Page 4 of Three Weeks with a Princess
She waved a vague hand. “Oh, these are just one of my older pairs. I didn’t want to ruin the good ones in the snow.”
His snort indicated how little he believed that Banbury tale, but Lia chose not to argue. Money had been a bit scarcer of late, although she wasn’t sure why. Lord Lendale provided Granny and her with whatever they needed. But he’d recently been forgetful, neglecting details like new boots for her or Granny’s favorite gunpowder tea, sent special from London.
Far worse, he’d neglected repairs to their increasingly leaky roof, which was certainly not a luxury.
“I’ll speak to my uncle,” Jack said. “He’ll see to it that you get a new pair.”
She shot upright in her seat. “No, please don’t.”
“Don’t be silly, Lia.”
“Jack, I’m serious. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Whyever not? Uncle Arthur would be very unhappy to know you’re going about with wet feet.”
“Because Granny hates fussing at Lord Lendale, that’s why. Or make him feel guilty, which is even worse. He’s been so good to us, and we have absolutely no right to complain.”
Because his back was to the fire, Jack’s face was mostly in shadow. But Lia could see the annoyed set to his shoulders. “Jack, please let it go, for my sake.”
“He should take better care of you,” he replied in a hard voice.
“Lord Lendale takes excellent care of us, I assure you.” She patted the arm of the chair next to her. “Please sit down, at least for a minute. You’re like some giant looming over me. I feel quite intimidated.”
“That’s a laugh,” he said, sitting down. “Listen to me, Lia. I’m taking you into the village before I leave and buying you a new pair of boots.” He cut off her objections with an imperious hand. “Think of it as my Christmas present to you.”
Jack was loyal to a fault, and she knew he worried about her and her grandmother. More than anyone, he understood their precarious position as dependents on Lord Lendale’s support. Lia had formed the impression over the years that Jack didn’t think his uncle had treated Rebecca Kincaid as well as he should. She half agreed with that opinion, although it seemed utterly disloyal to the man who’d, in many ways, stood in as a father to her.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “But that would be much too generous.”
“I can’t go waltzing off to the Peninsula knowing you’re freezing your feet off up here in Yorkshire. I’d worry so much about you that I’d likely fall into a horrible decline.”
She laughed. “Now you’re just being silly.”
He turned his head to smile at her. “I am, but you should know that I’d already planned to take you shopping for a present before I left for London.”
She ignored the stab of pain that pierced her whenever she thought of him going so far away. “I’ve got a Christmas present for you, too.”
“Pet, that was sweet of you, but I don’t want you spending money on me.” His deep voice curled around her, bringing warmth and peace.
“Then you’ll be happy to know I didn’t spend a farthing,” she replied with a cheeky grin.
He snorted. “Brat. What did you get me?”
She fished under her pelisse and extracted a square of fabric from the inside pocket of her gown. Carefully, she unfolded it to show him the small object contained within.
“Good Lord,” he breathed as he took it from her. “Where did you find it?”
“At the ruins of the abbey outside Ripon. Your uncle took Granny and me there last August.”
While her grandmother and his lordship had sat on a blanket, talking softly and making sheep’s eyes at each other, Lia had gone off exploring the ruins. It had been the luckiest chance when, climbing over a tumbledown wall, her foot had slipped, sending her down on her bottom into the grass. She hadn’t hurt herself, but she had dislodged some of the crumbling stone. Lying in the dirt beside her had been an old Roman coin.
Lia had known instantly what she would do with her find. Jack had a passion for history and had spent many a holiday rummaging around various ruins. Roman, Saxon, Norman: He loved them all. Granny had even allowed Lia to go with him a few times, once to the very ruins where she’d found the coin.
“That’s where I took you when you were just a little girl,” he said as he held the coin up to the light.
“Not so little,” she protested.
“You were only nine,” he said with a wry smile.
