Free Home for the Holidays by Johanna Lindsey

their parents.”
    It was probably her surprise that made him chuckle. “You’ve led a sheltered life, Larissa. You’ve never known anyone to not have a Christmas tree either. Shall I tell you how easy it is for both to occur?”
    She should have said no. Knowing more about him was not going to be good for her peace of mind, she was sure …
    “Yes.”
    He finished off his own wine before he began. “I grew up on the family estate in Lincolnshire, which I haven’t been back to since my parents died.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I have nothing but feelings of inadequacy there, and the memories that caused them.”
    She changed her mind abruptly. “You don’t have to delve into those memories—”
    “It’s quite all right,” he interrupted. “Believe me, those feelings are gone. In fact, I have no feelings remaining at all, where my parents are concerned. They were social butterflies. They did their duty in producing the required heir, myself, then proceeded to ignore me. I was turned over to servants to raise. Quite a normal occurrence, in the
ton.”
    That was true, she supposed, though not as frequent as his “normal” implied. Nor did it explain why he had hated his parents, but she didn’t need to point that out, because he continued.
    “My brother, Albert, came along a few years after me, unplanned, unwanted really, and turned over to the servants as well. Consistent of them, so I didn’t realize yet that my parents simply didn’t like children, at least had no time to share with them. They were never at home, after all, so neither of us was actually ignored, it was more like we were—forgotten. I even became close to Albert briefly, before they took him away.”
    “Away?”
    “With them. You see, by his fourth year, he became the ‘court jester.’ It’s how I’ve always thought of him. He went out of his way to amuse people—and succeeded. He was quite good at it. While I, on the other hand, had no suchqualities. I was too serious, too reserved. If I ever laughed as a child, I don’t remember it.
    “On one of my parents’ rare visits, they discovered this. They had brought home guests. Albert managed to make most of these guests laugh. He was entertaining. My parents suddenly found him of value in their socializing, and worth spending time with, so of course, he must travel with them.”
    “But not you,” she said in a quiet tone, not a question, an obvious summation.
    “No, certainly, I was the heir and already being tutored. And I wasn’t amusing. But they did finally bring Albert home, when he had to begin his own schooling. And they came to visit much more often, stayed for months at a time now. They missed Albert, after all. And when he wasn’t in school, they took him off again with them.”
    “On holidays,” she guessed, holidays like Christmas.
    “Yes.”
    Larissa felt like crying—for him. He had said it all matter-of-factly. It meant nothing to him now. But dear Lord, it must have bothered him as a child, when his brother was lavished with attention, and he was given none. Inadequate, he had mentioned. Yes, he would have felt that, would have felt left out, unloved, unwanted …
    She cried anyway, couldn’t stop it despite trying to, silent tears, at least, that she was able to quickly swipeaway before he noticed—or he was pretending not to notice. He probably hadn’t liked having to offer comfort to her that afternoon, and didn’t want to have to do so again. He wouldn’t attribute her tears to anything to do with him, thankfully. Why would he, when they barely knew each other? He’d think she was thinking of her father again—if he even noticed the new tears.
    Stupid, stupid emotions, to have her crying like a ninny so frequently these days. But she felt so sorry for Lord Everett, to have had such a horrid childhood, such a cold and unloving family.
    He must hate his brother, too, if he was still living. He’d said their closeness had only been brief. And that left