The Girl is Not For Christmas: A Christmas Regency Romance Novel

by Emma V. Leech

  “Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Please, don’t. I cannot, but you must get out of these wet things before you catch your death.”

  He moved behind her, undoing everything he could see and then retreating to the door.

  “Get changed, Livvy,” he said, keeping his voice firm and no nonsense because the slightest quaver was going to spell ruin for them both. “I’ll be right outside. Let me know when you’re decent.”

  He turned to leave before thinking better of it and adding.

  “And I do mean decent. No… No tricks, love, I beg you. I… Not today, please.”

  She looked away from him, the light in her eyes dying, but she nodded listlessly. Oh God. King felt like a brute for walking away from her, but he reminded himself it was for her own sake. Poor Livvy was all about in her head, to be looking at him in such a way. Him, of all people. He was saving her from herself. He must remember that.

  King leaned back against the wall outside Livvy’s door, frowning down at his boots.

  “Is Livvy all right?”

  He looked up to see Harry regarding him anxiously. King straightened, aware that it was extremely inappropriate for him to be here. Not that Harry seemed to have registered that King ought to be nowhere near his maiden aunt’s bedroom.

  “A bit worn out, I think,” King said with a smile. “I’ve only been here a few weeks and I feel like I might suffer a nervous collapse. Your poor aunt has been doing it for years.”

  Harry’s expression grew serious, and he nodded. “Father has made a dreadful mess of things, hasn’t he?”

  King hesitated, unwilling to say anything less than complimentary about the boy’s father, and worried that if he began, he might let his tongue run away with him.

  The boy snorted and shook his head. “It’s all right. I’m not a child. There have been times this past year I’ve felt more of a grown-up than Papa, to be honest. I mean, don’t misunderstand me, he’s a wonderful father, he truly is. I’ve always felt that. He’s such fun, or at least… he used to be before the money troubles got so bad. We used to play games, and everyone was always laughing, well, except for Livvy the past year or so, but then she saw what was happening before we did.”

  King didn’t know what to say. He had long thought Harry was an exceptional young man, kind-hearted and serious, but with a sense of humour too. He looked after his siblings, even when they drove him to distraction, and did his best to be the man of the house.

  “Livvy should have been in charge of the estate,” Harry went on. “She’s always been far cleverer than Papa. He knows it too, only….”

  He shrugged and went to stand by the window, staring out a day that was full of soft grey mists that hung low and clung to everything like spun sugar.

  “Pride, Harry,” King said with a sigh. “We’re all guilty of it. Hard for your father to let his little sister take over the running of the estate.”

  “Yes, so he ruined us instead.”

  The bitterness of the words was so raw King’s heart ached.

  “Harry,” he said, moving closer to the lad.

  To his astonishment, Harry turned and flung his arms about him, sobbing, his thin frame racked with emotion.

  King froze, uncertain what on earth to do. Small children and women were one thing, but…. He had a sudden, vivid memory of being about Harry’s age and his beloved dog dying. She had been old and sick, and the end hardly unexpected, but he had been distraught all the same and had turned to his father for comfort.

  “Emotion is for the lower orders,” the marquess had said coldly. “Go to your room until you can behave in a manner that does not bring you disgrace.”

  It had helped, at least, for misery had become anger, and King had sworn to hate his father until the day he died.

  With the memory clear in his mind, King hugged the boy tight.

  “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

  Harry wept a moment longer before getting himself back under control. His cheeks were burning, and he could barely meet King’s eye.

  “I… I beg your pardon, my lord.”

  “Oh, stuff that,” King said impatiently. “I told you, it’s King, and we all feel like blubbing now and then. God knows I have of late.”

  “Y-You?” Harry looked at him with such frank astonishment that King could not help but laugh.

  “Yes, me!” he exclaimed. “Did you think I was made of stone? Did you not hear me weeping and screaming in terror when I was out of my senses with drink? My God, Harry. We are none of us perfect. Not your father, not you, and most certainly not me. We are all flawed, doing our best, muddling through. Sometimes we will succeed and sometimes we will fail. It’s how you face failure that makes you a man though, Harry. Taking responsibility for your own actions and dealing with the consequences is what makes us stronger, not weaker.”

  Harry nodded, standing a little taller. He was pale and his eyes were red, but he looked thoughtful. He took a deep breath before he spoke again, “I won’t ever be able to go back to school, will I? Nor go to university?”

  The words were flat, spoken with no inflection, no emotion, just a finality that was heartbreaking.

  King felt impotent rage swell in his chest. “Yes, Harry, you will. If there is anything I can do about it, you will. I… I don’t know how, and it might take me a little time, but….”

  Surely he could get someone to pay for such a promising young man’s education. He cast about in his mind, coming up with the names of two wealthy widows who had promised him a reward for… well, never mind what for, he didn’t wish to remember that, but they might do this for him.

  Harry was staring at him, wide-eyed. “B-But I couldn’t ask—”

  “You didn’t ask, I offered,” King retorted. “And if I wasn’t in such a… a bind myself I’d pay for every last farthing gladly, but… well, my father is a good deal worse than yours, lad, so take comfort in that, at least.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Harry was bright-eyed, looking very much as if he might weep again.

  “Don’t say anything, not to anyone,” King said firmly. “I can’t say for certain I can do it but… but I swear I’ll do my very best for you, Harry. Word of honour.”

  King held out his hand and Harry took it, shaking it with such an expression of sincere earnestness that King’s throat grew tight.

  “King, I… I know I ought not ask such an… indelicate question....”

  King snorted at that. “Ah, Harry. It’s a bit late for that and we’re both men of the world are we not. Out with it.”

  “Couldn’t you marry Livvy? I think she likes you very much.”

  Damn him for not seeing that coming. It took him a moment to shift the stone that had somehow lodged in his throat. “I can’t,” he said, hardly able to meet the boy’s eye. “I would if… but I can’t. Besides, she deserves better than me.”

  The disappointment in the boy’s eyes was almost enough to dissolve any remaining shreds of dignity that King had been clinging to, but he nodded his understanding. “I see. Well, that’s… that’s a pity.”

  “Yes,” King replied, somehow forcing the words out. “A pity.”

  They stood in silence a little longer before King got himself under control again.

  “Go and fetch Susan will you and help her with George and that blasted piglet. Send her up to Livvy as soon as you can. Your aunt needs some help and looking after.”

  With his troops all set upon their various tasks, King did what he did best when it all got too much, and ran away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  16th December 1818.

  The earl’s prickly surprise.

  The next time, Livvy decided, she would be better organised and if King thought he was getting away from her, he would have a fight on his hands. It would be another matter if he didn’t want her, but that clearly wasn’t the issue. It was some nonsense about her virginity and his dreadful past and… oh, good heavens, what did it matter now? She was hardly just o
ut of the schoolroom and being a virgin did not make her innocent. Honestly, she’d helped Ceci give birth, heard a deal of village gossip she probably ought not to have, and had seen the ram servicing the ewes… was she supposed to be deaf, dumb, and blind? Apparently so, but she refused to play the game. Well, with those she cared for, at least. Besides, people had affairs all the time if the scandal sheets were anything to go by, not that they saw many of them at Boscawen as Charlie wouldn’t have them in the house. For a man with a burgeoning family, he was remarkably prudish about such things. Her grandfather’s influence, she supposed. He had been a wonderful man, but he’d always leaned towards the fire and brimstone outlook on life and religion. Though he’d had a very strict moral code that Livvy had admired—up to a point—it hadn’t exactly rubbed off on her. She was far more… realistic. Practical. After all, human beings were what they were and were bound to mess up more often than not, and wasn’t the whole point about loving thy neighbour and not casting the first stone to do with forgiving and accepting people for what they were? Not that she was a sterling example of that either, as she’d judged King at first glance and found him wanting, but she had admitted her mistake.

  Oh, Lord, what a day. She didn’t know what had gotten into her, making such a scene over a stupid silver tray. Except it was an item she had used to calculate how much money they might have if they were forced to sell everything of value and… her chest felt tight again and she forced her mind away from the subject. Not now, Livvy, she told herself. She had promised herself the days until Christmas would be for her, and for the children. They would be merry and bright if it bloody killed her, and King was going to help. He was so wonderful with her nieces and nephews that would be no trouble at all. It was getting him to be wonderful to her which would be trickier, but she would get there. Oh, yes, she would.

  “Thank you for your help, Susan,” Livvy said, giving the girl a kiss on the cheek. She had come to help Livvy dress, giving King the chance to bolt again, of course. “And I’m sorry I made such a silly scene before.”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft. Gelly says it’s a wonder we haven’t all sent you screaming to Bedlam for a bit of peace.”

  Livvy gave a startled little laugh and pulled Susan into a hug. “Sometimes I forget what a grown-up young lady you are becoming.”

  Susan sighed and leaned her head against Livvy. “Not that it will do me any good to grow up. I shan’t have a season, shall I, Livvy? Nor the others.”

  Livvy closed her eyes and held Susan tightly. “I… I don’t think so, Susan. Not unless I marry a kind, rich man.”

  Susan looked up then, her eyes wide. “You won’t marry Mr Skewes, will you? Promise, Livvy.”

  Obviously Livvy hadn’t the slightest intention of marrying the man, but Susan’s request was so surprising she could only stare.

  The girl held her gaze, and gone was any trace of the giggling schoolgirl, replaced by a maturity Livvy had not seen before. “I could never sleep peacefully again, knowing you’d married him to save us. We don’t want you to do it, Livvy.”

  “D-Don’t you like Mr Skewes?” Livvy asked, for none of the children had ever mentioned him one way or the other as far as she knew. She didn’t think they were even aware of the situation, but then in a family like this, secrets were hard to keep for long.

  Susan wrinkled her nose.

  “None of us do! He’s so… ugh. He treats us all like charity cases and… and he keeps patting me on the head like… like a dog!” she said with a burst of indignation.

  Livvy bit her lip, aware that a girl on the cusp of womanhood would not appreciate being treated like a child. Mr Skewes’ particular brand of condescension was enough to make Livvy want to throw things, so why not Susan too.

  “Oh, Susan, you have no idea how it gladdens my heart to know what a sensible girl you are. No, I shall not marry Mr Skewes, well… unless things are very desperate indeed. Even he would be better than the workhouse…I think,” Livvy said, a touch doubtfully.

  “Are things as bad as that?” Susan said, and Livvy cursed herself for her wayward tongue.

  “Oh, no,” she said at once, but Susan’s shrewd gaze stopped her. She took a breath. “No, not so dreadful as that, but the truth is I don’t know how bad. Your father has not told me, but… but I suspect we must leave this house in the New Year. It must be rented out. Hopefully, the income will be enough to keep us and pay off your father’s debts, but….”

  Susan swallowed hard but did not cry. “Will… Will I need to… to go to work?”

  Livvy felt emotion bubbling up in her chest again, threatening to explode in another wretched scene. She forced it back down.

  “No,” she said, her voice firm. “I won’t let that happen. We’re not done yet, Susan.”

  Susan nodded and grasped Livvy’s hand. “I know if anyone can find a way, you can.” She hesitated then. “You could marry King.”

  Livvy smiled and fought back the tears that prickled behind her eyes. “I’m afraid King is no better off than we are, love.”

  “Oh. Well, I’d marry him anyway,” Susan said dreamily. “He’s wonderful.”

  Yes, Livvy thought. He is.

  Having sent Susan off to check Jane had recovered from her fright, Livvy thought she’d best look in on Ceci. She was a tender-hearted creature, and little Jane must have frightened her half to death this morning. Livvy’s heart was still jittering, and she considered herself nigh on unshakeable. She knocked on the door of Ceci’s room and went in, finding Ceci standing and gazing out of the window. Birdie was asleep on the bed, barricaded in with pillows and bolsters so she couldn’t roll off.

  “Adorable,” Livvy said with a sigh, watching the baby sleep.

  Ceci turned and smiled, a wistful expression on her soft features. Livvy frowned, noting Ceci’s eyes were still red.

  “Ceci, is everything all right?”

  Ceci’s lip quivered. “I l-lost the baby, Livvy.”

  Livvy stared at her in shock.

  “Oh, oh, my dear.” She ran to her sister-in-law and hugged her tightly as Ceci clung to her and sobbed. “But when? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Ceci shrugged, pulling away to wipe at her eyes. “Last night, and there didn’t seem any reason to. There was nothing you could do. I wasn’t very far along after all, and it’s hardly the first time it’s happened. There seemed no point in bothering anyone, only… only I wish Charlie had been here.”

  Livvy opened her mouth to say that Ceci ought to have come and fetched her, but then thought better of it. Goodness, what a night it might have been. Perhaps it was an omen, some strange force telling her that King was not to be hers, even for a short while.

  “Livvy,” Ceci said, taking her attention once more. “I feel so guilty.”

  “Why?” Livvy exclaimed in astonishment.

  “B-Because I’m glad. It’s not that I wouldn’t mind more babies, but…. Oh, Livvy, we’re poor, aren’t we?”

  Livvy sighed, looking into Ceci’s frightened eyes. She wrestled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and handed it to her. “Yes, love, I rather think we are.”

  Ceci nodded and wiped her eyes. “Is it my fault? Charlie keeps telling me not to worry but… he keeps going away and he’s s-so changed. He doesn’t sleep.”

  For a moment all Livvy’s old resentments rose in a wave as she looked about the opulent room, but that wasn’t entirely Ceci’s fault.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you for some time, Ceci,” she said, as gently as she could. “But Charlie loves you so much he wants you to be happy. He thinks you’ll leave him if you don’t have pretty things and gifts all the time.”

  “What?” Ceci looked genuinely aghast at the idea.

  “Oh, come now,” Livvy said, a touch impatient. “We all know you could have married the Duke of Hartington.”

  “That fat old man!” Ceci retorted in disgust. “You think that… that I’d rather marry that fat old man and be rich than starve wit
h my darling Charlie?”

  Livvy stared back at her, surprised and gratified by Ceci’s vehemence. The truth was, she had wondered. She knew Ceci loved Charlie, but she was so lethargic about everything that Livvy had questioned how deep the emotion ran. Now she knew. She smiled at Ceci, a genuine, heartfelt smile of affection. “Oh, Ceci, if only you’d told Charlie that before now, but I am so glad to know it’s true.”

  “Well, it is,” she said, putting her chin up and showing a glimmer of steel that Livvy had never seen.

  Livvy nodded and took Ceci’s hands. “Tell Charlie that. Please, Ceci, for I think we may have to leave this place and rent it out. It will be a terrible come down for you, I’m afraid.”

  Ceci’s lip quivered, but she nodded. “M-My clothes… jewellery…?”

  Livvy said nothing, just held her gaze and Ceci nodded again.

  “Be brave, Ceci. We shall find a way.”

  “And… and you really won’t m-marry…?”

  “No!” Livvy said, her voice brooking no argument. “You wouldn’t marry a fat old duke and I won’t marry Mr Skewes.”

  “Oh,” Ceci replied, understanding dawning. She patted Livvy’s hand. “No, dear. In that case, of course you must not marry him.”

  Livvy let out a breath of surprise and hugged Ceci tightly. “Thank you, and I’m so sorry about the baby, but you must not feel guilty. Of course it is heartbreaking, and if it had been born we would all have loved it with our whole hearts, but it would have been hard, Ceci. It’s a weight off all our minds, truth be told, for another mouth to feed now….”

  “Yes,” Ceci said, her voice thready with emotion. “Yes, I know and… and those things you said about… about how to not have… a-another one.”

  Livvy drew back in surprise to see Ceci’s cheeks burning scarlet.

  “I shall speak to Charlie,” Ceci said, clearly embarrassed but determined too.

  For a moment, Livvy only stared in astonishment. Goodness, what a day this was turning out to be. “Well done, Ceci. I’m so proud of you.”