“Babies aredumb. I hate him.”
“Daniel!” But Mrs. Peck sounded weary, as though she’d heard this dozens of times.
“Babiesaredumb,” Marchand agreed.
At this, all the adults in the room went visibly rigid with shock.
Ooooh.Ginny was now on breathless tenterhooks. Perhaps Marchand would simply crack beneath the strain of maintaining gentlemanly behavior for whole minutes at a time, and they would be compelled to throw him bodily out of the place. She wouldsoenjoy witnessing that.
“SO dumb!” Daniel repeated, hopping up and down, beside himself with glee at this show of solidarity. “Dumb! They don’t knowanything.”
“Theydon’tknow anything,” Marchand agreed. Daniel giggled again. “But I will tell you something important, young Mr. Peck. Babies are small and dumb by design—on purpose, that is. And do you know why?”
Daniel shook his head like a wet dog.
The faint rustling Ginny detected was the sound of everyone tensing in case someone needed to leap up to clap a hand over Mr. Marchand’s mouth. Captain Hardy was closest, and looked most capable.
“Babies are very, very small and fragile. Fragile means they can be easily hurt. Because he’s fragile and doesn’t yet know anything, he will count on you to help protect him and keep him safe and teach him how to do important things, like ride horses and swim and eat blancmange.”
“Blaaahmaaajjjj,” Daniel mouthed, still clearly fascinated by this speech.
“And this is how he will helpyoulearn to be brave andstrong, all the things a good man needs to be. Being a big brother is one of the most important jobs in the world. As important as being a father or mother or an army captain.” He lowered and softened his voice. “You want to grow up to be a good man, don’t you, Daniel?”
Whether or not Daniel understood the entire substance of the message, he was clearly moved by the tone of it. His eyes had gone limpid with emotion.
The entire room was, in fact, captivated now. Even the fire seemed to stop crackling long enough to listen.
Ginny was unsettled and unwillingly enthralled. She recalled what Marchand had said about Caravaggio, the so-called murderous thug who created magnificent art. She supposed it was theoretically possible for a man to be an appalling rogue who was nevertheless good with children.
“So isn’t it clever how that works, Daniel?” Marchand continued. “I think so. Your brother might be dumb now, but he’ll grow up fast and get smart and you’ll have lots of fun together. But right now he’s only a little baby, and he will look up to you your whole life. I think you’resolucky to have each other.”
Marchand said it very gently.
The tears of pathos welling in Daniel’s eyes spilled onto his fluffy lashes and splashed onto his round cheeks. “Mama, I want to see my bruvver! I want to see him now!”
Mrs. Peck stared in drop-jawed astonishment at Marchand and Daniel.
At last she rose slowly, gingerly, from her chair. “Ah, of course, poppet. Let’s go see your brother.”
As she led a softly weeping Daniel out of the room by the hand, she cast an awestruck, grateful, and somewhat uneasyglance over her shoulder at Mr. Marchand, as if she suspected he might be a sorcerer.
The quiet rustling sound that followed was the room at large exhaling.
Perhaps Mr. Marchand simply had a talent for saying just the right thing to get someone out of a room fast, Ginny thought. He’d certainly demonstrated that yesterday afternoon when he’d propositioned her.
“Bravo, Mr. Marchand.” Mrs. Pariseau mimed mopping her brow. “How did you know he was about to put that ring in his mouth?”
“Oh, what man can resist tasting pretty things?” he said easily.
Soft pink blushes winked on in all the women’s cheeks around the room. Ginny felt her own face go warm.
“Don’t you employ a few boys from Bethnal Green at your club?” Bolt asked.
Bethnal Green was a notorious workhouse known for exploiting orphans, who were often tricked into working for almost no wages under appalling conditions.
“I do. As often as I can, at least. I’ve hired a few from there who run errands for me and do some simple chores about the place. I can at least ensure they’re safe and fed well and paid decent wages.”
Andmaths, Ginny thought suddenly.Someone isactually teachingthose boysmathswhile they’re at Lucifer’s Fall.Was Marchand actually paying a tutor for them as well? Perhaps he thought sprinkling in a few acts of charity with all the iniquity would increase his chances of getting into heaven.
