He walked quickly, keeping an eye over his shoulder. When he arrived at the hospital, he waited across the street from it, tucking himself behind the pillar of a building. He’d been waiting about a quarter of an hour when Bridget entered. She wore her cream and peach dress and a hat to match. Her hair was in curls over one shoulder, and she looked as pretty as he’d ever seen her.
He ducked back behind the pillar, allowing himself a few moments to imagine their life together. He’d marry her as soon as possible. Perhaps they could get a license when the ship docked in Ireland. He wanted to be her husband. He was already a father. He still couldn’t believe he was the father of the beautiful child she’d shown him in the drawings last night. Had she just imagined the resemblance the boy bore to Caleb, or did he really look like his father?
He’d find a position in the government of Canada. He knew how government offices worked. Bridget could give drawing lessons, and they’d find a school for James. There would be more children—girls and boys who would bring them joy and perhaps frustrate them as well. He wouldn’t have to watch his back any longer. He wouldn’t have to hide.
Caleb glanced out from behind the pillar, watching the door to the hospital more keenly now. A few minutes later, Bridget emerged. She looked about, and he stepped out from the pillar long enough for her to spot him before ducking back again. Her face had broken into a beatific smile, and he knew without having to be told that she had the information she wanted.
“I know where he is,” she said, darting behind the pillar. “Rather, where the orphanage is. I suppose there’s no guarantee James will still be there.” She told him the street, and he nodded. It was in a prosperous area of Town, but that didn’t mean he could relax his guard.
“Did you book passage?” she asked.
“Yes. We go to Ireland, then Canada.”
She nodded, looking both excited and scared. “I took my things to the academy this morning. I can send word to have them sent to the dock. I didn’t want to trust Mrs. Jacobs to do it. She’d probably charge me for her troubles.”
“There’s no doubt of that. Shall we go collect James?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Caleb led the way, keeping her arm tucked in his and his head down. He still avoided the main streets, but the back alleys were mostly mews once they reached the West End.
“Two more blocks and we should reach it,” she said.
“You’ll finally see him again.”
She gripped his arm tightly, and he paused, glancing about at the grooms moving horses in and out of stables around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind.
“What if he doesn’t remember me? He was so young.”
Caleb thought it unlikely the boy would remember her. “Then you start off as friends and earn his trust, and his love will follow.”
“He won’t be the same little boy I knew. He’ll be eight years old. I’ve missed so much.”
He squeezed her arm. “You did what you had to. You won’t miss a day more.”
She took a deep breath, then made a face because the air smelled strongly of manure. “I’m ready.”
They started forward, but had gone no more than two or three steps when two men stepped out from behind one of the buildings. Caleb stopped, pulling Bridget close to him. She immediately saw the danger and turned to go back the way they’d come, but two more men stepped into their path. “I’ll distract them,” he murmured. “You run to the orphanage. I’ll meet you. If I don’t, go back to the academy. You’ll be safe there.”
“But—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. He pushed her aside and ran for the two men in front of them. Taken by surprise, they fell back, and Caleb got in several punches before they came at him. Bridget tried to go around, but just as she had a clear path, the men approaching from the rear went for her.
Caleb let out a yell, broke away from the men he’d been fighting, and tackled one of the men after Bridget. He was surrounded now, four against one. The odds were not in his favor, but amid the volley of fists, he saw Bridget running toward the orphanage.
SHE DIDN’T STOP UNTIL she reached the Sunnybrooke Home for Boys. Even then, she couldn’t stop expecting the men who’d attacked Caleb to catch up to her. When they didn’t leap out from around the corner, she pressed herself against the wall and took several deep breaths. It wouldn’t do to arrive winded and disheveled.
She smoothed her skirts and hair, slowed her breathing, and said a quick prayer for Caleb. If those men killed him, it would be her fault. She’d persuaded him to take her with him. He could have been safely on a ship already if not for her.
Swallowing her fear, she tapped on the door and waited. Nothing happened, so she knocked more firmly. A moment later, she heard footsteps, and a young woman in a dress and apron opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here about a boy. I had to leave him with this orphanage about five years ago. Now I’ve come to take him back.”
The maid blinked in surprise. Clearly, this did not happen often. Finally, she opened the door wider and motioned for Bridget to enter. “You’ll be wanting Lady Julia, I think. Come sit in the parlor while I fetch her.”
Bridget stepped inside a well-lit circular foyer surrounded by doors. One was open, and she could see the dining room, where the maid who’d opened the door must have been cleaning when Bridget had knocked. The room boasted two long tables where the children took meals. Windows looked out onto the street, and landscapes adorned the white, clean walls. Steps led to the upper floors. They were carpeted and bracketed by wooden railings that gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. If she hadn’t known this was a home for orphans, she would have thought it an academy like the one where she taught.
“Where are the children?” Bridget asked.
“The older ones are at their lessons, and the littles are up from their naps and having their tea.” She opened another door that led into a room painted pale blue. Comfortable chairs upholstered in cream damask were set in an inviting arrangement. “Wait here. May I ask the name of the child you seek?”
Bridget cleared her throat. “James. James Lavery.”
The maid furrowed her brow as though she didn’t know the name, but bobbed and closed the door. Bridget stood with her hands clasped as the sound of the woman’s shoes grew fainter and fainter. What if he wasn’t here? What if she and Caleb had risked everything and James wasn’t here? And Caleb—she’d left him fighting four men. What if he did not come to the orphanage? What if she lost both James and Caleb today?
Bridget crossed the small room to a window covered with white lace and framed by light blue draperies. She moved the lace aside and looked out on a small garden with ample room for boys to play. Indeed, several balls and a croquet set were spread about the lawn. Bridget prayed James would be here. Not only because she wanted to find him, but because she could see this was the sort of place where children were loved and cared for.
The door opened, and she spun around. A woman of medium height with coppery-red hair and large brown eyes stepped inside. “Good afternoon.” She had an upper-class accent, and the navy and white gown she wore was of the best quality. “I am Lady Julia. I’ve run Sunnybrooke these past four years.”