Mistletoe and Mischief

“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.

The carollers came to another door and began a song which demanded sport from each and every person who crossed the threshold.

Listening to their cheerful music, Louisa tried not to think too wistfully of her future, or of how unlikely it would be that she would ever see Charles again. Her chosen escort had proved to be far more to her than a mere protector. She could not think of Charles without admiration and-she confessed-excitement. She even appreciated the caution with which he greeted her ideas. No sensible man would go off half-cocked, and Charles was far more sensible than most.

Intelligent, too, and thoughtful. As an image of his lean, sensitive face rose before her, she recalled how skillfully he had dealt with Bob and Eliza, even though she had not believed him capable of such tender handling. She should have known that a man so high in the government would have superior skills to recommend him, something besides a handsome face and a charming manner… which he certainly had, whenever he chose to use it.

What she could not have guessed was how attractive all these things would make him to her, how much she would come to rely on his judgement, or… how deeply she would enjoy seeing him smile. Now, all she could think of was the way he made her feel when he touched her inadvertently or looked on her with his brown eyes, of the thrill that shot through her when he clasped her hands and smiled, of the melting need she felt every time she hoped he wanted her… Oh, how much she would dread to tell him goodbye…

“Now thrice welcome, Christmas,

Which brings us good cheer,

Minc'd pies and plum porridge,

Good ale and strong beer;

With pig, goose and capon…'

The carollers intruded on her thoughts with a song so merry that Louisa had to smile. As she followed them to the next door, wistfully, she resolved to listen intently to the music to ward off all thoughts of her leave-taking from Charles. And for his sake, she even tried to think more charitably of Miss Wadsdale.

After a few more stops, the singers left the last house in the village and circled back with a hopeful chorus of “let's eat and drink freely, here's nothing to pay!’ Then they came to the road and paused to sing for a carriage which had stopped to hear them.

The window of the elegant travelling coach had been lowered. A fashionable young lady peered outside, and she smiled to encourage the singers. But, while they sang for her, her attention seemed drawn more and more towards Louisa; after she had studiously glanced up and down Louisa's figure, the young lady's smile grew stiff.

Feeling strange under such scrutiny, Louisa tried harder to seem one with the singers. She moved closer behind Jim Spadger and attempted to shield herself with his bulk. She even pretended to sing the words she did not know, but the lady in the carriage soon called a halt to the performance.

She beckoned imperiously to Louisa to move closer to the carriage.

With bemused glances, the carollers parted to let her come forward. Louisa took a few hesitant steps toward the carriage and curtsied politely.

The lady stared at her and then said, “That is an attractive pelisse you are wearing.'

Louisa flushed at what seemed an impertinent remark. “Why, thank you.'

“You will pardon me, I hope,” the young lady said with an arrogant tilt to her chin, “but I do not know you. Are you staying hereabouts?'

Louisa puzzled over her interest; then she reasoned that her newness must be the cause of this lady's questions. A stranger in a village this small must certainly arouse curiosity.

She curtsied again, and decided not to take offence at the lady's impertinence. She should ignore it rather than