The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,52
have his way with her, then let him have some of his way with her. Possibly rather more of his way than was required for the job she had asked him to help her with. It was his own dratted fault, though. If he would go around being sweet to the children and making her laugh when she wanted to cry, it was the least he could expect. Really, she was only human.
“Here we are,” she said, pushing open the door to the master chambers.
She stilled as she went in. The last time she had been in here, she’d been so cross she’d sworn to never set foot in it again. Now she remembered exactly why that was, though in truth it was even worse than the last time.
“Good God!”
Livvy sighed. “Yes. I know.”
“It’s like a gateway to fairyland.”
“It is,” Livvy agreed, battering down the swell of resentment that rose on seeing all the lavish accoutrements that filled the room. The bed was swathed in rich fabrics, silk and velvet and satin in various shades of peach, and the room decorated with extravagant damask wall hangings. There were gilt mirrors and paintings. and a lovely tapestry fire screen. The pretty dressing table was crammed with bottles of perfume and expensive creams, and the floor layered with thick rugs. Everywhere there were clothes and shoes, carelessly abandoned, and the heavy curtains framing the windows puddled in an excess of frivolity upon the floor.
“You mean to say Lady Boscawen lives like… like this, while Harry hasn’t a decent cravat to his name, and everyone’s living on bloody cabbage, and you… and they treat you… like… like a damned skivvy?”
“Oh, it’s… it’s not that bad,” Livvy said at once, some sense of loyalty stirring to life and making her defend Ceci and her brother, though it really was much as he described it. “I mean, Ceci doesn’t mean to be extravagant, she’s just—”
“Witless, thoughtless, and selfish?” King finished for her.
“Well… yes,” Livvy said, folding her arms about herself. “But Charlie loves her to distraction, and he can’t bear to say no to her. She could have married a duke, you see, but she chose him instead, and so….”
“And so he’ll drag you all in penury before admitting he can’t afford her.”
Livvy shrugged.
King cursed a bit more before taking a deep breath. “We’d best see the gowns, then.”
Livvy led him through to the dressing room and even she paused, wide-eyed, on the threshold. There was no point in saying anything further, though. She knew Ceci was an extravagant ninny and no amount of explaining their desperate situation seemed to change that.
Apparently, King understood the point too and held his tongue, though his expression was stony. “How many days is this party likely to go on for?”
“Three, at least, perhaps five, though I’d best not take anything too new, or she’ll notice. So this corner here seems to be the most recent. I recognise that yellow as one she wore home a few weeks back.”
King nodded, moved towards the far end of the dressing room, and set to work.
By the time they’d finished, Livvy had a collection of evening and ball gowns that weren’t too badly out of style, morning attire, half dresses, a carriage dress and a riding habit, plus all the attendant gloves, hats and shoes. Luckily, Ceci’s feet were the same size and most of the gowns only needed a little alteration. King had remained silent as they worked, either giving a nod or a tut of disapproval as they sifted through the selection on offer.
She did not think he was angry with her any longer, but she was uncertain of his mood and did not like to tempt him back into another display of ill humour. He made no protest when she asked if he might help her bring the travelling trunk down from the attics, and they installed it in one of the rooms that had been closed off, where no one would come across it. Livvy carefully folded each gown and packed it away, meaning to work on one at a time in her room of an evening. She closed the lid of the trunk and got to her feet, brushing dust from her gown as she straightened.
“Thank you, King. I know I’ve been a terrible nuisance, but I am grateful, I assure you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, though his eyes remained troubled.
She did not know how to ask him what was wrong, and he simply turned and walked away.