“We might have found them,” I corrected Mr. Fielding. “Or found where they might be. I do believe you had better come clean, your lordship.” I addressed the small, bearded man, assuming him to be Lord Russell. “Is the Foundling Hospital sending children to bawdy houses?”

“What?” Lord Russell’s jaw dropped, and he turned a gaze on me that must have made the serfs of the Russells of old fall to their knees. “What are you talking about, young woman? A bawdy house?” He spat the words with all the disgust of a man having to lift a dead rat.

The other man looked as aghast. “Who the devil are you? And you?” He pinned Daniel with a horrified gaze.

“I am Mrs. Holloway,” I answered, keeping my voice steady. “Mr. McAdam is Mr. Fielding’s brother. They discovered a house near Seven Dials that deals in the vile practice of providing children for the depraved. We believe one of your staff, Nurse Betts, discovered it as well, and was killed for that knowledge. She was looking for the children who have gone missing from the Foundling Hospital. Five of them now.”

“Missing?” Lord Russell spluttered. He glared at Mr. Fielding. “They are not missing. I’ve told you. They were adopted. I gave you the addresses of the people they were adopted to. They went to respectable homes, to be raised and trained to a trade. Not the trade you are speaking about now.” His lip curled.

“The addresses were false,” Mr. Fielding stated before I could speak. “We looked. They aren’t there.” He tried to get around Daniel, who again put himself in the way.

“The children aren’t there?” The gentleman with pince-nez sounded vastly confused. “Russell? What is this?”

“Yes, why don’t you explain?” Mr. Fielding snarled. “Daniel, Mrs. Holloway—this man is Bishop Exley, another of the board of governors. No doubt he would like to know exactly what you’ve done, Hirst.”

“Nothing,” Lord Russell began.

“The buildings aren’t there,” I said. “The addresses do not exist. Who were these people who adopted the children? I assume you interviewed them.”

“I didn’t.” Lord Russell stabbed at his chest with his forefinger. “The rest of the governors did. Or so I should hope. Is that not true, Exley?”

The bishop peered nearsightedly through his pince-nez at me. “This is the first I am hearing of this. Are you certain, young woman?”

“I was given the information and put it into the ledger,” Lord Russell spluttered. “As I do all transactions involving the Hospital. I record it, as does the treasurer.”

Mr. Fielding growled. “I am a governor, and I heard nothing about it.”

“Then there must be some hideous mistake.” Lord Russell’s rather ruddy face lost color. He looked about for a place to sit down, but saw me standing, and clutched the back of a chair. A gentleman did not sit in the presence of a lady.