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Her heart wrenched.

“I did not steal it,” he rushed to assure her. “It was left on the table.”

It was not the first time Eddy had sneaked away to horde food.

Orphaned and wandering the streets of Corbridge for God only knew how long, Eddy had not completely adjusted to his life at Kelston Hall. The newest child here, the troubled lad still feared he would not have enough to eat.

The Reverend Thomas Fenton had brought the starving little boy to Kelston Hall just before Zander had been found in the meadow. Living on a stipend, and with six children of his own, the man of God could not afford to take Eddy himself.

Reverend Fenton did not know Eddy’s age, and neither did the boy.

From examining the lad’s teeth, Charles estimated Eddy to be between six and eight years old, but because of malnourishment, he was extremely small for his age. One could easily mistake him for a five-year-old except for the unnatural maturity in his grave gaze.

More should be done for unfortunate waifs like Eddy. Lilly could not comprehend the lack of provision for the urchins and it frustrated her.

Nor could she have turned the big, blue, sad-eyed child away, even if it meant cramming another bed into an already crowded bedchamber. Not for the first time, she wished the children’s home were bigger and she could accommodate more needy boys and girls.

But she was a realist.

That would require more funds than she could afford. It was better to operate Kelston Hall efficiently and make certain the children already here were provided for than entertain grand schemes and risk losing everything.

Then where would the other children at Kelston Hall be?

On the streets, as Eddy had been.

That was a horrific existence, and most children did not survive long.

Still, that had not kept Lilly from sketching her dream home, which could house upward of one hundred children. She hid the drawing in her desk and, once in a while, would drag it out and consider what if…?

What was life without hopes and dreams?

Even for a long on-the-shelf, plump, pockmarked spinster.

Nevertheless, Lilly’s pragmatic side, more often than not, scoffed at such drivel.

Living with one’s head in the clouds could only lead to disappointment and heartache. She had repeated that mantra too many times to count.

At times, the monologue helped center her again, and at others, the inarguable truth filled her with despondency.

Zander crouched beside her and gently lifted a shock of Eddy’s midnight hair away.

“He is bleeding, Lilly.”

Bending her neck, she noticed the blood she had missed in her haste to comfort the boy.

Eddy bore a cut across his forehead and three scarlet ribbons ran down the child’s damp face.

“I do not think he will need stitches, though.” Zander folded his new handkerchief and pressed it to Eddy’s brow.

Lilly hid a wince.

They would never get the bloodstains out of the cloth.

“I shall get the medicine chest.” Mrs. B disappeared back into the kitchen while Florence began clearing the rest of the table.

Lilly continued to cuddle the child, who had stopped crying but still clung to her. Charles was not at Kelston Hall, and she did not know when he would return. That meant she would have to care for the little chap.

It certainly was not the first time, nor would it be the last.