The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,33

better judgement he made her heart thud harder. It would be nice to have an inkling of what passion felt like before she had to turn her back on it for good.

The path down to the beach was winding and circuitous. A buffeting wind tugged at her skirts and pushed her faster downhill on the steeper parts, as sand and loose pebbles skittered beneath her boots. The beach here continued in the same fashion, sand with swathes of pebbles and large areas of sharp rock. The children loved it here in the summer, searching the rockpools for darting shrimps and tiny crabs that scuttled away at the last moment, and exclaiming when they caught them. This was not a day for such innocent pleasures, however. The sea plunged and crashed with white-topped waves. Thankfully it was far enough out, though the sting of cold spray still drifted on the chill wind, making her skin tight and her lips taste salty.

Livvy hesitated as she saw the earl on the shore, staring out to sea. His shoulders were hunched against the cold and he looked as though he’d been there for some time. There was something stark and lonely about his posture, an air of desperation that tugged at her heart. Nonsense, she scolded herself. It would be foolish of her to consider him a romantic hero. There was nothing the least bit romantic about a man who would drink himself to death. He was troubled, no doubt. After nearly killing himself with liquor, one could hope he would take the time to reflect upon his life and the choices he’d made. That being the case, it was unfair of her to burden him with her own concerns at such a time. She ought not disturb him.

With her decision made, Livvy sighed and was about to turn back when he looked around and saw her. His dark hair whipped about his face and for a moment his expression appeared so bleak her breath caught. Then he smiled, and she wondered if she’d imagined it, the change in him was so sudden and forceful. He strode across the beach and bowed once he was close enough to greet her.

“Miss Penrose, a happy coincidence.”

“Nothing of the sort, I’m afraid, my lord,” Livvy replied, deciding she may as well tell him now.

Perhaps, if he had been feeling out of sorts, it would help him to have something else to think about. It was how she kept herself from becoming blue-devilled after all, by filling her days from morning till night…not that she had much choice in the matter.

“Oh?”

Livvy nodded. “I realise I was less than explicit about what it was I wanted from you when we spoke at breakfast.”

“I beg to differ,” he replied at once, frowning at her.

“No, no. I’m sorry, but you did not understand me. I have no interest in a romantic involvement with you. None at all, so you need not suppose me madly in love with you or plotting to trap you into marrying me. I understand your finances to be in dire straits, and so that won’t help me in the least. In short, my lord, we do not suit.”

He gave her a doubtful glance, which she found a little aggravating.

“I’m afraid not every woman wishes to fling themselves at your feet, as disturbing as this information may be to you.”

He narrowed his eyes a little, which drew her notice to his eyelashes and gave her a stab of envy. How unfair that a man should have lashes as thick and long as that.

“What, then?” he demanded.

“I told you, I need your help.”

“Help which involves meeting me in private to….” he hesitated and Livvy tutted with impatience.

“Tryst. Yes. I’m sorry, I know the word offends your tender sensibilities, but really one must call a spade a spade.”

His expression darkened. “Oh, I know how to do that, Miss Penrose, I assure you, but then it would be you who was offended. What the devil are you playing at?”

Livvy took a breath, undaunted by his tone. “You know my brother wishes me to marry Mr Skewes. I do not. However, Boscawen is my brother; and I am at his mercy. He is going to ruin us, sooner or later. I have no doubt of that. I must marry, and I must do it soon. If Charlie gets any deeper into debt, I fear for what may happen to us all. If I marry a man of means who is willing to