Page 20 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“Oh, never you mind. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Surely the Hall does matter,” Liv objected. “Isn’t it supposed to be open to the public, and provide jobs for the village? I don’t understand why it’s been locked up and let to go to ruin.”
Her grandmother’s uncharacteristic silence drew her gaze. Gran’s lips were pressed together. Then she sighed. “Well, people have to make their own decisions, I suppose. I just wish—” She clamped her mouth shut again.
Poor Gran. Clearly she cared about the Hall and whatever had happened. “We’ll just have to pray that God’s will is done.”
“Yes.”
They passed another section of broken-down wall, and Liv nearly jerked the car off the road as she saw a white-T-shirt–clad Liam heaving large stones onto the wall. Well, the man might have the charm of his dog but obviously possessed muscles he kept hidden under long green shirts. Hefting stones was one way to get a workout.
He noticed them noticing them and gave an unsmiling nod.
Gran inclined her head and gave a regal wave, like she was the queen.
Liv averted her gaze and drove on. She didn’t want to receive another reprimand from him. Although why she cared about his impression of her she didn’t know. Or care to explore.
Especially when someone whom she did care about was about to see that her hedge had been hacked into disarray.
Lord, let Gran be gracious. Help her forgive me and be understanding.
They drove past the school, again with only a handful of children playing outside. Her heart panged. Was the school going to close because there weren’t enough students? Was that because the Hall was shut?Lord, have Your way in this village.
She rounded the corner, into the village proper, her heartbeat escalating in dread. Gran would be upset, and—
“Oh my! What has happened?”
Liv blinked. The hedge, which had looked so terrible when she left this morning, now looked dramatically better. Smooth, rounded, trimmed. Who had done that? She peeked across at Gran, who was smiling.
“I’ve wanted those hedges done for years, but poor Geoffrey my garden man couldn’t keep up. I’ve had that many complaints over the years.” Gran glanced at Liv. “Did you do this?”
“Um …” Liv pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Oh, whoever had done the hedge’s front had trimmed the inside too. Bless them. “I did some weeding and tried to trim the hedges, but my efforts were pitiful compared to that.” It must’ve been Tobias. “I think it was Tobias. He let me borrow his shears.”
“Well, I’ll have to thank him. And thank you, my dear. Some things may not have worked out as I’d hoped, but I’m glad you could come.”
And in that moment, she was too.
Ecstatic barking drew his attention to the door, where his sister was being jumped on by her rascally dog.
“Yes, hello, hello. I’m glad to see you too.” She glanced up, then beamed. “Liam!”
Georgina’s hug took him unawares. She wasn’t normally so affectionate. But considering it had been two whole months since she’d been here, he understood why she might need a hug. They were each other’s only real family now. He didn’t count second cousins or former in-laws as true kin.
His sister pulled back, eyeing him seriously. “You look tired.”
Irritation sparked again. He made a better effort to tamp it down than he had on Monday morning. Poor George didn’t know he was tired from having next to no sleep as he’d tossed and turned, second-guessing his refusal. Of course, as soon as he’d realized just who Veronica Hastings’ granddaughter was he was very glad to have declined. What would a presumptuous, dishevelled person like that know about a place like the Hall? She couldn’t even trim a hedge properly. He shuddered to think what she’d try to do at the Hall. That was the kind of thing done by people who possessed more energy than brains.
“Liam? What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I believe you.” George glanced around the lounge room. He hadn’t had time to do more than a cursory pickup of old papers, so it looked a little university digs-like to him. Or a pigsty. Her eyebrow arched. “Love what you’ve done to the place.”
“There’s been a bit going on,” he grumbled.
She sighed. “There’s always more to do, isn’t there?”
He nodded, glancing away to where a photograph of their parents centred the coffee table. His parents, who never seemed to have the trouble with running the Hall like he remembered. Or like the trustees implied. Every meeting, last night’s included, seemed designed to show Liam his shortcomings, his failings, and to further reiterate that he would be the one to finally let the Hall slip from the family’s fingers. If only there was another way.
