Page 96 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
Oh no. She should’ve known this wasn’t a good idea. She shifted away.
He protested. “Hey, come here.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
“If he’s Camilla’s father, I don’t think knowing me will make any difference.”
“He’s worried that …” He bit off his words.
“That what? We shouldn’t be working together? I suppose that can make things awkward.” Her smile twisted. “It wasn’t pleasant this past week.”
“That won’t happen again,” he promised. “I’m trying to do better at actually saying what I mean rather than stewing on things.”
“I might do a lot of talking, but it doesn’t mean I always know what to say,” she admitted.
“I like how you expressed things before.” He lifted his eyebrows playfully.
He meant by kissing? She laughed. “Come on. Are they worried about me? Worried I might have wrong motives? Please.”
“Exactly. I explained as much to them, that you could hardly have wrong motives if you were willing to work here for no pay.” Now he shifted to face her more fully. “I trust you. I know other women have let me down, but I know you’re different.”
“And I trust you,” she said, returning to the comfort of his arms. “I don’t think I would ever want to be with someone who wasn’t honest.”
Now was the perfect time for him to tell her what had happened in the past. To tell her all the ways she was better than those women who had let him down. To tell her that he could see a future with her.
She waited, but he didn’t seem to want to tell her, more content with stroking her hand, marvelling at her skin, her eyes, her hair, her lips, and soon she found she didn’t really mind at all.
Chapter 21
October slid into November, and with that, Christmas plans were well and truly afoot. The Hall was decorated, the fake trees brought out from storage. Liv had wanted real ones, saying the scent would be heavenly, and Liam was inclined to agree—inclined to do anything she wanted—but Veronica put her foot down, saying pine needles were a mess to clean. So they had brought out the old ones he half remembered from years ago.
The Regency theme meant garlands and ribbons everywhere, piles of nuts and gilded pine cones, the dining table set for a Christmas feast, even though he knew it would only be him and George this year. Unless Liv and her grandmother could join them. Was it too soon to share such an important occasion? She’d mentioned needing to return before the new year, and he’d wondered if she might like him to visit too. Apparently her family were keen to meet him, or so Liv had reported after a recent call home. He’d avoided a video call, not wanting to puncture this bubble of joy he’d found with her with too much reality just yet.
For being with Liv was a joy. She made his heart—his home—glow.
He glanced around the Entrance Hall, lit up with candles, the fireplace smouldering with the remnants from today’s fire. Even on a bleak day like this first Thursday in December, this place felt warm and inviting. And it was all thanks to her.
He followed the others into tonight’s committee meeting, clasping a collection of sweet-scented pine branches as he entered the room. Liv’s eyes caught his and she paused in her conversation with Patricia, her eyebrows lifting, before sending him a private smile that made his breath catch.
“What’s this?” she asked, gesturing to the pine branches.
“Just something I thought you’d enjoy.” He pointed out some of the tiny pine cones. “Aren’t they sweet?”
“I do like a man who calls things sweet,” she murmured as Patricia rolled her eyes.
He ignored Patricia. “And it smells wonderful too, doesn’t it?”
Liv inhaled and smiled. “Very wonderful.”
They might not have real Christmas trees, but at least this would help contribute to the aroma of Regency authenticity. Throughout the house, boughs of greenery lined the mantelpieces, and strung from the ceilings were things called kissing balls. He was a fan of those, even if Liv had occasionally been embarrassed by his enthusiasm.
“Stop.” She’d pushed him away playfully. “Gran is looking.”
“So let her look.” And he’d kiss her and snatch a piece of lavender or mistletoe, as the custom apparently dictated. There were some benefits to acting the part of the Regency gentleman, even if he was not a fan of the tight trousers and breeches George had insisted he needed to wear for the Regency Ball, which was planned for the Saturday before Christmas.
“Youhaveto dress up,” George had pleaded. “You know Liv will expect it.”
