Yuletide Treasure Read Online Free PDF Page A

equally qualified to fill that need. The two times she visited the schoolhouse, the children clustered around her like eager cubs. She’s a fine instructor, and a caring one. My students will thrive beneath her guidance. Whereas Noelle …” Brigitte’s voice quavered, emotion surging inside her like a great, untamed wave. “You’ve always said that when a person’s life is at its bleakest is the time when God’s hope shines through. Perhaps now is that time, for both the earl and Noelle. Perhaps God is offering me this opportunity to bring joy back into their lives, to help make them a family. And maybe, just maybe, to open Lord Farrington’s heart to love. Noelle needs him so badly. You and I both realize that beneath her sassy, devilish facade she’s no more than a forsaken child.”
    â€œTrue. But is the earl capable of offering her that which she needs? Can a heart as cold as his learn to love?”
    â€œLord Farrington’s heart needs to be reawakened, not taught. Think, Grandfather. Remember the stories you told me—about how the earl saw to Liza’s upbringing?”
    Staring off, the vicar’s thoughts traveled back more than two decades. “That was a lifetime ago, but yes,” he murmured. “Liza was a babe, the earl scarcely in his teens, when their parents were lost at sea. Lord Farrington refused to give Liza up to the countless families who offered to raise her. With the help of his servants, he himself provided her with care, education …”
    â€œAnd love,” Brigitte finished. “Even I recall that—not from the onset obviously, since Liza was two years mysenior—but from the time she was about six or seven. She and Lord Farrington attended church weekly, arriving just before your service began. Oh, how eagerly I’d await their carriage. I’d watch them alight—a beautiful princess and her guardian, straight from the pages of a fairy tale. Lord Farrington was everything a princess could dream of: protective, devoted—and so handsome it was hard not to stare. His smile—I remember that most of all. It would begin at his eyes, then travel to his mouth. It was so dazzling it could melt the winter’s snow.” A reminiscent light dawned in Brigitte’s eyes. “Every year during your Christmas service he would slip a gift into Liza’s coat pocket, undetected. It wasn’t until they were leaving the church that she’d find it. Then she’d squeal and hug him, and he’d break into that wonderful rumbling laughter …” Brigitte’s voice faltered.
    The vicar cupped her chin, raising her face to meet his gaze. “Your preoccupation with the earl began earlier than I realized.”
    â€œI suppose it did. But, preoccupied or not, what I beheld was fact, not sentiment. Lord Farrington was an exemplary brother. He doted on Liza. A man like that doesn’t need to be taught to care.”
    â€œBrigitte,” the vicar said quietly, “all that altered near the end. The earl changed after he lost his fortune; he became angry, bitter. His transformation must have been dreadful—and I’m not only referring to his physical transformation, although that alone was intimidating enough. But his unkempt hair and unshaven face were eclipsed by the hollow darkness in his eyes, his soul. How many times did we hear of his torrents? The way he cast the manor in darkness, permeated with silence, but for his terrifying fits of rage? ’Tis no wonder that less than two months later Liza ran off.”
    â€œIf she was so afraid of her brother, why did she return?” Brigitte demanded.
    â€œShe was alone and with child. She had nowhere else to turn. So she sought refuge at Farrington, where she gave birth to Noelle on Christmas Day. Again, according to the servants, the weeks that followed were torturous. Torturous and violent.”
    â€œLiza died abroad,