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Her father snorted. “That is preposterous.”

“I shall tell you what is preposterous,” Aunt Millward said, drawing her brother’s attention with her ire. “That you would even consider preventing your daughter from experiencing the joy of motherhood. Are you truly too blind to see that she needs Asher just as much as he needs her? Look at me, Reginald. Do you have any idea how much I longed for a child—still long for one? Jane is the closest I have to a daughter of my own, and until you moved from Yorkshire, I saw her but once a year.

“Believe me, if I had known at age two and twenty that I would end up a childless widow by age fifty, I would have adopted a whole gaggle of children.” She leaned forward and pointed her finger at him. “Don’t you dare consign your daughter to a life of loneliness simply to keep up appearances.”

For several seconds, there was complete silence in the room.

“I would take full responsibility for him,” Jane said quietly. “As my son, his expenses could be taken from my monthly allowance.” She would much rather use the money on clothes for Asher than on ball gowns that she would never have occasion to use.

Her father dragged his gaze from his sister. “You would have him take the Hadford name?”

“Only with your permission,” Jane said.

“Or if she does not marry,” her aunt inserted.

Jane met her father’s eyes. “I beg of you, Father, please set aside your prejudices and consider what a blessing this little boy could be to us all.” She gave him a half smile. “Perhaps one day, if Cook keeps feeding him spiced buns, he might grow big enough to assist you on a hunt.”

Her father rose to his feet and walked to the window. Jane waited, her hands so tightly clenched that her nails dug into her palms. Finally, he swung around to face her again. “What you ask . . . no matter your good intentions, it is simply not done, Jane.”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Aunt Millward virtually exploded. “How much courage does it take to do what is right rather than what is expected? No matter the amount, the consequence is worth the price.”

“Aunt Millward is right, Father. I will happily ignore the whispered words of ignorant gossips or the lack of invitations to events. Adopting Asher is worth far more to me.”

Her father gave a ghost of a smile. “If there is anyone in this room who can claim to have tested the bounds of courage, it is you, Jane.”

“And I am fully prepared to do it again.”

He took a heavy breath. “What you desire is highly irregular, and if I agree, your mother will likely take it very badly.”

“I realize that I am asking something hard of her.” The possible slights from the ladies within and without her social circle would be most painful for her mother. “But I also know she has a good heart, and I trust that given time, she may discover a small measure of the affection she has always offered me and Phoebe for Asher.”

Her father returned to his desk, withdrew a clean piece of paper from the drawer, and set it down beside the ledger.

“I shall write to my solicitor,” he said. “I can make you no promises, but I will inquire as to what must be done to adopt the boy.”

“Thank you, Father.” An enormous weight lifted off Jane’s shoulders, and she struggled to her feet. Ignoring her cane, she hobbled around the desk. Disregarding her father’s nonplussed expression, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his jacket. It smelled of bergamot and leather. He patted her back much as he’d done when she was a child.

“You are not one to do things the easy way, are you, my dear?” he said.

Jane looked up at him with watery eyes and smiled. “No, Father. The ‘easy’ way does not seem to come easily to me at all.”

“The easy way is terribly boring,” Aunt Millward said, coming to her feet. “And who would ever want a life like that?”

Her father winked at Jane. “I cannot imagine.”

Chapter 24

It was dark, and a steady rain was falling when the Bloxley carriage rolled up in front of the Foundling Hospital. David and Elijah had long since fallen asleep, their narrow bodies fitting easily on the vehicle’s plush cushions. Alexander peered through the rain-streaked window. Most of the building was cloaked in darkness, but solitary candles shone in three of the downstairs windows, and a lantern hung beside the front door.

“We have arrived, boys,” he said, reaching out to gently shake David’s shoulder.

The boy groaned and sat upright, jolting awake when he opened his eyes and remembered where he was. “Eli,” he said, prodding the young boy behind him. “Wake up. We’re in London.”

Elijah stirred. “It’s still nighttime.”

“It is indeed,” Alexander said, “and if luck is with us, we shall have you in a proper bed very soon.”

Elijah blinked at him. “A proper bed?”