Page 32 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
Her smile faded. “Where is CeeCee?”
She’d meant the dog? Oh. “She’s secured.” Next door in the family area. He hoped.
“I’m sure Liam would be happy to show you the gardens when he has a moment. But right now we need to talk about something more important.” Veronica shot him a look.
He braced himself.
“You said you like history.” George took over. Bossy, as ever.
“Um, yes.”
“And you said you used to work at a National Trust property in Australia.”
“Well, I helped lead tours.”
“And helped with their website, and marketing, or so your mother led me to believe,” Veronica added.
“Well, yes.” Liv’s cheeks pinked. “I had help, of course.” She turned to Marge and Tobias. “My sister, Emma-Jane, is a computer whiz, so she helped me with a lot of the website things. As did another sister, Elinor, who is a graphic designer, so she was great with that and social media too. But I don’t think you want to know all that …”
“On the contrary, that’s very useful information,” Marge said firmly.
“It is? Why?” Liv glanced around.
Nobody spoke for a long time, and he realized it was time for him to speak. To share some truth, even if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—admit the all. At least he hadn’t lied. Yet. “The owner of Hartbury Hall is looking to reopen, and needs someone to volunteer to help reopen it.”
There was a collective indrawn breath as people waited to hear what she might say.
Liv blinked. Glanced around. “You mean me?”
“Of course we mean you, dear,” Veronica said, as Marge, Tobias, and George nodded. “You’re the one who is passionate about history, about old buildings, and you’re here with some time on your hands. We’ve been praying for years for a solution. And then here you are. I can’t help but feel you are meant to be here, for such a time as this.”
“Oh.”
His heart thudded. Emotion tipped and swayed. What would happen if she said yes? If she said no?
Liv bit her lip, her gaze anxious, wondering, then settled her focus on him. “I’m sorry …”
Disappointment akin to that washing over the others’ faces drew across his heart. While part of him hadn’t wanted her to accept, he didn’t think her refusal would be quite so quick.
Liv quickly glanced at her grandmother then back at him. “Forgive me, but why are you asking this?”
“Me?”
“You. You work here, don’t you? You’re the gardener, aren’t you?”
Ah, here was the tricky part.Lord, help me not to lie.He glanced at Veronica, who nodded, as if reminding him about what they’d agreed beforehand. A version of the truth. “I work in the garden, yes,” he said. “But my role is more of a caretaker.” A caretaker for future generations. That was, if there ever were to be future generations. His chest panged.
“Our family has been caretakers here for generations,” George continued, in that easy way she had. “But lately there have been some challenges.”
Liv nodded, cautiously it seemed, her eyes straying to Liam before resting on George again.
Which was good. She was a noticer, intelligent. It wouldn’t take much for her to tumble to the real truth of who the “caretakers” actually were. He’d thanked God as they passed the family portraits that he and his sister both looked more like their mother’s side of the family, rather than the heavily jowled forebears of his father.
“Finances have been difficult, what with repairs and the pandemic affecting the Hall being able to open.” A handy excuse. “That, and other things.”
Other things, like his fiancée leaving him at the altar.
“I can imagine how difficult that must’ve been.” She looked at him. “Were you able to find other work?”
