was the point, damn it?
“King?”
He looked up, only then realising he’d stopped halfway through a sentence and had been staring into space like an imbecile.
“Charlie’s gone,” he said, gesturing to the study.
“Oh.” Livvy paled for a moment before pasting a smile to her face. “Oh, well. He’ll have gone to see his man of business. Perhaps he’ll come back with good news this time.”
She laughed and the sound quavered, and King wanted nothing more than to put his arms about her and tell her it would be all right. Not because he wanted to kiss her, to touch her, but because he couldn’t bear to see the worry in her eyes, and he longed to take it away. She rallied, though, as she always did, and smiled at him.
“I’d best go and see the children, they’ll wonder where I’ve got to.”
He nodded and watched her walk away, a sense of having come untethered nagging at him, though he didn’t know why. King had always cherished his freedom, except for that brief little moment a few years ago that he’d forgotten all about but… but that had been an aberration, nothing more. It was better to be alone and free to do as he pleased. Growing up, he’d got himself out of his father’s house as often as he could, staying at school for the holidays rather than going home, and he’d left for good the moment he was able. Having to explain himself to anyone, to be accountable to anyone, was abhorrent. At least having made his father too disgusted to look at him had given him freedom. Yes, freedom was everything. It was. Yet now that sense of freedom felt increasingly like loneliness, like a lack of purpose, as if he was adrift in unfriendly waters with no glimpse of safe harbour. He stared down the hallway in the direction Livvy had gone. Livvy and the children, and the bloody piglet, and… and they were nothing to do with him.
They were not his problem, and a damned good thing too, for there was sod all he could do to help them. King turned his back on them and walked off in the opposite direction.
After breakfast, Livvy took the children back upstairs and occupied them up with various endeavours. Harry had Latin exercises to complete and, though he hated it, he did not complain once. She wondered if Charlie had told him yet that he would not be returning to school and hated that Harry was probably putting a brave face on it so as not to worry her. Livvy had been helping Susan make over the blue gown King had said was too childish for her, and left the girl happily unpicking the stitching so it could be refitted to her more slender frame. Lydia and Rebecca were writing a story to read out later at bedtime, and Jane was busy doing some colourful illustrations. George was happily playing with his building bricks, and Birdie was in a sweet mood, so Livvy took her to Ceci to spend some time with her mama for a change. The baby gurgled and cooed for Ceci, which delighted her, and Livvy left them both to enjoy each other’s company.
To be fair, Ceci never minded the children when they were in a good humour, and only found them fatiguing and sent them away once they’d stopped being easy company. It was the way of things, Livvy knew, and if they’d had a governess and a nursery maid… No, she decided, that would be worse. She and Charlie had experienced both sides of such women, from the sweet and docile but ineffectual, to the downright cruel. She’d never leave the children to people she did not know and trust. What if she wasn’t here, though? What if she married a man who would support the children, but only at a distance? What if….
“Stop it,” she muttered under her breath. Likely she would not marry at all, so it was a moot point. Eventually Charlie would realise they could no longer afford to live here. They would have to let Spargo and Gelly go and let out the house, though who on earth would want it in this sorry state she couldn’t imagine. She closed her eyes and told herself not to be foolish. It was a beautiful property, even in such disrepair. No doubt some nobleman friend of Charlie’s would enjoy coming here to rusticate and sea bathe and enjoy the glorious countryside, just