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“I am fortunate that the Bishop of Newcastle thinks so highly of me,” she said.

“When I first came to the church there, I was put in charge of the foundlings simply because they had no one else, but it was something I liked very much. I can educate them, you see, and I taught them how to draw letters and write their names. The bishop thought I did such an excellent job that he is sending me to Edenside because those children have no one at all. Scottish children, I am told.”

Next to her, Thomas grunted. He had been listening to the conversation mostly because he was quite interested in Maitland, but also because he rather liked hearing her speak. But now she was veering onto a subject he had an opinion about.

Scots.

“If they’re Scots children, they should be suitably unruly,” he said. “My mother is Scots, the daughter of a clan chief that I am named for, but that does not mean I have any love for them. You said you were looking for a patron for the home?”

Maitland turned to him, her big eyes fixed on him, and he felt just the least bit quivery inside.

He thought it rather humorous because he’d never experienced a reaction like that to any woman, not even to Tacey, but there was nothing about this woman he didn’t find attractive.

What had started out as sheer interest in a pretty lass was turning into something beyond the interest in her beauty.

She was a woman of substance.

“I hope to,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.

“As I said, having a de Wolfe as a patron would be a proud thing, indeed. Mayhap you will consider it after visiting the home once I have had a chance to organize it. You will see that I am very good at managing a home, and the children shall be cleaned and fed and educated. I have vowed this to the bishop.”

“Who is this bishop?”

“Antony Buxton, the Bishop of St. John’s Parish,” she said. “But the diocese is allied with Kelso, which is why I have been sent here. They needed someone and Father Buxton recommended me because of my service to St. John’s.”

Thomas watched her mouth as she spoke, watching the ends of her mouth curl up. It was fascinating. “That sounds quite prestigious,” he said, tearing his focus away from her mouth. “But you said the children shall be educated. I am assuming you are educated yourself?”

She nodded but before she could reply, Desmond chimed in.

“You have no idea, Thomas,” he said. “My sister is the most brilliant woman in England. She taught herself to read, write, do mathematics, and manage a house and hold when she was very young. It was out of necessity when my mother died, but she already knew a great deal when my father sent her to Alnwick to foster. I was already serving there, and the earl and his wife were most kind to take Mae. By the time she left to marry Bowlin, she was practically running the place. I do not believe the countess has ever gotten over losing her.”

Thomas frowned. “She was at Alnwick?” he said. “I went there many times in my youth but I never saw her.”

Maitland laughed softly. “I was probably not there when you visited,” she said. “If you went in your youth, then I am sure I was still living at home with my father. He did not send me there until I had seen twelve years of age.”

Thomas’s attention was drawn to her. “How old are you now?”

“I have seen twenty years and three.”

Thomas stroked his chin. “I see,” he said. “In that case, you are probably right. I am a good many years older than you are.”

Maitland was still smiling at him. “If you are, you do not look to be. I cannot imagine you being much more than thirty years or so. Am I wrong?”

Thomas cocked an eyebrow as he reached for his cup of wine. “Very,” he said, disgruntled. “Add five years to that figure. And I am the baby of the family, no less. Christ, I’m feeling old.”

Maitland giggled as she watched him drink, flushing madly when he caught her eye and winked at her.

There was a bit of flirtation going on between them, but she was certain that he was only being kind to her because of Desmond.

Still, she could swear there was something more to it…

perhaps there was even a hint of warmth there.

Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

Maitland wasn’t sure how to deal with it, to be truthful.

She’d enjoyed gentle flirtation in her youth, before she’d married Henry, but those days were long gone.

At least, she’d thought so until she was introduced to Thomas de Wolfe.

In the brief time she’d spent with the man, she could feel that giddy heart coming back to life, the tender heart of her youth that she was certain had hardened over the years.

Henry Bowlin had seen to that. As it turned out, she may have been wrong.

Something in her breast was stirring.

As Maitland sat there and pondered what was happening, a little girl with long, dark hair made a rather loud entrance.

She came racing into the hall, well ahead of the elderly couple trailing her, running across the dirt floor and straight to the long table near the hearth where Maitland and Desmond and Thomas were sitting.

The child ran at Thomas, leaping onto his lap and causing the man to grunt as she hit his rather tender gut with her elbow.

He scooped her up under the arms and plopped her onto his knee.

“Tommy, I’m hungry!” the child declared. “I want meat!”

Thomas grinned. “And you shall have it,” he said. “But first, let me introduce you to someone. Will you be a good lass and greet Lady Bowlin? Lady Bowlin, this is my… sister, Caria de Wolfe.”

Maitland smiled at the pretty, vivacious child. “Greetings, Lady Caria,” she said. “May I say that you have a very pretty dress on. I like the color.”

Caria wasn’t much interested in the strange woman sitting next to Thomas, but she did look down at her garment when the lady commented on it. “It’s mine,” she said simply, tugging at it for a moment, before her attention swiftly moved elsewhere. “I want meat!”

Thomas wriggled his eyebrows at the rude child. “Greet the lady, Caria,” he told her. “Be courteous.”

Caria was spoiled, but she wasn’t insolent, and anything Thomas told her to do, she would do. She looked over at the woman, studying her for a moment, before speaking.

“Why are you dressed like that?” she asked. “Are you from a nunnery?”

Maitland glanced at her clothing. In addition to the linen wimple on her head, she was dressed in a rough woolen shift and an old woolen tunic that went to her ankles.

Around her waist was a belt fashioned from leather, certainly not like the belts she used to wear when she was married to Henry.

He liked to have his wife nicely dressed and she had three very nice surcoats to wear along with a collection of shifts, belts, scarves, and anything else fine ladies wore.

Any meager money they had went to her clothing and appearance because Henry was convinced that men would see his well-dressed wife and think he was well-off.

She’d been a symbol for him and nothing more.

“Nay, I am not from a nunnery,” she said after a moment. “But I do serve the church, which is why I dress modestly. Do you go to church and pray, Lady Caria?”

Caria nodded. “Sometimes,” she said, her attention briefly diverted to Jordan and William as they sat on the opposite side of the table. “Matha gives me alms for the poor and I choose who gets the coin.”

Across the table, Jordan heard her and she snorted softly. “I’ve told ye before that ye dunna pick and choose,” she said, smiling apologetically at Maitland. “That lass doesna quite understand the concept of compassion, but she is tryin’.”

Maitland smiled, a genuine gesture. “I see,” she said, her attention returning to Caria. She really was a pretty little thing, with bright eyes and pale skin. “Caria, I want you to think on something I am about to tell you. Can you do that?”

Caria nodded, but it was clear that she was disinterested. “Think about what?”

“I want you to pretend you are very poor,” she said.

“I am sure you can pretend you are a poor girl. Now, imagine if you had no food and because you had no food, you went to church to hope that a fine lady would help you and give you a coin. But imagine that the fine lady decided to give someone else a coin over you, and now you have nothing to buy food with. Would that make you happy?”

Caria’s brow furrowed. “I would make the fine lady give me a coin.”

Maitland nodded. “Of course you would want her to,” she said. “And if she did, that would mean she was showing you compassion. She would want to help you. But if she gave the coin to another, that would make you feel badly, wouldn’t it?”

Caria was rather confused with the concept, but she was a bright girl. She understood what Maitland was saying, sort of. “But Matha only gives me one coin,” she said. “I can only give it to one person and I must pick who that person is.”

Maitland had a point to illustrate with the child who only seemed to see the power that the coin gave her when choosing a worthy recipient. Compassion was a strange concept for the entitled sometimes, and especially with children who hadn’t seen much of the world and its problems.

Everyone was watching Maitland at this point and she knew it; perhaps she was hoping Thomas was watching her enough to be impressed with how she was communicating with the child.

Everyone had always told her she was very good with children and she had no idea why she should want to impress Thomas, but she did.

Perhaps impressing him might just get her the patronage for Edenside that she wanted.

Or perhaps it would prove to her that the warmth she had been feeling from him wasn’t simply her imagination.

Whatever the case, she was determined to impress him.

Reaching out, she picked up a hunk of bread from a wooden plate on the table.