I flinched at the vicious words, but I could not condemn him for them. Nurse Betts had not deserved to die, wretched and in pain. Likely the bullies had hurt many more besides her.

“I told you we should go after Naismith,” Mr. Fielding went on. “That chap I told you about, his enemy, is willing. He very much wants you to join us.”

“And then we’d be in thrall to a man as bad as Naismith or worse,” Daniel pointed out.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Daniel scowled at him. “This man wants me in his fold, does he? Have you asked yourself why?”

“Because you’re in thick with the police,” Mr. Fielding answered easily. “Of course I deduced that.”

“He’d pump me for knowledge I am reluctant to give,” Daniel said. “Then where would we be? Dead, probably.”

Mr. Fielding shrugged, the movement too nonchalant. “You disappoint me, dear brother. But you are no doubt right.” He seemed to dismiss the matter, but I had the feeling Daniel and I hadn’t heard the last about this man who wanted to go after Mr. Naismith.

Mr. Fielding became somber once more. “The hell of it is,” he said softly, “Nell was killed not because of the reprobate me, but because of the reformed me. She believed in me, the vicar who worried so much for the foundling children. If she’d known the rogue I truly was, she’d never have tried to find me to help her that day.” He rested his head on the back of the chair, gazing at the ceiling, hiding what was in his eyes.

“You are better than you know,” I said gently. “If you’d truly been the rogue, she would have seen it. You are not as good at hiding it as you think. She knew, and saw the good man beneath.”

Mr. Fielding snorted a laugh, lifting his head and wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand. “Is she truly so naive?” he asked Daniel.

“Mrs. Holloway is a wise woman,” Daniel said. He lifted a blanket and absently began to fold it.

“And Daniel is a facetious man,” I countered. “You went to divinity studies to become a vicar,” I said to Mr. Fielding. “Learned scriptures. Some of that must have rubbed off on you—you cannot have been exposed to so much goodness without it seeping in.”

Mr. Fielding continued to laugh quietly. “You do know that much of history is littered with blood-churning wars in the name of God, Christ, and good works?”

“I do. But these are more civilized times.”

“Ha. Read a newspaper more often, dear lady. You will learn much that is shocking.”

“Be that as it may, I will continue with my assertion that you are a good man, and can bring forth that goodness when you wish. A shoot does not grow on rocky soil.”