Page 27 of The Pursuit of Lord Kit Cavanaugh

The lad was tow-headed, and his clothes had seen better days, but he’d clearly made an effort to appear neat and as presentable as he could. Under the combined scrutiny, he stood with his chin up, but Kit noticed he was mangling a threadbare cap between his hands.

That hint of vulnerability made Kit walk across with an easy gait. “I’m one of the owners.” His first impulse had been to tell the boy he should head to the school, but as he got closer, he glimpsed desperation and a hint of despair in the lad’s face. “What sort of work were you looking for?”

The lad swallowed and, after a second, found his voice. “Anything, really. I can fetch and carry, and run messages and such.” His gaze went past Kit to the racks of new tools now standing against the rear wall. The boy’s eyes lit. “And I’m a dab hand at keeping tools in good nick. My da was a carpenter.” The last was said with aching pride.

Kit didn’t miss the past tense the boy had used.

Kit felt a tug on his sleeve and turned his head to find Mulligan beside him.

Raising his gaze from the boy, Mulligan jerked his head to the side. “If I could have a word, your lordship?”

Kit turned back to the boy to see his eyes flare wide—that lordship thing again. Kit nodded to the lad and said, “Wait here.” With that, Kit followed Mulligan deeper into the warehouse. Kit felt fairly confident that while there was an outside chance of a job, the boy would remain, and Kit was reasonably certain there would be a story behind the boy’s request and Mulligan was about to tell him of it.

Sure enough, Mulligan halted and, facing away from the door, caught Kit’s eyes as Kit stopped beside him. “His name is Jack Deaver—Jack the Lad, we all call him. His father was a master carpenter, but he died a year or so ago in a fall from a ship in dry dock. Since then, Jack’s been the only breadwinner in the family—he’s the eldest of five, and his mother is near witless trying to make ends meet. Jack gets what work he can, but he and his mother both are too proud to take charity.” Mulligan paused, then went on, “I heard that you’d funded the school that used to be here to move to a better hall. I’m guessing that means you’re all for young’uns like Jack learning his letters and such. But if you turn him away, he won’t be going to that school—he can’t. He has to do what he can to earn coin…and I’m thinking”—Mulligan looked intently at Kit—“that there’s more than one sort of learning.”

Mulligan nodded at the other men—all four of whom had ambled closer, watching and waiting. “Jack does have a feeling for working with wood—got that from his da, no doubt. Me and the others would be happy to take Jack under our wing. If he turns out to be even half the carpenter his old man was, he’ll soon be worth his weight to us.”

Kit tipped his head, his gaze holding Mulligan’s as Kit narrowed his eyes in thought. Then he glanced at the other men and beckoned them nearer. Once they were close enough to hear, Kit quietly asked, “What about an apprenticeship? A formal one? Jack the Lad working under you, Mulligan, and you others, to learn the trade.”

Mulligan blinked. Then he nodded, and the other men did, too. “That’d do nicely,” Mulligan said. “He’ll work hard for that—he’s a good lad, and you won’t find any man more determined and loyal.”

Kit grinned and clapped Mulligan on the shoulder. “Right, then—let’s tell him the good news.”

On the way to the door, Kit paused beside Wayland to mention the notion of them taking on their first apprentice. Wayland had no objections; Kit hadn’t imagined he would. Joining Mulligan at the door, Kit looked at Jack, who had, as instructed, remained precisely on the same spot.

Kit couldn’t help smiling as he said, “You’re in luck. Mulligan and the others need an apprentice to train under them. You’re the first to come and ask, and the men have said they’re willing to give you a chance.”

Jack’s eyes grew round. He glanced at Mulligan, then looked back at Kit. “But I’ll get paid?”

“Aye, lad.” Mulligan lightly cuffed Jack, then looked at Kit. “The same rates as any apprentice—right, my lord?”

Kit nodded. “Exactly.” He waited for a moment, drinking in the dawning wonder in Jack’s face, then asked, “So what do you say? Are you the lad we need as our apprentice?”

Jack’s eyes lit. “Cor—too right I am, sir—your lordship!” Jack bobbed multiple times.

Kit laughed and set a hand on his shoulder. “In that case, welcome aboard.” He glanced at Miss Petty. “Why don’t you and Mulligan give Miss Petty your full name and let her sign you on to the payroll and work out your wages so you’ll get them next Friday with the other men?” Kit nodded at the gantry struts that the others had gone back to assembling. “Then you can join us in putting the gantry together.”

Leaving Mulligan to steer a dazed Jack to where Miss Petty stood waiting, Kit shrugged out of his coat, set it aside, and returned to assist Wayland and the other men.

Mulligan soon returned, with Jack the Lad in tow. As they worked, first Wayland, then Mulligan and the other men took to sending Jack to fetch and return tools. When Wayland asked Jack for an angle, Jack returned with a selection as Wayland hadn’t specified.

Miss Petty seemed to be the only employee who viewed Jack as if she was as yet unconvinced of the wisdom of taking him on; Kit was aware of her hovering at the edge of the action, writing notes on what she needed to order for her and Mulligan’s office as well as the larger office Wayland would make his design studio, yet also keeping a sharp eye on proceedings and on Jack especially.

Eventually, they reached the point of driving in the final large nails to lock the main section of the moveable gantry together. The four carpenters, together with Wayland and Kit, had to exert themselves to hold various struts tensioned and steady while the honors of driving in the nails fell to Mulligan.

“Better get the nails in quick,” Wayland warned. “We can’t hold everything in place for long without something shifting.”

Mulligan nodded and hefted a hammer—one of middling weight.

Shaw saw and snorted. “Even you’ll need something heavier. You’ll want to drive through the struts in just one or two blows.”

Mulligan looked at the hammer as if surprised it was the wrong one and grunted—then Jack was by his side, offering the heaviest hammer and reaching for the lighter one…

The lad had anticipated the need and had fetched the weightier tool.

Mulligan flicked a glance at Kit as he accepted the heavy hammer, then with well-placed blows, he efficiently drove the nails down, locking the gantry into its final rigid shape.

As soon as the last nail went in, Wayland released the strut he’d been holding and reached for a right-angle, and again, Jack was there, holding out the correct tool. Wayland nodded his thanks as he took it and quickly went over the corners of the gantry, then he sat back on his heels with a smile and a relieved sigh. “Perfect. Now we can get on.”