The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,17

not go back to being that… that… No, he would not fall again and if he needed to use Miss Penrose and her disgust of him as a crutch then so be it. He’d show the starched little madam, and then she’d owe him an apology. What for, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he didn’t doubt he’d think of something.

Livvy fiddled with the big iron key, her fingers numb from the cold. Finally it turned and she locked the door in the thick stone garden wall that led to the abandoned farm buildings. It wouldn’t do for the family to learn about her little experiment. Certainly, she didn’t want her brother to know. If he got wind of it, he’d likely think their troubles were over and spend even more money on the strength of a glimmer of hope. It was nothing more than a glimmer, after all. If the winter was a hard one, that spark of hope would snuff out like a candle in a breeze.

“Ah, Livvy, there you are.”

Livvy jolted in surprise. No one came out to this part of the property, certainly not on a day when there were thick black clouds overhead threatening a downpour at any moment. That the voice belonged to Lord Kingston only compounded her shock. What the devil did he mean lurking about in the grounds, and calling her Livvy, damn him!

“I did not give you leave to use my Christian name, my lord,” she said, clutching the cold iron key in her hand. “You may address me as Miss Penrose, or not at all. I prefer the latter, I assure you. Good day to you.”

To her annoyance, he only laughed. It was a good sound too, a rumble of amusement that came from deep within him.

“I deserve that. Indeed I only said it to rile you, which was foolish of me when I have come to beg your pardon. You will be unsurprised to hear I have little skill or experience for such an undertaking.”

Livvy regarded him with suspicion. The path was narrow so she couldn’t walk past him and get away. What in blazes was he playing at?

He snorted and shook his head. “By the look on your face I see I am doing worse than I imagined, so I will try to make this as painless as I can for both of us. I am sorry that you were forced to endure my presence when I was… well, in whatever disgusting state you were forced to deal with. I am profoundly grateful to your brother, and especially to you, Miss Penrose, for all you have done for me. I realise I am a burden to your household you could well do without, but I will do my best to keep that burden to a minimum. I would leave, but—”

“No.”

Livvy clamped her mouth shut, furious with herself for having spoken. What he did was none of her affair, but if he left and returned to the same way of living, he’d be dead in six months at best, likely a lot less than that. Looking at him now, big and tall and so imposing, that seemed impossible, even if his skin was still a ghastly shade, his eyes sunken and shadowed, and his coat hanging loose where he’d lost so much weight.

To her surprise the earl did not make some lewd remark about her not wanting him to leave, instead he just returned a rueful smile.

“Indeed. My chances of staying sober seem far greater if I remain here for a while under your hawklike and disapproving gaze. I fear my charming presence will not make up for the lack of drink in the house for your festivities, however.”

Livvy shook her head.

“My grandfather disliked drink in any form, for his father was a drunkard, and his brother too. We were given a healthy fear for the perils of overindulgence. Charlie drinks to be sociable in town, but he won’t mind missing it to keep you in one piece. He thinks the world of you,” she added for the sake of fairness.

He had apologised after all, and quite prettily in his own fashion. It must have stung for a man like him. He was proud, she could see that, though his pride must have taken an almighty dent of late.

“I have no idea why.”

There was bitterness in the words that surprised her. For all he was smarting for her having seen him at his worst, she assumed he would take pride