“For months,” Benjamin said. “When you know nothing about him?”
“I know quite a bit about him,” the housekeeper answered. “But mostly I know he’s a good lad. I know he watches out for Master Geoffrey like no one else has been able to do because the child won’t let them.”
“Allowing him to paint himself red and get hold of a tomahawk!” Benjamin pointed out.
“It’s not a question ofallowingwith that little—” The nursery maid broke off, flushing.
“I did try to speak to you about this, my lord,” said Mrs. McGinnis. “You directed me to manage things as I saw fit and leave you alone. Again.”
Her tone was definitely critical this time, Benjamin thought. And perhaps she had a point, little as he liked hearing it. He ought to have known who was in charge of the nursery. “Let’s have this Tom in and talk to him,” he said.
A few minutes later, the lad came into the library, and Benjamin got a closer look at him. Tom had a homely, round face, friendly blue eyes, and prominent front teeth. Benjamin thought his appearance might improve in a few years, when he grew into his features and the large bones showing in his hands and wrists. The boy was thin, but if Benjamin knew his housekeeper, that was due to rapid growth rather than lack of food. Tom grinned, not looking at all apprehensive.
“Hello, Tom,” said Benjamin.
“Milord. Was you wanting me to move on away from here? Figured you would, sooner or later.” He didn’t sound worried about the prospect, and his smile didn’t waver.
“I wanted to find out a bit more about you,” Benjamin replied. “Mrs. McGinnis says you haven’t given a last name.”
Tom nodded. “Don’t know it. Been on my own since I was small.”
“But what about your parents?” asked Miss Saunders from the sofa at the fireside.
“I don’t recall them, miss. First thing I remember is the streets of Bristol, scrounging about in the garbage tips for food. I’ve thought I might have wandered off a ship at the docks. Or maybe I was born in the workhouse and m’mother died.”
“No one looked after you?” Miss Saunders appeared horrified.
Tom shrugged, seeming not at all bothered. “It happens, miss.”
“How did you live? How old are you?”
“Somewhere’s about fourteen, miss, best I can reckon.”
“You’re not sure?”
Tom shook his head.
“And you’ve spent all your life alone?” She clenched her hands in her lap, her coppery eyes large with sympathy.
“Oh no, miss. Not at all. I found plenty of places, here and there, as time went on. Got taken in by an orphanage for a bit when I was small. Then I swept floors for a greengrocer. I spent a year at a dame school, doing odd jobs and seeing to the fires and all. The missus taught me to read, and my numbers, too.” He was obviously proud of these accomplishments.
“Didn’t you want to stay there?” Benjamin asked. “Or were you thrown out?”
“No, sir, I was not. The missus wanted me to stay, but I’d learnt all she had to teach me, see. So I went and ran the bellows for a blacksmith a bit of a while. And worked for a fellow who pickled eels. I like to know how things work, see.”
“How did you end up here?” Benjamin asked. He found the lad likable, but he had some ground to make up in oversight of his household.
Tom smiled and nodded as if he was well aware of Benjamin’s thoughts. “I got tired of Bristol, my lord. Seemed noisy and dirty all at once. Also, seems I’ve a yen to move. After a bit, I want someplace new. So one day I just set off south.”
“Walking?” said Miss Saunders. “All this way?”
“Not all at once, miss. I took my time. To see what I could see.” He smiled again.
Benjamin almost envied his easy attitude. “And you encountered Geoffrey.”
“I did.Hidingin a hollow log with his feet sticking out for anyone to see. I asked him what was toward, gave him a bit of my bread and cheese, and we got to talking.”
What did his son talk about, Benjamin wondered. He ought to know. “Mrs. McGinnis tells me you brought him home.”