LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Six

      Greystone had never felt such satisfaction over a simple act of charity. Or perhaps this was not quite so simple. He still had to contend with Mother. But somehow the approval of Mrs. Parton—and, he must admit, Lady Beatrice, as well—reassured him that he was doing God’s will. And to think that the young lady cared nothing about soiling her new gloves and gown. That was a wonder in itself.

      For his part he found the soot on his own breeches and shirt something akin to a badge of honor. But a few marks on his clothing were nothing like the many bruises on the two little boys. Obviously they had been caned, for large welts covered their backs and legs. Greystone was sickened to think of anyone treating a child so cruelly. He had felt the whip when he was near Kit’s age, and the sight of those injuries caused his own back to sting with the memories.

      Gilly, Greystone’s body servant since he had turned four years old, had washed away tears and tended wounds, but never spoken a word against Greystone’s father, though he had inflicted countless physical and emotional wounds.

      “My lord, the physician is here.” Crawford motioned to the young, black-clad gentleman who had just entered the chamber.

      “My lord, I came as quickly as I could.” Dr. Horton gave Greystone a quick bow before turning his attention to the boys. At the sight of them he blinked, his brown eyebrows arched and his jaw dropped. “My lord—?”

      “Yes, my good man.” Greystone put on a serious face, although he wanted to laugh at the confusion on the man’s countenance. “These are my new charges.” As he made the declaration, the weight of his new responsibility bore down upon him. Did he have the right to assume the care of these lads? He must find out who they were and whether their parents had truly sold them to the master sweep, lest he be considered a kidnapper. Just the work for his brother Edmond, who was studying law. Or, in the event criminals were at work in this, perhaps a Bow Street Runner.

      While the footmen cleaned up the mess caused by the thrashing boys in the bath, Greystone apprised Dr. Horton of the events of the past two hours. He ended with orders that he should not mind the embedded grime, for it would grow out eventually. At least he hoped so, for if not, it would mark the lads forever and limit their possibilities. And while he could have left the chamber and been done with the affair, he found himself unable to abandon the two round-eyed boys, one wincing in pain, the other quaking in fear.

      “Easy now, Kit. What is your brother’s name?” Greystone asked.

      Kit had been cradling his injured arm in the other, but he let go and put the good one around the smaller lad. “This ’ere’s Ben, sir.” He whispered something in his brother’s ear that seemed to comfort him, for his shaking grew less intense.

      “I am pleased to meet you, Ben.” Greystone gave him a slight bow, earning a gasp from Dr. Horton.

      “Why, my lord, these are nothing but—”

      “My charges, as I said.” Greystone schooled the man with a sharp look. “You must treat them with all courtesy.” He softened his expression. “Do tend to his arm straightaway. I shall not rest until we know its condition.”

      After an examination of said appendage, the doctor confirmed Lady Beatrice’s astute diagnosis. “Not broken, but severely sprained. It seems a previous break healed incorrectly. The only remedy is to re-break it and set it properly.”

      Kit exploded with a howl of protest. “I like me arm as it is, gov’ner.” At Crawford’s scolding harrumph, he winced and added, “milord.”

      The distress on his face, mirrored on Ben’s, cut into Greystone’s heart. Poor terrified children. “There now, do not be frightened. We have no intention of causing you further pain.”

      “Most of the bruises will heal soon enough.” Dr. Horton completed his examination of both boys and prescribed treatment for several ailments, both internal and external. “And of course they are dreadfully thin, as climbing-boys must be to do their work.”

      His comment brought Greystone up short. Of course sweeps must be small enough to crawl inside chimneys, and many were children. It was a nasty but necessary business, for London would burn to the ground without well-cleaned chimneys. But he could not countenance such young boys being pressed into that service. He must examine the laws to discover exactly how young a climbing-boy could be, and perhaps find some way to ease their lives. “Yes, well, Kit and Ben will soon be too fat for cleaning chimneys.”

      That earned a few sniffles until he knelt before them with a reassuring smile. “What do you say, lads? Would you like to learn a different trade?”

      Each one gave him a solemn nod, although he doubted they knew what he meant.

      “Well then, we’ll get you some clothes and food while we decide exactly how to proceed.” He beckoned to the housemaid, and she stepped forward, her face as blank as her grandfather’s always was. “Lads, you must obey Lucy at all times, understand?”

      More solemn nods. Kit leaned toward him and whispered, “Th’other lady promised sweeties.”

      Greystone chuckled. “Lucy,

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