The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,15
an odd sensation, knowing one would be dead in some filthy corner of London if not for an old friend taking pity. He was pitiable too; he knew it and it made him burn with shame. Worse was knowing that, if someone put a bottle of brandy in front of him right now, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from drinking it and starting the whole spiral downwards off again. He couldn’t even remember when it had become so bad, when escaping boredom and sorrow had become a descent into hell. He looked up as a shadow fell over him to see Walsh watching him with concern. He was getting on in years now, his faithful valet must be sixty at least. Walsh had been with King since he was twelve years old, and had been more a father to him than King had any right to expect. It had been Walsh who’d comforted him as a boy, when he’d been on the receiving end of one of his father’s furious rants for crimes he’d never understood. Walsh who’d taught him the value of good manners and decency, though he seemed to have forgotten those lessons of late. Walsh was a good man. God knew he’d have to be not to have given up on King two decades ago.
“Don’t do it again, lad, I beg you.”
King blinked hard. He’d never asked Walsh to my lord, him—indeed, he’d begged him to call him King as everyone else did—but the man was stubborn. Yet, every now and again he’d crack and address him as he might a son, usually when King had done something so dreadful he’d frightened the poor devil half to death.
“I’ll try,” King replied. “I will, I promise. I’ll do my best.”
He looked up and saw the fear in Walsh’s eyes and guilt bloomed in his heart. No one else had ever given a damn for him. Oh, he’d been indulged by his parents and given every advantage, but it was the title that had mattered to them, not him. His parents had never listened to him, never given his hopes any credence, never allowed him the freedom to choose anything for himself. It had been stifling, and he’d rebelled against it as hard as he could, not that it had ever done him a damned bit of good.
“This is the best place for you for a spell. Couldn’t get farther from society if you tried, I reckon.” Walsh sounded altogether too pleased about that.
King snorted, trying to find some humour in the situation before he wept with shame. “Fine, I’ll just die of boredom.”
Walsh shook his head. “You’ll get your arse out of doors and some fresh air, get strong again. I’ve never seen you so grey and worn to a thread, and that’s the truth. You need feeding up, though I reckon I’d best slip the cook some coin to help out. Won’t do to insult Lord Boscawen, but he can barely feed his own brood, if you ask me.”
“What?” King sat up, startled by this information.
Walsh rolled his eyes at him. “Surely you’ve seen it? The children’s clothes are all wash-worn, cuffs and collars turned about more than once, I reckon. This place is falling down around their ears and no repairs in sight. Boscawen’s got pockets to let.”
“Why don’t you eat them, my lord!”
Livvy’s sharp words returned to him with unpleasant clarity. That’s why she had been so furious, so overset that her hands had trembled as she unwrapped her feckless brother’s gift. She knew they couldn’t afford such things, but her brother had spent the money anyway.
“Are you blind? Have you spent so long in a haze of alcohol and debauchery that you see nothing beyond your own nose? Or do you simply not care?”
“I didn’t. I didn’t see it,” King admitted.
Walsh shrugged. “Well, you’ve had your own troubles.”
“Do we have any coin left?” King demanded, horrified to realise he had no idea.
Since his father had cut him off, he’d been living off his winnings at cards…winnings which had dwindled with his ability to concentrate as his drinking got heavier.
Walsh shifted, looking a little uneasy. “We do. Not a vast amount, but enough for a few months, if we go careful.”
King stared at him, realising Walsh must have taken the money and hidden it so King couldn’t piss it all up the wall like he’d done with the rest.
“I hope you took your wages out first,” King said gruffly.