The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,53

Eleven

12th December 1818.

Handsome farmers, secret assignations, and an episode of violent dusting.

Ross Moyle was a dreadfully handsome man. He was all wavy black hair, suntanned skin, and powerful shoulders. Livvy smiled to herself as she watched him work. There were worse ways of spending a morning than shovelling manure when one had such a pretty companion to look at. She pushed the hair from her eyes before setting to once more.

“There’s no need for you to shovel muck with me, Livvy,” Ross protested, the same as he had protested every time they’d done this for years now.

“Yes, there is,” she said briskly. “We shall share the profits and that’s only fair if we share the labour.”

“Ah, but it’s not right for a lady to be shovelling sh… this stuff... and ’twas your idea, and you what learned how it needed doin.’ I would never have thought of it.”

Livvy snorted. “And that may have been for the best. For all we know, it is a colossal waste of time and effort.”

“Nah, reckon it’s gonna work just as you said it would.”

Livvy felt the fluttering of hope in her chest as she always did, but did not dare let it run away with her. Maybe… maybe by the summertime they would know. “Did you get hold of more oak bark? I’m certain ours needs replacing.”

“Aye. It’s a blasted nuisance not being able to fetch it from the tanner’s in Bude, but I’ll take the cart over to Holsworthy this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry, Ross. I know it’s time you can ill afford, but I daren’t let anyone figure out what we’re doing. If Boscawen were to hear of it….”

“Don’t fret yourself to death, Liv,” Ross said with an easy smile. “I weren’t complaining to make ye feel bad. A fella likes to grumble about the state of affairs when he’s workin,’ ’tis all.”

Livvy laughed. “And I don’t blame you in the least.”

They worked on in silence for a bit longer, the sun warm on their backs.

“There,” Ross said with obvious satisfaction. “Give us a hand to lift the lids back in place and that should keep ’em warm and cosy. I’ll replace the bark in the morning. If this sunshine keeps up and the frosts stay away, we’ll have an easier time of it, an’ that’s for sure.”

“I brought some of our oldest sheets and blankets to cover them over at night, like you said, though I’m sorry to give you another job to do.”

“’Tis no bother, Liv. I’m happy to do it.”

Livvy helped put everything back as it ought to be and watched Ross stash the tools away, out of sight.

“How’s Sarah?” she asked as he walked with her back towards the garden.

“Fine and dandy and fat as a pig,” he said, grinning at her, his blue eyes shining.

Livvy laughed. “I shall tell her you said that, you wicked man.”

“Ah, she knows I love her, fat or thin. ’Sides, what kind of cheel would she be growing if she was all skin and bone?”

“How does Kensa feel about having a brother or sister?”

Ross chuckled and Livvy noticed the way his cheeks dimpled, and the flash of strong white teeth.

“Not best pleased, you ask me. Teasy she is, always clinging to her ma’s skirts, but she’ll get over it. Still the apple of my eye, anyway.”

“I never doubted it. Well, you’d best get back or they’ll wonder where you’ve got to.”

“Aye, well. I’ll tuck ’em in their blankets tonight and be here tomorrow, don’t you fret. Best part of my day, it is. Look forward to it, you know. I feel like… like we’re kind of growing a dream. Does that sound daft?”

Livvy shook her head.

“No. Not daft at all. I feel just the same way.” Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for… for being here for me, for trusting me with this foolishness.”

He laughed at that. “Ah, I loved you when we was tiddlers, Liv. You know that, and I’d never let ye down.”

“I know, Ross. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.”

King stalked the garden. It was a glorious morning, the sun warm despite the chill breeze blowing in, and yet he was still out of sorts. He’d kept away from Livvy since they’d gone to her sister-in-law’s room, though he wasn’t entirely certain why. Last night had been bad, the worst since he’d stopped seeing goblins and devils. He’d barely slept, anxious for no real reason other than that he needed a drink. Walsh had got up and