Page 2 of A Libertine's Christmas Miracle
Chapter Two
Pengarron, Cornwall, 23 December 1825
“Mama Alice, canI give Twinkle a sweetmeat?”
Alice Trelawney looked down at her stepdaughter’s upturned face. The little girl’s eyes, so like her father’s, shone with eagerness.
“I think five sweetmeats are enough for one day, Amelia,” she replied. “Twinkle is getting overweight. I swear she’s nearly doubled in size since we left London.”
“But Mama!” Amelia protested.
“Your mother is right,” a deep voice said. Alice’s husband crossed the floor and stroked the little dog’s fur. Then he smiled at Alice with the expression of love which always melted her heart.
“Twinkle will learn to expect, rather than appreciate, the treats you give her if she has too many, Amelia,” he continued. “Besides, you want to make sure there’s plenty left for Georgia when she comes, don’t you? Mrs. Bascomb will have enough to do in the kitchen with a full house of guests. She won’t be happy if you give too many of her sweetmeats to your dog.”
“I suppose.” Amelia stroked the little dog’s fur and sighed. “But I love Twinkle so much.”
“I know you do, my darling,” Alice said. “I love her too, for she looks just like my Monty. But sometimes, loving someone means denying them what they want, because you know it’s for the best. Do you remember what I told you about giving Twinkle what she needed, not what she wanted?”
Amelia sighed, placed the dog in the basket at her feet and covered her with a blanket. The pug gave a grunt of satisfaction and curled up. Shortly after, snores could be heard from beneath the blanket.
Alice settled back in her seat and placed a hand over her belly. Almost at once, Ross was at her side, concern in his gray eyes. “Is all well, my love?” he asked.
“Of course,” Alice said. “My confinement is at least a month away. My feet are a little sore, that’s all.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have gone out walking with Amelia so soon after we arrived yesterday,” Ross said.
“The Cornish air does me good,” Alice replied, “and I was in need of fresh air after spending all day cooped up in the carriage. Honestly Ross, you’re as bad as Miss Whitworth, scolding me as if I were a wayward toddler.”
“Perhaps I should ask her to beyournursemaid as well as little Harry’s,” Ross said, a mischievous grin on his face, “though I’d have to pay her double, for our son’s inherited his stubbornness from his mother.”
Alice smiled to herself. Ross was the most loving and attentive husband any woman could wish for, but he had an annoying habit of ordering her about when he was concerned for her wellbeing. She held out her hand and he took it, lifting it to his lips for a kiss.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know,” she replied. “But you needn’t worry. Amelia and I didn’t go far. We turned round near the gates to Boscarne House.”
Ross’s expression darkened. “I’d advise you not to venture too close to that estate,” he said. “The owner, Mr. Scrimgeour, isn’t known for congeniality.”
“Oh?” Alice sat up, her husband’s change of expression having piqued her interest.
“He doesn’t welcome visitors,” Ross said.
“Perhaps he’s just particular about the company he keeps,” Alice replied. “I should pay him a visit. After all, we are neighbors.”
Ross shook his head. “I wouldn’t, my love. He dismissed the staff on arrival and he’s let the building fall into disrepair around him. There’s been reports of strange sounds coming from the house at night.”
“What strange sounds?”
Ross shrugged his shoulders. “Shouting, wailing, that sort of thing. I’ve even heard tales of a ghost. Stories borne of gossip, most likely. You know what villagers are like. Nevertheless, I’d consider it a favor if you didn’t go near there. I’ve forbidden the servants to venture too close.” He turned to Amelia. “That applies to you also, young lady. You’re old enough to understand when something is forbidden, and old enough to take responsibility for your mama if she’s tempted to flout my request. You remember what you promised me?”
“Yes, Papa,” Amelia said.
“What did you promise your papa?” Alice asked.
Father and daughter exchanged glances, then Amelia puffed out her chest, as if in pride. “I promised to take care of you.”
“I’m pregnant,” Alice said, “not an invalid.”
