Impressed, and deeply touched, nevertheless Charles felt a twinge of pity for the man who would one day take such a lady on as his wife. His life would never be his own, never peaceful. Louisa would force him to take in every stray or waif within sight. His house would turn into an asylum for orphans and pets, if not for unwed mothers and the indigent…

There would be compensations, of course. As he gazed on her face, still unable to find a response to her comment, he let himself wander in those blue eyes that promised such passion… until a responsive thrill warned him away.

He straightened in his chair and released her hands. “Well then, we must see what can be done for this Bob of yours, but I hope the solution will lie somewhere other than in one of my own households. Perhaps the Spadgers will be able to help."

Charles went to the door and called for Sammy, whom he had heard returning a few minutes earlier. Charles had no plan of his own other than to see whether some tradesman in town might be willing to accept the boy as a new apprentice. He decided it would be easier, and far more pleasant, to pay for the boy's apprenticeship than to take him with them to London.

But when asked, Sammy said he could think of no one likely to take the boy on. Charles explained his wishes, and the innkeeper agreed to send Jim to enquire in the village. There seemed nothing left to do but wait for the results, and since it was past noon already, Charles ordered up a luncheon for Louisa and himself.

Over their meal, Louisa entertained him with her views on apprenticeships, child labour and orphanages, and her intentions of reforming them all.

Considering she had cost him one day of travel, not to mention whatever expense he would bear for Bob, Charles thought he bore this with considerable good humour.

Chapter Seven

It was past two before Jim returned with bad news. None of the tradesmen in the village had need of a new apprentice, even one who would be fed and clothed at Charles's expense.

Disheartened, but knowing that his duty to return Louisa to her guardian as quickly as possible had to come before any other consideration, Charles resigned himself to guardianship of the boy. He told the Spadgers to bring Bob into the parlour. Bob was brought forth and told what delights were in store for him.

The more Louisa described these-a ride in the carriage, a place in one of his lordship's grand houses-the bigger the boy's eyes got, until his lips began to tremble and his nose started to drip.

“Why can't I stay ‘ere?” he asked in a pitiful tone.

Jim, looking equally sad, knelt down by the boy and tried to explain. But Nan, also moved by the boy's tears, exchanged a pleading look with her husband.

Sammy's eyes moved from his son to the boy and back again.

A look of understanding passed between father and mother.

“Pardon, yor lordship-” Nan came forward and curtsied. “But seeing as our Jim has taken a liking to t’ lad, if yor lordship don't mind…"

She paused, uncertain, so Sammy finished for her, “What t’ missus is trying ta say, yor lordship, is that t’ missus and I ‘ud be willing ta take t’ lad on-so long as yor lordship does what tha’ promised about his keep."

Charles looked from one to the other, then at Jim, whose face had taken on a big smile. He breathed a sigh of relief. “I cannot think of a better solution. Louisa?"

He saw that she was already beaming. She clasped her hands in front of her and said, “Oh, what good people you are! I know Bob will be happy with you. Did you hear that, Bob? The Spadgers said you may live with them!"

The boy was so overcome that he could do nothing but bury his face in Jim's shoulder. The Spadgers laughed and ushered both boys from the room.


* * * *

“That was very fortunate,” Charles said later as he dined with Louisa. Eliza snored under the table at their feet.

Dark had fallen, and Charles had given up on their journey for the day. He would have liked to see some sign of contrition on Louisa's face for causing the delay, but knew that any such hope was doomed to disappointment.

From across the table, she regarded him with an air of total complacency and said, “It just goes to show you, Charles, the good you can do when you put your mind to it."

Charles lowered his knife to avoid stabbing her with it. “In case you have forgotten, my first duty is to return you to your guardian-and without being hanged for it! I'm afraid by now, after this much time, General Davenport will have good cause to question my conduct. We shall leave tomorrow, with or without Miss Wadsdale, but I'm afraid we have greater need for her now than ever before. I cringe to think what the general would make of it if we appeared on his doorstep with no chaperone!"

Louisa shook her head blithely. “Do not give the general another thought, Charles. I am certain I shall not! You may simply tell him the snows were too thick for travel. That should pacify him.

“But,” she offered in a generous tone, “if you truly wish for Miss Wadsdale to accompany us-considering all you have done for Bob and Eliza-I shall not object."

“Thank you,” he said drily. “In the morning, I shall set out before dawn to see if I can persuade her to ride with us. I would go tonight, but I suspect she will need one night, at least, to overcome the shock of today.

“But I want your promise, Louisa, that you will not attempt to save anyone else from their circumstances here in Yorkshire! You may leave that for London-I am certain you will find enough causes there to occupy you. In fact, they must be waiting for you now, so the sooner we get there, the better."

Louisa dimpled, so he added, “If anyone shows up here needing help, you may set Mr. Spadger onto the problem and tell him to put it on our bill."

“Yes, Charles,” she agreed meekly. But, seeing her smile, Charles was not deceived.


* * * *

In the morning, he found Louisa dressed and ready before he was, but a gathering of people in the public room proclaimed that something unusual was going on.

As Charles entered, having sought out Louisa and recognized her voice amongst the others, he saw that Jim and Bob and a host of villagers had bundled themselves into overcoats and were ready to go out.

“What's this?” he asked.

“Oh, Charles!” Louisa cried, overjoyed to share her news with him. “You will never guess what Jim is about!” She turned and indicated the whole crowd with a sweep of her hand. “These are his friends, and they are planning to go house to house singing special Christmas songs! It's Christmas Eve, you know. Doesn't that sound delightful?"

“Perfectly delightful, I'm sure. But you shouldn't be in the public room, Louisa,” he said in a low voice.

“Normally, you would be right, Charles,” she agreed in a confidential whisper, “but these are Jim's friends, not strangers. And as soon as I heard them singing, I had to discover what they were about.” She gestured to them to move closer and said, “You must listen to one of their songs!"

Before Charles could say anything to stop them, Jim's company burst out in crude harmony, the young man's voice leading them all with his hearty baritone.

“Good day, good day,

My Lord Sir Christemas, good day!

Good day, Sir Christemas our King,

For every man, both old and ying,

Is glad of your coming. Good day!"

The song continued; its pleasing notes, joyous words and bubbling spirit made Charles want to linger to hear more. But, determined on his errand for the morning, he drew Louisa aside to speak to her.

“Are they not marvellous?” she whispered before he could speak. “Jim calls it carolling. They visit all the houses in the village. He says it is quite a custom with the people here."

“I have heard of this custom before,” Charles informed her. “It's very quaint, and no longer practised much. Louisa, this is all very well and good, but we must be going."

Her face fell. She looked at the singers wistfully. “Jim did say I might accompany them-"

Charles swallowed an oath, and she added hastily, “But only until you come back with Miss Wadsdale! We shan't go out of sight of the inn. There should be no complication. I have given you my promise, Charles!"

“But, Louisa, this is not an acceptable pastime for young ladies! Only the poorer classes engage in it."

“But very seldom, as you said. And I cannot help thinking, Charles, that these songs should be recorded before they disappear entirely. It is plain, if you listen, that some of them are quite old. If I went along, it should be merely with the intention of marking them down later as I recall them. I don't see what harm it would do."

She looked at him pleadingly. The song over, Jim approached them and stood at her elbow to await Charles's verdict.

Uncomfortable under their gazes, Charles ran his eyes over the carollers and could find nothing objectionable about them or their manners. They stood a respectful distance behind Jim-a dozen or more shining faces, ready to engage in an ancient and perfectly harmless pursuit-these people of England, the backbone of his country.

Louisa watched him anxiously.

It was true, he had not planned to take her to Ned's with him, thinking that perhaps he, alone, might be better suited to dealing with a person of Miss Wadsdale's temperament. The only evidence he had seen, so far, of a temper in Louisa had been directed at the chaperone's ungenerous comments. It would not serve to bring them together too soon.

He recalled that it was Christmas Eve. They would have to spend Christmas Day on the road somewhere, for they were too far away to arrive in London in time. He should have pressed harder, he realized, and even now could not comprehend why he had not. Surely these queer starts of Louisa's could have been fixed or dealt with in a shorter time. But perhaps he had allowed the incident to delay them, knowing a lonely hearth awaited him in Town.

But it was too late, at any rate, to undo the damage he had done. They would be off this morning, with or without Miss Wadsdale, but only if Louisa could be made to stay out of trouble. Charles reflected that he should be relieved that this time the object of her crusading spirit was only songs. Perhaps she would keep out of mischief if she had something to occupy her mind.

He looked at dependable Jim Spadger and decided Louisa would be better off in his care than if left to her own devices.

“Very well,” Charles said. Louisa rewarded him with a melting smile that caused a curious pull at his stomach. “But Jim, I must trust you to stay with Miss Davenport at all times. If anything happens to delay our departure again-even if it involves the most miserable of animals-I will hold you responsible. Is that understood?"

“Aye, yor lordship!"

He doubted whether Jim fully understood his reservations, but that the boy was prepared to deliver her back to the inn on time, he would believe. Louisa had blushed at his strictures, but now she dimpled at him. He fought the urge to smile back at her, but lost the battle.

Charles started out for Ned's with little hope that Miss Wadsdale would come with him this time, but honour bound to try his best diplomacy on her. He vowed to give her half an hour, no more, before he would give up and start again for London.

But the prospect of two more days alone in Louisa's company stirred a dangerous feeling deep inside him. It made him more determined than ever to put some safe presence between them.


* * * *

As soon as he left, Louisa ran up to her room and donned Miss Conisbrough's fur-trimmed pelisse, the cold outside being far too severe for her spencer alone. Then she rushed out to join Jim and his friends in the inn yard.

They strolled from house to house, singing a variety of songs that Louisa had never encountered, with a lilting, playful nature, designed more for dancing in a ring than for spiritual nourishment. She tried very hard to remember the words as they went along, but had to give up after the first two or three verses.

In deference to Charles's wishes, Louisa did not join in the singing, but held back, maintaining the role of listener. Charles would not have believed her, she knew, but she, too, was becoming anxious about their delay. She knew her guardian's temper, and wonderful as their sojourn in Snaithby had been, realized that one day more and they were sure to be treated to a show of it.

She was eager to face the general and have done with the punishment he was sure to mete out. Only claims on her conscience could have taken precedence over her duty to hasten home. But as long as Charles insisted on trying Miss Wadsdale again, she reasoned, she might as well take this chance to enjoy herself. If she knew her guardian, it would be some time before any amusement would be granted her.