He did not know why he was dreading this moment. Perhaps because he did not want to disappoint Berry or those children.
Since coming out of the orphanage, Gideon had faced street gangs and some vicious thieves straight out of the Seven Dials. He’d taken beatings, usually giving as good as he got. He’d even been stabbed a time or two and had the scars to show it, one on his arm and one on his leg. He’d endured freezing nights, and days when he had gone without a meal. Not even a crumb to fill his belly.
But none of what he had faced felt as bad as his feelings upon returning here.
It wasn’t the orphanage to blame. He had been safe here.
It was this rage he felt toward those who had abandoned him.
These feelings of anger and resentment had always simmered within him and now rose up like a fire-breathing dragon bent on destroying whatever got in his way.
Berry placed her hand on his arm. Just a light, reassuring touch. “Gideon?”
He nodded.
Her touch and the sweet sound of her voice was enough to get him back in control.
It was not well done of him. He could not walk in angry or he would scare the children, and most of them were scared enough as it was.
Like him, they had been abandoned.
Well, most had arrived here for reasons similar to Bonham’s and knew who their families were. But there were others like him, forced to make up their own identity because they were just tossed away and given no clue as to their lineage.
He had survived and succeeded against all odds.
So why was he wallowing in rage and pitying himself?
“I’m good,” he said quietly.
She cast him an indulgent and encouraging smile. “Not just good—you are the best.”
Gad. Kitten.
He walked through the halls that had remained unchanged for decades, and spoke to the older children who immediately crowded around him. He asked them questions about their plans as they prepared to leave the orphanage. Most of them were scared, although some tried to hide it with obviously false bravery.
Some showed academic aptitude, and he made a note to discuss the possibility of setting up scholarships for those children who should be helped in continuing their education.
He was pleased to hear that almost all of those who were about to leave the orphanage because they had come of age did have a place to go. There were ten boys and five girls in this situation. Some would go into service as maids or footmen, others as apprentices to tradesmen. Five of them were to start in his employ.
“Unfortunately, we are always left with one or two who are hard to place,” the headmistress, a kindly woman of middle age with graying hair by the name of Miss Prescott, confided. “It breaks my heart, but we cannot save them all, no matter how hard we try.”
Gideon did not remember seeing the headmistress during his time here. She must have been hired not long after he had left. Perhaps starting first as a teacher. “By your comment, I presume you have a couple of misfits here,” he said.
“Yes, just one this year. A very difficult child by the name of William Dexter. He is always angry, always the troublemaker.”
If out of a group of fifteen children, all but one had been safely placed and given the chance to make a future for themselves, then this was not a bad result, Gideon thought.
But why not try for a perfect fifteen?
“Would it help if I spoke to him?” he asked. “Not today, for I must leave soon. But I could come back another day this week or next.”
Miss Prescott was delighted with the idea. “Yes, please do. If anyone can inspire him, break through in any way, it will most likely be you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That is all we can ask for, Mr. Knight.” The headmistress bustled off to attend to other matters concerning the orphanage.
“She is a gem,” Berry said. “She sincerely cares about the fate of each child.”
