Page 21 of A Virgin for the Duke of Ash

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Barnaby bowed and hastened off to carry out his instructions, as efficient as any butler could be.

After the man disappeared down the hallway, Daniel could not help but notice that although everything remained spotless, there was nary a soul to be seen. Indeed, if Barnaby was not expected to attend to the needs of the masters of Ashton Hall, he might have made himself scarce as all the other servants had.

And who could blame them? Daniel was well aware that the past few days had put him in a fouler mood than usual. Self-preservation was one of man’s strongest instincts.

But not Evie, though.

Even if he looked as if he would raze an entire town at the slightest provocation, she had absolutely no qualms about going against him.

Just that morning, she hadinformedhim that she would be taking a turn about the park with Scarlett and Phoebe.

Informed, because she did not care one whit whether or not she obtained his express permission.

Daniel knew all too well that promenading in the park was simply a ruse for young ladies to watch and beseen,even if Evie had rattled off a long list of the benefits of moderate physical exertion and being out in the sun.

The thought of any other man watching her, maybe even daring toapproachher, was enough to make his blood boil—and therein lay his problem.

It was none of his business whether she found a gentleman suitable to her tastes or not. In fact, it was the goal of every debutante to find a suitable match Season after interminable Season.

The marriage mart had never bothered him before.

Now, there was nothing more offensive to him, and it had everything to do with a blue-eyed debutante with a smile like sunshine and a spine of steel.

The excited shouts and laughter of children pierced through the otherwise dreary air on the edge of the slums of London when they saw the fancy carriage rolling up to the surprisingly well-kept facade of St. Martha’s Orphanage.

A woman who appeared to be in her fifth decade, her face lined with wrinkles and a lifetime of smiles, curtsied politely from the front door as footmen descended, carrying baskets of food.

“We were not expecting your arrival today, Your Grace,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I hope that you will not find the children’s enthusiasms distasteful.”

“Of course not, Mrs. Thomas,” Daniel assured her.

Mrs. Thomas, who had run the orphanage for the better part of the decade, nodded. “You have always been exceedingly generous, Your Grace. We are very much grateful for it.”

“If you need anything, you must not hesitate to tell me,” he told her. “Whatever the children need, Ashton Hall will be more than willing to provide.”

“Thank you so much, Your Grace.” The gratitude was heavy in her voice. Turning towards the children, she called out, “All right, everyone! Back inside the house!”

“Yes, Mrs. Thomas!” they all chorused, before breaking out into excited chatter as they obediently filed back into the building, Mrs. Thomas and Daniel following behind them.

As the children playfully headed back inside, he could not help but notice a slight figure lagging behind the crowd. The young boy looked to be no older than five, with overly large eyes set ina small face. The clothes he wore hung loosely over his body, as if they had been meant for someone larger.

“That is little John,” Mrs. Thomas told him quietly. “He arrived here two weeks ago. His mother had just died, and there was no one left to care for him.”

Daniel did not ask anything more. It was a sad fact that the most vulnerable were often overlooked by the rest of society. If it had not been for places like St. Martha’s and people like Mrs. Thomas, would their lives have even mattered?

Still, there was something in the boy’s haunted eyes that called to him. Daniel was familiar with that look. Had seen it all too often staring back at him in the mirror.

Suddenly, little John paused. Then, he slowly turned around and rushed over to Daniel, throwing his thin arms around his legs.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he muttered hoarsely, before rushing off to join the others.

Mrs. Thomas looked pleasantly surprised by this as Daniel stood by wordlessly.

“Oh, heavens,” she murmured, wiping a tear from her eye. “He has not spoken a single word since he arrived. We all feared that he might be deaf or mute or both!”

But it was not the boy’s sudden speech that intrigued Daniel. The boy’s softly spoken words, clearly enunciated, belied something that might be even more tragic.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”Not“Thank ye, Yer Grace.”

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