"70 out of 100 people in the world cannot read... if you can read then you are the luckiest out of 2 million people in the world that cannot." Call Bain

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Chapter Eleven

It became somewhat routine that Cassian would entertain Lucy during the day while the servants went about their business.

Much to Faith's reluctance, Cassian had purchased several story books for Lucy, and read them to her frequently. She never seemed to tire of the repetition. Lucy could also please herself playing make-believe when Cassian did have to pull himself away to complete the work that was piling up.

It was amazing how quickly he could fall behind in his correspondence when he was playing tea parties.

That was something else that he had purchased for Lucy – a tea set. Faith had protested, of course, but Cassian had simply quipped, "Faith, how can we possibly have a tea party without a proper tea set?"

Cassian had eventually persuaded Faith to join one of their tea parties. He loved to see her relax, and simply enjoy a few moments in time, without worrying about money, or Lucy being a bother, or whatever other worries lived inside her pretty head. Faith always seemed to have something on her mind.

Faith was so beautiful when she smiled. She was beautiful all the time, but even more so when she smiled. Cassian realised it did not happen often. He wanted to change that. She did not need to worry, if only she would let him help her.

Cassian's fleeting moments with Faith, and his time with Lucy, had quickly become the favourite parts of his day. Cassian forced himself to get through his work, and complete his correspondence so that he could spend more time with them.

He had been putting off visiting Angel Faith and his other nearby factories but he knew it was not fair to neglect his workers. He dreaded when he would need to travel north and be away for weeks at a time. It was nearly alarming how attached he was becoming.

When Tuesday came, Cassian skipped his weekly card game for a story about a princess and a frog. Cassian had no desire to drink whiskey and win money from those men when he had a better offer.

Cassian did not have any memory of his father. His memories of his mother were sad and brief. But he liked to think that Lucy was benefitting from his time with her. He knew he was not her father, but perhaps it was good practice for him in the future. Cassian had no desire to be the kind of father that Townsend, Hounslow, and Weatherby were, the kind that had staff to care for their children.

That thought made him laugh. A mere few weeks ago, he was scoffing at the suggestion that he would ever marry. Now he was thinking about the sort of father he would be.

Cassian found himself opening his bedside table drawer the following Sunday morning. He had not told Faith that he had kept her ring all these years. He was not sure why. Was he waiting for a special moment?

He held the little diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. It was such an exquisite piece of jewellery. It had to be special to Faith, which only made it more important that he return the ring to her.

"Today is the day," he decided, as he slipped the ring into his pocket.

Just as he had slipped his arms into his coat, there was a knock on his door. Cassian wondered who that could be. His breakfast had been brought up an hour ago. About this time he usually locked himself in his study for a few hour's peace while the servants walked on down to the church for the morning service.

Cassian opened the door to see Faith standing before him, wearing her travelling cloak, with Lucy in her arms. Her cheeks were flushed and pink, making her especially lovely.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

"I am sorry, I know this is inappropriate," she apologised immediately, "but I wanted to ask if you wanted to attend church with us this morning?"

Cassian smiled at her thoughtfulness, even if her idea sounded dreadful. Cassian was not a churchgoing man. He had a very complicated relationship with God. Going hungry for twenty years did that. "That is really kind of you to ask but ..." Cassian stopped himself. Was he really about to turn down a few hours with Faith where she did not feel the need to dust around him? "I would love to. Shall we?" Cassian collected his thick winter coat from the wardrobe and donned it, before joining Faith and Lucy in the hallway.

Cassian patted his pocket. Smiling as he felt the outline of Faith's little ring, he walked out into the cool winter morning.

He did not pay much attention to the sermon. His attention was solely on Faith. Her singing voice was sweet as she followed along with the hymns, and she swayed ever so slightly as she did so, almost as though she were dancing.

Cassian wanted to take her dancing.

When Faith finally noticed that Cassian was staring at her and not the hymn book, she smiled at him mid-verse and urged him to pay attention playfully.

When the sermon ended and the congregation dispersed, Faith stayed behind. Cassian was curious. Faith was greeted by the old reverend warmly.

"The children will be happy to see you again, Mrs Rowe," he said cheerfully.

"We will be happy to see them again, too," she replied. Faith then looked back at Cassian. "May I introduce Mr Kensington? Mr Kensington, Reverend Atwood."

Cassian bowed his head respectfully. "How do you do, Reverend?"

"Very well," he replied. "I have not seen you here before now."

Cassian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mrs Rowe persuaded me. It was wonderful sermon." He prayed that the reverend did not ask him questions about the sermon because Cassian had no idea about the subject.

"Oh, thank you," replied Reverend Atwood. "Are you here to help with the children as well?"

Cassian was missing something. "What children?"

"The children that are looked after by the church," replied the reverend. He motioned for both Faith and Cassian to follow him.

"You know I only asked you to attend church with us. You did not have to agree!" Faith hissed in an amused tone so that the reverend could not hear them.

Cassian smirked. "I did not need much persuading to say yes to you, Faith." He would not pretend to be displeased at the blush filling her cheeks.

They were led into the back room of the church. It was a relatively large room, with a crackling fire, and several pieces of mismatched furniture filling the space. Also filling the space were a dozen young children.

Cassian knew immediately who they were. Orphans. Orphans who had not lost all hope yet.

Cassian's heart jumped to his throat as he stared at each and every one of them. Their ages varied. Some were very young, toddlers Lucy's age. Others were grown, getting to the age where they would need to leave.

A boy looked to be the oldest. He was tall, skinny, and had a solemn expression on his face. He was huddled in the corner, watching the others.

But the others ... they seemed happy. What did they have to be happy about? They were orphans. They were alone. If nobody claimed them they would be sent out into the world to starve, just as he almost did.

Cassian had always been told to avoid orphanages. His mother had been convinced that he would be beaten or starved, or taken in by someone who only wanted a servant. He had best rely on himself.

But really, where had that gotten him?

Cassian received a shock when Faith's small hand held his for the briefest of moments. He had not realised his fists had been clenched until then.

"I did not think," she whispered. "You do not have to stay."

Cassian shook his head stiffly. He would stay.

Lucy trotted over to the children her age, who accepted her into their toddler babble conversation. The other children flocked to Faith. They seemed to adore her. How long had she been spending time with these children?

Faith and Cassian were left with the children. Faith sat down on one of the small sofas and she children gathered around her, one handing her a book.

Cassian relaxed a little, smiling. She read to them. She truly was an angel.

"Before we begin, can you all say hello to my friend, Mr Kensington?" Faith asked the children.

A dozen heads suddenly turned around and shouted hello at him excitedly.

Cassian chuckled as he returned the greeting, though that word bothered him. Friend. It did not seem like the accurate word to describe their relationship.

It took Cassian a few moment to realise that the boy he had noticed before had not joined the others. He was still huddled in the corner, watching the others.

The boy noticed Cassian looking at him, and he met his stare with a pair of wary green eyes. Those eyes were nearly covered by the untidy mop of curly blond hair that fell across his forehead. He was pale, skinny, and tall, so tall that his trousers and sleeves were too short for him. He needed new clothing, but Cassian wondered how often tailors frequented parish orphanages.

Cassian took a deep breath and walked over to the boy. A defiant look started to appear on his face. By the time Cassian was standing before him, the boy was scowling.

"What do you want?" he asked rudely.

"That is not the tone to use when speaking to an adult," Cassian scolded. The boy seemed a little taken aback at the firmness. "Now, what is your name, boy?"

The boy climbed to his feet. Cassian was again astounded at his height. He could not be that old, but he still stood just shy of Cassian's chin. "Kit, sir," the boy replied.

"Kit?" repeated Cassian. "Is that short for something?"

Kit nodded stiffly. "Christopher," he replied.

"And your surname?" prompted Cassian curiously.

Kit pursed his lips. "Don't have one, sir. Got no father."

Cassian sucked in a breath. The boy was nameless. "Who gave you your name, Christopher?" asked Cassian.

"Kit," he snapped. "I don't like Christopher."

Cassian held his hands up. "Who gave you the name?"

Kit chewed on his lip nervously. "The matron," he stated. "She found me on St Christopher's Day when I was a baby."

Cassian's heart sank. Kit had been abandoned. Cassian had only been alone since the age of ten. This poor child had been alone all his life.

"Is the matron here?" wondered Cassian. He had only seen the reverend.

Kit shook his head. "No, she sent me away. Got too old," he said bluntly. "The reverend, he ... he is letting me stay." Kit sounded unsure.

Too old. Cassian shook his head. He was not old enough to look after himself. Cassian would never employ a child his age, no matter how tall he was. He looked young and skinny. Not strong enough for a trade, not yet anyway.

"How old are you, Kit?"

"Fourteen," he replied.

Fourteen and cast out. How was that fair?

"Why aren't you listening to the story with the other children?"

Kit scowled. "I hate books," he said bluntly.

"You might like this one," Cassian urged.

Kit ignored Cassian's suggestion. Instead he changed the subject. "Is she your wife?" he gestured subtly to Faith, who was still reading to the others.

Cassian practically coughed up his tongue. The sound caused Faith's brown eyes to flick up at him in concern. Cassian waved away her worry. "No, no," Cassian replied. "She is my ... housemaid," he said awkwardly. Housemaid, like friend, did not seem like the right word to describe Faith.

She was so much more. But wife?

"Well, if she ain't your wife, she must be somebody else's, so you should quit looking at her the way you do."

If Cassian were not already offended at the tone and attitude that Kit used when speaking to him, he was now. He also could not comprehend the astuteness of this child. He was sharp to catch Cassian's stare, but then Cassian supposed he had not been looking much elsewhere today.

"Ain't is not a word," was all he could say in retort.

"What does it matter to you what I say?" Kit demanded to know.

"Because making something of yourself starts with improving yourself," replied Cassian simply. That was a subject in which he was an expert.

Kit just stared at him as though he were speaking a foreign language.

Cassian sighed. "Mrs Rowe will not be here all day. You really ought to go and enjoy the story."

Kit stubbornly crossed his arms. "I told you I hate books."

Kit had been abandoned as an infant, taken in by a matron and cast out at fourteen, most likely because his orphanage was overrun. It was highly likely Kit did not receive any attention, let alone education. Cassian deduced that Kit did not hate books because he did not enjoy them, he hated books because he could not read them.

"Have you ever learned to read, Kit?" asked Cassian.

Kit's green eyes flashed to Cassian's. Cassian saw shame in them. But Kit did not reply. He only stormed away, marching through the door that led back into the church.

Cassian sighed. He had made something of himself, but what was he? A rich man? Was that it? He only had to look over at Faith to know that it would be far better to be rich with generosity and kindness, then to be rich with money. Faith was the richest woman in the world in that sense.

When Faith had finished reading and cuddling each individual child, she joined Cassian.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned. "I did not even think when inviting you here. It was very callous of me."

"You do not have an unfeeling bone in your body, Faith," Cassian said sincerely. "But it was very good to come here. It really opens one's eyes."

"It is hard for the reverend and his wife to give them all attention and love. The least I can do is spare a half hour to read a story. Who was that boy you were talking to? I do not recognise him."

"His name is Kit," said Cassian. "He is fourteen years old and has just been cast out of his last home for being too old. And I embarrassed him about his not being able to read." Cassian was the callous one.

Faith frowned. "Oh, the poor boy. I know you did not mean to embarrass him, Mr Kensington."

"I have had enough of that, Faith," groaned Cassian.

Faith's brown eyes widened. "What?"

"It is obvious to anyone that you are more to me than just a housemaid." He took a step away from her and ran a hand back through his hair as he exhaled. "Faith ... you and Lucy have quickly become the best part of my day."

Cassian could not make sense of his life before. How could he have been content? He supposed he was not content. He spent his nights drinking and gambling with gentlemen who were not really his friends. He filled his house with faces to help with the loneliness, as Faith had said. He worked from dawn until dusk.

When did he live?

Cassian had waited three years to find Faith, to thank her, and to show her he had made something of himself. But had he? He was rich, but was it in the right way?

Cassian had waited three years to find Faith, and she had awakened him to a life he had never known he wanted. Faith was good, kind, generous, and impossibly beautiful.

"I imagine my life, even a month ago, without you, and I cannot stand the thought of it."

Cassian looked down at Faith. She was standing before him, her fingers knitted together, her bottom lip trembling. Lord, she was beautiful. Faith was an angel. His angel.

"I have been searching for a term to describe our relationship." Cassian was suddenly aware that he was in a room full of children, some who were old enough to understand their conversation. Cassian took hold of one of Faith's trembling hands and pulled her through the doorway and back into the empty church. Kit was nowhere to be seen. He stopped, and turned back to her. "And I think I know the one I want to use. In fact, that boy, Kit, he put me on to it." He chuckled, reaching into his pocket and wrapping his hand around the Faith's ring. He could not believe what he was about to do. But the words were coming naturally. That had to mean that it was right. "Faith, you have changed my life in countless ways. I only hope I can do the same for yours." Cassian pulled the ring from his pocket and held it up to her.

Faith gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Cassian smiled. She had not been expecting that he would hold onto her ring. "I will buy you another ring, but for now, the one you entrusted me with will have to do. Will you marry me, Faith?"