Louise M Gouge Read Online Free PDF Page A

his manners in the midst of all the rudeness and hubbub. “Did you complete your shopping before the crush?”
    Beatrice noticed his gaze briefly touched on her new gown, and a look of approval flitted across his face. Then he frowned and gave his head a little shake, as if to snuff out any admiration. But how foolish she was. Why should she hope for his good opinion when he seemed determined not to give it? Humph. That was a favor she could easily return.
    “Yes, we have finished,” Mrs. Parton said. “And now we are off to St. Ann’s. Miss Gregory has a great interest in my work there.”
    “Indeed?” The viscount’s gruff expression softened. “Very admirable, Lady Beatrice.”
    Beatrice’s face warmed, something she was growing tired of. At home at Melton Gardens, she had never felt so discomfited so often. Had never, ever blushed. “I thank you, sir.” She gazed upward and beyond him toward one of the Abbey’s two square spires, lest he see how his small approval pleased her. How quickly she had abandoned her resolve not to wish for his good opinion—and all against her will.
    “Most young ladies I know never give a thought to orphans or any other needy soul.”
    “Indeed?” Even her eyes betrayed her, turning back as if of their own accord to view the handsome viscount so grandly mounted on his fine horse. “Why, how do they occupy their days if not in service to some worthy cause?”
    He shrugged. “My lady, I cannot guess. Perhaps shopping, visiting, gossiping, planning parties and balls. You have my utmost respect for your generosity.” No smile confirmed his compliment.
    Once again an infuriating blush heated her face, and she waved her fan to cool it. “You are too kind, sir.”
    “Not at all.” He stared at her, and for several seconds she could not move. Or breathe.
    “Well, go on then, Greystone,” Mrs. Parton said. “We shall not keep you.” She waved him away. “You are excused to go solve all of Prinny’s problems.”
    “Madam, if I could do that, the world would stop spinning upon its axis.” At last he smiled, then tipped his hat again. “I bid you both good day.” He reined his horse around and rode toward the Parliament building in the next block.
    Beatrice still could not turn her eyes away from his departing figure. What a handsome gentleman, so refined, so considerate of his mother’s friend. But admiring him or any gentleman would bring her only heartbreak and disappointment. She must concentrate on the work ahead rather than dream of having the friendship of a gentleman who clearly did not wish to befriend her.
    How annoying to realize that no matter what she told herself, her heart raced at the sight of Lord Greystone.

Chapter Three
    “H ere we are.” Mrs. Parton drove the phaeton through the gates of a large property into a wide front courtyard. “St. Ann’s Orphan Asylum. But it has become much more than a refuge for foundling girls.”
    Eyeing the seven-foot wrought-iron fence as they passed through, Beatrice felt a shiver of dread that diminished her former anticipation. The gray brick of the three-story building added to the asylum’s foreboding appearance. This seemed more like a fortress, even a prison, than a home for children, though she approved of the tidy grounds. Unlike the street beyond the fence, not a scrap of trash littered the grassy yard, and not a single pebble lay on the front walkway.
    “I delight in these visits,” Mrs. Parton said. “The children are so dear, and the matrons do such fine work in schooling them and teaching them useful skills. Most of my maids were reared and educated in this school.”
    “Mama was going to bring me here.” Beatrice swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. Her mother had become ill before she could keep any of her promises.
    “Lady Bennington founded the institution, and your mother and I joined her some twenty years ago.” Mrs. Parton waved to the two men on the jump seat.
    The tiger took