The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,49

his way to the kitchen.

“Is Lord Kingston feeling better now?” she asked, wondering if his valet might give her some insight into why he’d run away in such a tizzy.

“I can’t rightly say, Miss,” Walsh said with a heavy sigh. “Keeps his thoughts to himself, he does. A deep one, as they say.”

Well, that was hardly helpful. “Did he eat any of the breakfast I sent up?”

“No, Miss,” the valet said mournfully. “I am afraid he didn’t eat a bite of it. I worry for the poor devil. I do what I can, but I’m only a valet, when the fellow needs a wife. Lonely, he is, I reckon, not that he’d ever say so. He needs a bit of care and looking after, like any man, or I fear he’ll take a turn for the worse.”

“Mr Walsh,” Livvy said sternly. “I have told you in no uncertain terms that I have no designs on Lord Kingston, so—”

“Oh, no, Miss!” Walsh broke in, his expression one of mortification she didn’t entirely believe. “I didn’t mean you. No, indeed. You made yourself quite plain and I wouldn’t think to ever try to change your mind. Good heavens, what would you think of me? No, it’s only that he’s my master and a good fellow at heart. It plain tears me up to see him in such a way and if he goes and… and….”

Walsh’s voice wobbled dramatically. He took a deep shuddering breath and cleared his throat.

“I just don’t know what would become of me if he surrenders this time, and… and turns back to the bottle. For there won’t be no one to save him next go around.”

Livvy stared at the valet in horror. “Good heavens, is… is it so bad?”

Walsh shrugged. “Oh, he puts a brave face on it, Miss, and he’s trying hard. Truth is, I never saw him try as hard as he’s doing now and… and that is surely down to you and your kindness. He doesn’t want to let you down see, Miss Penrose. You saved his life.”

“Nonsense,” Livvy said briskly, thoroughly unsettled by this entire conversation and not least the disturbing gleam in the valet’s eyes, which was… she did not know what. “Boscawen saved him. I wanted to turn him out on his ear as you must surely know.”

“Ah, but you didn’t, Miss, and ’twas you not your brother what sat and nursed him and chased the devils away.”

Livvy opened and closed her mouth to protest, but decided this conversation had gone on quite long enough. “Where is the earl now?”

“Sleeping, Miss,” Walsh replied, with the regretful air of a man who expected King to shuffle off this mortal coil at any moment.

“Thank you, Mr Walsh,” Livvy said, quite out of patience with the fellow, and set off to see for herself.

Livvy knocked quietly enough not disturb King if he really was sleeping, but not so quietly that he’d not hear if he wasn’t. When there was no reply, she cracked the door open and peered in. The room was dim, the curtains closed against the sunshine outside, and Livvy looked to the bed. Sure enough, King was sprawled across the mattress. He had rid himself of coat, waistcoat, and cravat, and he looked flushed and tousled, as if he’d had unpleasant dreams. Suddenly Walsh’s words came back to her with more force and she remembered King earlier that morning, white as a sheet, and… and had his hands been trembling?

Oh, King.

Too overcome by anxiety to bother herself with her outrageous offence against both propriety and his own privacy, she hurried to the bed.

“King?” she whispered. There was no reply, and Livvy sat down on the mattress, taking one of his hands in hers and reaching up to push a dark lock of hair from his forehead. “King, are you well?”

When there was no response, she put her hand to his cheek, relieved to discover he was not feverish, but finding her concern undiminished. She laid her palm over his heart next and breathed a sigh of relief to find it beating strong and sure.

“Livvy? What the devil are you doing?”

Livvy gave a yelp of alarm. “Oh, my! You startled me. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was asleep,” he said, blinking at her in confusion. “Which does not answer the question. Why are you in my bedroom and putting your hands on me?”

“Oh… Ummm. Well, there is a reasonable explanation for that,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless and annoyed with herself, not to