Mistletoe and Mischief

and I thought it best to advise him of our arrival. Do you think he might have sent someone after you?'

Louisa shook her head. “I don't think so. I cannot think of anyone he could prevail upon to follow me-otherwise I shouldn't have left.'

Charles gazed at her curiously over his coffee cup; she smiled sideways at him. “I may not have his daring,” she said, “but I have tried to learn something of his tactics.'

Charles cleared his throat, determined not to return her smile. “Have you no wish to know what I wrote in my letter?'

“But of course, Charles! If you wish to tell me, I shall be enchanted to hear it.'

He purposely ignored the teasing note in her voice. “I informed your guardian,” he said, “that I came upon you in distress, that you related to me the particulars of your alarming situation and that I failed to see any other course open to me than to escort you home myself. I also informed him that I intend to find a chaperone for you, if at all possible.'

“Oh, that is clever of you, Charles. That will satisfy him fully.'

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Do you think so? I hardly think it will. Nevertheless, I do have hopes that it will comfort him in part.'

The truth was that during the night he had realized he had to do all he could to prepare the general. This was in part to soothe the general's worry; but mostly, Charles knew, he must explain to Louisa's guardian his own role in her affairs as soon as possible. The notion that the general might misinterpret this had kept Charles up half the night. But if the general had even part of a day to reflect upon his letter before they arrived, Charles might be spared the uncomfortable experience of explaining himself on the general's doorstep.

“I wish you had consulted with me before sending your letter,” Louisa said, refilling her cup with chocolate. “However, it cannot be helped.'

Charles paused in the act of chewing his bacon. “And why is that?'

“Nothing serious. It's just that I have acquired the habit of dealing with my uncle, and I might have been able to give you a few suggestions. But you did nothing seriously amiss.'

Charles rolled his eyes. “You flatter me, Miss Davenport.'

“Hssst!” she said. “Remember-Louisa.'

Charles looked about him at the empty room and then back at her. “I doubt if anyone heard me,” he said pointedly.

Louisa agreed, but with reservations. “We humans are creatures of habit, Charles. If you persist in being so formal, you are likely to slip up when it is most important. You won't object, I hope, if I caution you.'

Her air of wisdom caused the corners of his lips to tug. “I shall take it under advisement. In the meantime, perhaps you will tell me honestly what I should have said to your uncle.'

Louisa grimaced. “It is not,” she said delicately, “anything you left out so much as something you put in.'

At his air of enquiry, she continued, “If I were you, I shouldn't have mentioned a chaperone I could not produce. When one does not follow through with a plan, the general tends to discount one's judgment.'

Charles wiped his lips with his napkin, confident that what he was about to say would finally impress her. “Perhaps it is time I made my other plans known to you.'

She leaned her elbows on the table. “Have you plans? How exciting!'

“Miss-Louisa! I fail to see how you can derive so much humour from this situation!'

“I know. It is wrong in me.” She sat back and folded her hands primly in her lap. “You must not regard it. Go on.'

Charles looked at her without much hope that this contrite spirit would last. He endeavoured not to smile. “I hope you will find my plans acceptable to you…” he said. Then he went on before she could throw any doubt on the question.

“I have an acquaintance-an old school friend, Lord Conisbrough-whose estates are near Snaithby in Yorkshire. He is seldom there, but even he ought to be home this time of year. The village is hardly out of our way. I think it would be a good idea to pass by his house and consult him.'

Louisa looked at him inquisitively. “Even he, you said. Why ‘even he?'

Charles avoided her eyes. “Because he is not the sort of person-not the sort who takes much care of his estates. But, in this instance, he might be thought to have more… shall we say… pertinent experience than I have.'

Louisa looked confused for a moment. Then, light dawning, she said, “Ahhh. You mean he is a rake and is more accustomed to hiding plaguey females!'

“Not precisely,” Charles said, though he had meant something of the kind. “But he can hardly condemn me for such an innocent escapade when I daresay the world knows less than half of his own exploits. Perhaps he can find us a suitable female to accompany you from among his household. He has a mother and a sister, if I recollect.'

* * * *

Louisa seemed to have no objections to their trying Lord Conisbrough, though later that morning she was disappointed to be told she would not get a glimpse of the rake.

“Your uncle would have just cause to reproach me if I exposed you to a man of Ned's morals,” Charles told her sternly.

Their breakfast was over, Charles's bags had been loaded and he had handed her up into the carriage and taken the seat across from her. “There are times when I almost prefer not to deal with him myself.'

“If you fear doing so, you certainly must not on my account,” Louisa said.

Charles's temper had just been tried by the arch looks his coachman had thrown him; so this aspersion cast on his courage annoyed him more than it might have otherwise.

“I did not say I feared dealing with him,” he said irritably. “It is merely a matter of conscience. Ned and I were friends when we were younger, but somewhere along the way he became quite wild. If I hope to be effective in the House of Lords, I cannot be wasting my time with persons of questionable morals.'

“Are you active in the government, Charles?” Louisa's ears pricked up at the news.

“Yes,” he said after a moment's pause. He reckoned it best that she know. Then, perhaps, she would conduct herself with his reputation in mind.

He was gratified by the respect he saw on her face.

“How wonderful!” she said. “I had not expected this good stroke of luck. Which only goes to show that my elopement was not for nothing!'

Charles looked at her warily. “Why does it matter to you that I am active in government?'

“Oh, I often have ideas that I wish someone would act upon,” she said, much to his surprise. “And now that I know you, I shall have someone to propose them to, shan't I?'

Her tone was so ingenuous that Charles had to smile.

“And what sort of ideas are these?” he said, trying to keep the condescension from his voice.

“They could be anything,” Louisa answered, gesturing airily. “I have a number of concerns. For instance-” she turned on him suddenly “-what does the government propose to do with all the men who will be returning from the war?'

Charles was taken aback, first by her look, which seemed to accuse him of something dishonourable, but also by the strange topic. “What do you mean ‘do with them'?” he said.

Louisa looked at him as if he had not much sense. “Hasn't it occurred to you, Charles, that a large number of men shall be returning to this country without any work to occupy them?'

He frowned. “Of course it has occurred to me. The government is fully aware of the problem, Louisa. We do not need a girl of eighteen years to bring such common problems to our attention.'

“Then what do you propose to do about them?'

“You are not making yourself clear.'

“Let me express myself differently, then. I hope you do not mean to turn them off at the shore without a feather to fly with?'

“Of course not,” he said, growing indignant. “They will be given all their back pay.'