The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,24

gone full circle, I believe.”

Livvy rolled her eyes at him. “I did not take you for a man who lacked imagination, my lord. Not with the vivid and horrible visions your mind created for you when you were out of your senses. Surely you can think of more to find in life than that?”

Suddenly she was the focus of his intense, dark gaze and her skin, which had been chilled and clammy, warmed until her cheeks burned. “Perhaps someone needs to teach me what else there is, for I can think of nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Livvy said, irritated to find her voice had gone all thready and breathless. Sensing danger, she got to her feet. “Thank you for your kindness, Lord Kingston. I am quite calm now, so I had best return to the house.”

He stood too, reminding her just how big he was, how broad and powerful, even after having sunk so low. Livvy remembered how he had lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all, and her heart—irrational organ that it was—skipped to double time.

“I am at your service, Miss Penrose. If you feel yourself falling into a fit of the dismals, do feel free to come and remind me what a disgusting excuse for a man I am. I feel certain listing all my shortcomings will make you feel much more the thing.”

He said it with such sincerity, with such a straight face that Livvy could not hold back a peal of laughter.

“You are quite the most baffling creature I have ever come across,” she said.

Kingston bowed. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

Livvy shook her head in bewilderment and turned to walk back to the house. It wasn’t until she closed the kitchen door behind her she realised she was still smiling. Somehow, Lord Kingston had pulled her out of the depths of misery and made her laugh. He’d lightened her heart when it had been at its most heavy and despondent.

Goodness, but what a strange and dangerous fellow he was.

Chapter Six

9th December 1818.

The bizarre nature of dreams, blackberry jam, and indelicate propositions.

Livvy spent an uncomfortable night tossing and turning, beset by strange dreams. It began with the horror of life as Mrs Skewes and a trapped panicky sensation that had her waking in the early hours, gasping for air. After giving herself a stern lecture not to be such an addle-brained twit, she had gone back to sleep only to fall into a nightmare of a different sort. This time she was Lord Kingston’s wife, and was sharing his house with any number of misshapen goblins and terrifying demons. The walls of the house were lined with shelves, and the shelves were lined with endless bottles of brandy. Every time Livvy emptied one down the drain, Kingston would simply laugh and snatch another off the shelf and pour it down his throat. By the time she awoke again, far too early to get up, she was quite out of sorts and bleary-eyed. She wasn’t entirely certain which dream had disturbed her the most, but having dreamed of Lord Kingston at all seemed so dreadfully inappropriate she could only wonder how she would look him in the eye at breakfast. After washing and dressing, Livvy decided she wouldn’t be hungry this morning and solved her dilemma.

As the rest of the household was still abed, she enjoyed the peace of the early morning. She carried her candle down the stairs to the kitchens and stirred the fire back to life. Gelly would be here soon but, for now, she was free to sit in the warmth and allow her thoughts to wander. Somehow, she needed to think of a way to free herself from her brother’s plans, and his influence. The only solution was to put herself into someone else’s keeping, for she had no particular skills or contacts that would provide her a job as a governess. Her aunt might have pity and take her in, but Charlie would still be her legal guardian, and that was never again going to be a comfortable thought. Eventually, Charlie would land himself in debtor’s prison. It seemed inevitable now, and then what would happen to the children? If Livvy was comfortably settled, she could take them in and provide for them. If she married a wealthy man, she could send Harry to university and give the girls the season they needed. She might not be selfless enough to accept Mr Skewes’ tender mercies, but she was nothing if not practical. So