The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,75

you are talking rubbish. He’ll be apoplectic with fury and only more determined to destroy me.”

Walsh shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell you this afore, my lord, but as you was generally half seas over I’ll forgive you for not paying me no mind, but your father has been taken to task before now for his treatment of you.”

“The devil he has,” King retorted, though felt a little less certain of this as Walsh rolled his eyes to the ceiling. The man appeared to be praying for patience.

“He has,” Walsh said again, his tone firm now. “You might remember my old pal, Jack Taylor, him what’s valet to the Duke of Sandon? Well, he told me how the duke told your pa his treatment of you was a disgrace and an embarrassment. He said even Prinny has remarked that forcing you to scrabble about for money when your father was as rich as Croesus made your pa look like a miserly curmudgeon at best, and at worst like the only way he could control his only son was by beggaring him. Well, you know Prinny’s had experience of that kind of managing himself. And as everyone knows you’re stubborn enough to live in the gutter before you give in….” Walsh shrugged. “Well, you got the Prince Regent in your corner, and the Duke of Sandon. You reckon they’re the only ones who’ve remarked it, or that there isn’t gossip about your father, that he isn’t being ridiculed for his behaviour? Sure, there’s some what might agree with him after the way you’ve kept company with the devil these past few years, but not all. Not by a long chalk.”

King digested this information in silence, frowning. “My father hates being backed into a corner, Walsh. He’ll come out fighting.”

Walsh shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, but we both know Livvy ain’t gonna find a bloke to take them little ’uns on. At best, if she finds a decent bloke he might pay for Harry’s schooling, but I wouldn’t have no faith in more than that. Would you?”

King didn’t answer. His instinct was in accord with everything Walsh had just said, and the knowledge made him prickly with anxiety. What would happen to little George and Birdie if Charlie landed himself in debtor’s prison? Ceci would need looking after herself, never mind having the strength to keep the babies safe, and the girls. He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. Poor Harry would have to find work, but he’d been raised a gentleman. He had no practical skills and had not even finished his schooling. King let out an uneven breath. As soon as Charlie got home, he was going to have a frank talk with him and discover how bad things were. Perhaps he had no financial aid to give, but he wasn’t a fool. Hell, compared to Charlie, he was a blasted genius. Perhaps he could find a way to keep the family here and pay Charlie’s debts, something the man had missed. He doubted it, and there was every chance Charlie would tell him to go to the devil, but he’d have to risk it, for Livvy’s sake.

As Charlie was still away and Ceci opted to dine in her room, Livvy brought the children down for dinner rather than them eating in the nursery. King was glad of it, glad of the distraction. Eating dinner alone with Livvy was far too appealing, too intimate, but there was no chance of intimacy among the chaos the children brought.

The first hurdle was explaining to Jane that the piglet would not be dining with them. She had named the creature Barnaby, despite Livvy having strictly forbidden naming it at all. Tonight it was wearing a colourful paper crown and King was certain he could see rouge on its whiskery black cheeks. After some persuasion, Jane reluctantly bade Barnaby a good evening and allowed Spargo to take him back outside, but only on condition he got his pick of the left over vegetable peelings. Next was the task of encouraging George to put his clothes back on. As ever, he was running about bare arsed, though he had at least kept his top half covered tonight, which proved he was an intelligent lad as it was chilly in the dining room.

“George!” Livvy exclaimed, hands on hips, as George ran away from her, giggling.

“Allow me,” King said, smothering a grin as he took the child’s abandoned clothes in one hand and snatched George up