Page 53 of The Virtues of Christmas
In a man.
Necessary qualities in a woman without means.
“Is Jake the best choice?” Patience asked. “He’s smaller than Pennypacker’s boy. Younger. The cold might be harder on him.”
“Because his family is from Jamaica? Jake was born in London—he knows our winters—and he’s good at what he does. I thought we might move him to Oxford Street when he sells out this lot.”
“Oxford Street?” Patience turned from the window. “The great houses of Mayfair don’t need Mrs. Horner’s advice.”
Mr. MacHugh perched against his desk and folded his arms. That gesture usually signaled an opinion cast in granite. It also accentuated the breadth of his shoulders.
“Think about it, Miss Friendly. The great houses of Mayfair sit in Mayfair, but the day help, the merchants, the clerks, shopgirls, and not-so-great all come and go between Mayfair and the rest of London. Oxford Street sees much of that traffic, and the professor’s not distributing his wares there.”
A week ago, Patience might have spent half an hour arguing: Jake would waste at least thirty minutes getting to Oxford Street, but he could sell a few copies along the way. Pennypacker’s boy might simply follow Jake and stand him to one of those pints Mr. MacHugh had mentioned. The entire lot of papers might end up in the ditch if young Jake took a tumble on the snowy streets.
Courage, daring, and determination were not the exclusive province of a man in business.
“Oxford Street,” Patience said. “A different block every day, so Pennypacker has to chase us. One of the other boys can bring Jake a fresh lot on the hour, so Jake doesn’t have to waste time coming and going from here every time he runs out. If it’s a war Pennypacker wants, it’s a war he shall get.”
“We’ll have Harry take Jake’s place out front, and send Jake out the back.”
“Oh, that is diabolical, Mr. MacHugh. I take back everything I ever said about you—well, some things. The parts about being—”
He took off his glasses and polished them on his sleeve. “Time for crumpets?”
Patience was tired of crumpets. The treat that had loomed beyond her means had lost its appeal in a few short days.
“Lemon tarts. This calls for lemon tarts, and then I must apply myself to the next set of letters.”
“Harry!” Mr. MacHugh called. “To the bakery, and tell Jake to come in when he’s sold the last of his stack. Lemon tarts for Miss Friendly today.”
“And a lemon tart for Jake if he sells out in fifteen minutes!” Patience called.
A cheer went up from the clerks, along with promises to take newsboy duty for the next week, for the next year, iffresh tartswere part of the compensation.
Patience not only understood the ribaldry, she delighted in it. “What are you smiling at, Mr. MacHugh?”
His smile transformed him, from a sober and somewhat ruthless man of commerce, to a buccaneer of business, a pirate prince of the publishing world. A quantity of alliterative excesses occurred to Patience, but they all came down to the fact that when Mr. MacHugh smiled at her, he was as attractive as a plate of fresh lemon tarts.
Delicious, complicated, spicy, tart, with just the right amount of sweetness too.
“I’m smiling at a general forging of a path to victory. Pennypacker is no match for you, Patience Friendly, and I think his good fortune has turned against him.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re selling more copies because he came out a day early, just as you did.”
The newsboys called back and forth to each other, exchanging taunts and jibes. “So is Pennypacker.”
“He won’t be on Oxford Street.” The smile came again, along with a lifted eyebrow that promised doom to the presuming professor.
Patience smiled back and got to work on the next column.
* * *
Patience Friendly was gorgeous when she smiled. Full of mischief, plans, and energy. When she smiled, she sparkled like moonlight on snow. To see her illuminated with joy was like imbibing a fine dram on a cold night. Every particle of Dougal’s soul was warmed and cheered by the sight, just as he delighted to watch her hurling thunderbolts of advice in active voice.
Friday had been lemon tart day. Today she’d had Dougal send for stollen and divided the loaf among all of the clerks, then disappeared back into Dougal’s office.
