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!'
