The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,38

wind gusted outside and a plume of smoke billowed down the chimney, filling the room.

“Needs sweeping,” Walsh observed with a tut.

“The whole place needs pulling down and its occupants consigning to Bedlam.”

“Might I observe you seem a trifle out of sorts, my lord? Am I correct in supposing that Miss Penrose caught up with you at the beach?”

King glowered at his valet in consternation. “You faithless cur! Do you mean to say you sent that she-devil after me?”

Walsh frowned and stood a little straighter. “I would not say I sent her, sir, merely that she was quite determined to speak with you and, seeing as you are staying under the same roof, it seemed inevitable that she would eventually. I assumed the beach would give you a greater chance of escape or evasion, should you wish to employ either tactic.”

“What a load of cobblers!” King exclaimed, knowing his valet well enough to realise when he was pulling a fast one. “I ought to horsewhip you. I might have known I was being conspired against. I suppose you’re in on it too, are you? Et tu, Brute?”

“I do not know to what you are referring,” Walsh replied with all the offended dignity he could muster.

“All I wanted, Walsh, was a place to rusticate in peace. Stay here, you said, just the place, you said. Far from society, fresh sea air and no excitement. Bah!”

Walsh gave an affronted little sniff. “Would you like me to pack my bags, sir? I could have my letter of resignation to you in within the hour.”

“Ho! Oh no, my fine fellow, don’t you try that, and don’t pretend you don’t keep that same letter to shove under my nose every time we’re at outs. I’m not so green as I’m cabbage-looking. There’s never a date on it, Walsh! Ha! So there. You thought I hadn’t noticed, I bet.”

“I like to be prepared, is all. I know where I’m not wanted, I’m sure.” Walsh carefully hung up the coat he’d been brushing and made for the door, stony faced.

“Oh, pack it in, you old ham. We both know you’re not going anywhere and I’m not angry at you, I’m angry with me. I’ve sunk beyond reproach this time, Walsh, and it’s all her fault.”

Walsh heaved a long-suffering sigh and turned around. “What happened?”

King explained the goings on he’d experienced on the beach with as much brevity as possible, though it would have been quicker had he left out several choice expletives which did not aid the story a whit, but which made him feel better.

“I see,” Walsh replied.

“Do you?” King demanded bitterly. “For all I see is my sorry behind another few miles down the road to perdition.”

Walsh snorted, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“What the devil does that mean?”

King narrowed his eyes at his valet, who gave a nonchalant shrug. “Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” King retorted. “But you know as well as I do that a gentleman—even one as far removed from deserving the title as I am—does not dally with innocent, well-bred ladies. She is not a light skirt, nor a merry widow. Miss Penrose was brought up with the intention of marrying a man of her station and providing the necessary heir and spare, not having liaisons with her brother’s blackguard of a friend and, what’s more, under the poor fool’s nose!”

“Horsewhipping is too good for you, sir,” Walsh observed dispassionately.

“There, you see!” King threw up his hands before burying his head in them and groaning.

“If the idea offends you so deeply, why not just tell her no?”

King gave a bark of laughter that sounded just a tad too close to hysterical. “Have you tried saying no to Miss Penrose? I wish you would, Walsh, for I tell you now, she does not play fair.”

“She cried?”

“Oh, she didn’t just cry,” King muttered, folding his arms. “She… she looked all… defeated and hurt and… and like a kitten I’d just tried to drown in a bucket, damn her.”

Walsh gave a sympathetic nod. “I do see, sir, and I forgive you for your harsh words as you were clearly under duress. It is little wonder you took such a pet. It’s enough to put any man on his high ropes, I’m sure. I shall go at once and make you a tisane and bring you some of Gelly’s shortbread. You’ll be right as ninepence in no time.”

“Oh, no, I won’t,” King said darkly, staring into the