The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,9
eyes in his direction.
“Let me see,” she said thoughtfully. “Firstly, you are another mouth to feed, and you add significantly to the laundry. Secondly, you vomited on one of my only pairs of slippers. And, thirdly, I consider it a service to women everywhere to hold you in contempt.”
King snorted. “As I recall, I have given a great service to a good proportion of the female race. Never had any complaints, anyway.”
If he’d expected her to blush and stammer and run from the room, he was doomed to disappointment. Miss Penrose was like no gently bred young woman he’d ever encountered, for she simply held his gaze, a considering expression in her eyes. “I’m sure all the women you’ve ruined would concur, my lord.”
“I don’t go about ruining innocents,” he retorted, stung by the implication. He had become something he hardly recognised of late and there were many things he’d done wrong in his life but never that.
Though there were stories that implied he’d done just that, he knew the truth. More than one foolish girl had set out to trap him into marriage and come a cropper. He wasn’t some flat to be tricked into harness with some manipulative creature. If he’d done wrong, he’d own it, but he’d not suffer for some silly woman’s attempt to catch an earl for a husband. That was their own lookout.
“I’m certain you are a paragon of virtue,” Miss Penrose replied with a smile so false it made him want to gnash his teeth in frustration.
“Hardly that, but I don’t see how I can add to the laundry when I have no clothes. Or do you prefer to keep me naked?”
Ah, that brought a pleasing surge of pink rushing to her cheeks. She turned away and busied herself opening the blasted window again to let in an arctic blast of cold air.
“Since you have been incapable of dressing yourself, and you gave poor Spargo a black eye when he attempted to help you, you find yourself as you do. It’s no preference of mine, I assure you, and you add the laundry as we had to scrub heaven alone knows what from the clothes you arrived in, and there’s the bedlinen now, too, not to mention my slippers!”
“Then I must send my regrets to Spargo and I apologise for the blasted slippers, I’ll buy you a new pair, but why must you take it as a personal affront? It’s not like you wash the clothes yourself.”
King watched, curious to note another wave of heat flush her cheeks, and his gaze drifted to her hands. They were red and chapped. She moved, busying herself once more, and keeping her hands out of sight. He frowned.
“Charlie brought me here?” he asked, still a little hazy about where here was and how he’d got come to be here.
He had a vague recollection of Charlie Penrose, Viscount Boscawen, telling him he’d be right as ninepence in no time. Charlie lived somewhere in the wilds of Cornwall, if memory served.
“Yes.” She turned to look out of the window she’d just opened, and tugged her shawl closer about her shoulders. “Boscawen feared you were dying. He tells me he owes you for keeping him in one piece at Eton, so, in a fit of compassion, he brought you home to be cared for. Except his charity ended at bringing you home. I have no fond feelings for you, but I must do the Christian thing on his behalf, it seems.”
“Why?” King demanded, not understanding that in the least and discomfited to remember it had been her who had stayed with him when he was out of his senses. “You don’t owe me anything. Get your servants to tend to me.”
The aggravating creature just snorted and shook her head, glaring at him.
“You really do not understand,” she muttered, and stalked from the room before he could ask what the devil she meant by that.
With little else to do, King regarded the bowl of green whatever it was with distaste but picked up the spoon. His stomach thought his throat had been cut and was clamouring for sustenance. It wasn’t a steak, but it would have to do.
To his relief it tasted a deal better than it looked, and the bread was good and thickly spread with butter. So, one hunger was appeased for the time being, though the desire to find a drink was as fierce as ever. King set the tray aside and threw back the covers. He