“It is indeed. In fact, I would like to ask you all to indulge until your stomachs are so full that they feel as though they will burst. I want you to enjoy what is provided.”
“We also have been getting new pillows and blankets for sleep time,” another child spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have slept better than I have in a while. It is ever so comfortable.”
“And—and!” Billy said, standing up in his excitement. “There are more beds! It means that I don’t have to share with Toby, because he shoves his feet in my face when he is asleep.”
“I don’t,” Toby complained, groaning. Angelica, next to him, giggled.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Angelica said, cutting through the din of the children speaking about their favorite changes among one another. Lucien was pleased, listening to them all, knowing he had done right by them. “We know it’s you who’s done this. Lady Elinor said so.”
“She did?”
“She did,” Billy confirmed. “She is very happy.”
Lucien locked eyes with Elinor, who smiled softly.
“I am,” she reaffirmed. “You have changed these children’s lives already.”
“And it is only the beginning,” he swore, aware of the many pairs of eyes on them, listening in curiously.
“What else you have planned, Your Grace?” one child asked, near the back of the school room. He was huddled in a blanket, his eyes dark with fatigue and face drawn.
Lucien’s mouth set grimly. “I will be changing the conditions around here,” he told them. “No more early wake-ups if you do not want them. No more grueling hours. The work you do from now on will be your choice, not anyone else’s.”
The children looked at one another, as though the promise was too large to hold. A girl near the back clutched her blanket tighter, and Toby whispered something to Angelica that made her eyes go wide.
“And there will be outings,” Lucien added, glancing at Elinor. “Fresh air. Parks. Things children ought to have.”
“I can also volunteer for that,” Elinor told him. “It would bring me a lot of happiness to take the children around a nearby park. Perhaps Newton can tag along.”
At the mention of the cute tabby Lucien had found himself fond of at first sight, cheers went up through the room.
“Park day!” One child shouted excitedly, and Lucien grinned at Elinor.
Thiswas a new purpose. This was far better pleasure to see than any praise he received in the ton.
“Anyway,” he announced loudly, “I shall not interrupt your lesson any further. I will let you continue in peace.” He nodded and went to bow out of the room, but Elinor cleared her throat, her cheeks pink.
He was not certain they had ever stopped being since he entered.
“Or you could stay?” she suggested. “The children enjoy having you here. They went for so long without knowing who owned this place—perhaps mercifully so, though, given the conditions they lived in—so to know you are here, and to know that you are invested in them, it is a good thing.”
When Lucien still hesitated, Elinor moved away from her desk, slightly closer to him.
“Stay?” she urged, a tinge of hope in her tone. But then a devious little smile curled her lips. “Besides, how will you know I am worth keeping as a tutor, worth any of what we have planned, if you do not experience my lessons?”
Lucien chuckled at her wit, finally nodding. “Fine. But not for long.”
“I will be concluding the lesson soon, anyway.” Elinor smiled brightly at him as he hovered.
“You must sit down,” Angelica told him in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I am sorry?”
“You are a pupil now, too, so you must sit with us and have a slate.”
Lucien blinked, dumbfound, even as another child rushed over with a slate for him, giving him a nudge to sit down among them. And so, he did. He did not miss the amusement on Elinor’s face: he, a grown duke, sitting among a room full of tiny children, eager to learn.
“Now,” Elinor giggled, “where was I? Ah, yes, stars.”
