Page 57

Alexander blinked. The weather. Yes. That was a far safer train of thought than the one he’d barely initiated. “If my mother’s strength of will has anything to do with it, the sun will shine all day.”

Jane laughed. “I think she is in luck.” She rubbed her thigh slightly. “My leg usually warns me when a storm is approaching.”

“Does it hurt very much?”

“Not compared to the first months after my fall. The discomfort is only severe if I have overworked it or when the weather changes.”

Alexander nodded. Her uncomplaining nature in the face of such a trial continued to amaze him. He took a deep breath. Surely she was sufficiently resilient to cope with the news he had to share. Not wanting it to negatively impact their outing, he had put off broaching the subject of Mrs. Stanley. But he must say something before Jane called an end to their time together.

“I spoke to the vicar yesterday,” he said. “And together we went to visit Mrs. Stanley.”

Jane’s eyes did not leave his, and within seconds, a small frown appeared across her brow. “Was it so bad?”

How did she read a person so well? He had said nothing to suggest his experience had been negative, yet she knew it already.

“It was.” He looked away, desperately trying to separate the facts from the anger threatening to reemerge.

She reached out, and her hand brushed his. “You can tell me, Alexander.”

He took her hand and curled his fingers around hers, drawing calm from her touch. “Mrs. Stanley is dying,” he said softly so as to prevent Asher from overhearing. “When we arrived, she wished to speak to the vicar, but Mr. Fossum could not hear her well enough to perform the confessional she desired, so he asked for my assistance.”

“And what she said distressed you,” she said.

“Distressed, shocked, enraged.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “The Foundling Hospital boys in their care did not die of disease. Mr. Stanley sold them when they reached the age of four to be sent up chimneys as chimney sweep apprentices to his brother.”

“No. Please, no.” The words were barely whispered, but she did not need to say more. He watched the same emotions he’d experienced flash across her face, and he waited, wondering which would rise to the fore. “We must find them!” she said. “Alexander, what must we do to find them?”

His heart warmed to her. “You are willing to set out on a new battle?” he said.

“Yes.” Her voice was earnest, urgent even. “Tell me what can be done.”

“I have written to a particularly skilled Bow Street Runner. He will find Mr. Stanley’s brother, I have no doubt.”

“If the boys have survived, what then?”

“We shall remove them.” Alexander was firm. “They can still benefit from the schooling and career opportunities afforded them at the Foundling Hospital.”

“Those poor boys. I cannot imagine what their lives have been like.” She looked at Asher. The newt was crawling up his thin arm, and he was giggling. “It would have happened to Asher in another year.”

Alexander set his jaw. He had known the little boy for only two days, and already, the prospect was unthinkable. “Mr. Stanley will be made to answer for what he has done.”

“What of Charlie?”

“He will be taken care of.”

Jane scrunched her forehead in thought. “He spoke of his mother’s sister. She was someone Mrs. Stanley had visited recently. Perhaps she would take him in.”

He nodded, filing away that information to pass on to Mr. Toole, if necessary. “I have written to the director of the Foundling Hospital to inform him of Mrs. Stanley’s situation, but until I hear back, Asher and the baby would be best served remaining where they are now. Would you be willing to keep Asher until new arrangements can be made? I cannot say exactly how long it will be.”

“I would not have it any other way.” There was sadness in her eyes, and he was glad that he still held her hand. “Truth be told, I am in no hurry to have him leave.”

“You have grown fond of him.”

“Very much so.” They both looked over at the little boy, who was now trying to feed grass to the unfortunate newt. The sight brought a gentle smile to Jane’s lips. “How could I not?”

“It’s no good, Alice,” Asher said, his frustration obvious even though he was a few feet distant. “I don’t think the newt likes gwass.”

“This would probably not be the best time to tell him newts eat tadpoles, would it?” Alexander whispered.