“Of course you do. I was trying to be admirable.” Mr. Fielding softened his tone. “And the devil I’d let them go to a workhouse.”

While he was harried, I could see Mr. Fielding was less grief-stricken, more pulled into the present than lingering in the past. Nurse Betts, I imagined, would approve.

Daniel moved another box and took a seat. Mrs. Hodder appeared, eyes wide, but Mr. Fielding waved her off. “We don’t require refreshment,” Mr. Fielding told her. “I have put upon you enough as it is.”

She apparently agreed, as she moved out of sight with barely a nod.

“She’ll give notice with all this chaos,” Mr. Fielding said mournfully. “She’s a wonderful housekeeper, but I have asked too much, I think.”

“I am pleased to hear the children are lively,” I said. “It means they are not broken.”

Mr. Fielding sobered. “They are up and down. Like normal children one moment—that is to say, hellions—the next, they take fright and will barely speak. Will be like that for a while, I wager. Their lives will never be the same, but perhaps they won’t be lost entirely.”

“You managed.” I gestured at the comfortable room. “Here you are.”

Mr. Fielding sent me a wry look. “Only because I became a ferocious little devil. Fought like hell for everything.” He paused. “But yes, here I am.”

Daniel waited until we were finished. “We came with news,” he said lightly. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Don’t be heartless, old cock,” Mr. Fielding said in a hard voice. “Of course I want to hear it.”

Daniel proceeded to tell him that the foundling children were safe and well, and of the culprit on the board of governors. When he mentioned the name Bishop Exley, Mr. Fielding stared in incredulity, then exploded with laughter.

“That sanctimonious old weasel. A confidence man, is he?” Mr. Fielding’s laughter ended in a cough. “Well, well. This means a place for a suffragan bishop might be dangling for the taking. Hmm.”

A suffragan was an assistant, if I remembered aright. “Do you believe you could have a chance at it?” I asked.

“Of course, dear lady.” Mr. Fielding gave me a sly wink. “Where do you think Exley’s demesne lay?” He spread his hands. “The East End.”

He chuckled again, then caught sight of Daniel’s quiet eye on him, and his laughter died. “You have more to say.”

Daniel nodded and related the tale of McGregor arresting the villains who’d killed Nurse Betts. Mr. Fielding listened stoically, and when Daniel finished, he collapsed back into his chair.

“Damn the bastards,” he muttered. “Damn them straight to hell. If they’re not hanged until they’re black in the face, I hope every evil man they’re banged up with tears them apart. If they don’t, I will.”