The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,18
in who he was, in the fact he had saved her brother at a time when he’d been unable to save himself.
“Because you protected him,” she said, seeing no reason to deny it. Charlie had been weak, weaker than Kingston, and the earl had shielded him. “You didn’t have to. He was a younger boy, beneath your notice. You didn’t need to step in.”
He shook his head, a sharp movement that spoke of impatience with the subject. “Nonsense. Pray do not colour me in saintly shades. I don’t doubt I enjoyed smashing his tormentors’ heads together as much as they’d enjoyed beating him. I’m little better, only that I prefer not to pick on those who cannot fight back. I just happened to be there. I’m sure anyone else would have done the same.”
“No, they wouldn’t, and they didn’t,” Livvy said, folding her arms and wondering why she was labouring the point. “He was being beaten and terrorised almost daily until you stopped it. Plenty of other boys could have stepped in. None did. Only you, and it wasn’t only the once, so don’t make out like it was.”
He huffed out a breath and raked a hand through hair which was thick and dark. “I cannot abide bullies. Sadly, the place was riddled with them. Still is, I don’t doubt.”
Livvy nodded. “Well, you may stay until after Christmas, providing you behave yourself and don’t set a bad example to the children.”
She walked towards him, expecting him to step aside and let her pass. He did not.
“What about you?”
Livvy frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
A wicked glint entered his eyes, something dark and amused lurking there. Livvy’s heart picked up. He looked exactly like what he was: a bad man, a man so sunk in depravity he’d almost killed himself. The Earl of Kingston still carried the scent of liquor and sickness, still looked like a man who’d ruined himself with drink and dissipation, and yet there was something magnetic in his gaze, something that made her skin prickle with awareness.
“May I set you a bad example?” he asked, his tone mild.
“Certainly not,” Livvy replied briskly, glaring at him. “Now step aside. I do not have time to waste with this foolish chattering.”
He did so, the faintest quirk of his lips mirroring the amusement in his eyes as she hurried past him, but she felt the weight of his gaze follow her all along the path until she was out of sight.
Chapter Five
8th December 1818.
The bitter truth, a betrayal, and a straw to cling to.
With hindsight, Livvy should have seen it coming. She should have known better than to hope they might yet survive her brother’s foolishness. Well, now she saw it with such clarity she felt dazed by the glare. Her brother was still talking, still explaining all the reasons marrying Mr Skewes was the best thing for everyone, and her especially.
“He’s a good man, anyone can see that, and it’s a fine house too. It’s hardly a death sentence, Livvy, to be told you’d live in such a splendid place, with money at your disposal for frocks and pretty things, and he doesn’t care about the dowry. He’ll pay off all our debts and only take the land off our hands in return. It’s not like we’re making anything from it….”
Her brother rambled on and on, and her fists clenched tight around the iron key. The metal was warm now, and she could not remember having picked it up that morning. She’d been on her way out when her brother had asked to speak to her. The iron had been cold then, the touch of it against her hand making her shiver. Her mother had told her stories of the fae folk when she was a child. They were allergic to iron. Was it iron and lemon juice, or salt? Had that been it? She couldn’t remember now. Livvy had made herself forget a lot of things over the years, silly things that were of no use to her now. Like how she’d dreamed of going to town and having a season, of beautiful dresses and meeting a good man, a clever, handsome man who would make her laugh and think her pretty and… and what nonsense. Such things were best forgotten. She stared at the hand clutching the key, saw how chapped and dry the skin was from too much hard work and not enough care.
“No.”
Charlie stopped talking and looked at with an air of mild surprise. “Sorry, what?”