“No. I wouldn’t have been happy at all,” he said. “Which is why I would have left and made another appointment on a different day.”
Ah. No wonder he seemed so irritated. He didn’t like that she’d waited. He’d obviously never gone hungry. If he had, he might have understood her urgency. “We had an appointment.” She pointed a finger at him, her brows going up. She didn’t like arguing as a general rule, but she also needed this man’s respect. He’d agreed to a one-time donation, but if he valued her, she might be able to get another. “I assumed you’d be here in a reasonable amount of time.”
“Didn’t it seem obvious I was having difficulty keeping that appointment?” His back straightened, and she realized how much taller he was than her.
She shrugged, just one shoulder rising. “I’ve children to feed, my lord. Their stomachs would not wait. And if I gave up after every missed appointment…” It was true. Tenacity was one of her best allies.
“Fair enough.” He nodded, his voice dropping low and deep, the sound skittering along her skin, amazingly warm and pleasant compared with his hard appearance. “I shall see you in two days. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a great deal more work to do and the day fades quickly.” He swept his hand out the door. “Mr. Winters can escort you outside and flag down a hack for you.”
“No need.” Her stomach twisted again at the idea of walking the streets home alone. Perhaps she should take him up on his offer after all. With the donation he’d just made, she could afford the hack just this once, but then again, there was so much to do and so little money to do it with.
He paused, his eyes sweeping down her once again. They appeared to take in every detail from the frayed cuffs of her coat to her uneven hem line. His clothing, by comparison, was expertly tailored and in impeccable condition. Once upon a time, she’d dressed in fine clothing too but that was so long ago, before her mother and father’s death. Not since she’d been twelve had she lived that life.
“I insist,” he replied.
If she was tenacious, he was boorish, she decided, as he turned and started out the door in front of her, leaving her there. “My lord,” she breathed, lifting her skirt and following behind him. “I don’t need you to hail a cab. I’m perfectly capable of—” Did she lie and say that she’d hail one herself? Or did she admit to walking? She attempted to decide the best angle as she attempted to keep up with his long strides.
“I see that you’re unlikely to hire a conveyance. So, I’ll take you myself. My carriage has only just returned and is still out in the drive.”
Penny stopped for a moment. That would be lovely and terrible all in the same moment. She didn’t wish to walk but somehow, she didn’t want to accept a favor from this hard man either. She knew that favors from men could be tricky. Life alone had taught her a great deal. She’d had more than one man suggest that he’d happily make a larger donation in return for a favor or two. “My lord, that’s very gracious but not necessary.”
He turned abruptly to look at her, his eyes sharp, his mouth set in a straight line. “Again, I insist. I know you’re going to walk if I don’t, aren’t you?”
The question caught her off guard with its astuteness. His generosity made her stomach tremble and she covered it with her hand. “How did you know?”
He looked up and down her again. “You didn’t come in a carriage of your own. You don’t spend money on yourself. You’ll save every penny for the little urchins you rescue.”
Her breath stalled in her chest. “They aren’t urchins.” Anger began to rise like the tide inside her. She hated that word. “They are helpless children who need aid.”
“Aid you provide. And now I do as well.” And with that, he turned and started for the door. “If you die walking home, we can’t very well help them now, can we?”
She gave her head a shake. What a strange man. He’d called them urchins and then talked of helping them. In her experience those two feelings rarely existed together. He was an enigma to be certain. “I suppose not.”
“Now tell me, where do you live?”
She curled her fingers into fists, hating to admit where she was raising the children. “I live on Adderley Street. It’s near—”
He’d stopped again. “I know where it is.” His mouth was drawn into a tight line. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go.”
Oh dear. He really was going to take her himself. With another sigh, she donned her jacket and followed him out the door. She said a silent prayer that his intentions were not untoward as she walked behind his large frame.
He was a hard man, that was certain, but he was funding her project, which meant he had the right to be around the children. She’d need him to be a good man if she were to allow him into their lives.
Logan didn’t need to escort Miss Penny Walters home. He could have sent her in his carriage and started on the mountain of work that never seemed to end.
But she was a pretty mystery that he wished to unravel.
He shouldn’t.
He should forget all about her and continue on with his orderly life. What did it matter why Daring put her in his path? He’d already cleared her as an obstacle to his goal.
And he rarely dallied with women. They wanted things. Expensive things like necklaces and dresses and, apparently, donations for orphans, and then they wished for even pricier items like his heart. He never gave that away. Ever.
The only person he’d ever loved had left him stranded and ruined without even a whisper of goodbye.
He’d marry, of course. Logan had worked damned hard to raise his title back up into good standing. He’d marry a debutante from an impeccable family. Use his wealth as the leverage that would gain him the perfect match and once and for all restore his family’s name.
Earl of Gold was the insult he heard with his own ears. They’d called his father that too but only because the man had spent every single shilling that wasn’t entailed. He’d run them into the poorhouse so that no lord or lady would associate with his family. His father had even attempted to marry a second time to save his financial future. But he’d gotten himself killed in a duel over a gambling debt before he’d been successful.
Hadn’t done a single thing right, the former Earl of Goldthwaite. Logan straightened in his seat. Just thinking about his father’s failures made him clench with shame.
But he knew what else the ton whispered about him. The insults he couldn’t hear. Heartless, consumed with the need for money. As single-minded as his father.
Penny brushed her skirts as she stared determinedly out the window of the carriage. She’d neither looked at him or spoken since they’d entered the dim interior, which did little to quell his curiosity.
“So tell me, Miss Walters. How many orphans do you currently house?”
She flexed her hands in her lap. A subtle gesture. What did it mean? Did his question make her nervous? “Four.”
“That’s it?” He raised a brow, crossing his ankles as he stretched out. “With your tenacity, I thought it would be more.”
She looked at him then, a cool smile touching her lips. “With a larger donation, more orphans could be possible.”