Page 44 of Loved by a Dangerous Duke

The Asherford’s Restoration Home

London, England

September 1815

Ophelia could scarcely contain her excitement. If she weren’t heavy with her third child, she’d have bounced upon her toes. She placed her palms on her stomach. “Will you make your brother or your sister happy, little one?”

Four-year-old Alexander insisted only a brother would do while two-year-old Bethany threw quite a tantrum when she’d been told the baby Ophelia carried might be a boy.

“No boys,” Bethany declared before burying her face in Ophelia’s shoulder and bursting into tears.

Today was the day Ophelia and Stanford had worked for and anticipated for over five years. Slipping her hand into his, she said, “I can never thank you enough for helping me make this a reality, Stan.”

She’d long since stopped addressing him by his full name.

“It was your dream, darling. You deserve the credit for all of it.” He trailed his gaze around the prestigious crowd, many of whom had committed to becoming patrons for the home for unwed mothers. “I’m delighted for you.”

“Excuse me, Your Graces. It’s almost time for the ribbon cutting.” Mrs. Gertrude Marlow, the home’s director, beamed at them. “The good Lord is smiling down from heaven this day. Indeed, he is.”

The first twenty of one hundred women the facility had been remodeled to accommodate had already taken up residence. To protect their privacy, none were present for the official opening of The Asherford’s Restoration Home. Most were prostitutes whose circumstances had forced them into the profession.

Others were from workhouses or even debtors' prison. Some were domestics who’d been taken advantage of by their licentious employers. All were welcome at The Asherford Restoration Home.

Ophelia had chosen the name because here, these unfortunate women would have their pride and dignity restored. Here they stood a chance of becoming something other than an object of scorn or pity.

“Come along, darling.” Stan guided her through the excited crowd until they stood before the entry door, where a bright red ribbon had been draped across the entrance. He kissed her cheek. “This is your day.”

How was it possible she grew to love him more every day?

Django Bostock had done her the greatest of favors that long-ago day atop Gipsy Hill. Had he not behaved the cad and she’d been compromised, she mightn’t have ever known the happiness she shared with Stan.

Clearing her throat, she waited until the buzz of anticipation had calmed.

“Thank you for joining the Duke of Asherford and myself today as we officially open the doors to The Asherford Restoration Home. Without your generosity and commitment to supporting this worthy cause, this charitable venture would never have been possible. Please, come inside and tour the facility. You’ll find an assortment of refreshments in the dining room.”

Ophelia cut the crimson ribbon and then passed the scissors to a nearby gentleman. Amid a flurry of excited chatter, she swept into the home for unwed women with her husband’s protective arm about her waist.

“Ophelia, you should be so proud,” Rayne, the Duchess of Kincade, said as she swooped in to buss Ophelia’s cheek. She’d come from Scotland for the event. “Do you remember that day in Hyde Park where we rued marriage because we wanted more out of life?”