her faulty or less than thorough information in the past and Clare expected that this situation would be no different. “And tell me what has you both so agitated.”
