Page 105 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
And she clutched her grandmother’s arm and hurried away.
Chapter 23
Christmas in Australia seemed light-years away from Hartbury Hall. No snow lay on the ground. There was no point roasting chestnuts on an open fire, not when there was a total fire ban. She’d decided she didn’t like chestnuts anyway. Cashews or macadamias were much tastier. And although the summer weather was ice cream–melting hot, the internal shivers since Gran had passed on EJ’s message hadn’t abated.
No amount of custard could fix this. Dad had suffered a heart attack. EJ, Elinor, and Katie had all tried to call, and EJ had finally messaged, but Liv’s phone had been switched off, thanks to the ball.
She rubbed a hand over tear-blurred eyes. The ball. The stupid Regency Christmas Ball. Not even Felicia and Doreen’s deception had made her feel like such a fool.
How could she have been sucked into believing everyone there? Was everything Liam said a lie? Was she really so gullible? Nausea sloshed within. How could she have been so stupid?
In a way, she was thankful for EJ’s message that had hastened her escape: “Dad has had a heart attack. You need to come home now.”
As soon as she’d returned to Gran’s, she called EJ and had been warned not to call their mother, who apparently was not doing well at all. “I’m at the hospital,” EJ had said, “and she’s finally getting some sleep. It’s been a huge few hours.”
“Will he be okay?”
“The doctors are hopeful, but I think it would relieve everyone’s minds if you returned as soon as possible.”
“Of course. I’ll get the first flight out.”
Between them, they’d organized to rebook Liv’s ticket, via China, so now she was back home in Wattle Vale. Her family had been as astounded by her speedy arrival as Gran had been when Liv got off the phone with EJ to learn Liv already had a plane ticket and was packing her bag to get to Heathrow immediately.
“But what about your laptop at the Hall?” Gran had protested.
“I don’t care. Dad and Mum need me.” Besides, she’d saved most things to the cloud and could access it that way, even if it meant she’d need to buy a new laptop. Happy Christmas to her. Maybe she could buy one in the New Year sales. Or EJ had a spare one she could pass down. Which was exactly the way she wanted to live her life at nearly thirty, using her younger sister’s castoffs because she couldn’t afford her own, because she’d spent the past six months feeling sorry for someone and giving up her time and working forfree.She was the biggest fool on the planet. Emotion pricked again.
“Liv? Are you ready yet?” Elinor called.
Ready for church on Christmas Day? No. Ready to stop these tears? Yes.
They arrived at their church, the 9:00 a.m. service as she’d always known. Except not without her parents. They’d see Dad after this, and Mum, who had gone over to the hospital early.
Thank heavens there hadn’t been time to talk about what had happened to Liv. This wasn’t about her. But about Dad. Family. Love.
Her heart buckled, and tears heated her eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Katie rubbed Liv’s back. Oh, she was tired. Jet lag induced by a series of flights that took a whole day had a lot to answer for.
She was welcomed back by congregation members she’d known her whole life. Jordan Knight stood with his parents, Graham and Meg. David Hocking, an elderly prayer warrior she’d regarded as her grandfather all her life, assured her he was praying for her dad.
“Thank you.”
She glimpsed Doreen—here for her only visit to church all year, no doubt—but turned away, her heart hardening against another deceiver in her life. How gullible was she to believe people all the time?
She went through the motions, sang songs declaring joy to the world, but inside felt little joy. Yes, the birth of Jesus did mean joy, did bring comfort and peace, but it was like her heart was operating on a different plane to her brain. She was like an automaton, a shell of herself, who knew the correct things to say and do and how to fake a smile, but inside she was so torn and hurt she’d grown numb.
Dad might be okay—or so the doctors had assured last night—but inside grief had grooved deep. How could she have given her heart to someone who had lied? How had Gran never owned the truth either? In some ways it was flattering that they obviously wanted her to stay; in another it was insulting the way she’d been so easily scammed.
“‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ Jesus came that we might have new life. That we would know forgiveness and walk in freedom.”
The minister continued, but her heart had snagged on that last phrase. How could she call herself a Christian and keep holding unforgiveness in her heart towards Gran, Liam, and the others? They’d even said they’d told her—Gran and George had been adamant Liv had been told—and now that she’d had time to reflect, maybe she had only imagined the widower being portly and older, rather than the man she’d first known as the gardener. Which meant Liam wasn’t fully to blame. Her overactive imagination had run away and created a false scenario. Which meant it was a huge overreaction. Which made her feel worse.Oh Lord, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
Prayer time followed, and she wiped away silent tears, inexplicably glad Liam couldn’t see her now.
The service concluded, and she was glad to find a measure of calm before having to do the meet and greet again. Including Doreen. Whom God loved, even if Liv could never trust her. “Happy Christmas, Doreen,” she managed … and even meant it. Mostly.
Doreen echoed it, her smile small, tentative. “I heard you’d gone to England. That must’ve been wonderful.”
