Page 78 of The Gentlewoman Companion

She squeezed his hand. “Do not fret on my account. I’ve had years to accustom myself to the idea, though Margaret is much older than…never mind. I am immensely proud of what you are doing for your sister and brother and for Susan.”

His throat swelled with the praise he had not realized he needed from his mother. Knowing she approved strengthened his resolve.

“I understand now why you’ve been out of sorts. You have lost respect for your father, and that is understandable, but people are complicated. He did many great things and would be as pleased with you as I am. Do not discount all the good he did in his life on account of his shortcomings.”

Silence fell, warm and filling, as James absorbed the peace his mother brought with those few words. It must have been difficult for her to know of her husband’s indiscretions, yet she did not seem to loathe him. No one had a more generous spirit. James certainly did not, for his father’s perfidy had changed his view of the world and set him attempting to repair his father’s misdeeds.

Perhaps he could not erase the pain of the past, but he knew he had much good left to accomplish in caring for his siblings and improving the lot of poor and orphaned children. But although he tried to exude certainty, James had little idea how to care for Margaret, Samuel, and Susan. He knew Susan needed her brother, Tom, and planned to set out looking for him the following day, but how to find the boy, he was not certain. Samuel needed an education, and Margaret would not be happy without employment, but how to ensure their safety and well-being, how to find the right school for Samuel or the best situation for Margaret, he did not know.

With Samuel beside him, James maneuvered his carriage toward east London. Margaret was certain his prospects of finding Susan’s brother would increase if Samuel came along. Convinced that Margaret simply needed a break from her now very healthy and energetic charge, James was happy to have his half-brother along.

“Where would you hide, Samuel?”

The boy shuddered. “I’ve seen many boys slipping into alleyways. Sir? Best not take your carriage to that part beyond the tower, but you was smart to dress common like.”

Before passing the Tower of London, James found a safe place and charged his tiger to keep the horses.

Samuel eyed the great pair of grays, then looked upon the shiny buttons of the tiger’s livery. “I’ll be old enough to be your tiger in a year or two. Will you teach me horses?” Samuel asked James.

“You want to be a groom?”

Samuel lifted a shoulder. “Or a gentleman, like you.”

“Like me?”

Samuel shrugged and glanced up at James, eyes shining with an admiration that stopped James’s breath. The boy shoved his hands deep into his pockets and lowered his head.

James took Samuel’s hand, and they walked into London’s most unsavory cluster of parishes. Foul air enclosed them as the streets became more populous. James, a little familiar with the area since he’d found Margaret and Samuel there, navigated with more confidence than he felt.

“How will we find one little boy in all this?” James did not expect a response.

“We call out his sister’s name. Susan! Susan!”

A woman with a scarf tied round her head and a purple bruise on her cheekbone said, “What you callin’ out for? I’m Susan.”

“We’re looking for a girl of two or three, called Susan. She has an older brother.” James described the boy.

“Haint seen ’em.” She sauntered away, hips swaying as slowly as cold honey, glancing back at him with a shadow-filled smile.

They continued down the street, asking in shops and of anyone they saw if they knew a boy by the name of Tom. Many did, but none seemed to be the Tom they sought.

Noting Samuel’s slowing step, James said, “We’d best get back to the carriage.”

“Ho, there. You in the fine coat.” A man loped toward them wearing brown work clothes and a fine new hat. “Heard you’re lookin’ for Tom? Susan’s Tom?”

“I am.”

“What’ll you give me for ’im?”

“I do not wish to buy the boy.”

“As I see it, the boy’ll run off soon as ’e sees you, sure as the mist rises from the Thames. If I snatches ’im, ’e’ll go wi’ you.”

“I only wish to speak with him.”

The man raised his palm. “Talk wif ’im, take ’im, wha’ever you do, you can’t be doin’ it wifout me.”

James reached inside his pocket, pulled out a few coins, and jingled them in his closed hand. “I accept your help.” He held fast to Samuel’s hand and followed the man down the street.