“So, what brings you here? You said the orphanage?” Charles inquired, his voice a low timbre that matched the solemn ambiance of the room.
Kenneth took a steadying breath, his fingers tracing the edges of an antique inkwell on the desk. “Yes, it is about the orphanage, Charles. I visited yesterday, and the situation is dire. The funds you pledged were not deposited.”
Charles’s brow furrowed in genuine surprise. “Impossible. First, I did not make a pledge, I made a donation. There is a difference. I’ve been diligent in overseeing the accounts. And second, I even paid Lord Carlisle extra for the greengrocer’s deliveries to ensure the children have enough. He’d mentioned there was a shortage and the larder needed stocking for winter.”
Kenneth’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, for he’d imagined as much. He bit his bottom lip, forcing his vexationdown. It would not do him any good to lose his temper, especially not with Charles, who appeared genuinely upset.
“I am afraid your donation has not arrived. And not just yours. I spoke to Mrs. Hardy, the patroness, and she insists that much of the money from various donors has not arrived. The caretakers have not been paid and left. The children are hungry and cold, and they are running out of essential supplies.”
“This is outrageous. The poor children.” A crease formed on Charles’s forehead as he reached for a leather-bound ledger on his desk. He flipped through the pages, scrutinizing the meticulous records within. After a moment, he stopped and pointed to an entry. “Here,” he said, running his finger over the inked lines. “I paid Lord Carlisle as agreed on the first of last month and this month. There’s no reason the funds shouldn’t have reached the orphanage.”
Leonard, seated beside Kenneth, observed the exchange with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Kenneth, on the other hand, felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. The discrepancy between Charles’s records and Mrs. Hardy’s claims added another layer of complexity to an already troubled situation. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but it was looking more and more likely that Lord Carlisle had a hand in this.
“And you gave the funds directly to Lord Carlisle?” Leonard asked.
“Yes, I did. He seems so passionate about the orphanage. When he first approached me about it a few months ago, I was wary.I am careful about which organizations I support. But he had a strategy and a vision for the orphanage, and when I toured it, it appeared a lovely place.” Charles tilted his head from side to side. “I thought I should deal with the administrator rather than Lord Carlisle, but he told me that he had taken charge of it all and would handle it. Evidently, I was deceived.”
The study’s somber atmosphere soured further as Kenneth contemplated the situation. He couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. The orphanage, a beacon of hope for the less fortunate, was teetering on the edge of collapse, and the mystery of the missing funds deepened. Although perhaps it was not such a mystery, after all.
The cause of the missing funds appeared clear, but he wasn’t ready to make a wild accusation just yet. There were other donors he needed to speak to, other avenues to explore.
“Charles, I promise I will find out what happened. Please, do not forsake the orphanage. Mrs. Hardy does the best she can,” Kenneth said.
Fortunately, Charles shook his head. “Never. I trust that you will take care of this, and in the meantime, I shall wait to hear from you.”
The three men rose then, and Charles escorted them downstairs. At the door, he turned to Leonard. “Leonard, would you mind terribly if I took another moment of Kenneth’s time?”
“Not at all. I had a mind to put my feet up in the carriage and visit the land of Nod for a spell, anyway,” Leonard replied. He patted Kenneth’s back and then headed for the carriage.
Charles turned to Kenneth. “Kenneth, I wanted to tell you that I’m truly glad you came. I can’t imagine it was an easy visit.”
Kenneth nodded, appreciating his genuine concern. “It’s not, but I had to do what’s right. The orphanage was dear to my brother, and if coming here and getting clues as to what is going on would help me save it, then so be it.”
“I understand. Now that you’re here, I wondered if I might show you something.”
Kenneth pursed his lips and shrugged. “Of course.”
Charles motioned for Kenneth to follow him, leading him to a secluded part of the garden just past the laundry. They arrived at a small garden that was meticulously tended, with a bench positioned beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree. Kenneth remembered it from his childhood days, although there hadn’t been a bench or a small garden.
His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on a stone dove perched beside the bench. Beneath it was a plaque weathered by time. Carved in it was Edward’s name and the phraseflying among the doves.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice catching on the last word.
Charles gestured toward the memorial with a somber expression. “My father had this placed here after the renovations. He said Edward used to come and sit in this spot to watch the doves on the laundry roof.”
Kenneth looked up at the laundry roof and saw a few doves fluttering above. The scene held a serene beauty, and forgotten memories settled heavily on his shoulders. “I forgot how much Edward loved doves,” he admitted, a note of shame in his voice.
Charles placed a comforting hand on Kenneth’s shoulder. “You were just a child, Kenneth. It’s understandable. I didn’t remember either, but my father did. He spoke of Edward a lot after it happened. He always felt guilty about his death.”
Kenneth’s eyes widened in surprise. “Guilty? Why?”
Charles sighed, his gaze fixed on the memorial. “He believed he should have had better safety measures in place, especially in case of a fire. You might not remember, but our parents were very close before the fire. Our mothers, especially, but I think it was just too hard for your parents to be around mine, and their friendship faded. Another reason why my father felt terrible. In fact, the guilt haunted him for the rest of his life.”
A heavy silence enveloped them as Kenneth absorbed this revelation. It was a shared burden—the guilt that both he and the late Marquess carried. He’d never truly thought about the fractured friendship between his parents and Charles’. It had only seemed natural that they would not be in one another’slives. Not after what had happened. The impact of Edward’s passing was wider-reaching than Kenneth had ever imagined.
“Thank you, Charles,” he murmured, grateful for the insight into a past he had only partially understood.
“I just wanted you to see it. Maybe it will bring you some comfort, knowing that Edward hasn’t been forgotten.” With that, Charles left Kenneth to linger for a moment longer by the memorial.
