Sera drew in a quick breath, shocked by his words.

“I thought I might take them on as my wards,” Win revealed, “still not disclosing the relationship between us. I have merely told them I knew their father.”

He stood and began pacing. “It has been an unmitigated disaster.”

Quickly, the words rushed from him. He spoke of how he had gone to London and acquired a governess for the boys. How they had terrorized her and she demanded to be sent back to London. That he engaged a second governess from the same agency. She also had quit, describing the boys’ many pranks and how she wasn’t going to teach such hellions.

Win returned to his seat, picking up his teacup and draining the contents. “What am I to do with them?” he asked. “None of my servants can manage them. In fact, I had to play the haughty duke and demand they watch the boys while I came here for a few hours. None of my tenants will take them. I doubt anyone in the local village would. I cannot in good conscience return them to London. Blumer, the Bow Street Runner, said they were already too old to be placed at a foundling home. Even if one took them on, I already know the scheming pair. They would be out the door before my carriage pulled away from the establishment. The streets of London are no place for two six-year-old orphans.”

He shook his head. “I am at my wit’s end. That is why I have turned to you today.”

Sera saw both Minta and Percy were speechless.

“I will help care for them,” she said, her voice sounding faint as the blood rushed to her ears.