Newborn Under the Christmas Tree

He turned to share another smile with Alice, doing refreshment duty over by the Christmas tree, only to find that she’d gone. He scanned the room and finally spotted her in the archway that led through to the library, talking with the social worker and Dr Helene—and someone else. Someone he didn’t recognise.

Frowning, he shifted Jamie in his arms and crossed towards them, trying to ignore the heavy, hard feeling growing in his chest.

‘Alice?’ he asked as he grew nearer. ‘Everything okay?’

She spun and looked at him, then at Jamie, her mouth pressed into a tight line and her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked as if her whole world had fallen apart, and any hope that this wasn’t what he thought it was faded. He wanted to take her in his arms, to hold her and Jamie close and never let them go.

God, never. Never let either of them go.

The realisation of what that meant hit him straight in the chest and he almost stumbled backwards at the impact.

He didn’t want Alice to leave. Not because of Jamie, but because he needed her in his life.

Because he loved her. Every bit as much as he loved the tiny boy in his arms.

How had he gone from having no family, no love, to feeling as if his heart and his home were overflowing with them?

And how would he cope with losing them?

‘Alice...’ He started to move towards her—to touch her, to comfort her, anything. But she shook her head.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t...’ And with that, she dashed away, up the stairs, out of his reach.

‘Liam?’ Dr Helene brought his attention back to the pale, thin teenager standing with the social worker. ‘Is there somewhere private we could talk?’

Dazed, Liam nodded. ‘The library. I’ll... I’ll send for some coffee. Or tea.’ He was growing more British by the day. Australia might not even want him back at this point.

Especially as he suddenly didn’t want to go.

He spoke briefly with Heather, who was hovering nearby looking concerned, then led the small group through to the library. The large table in the centre of the room was clear for once, and he moved to take a seat—only to stop when the young girl approached, her gaze fixed on Jamie.

‘You’re his mother, I take it.’ His words came out hard, but Liam didn’t care. Yes, she was young—hardly more than a child herself. But she’d left his boy alone when he was only a few hours old. How could he forgive that?

The girl nodded and raised a finger to touch Jamie’s face, stopping just a few centimetres away before she pulled back. ‘I’m sorry. I—I—’

Tears were streaming down her face, Liam realised. She looked so, so young, so lost, he could almost feel the ice of his anger cracking.

‘Liam, this is Danielle,’ the social worker said, putting an arm around the girl. ‘Danielle, why don’t we take a seat and you can explain everything to Mr Jenkins? Just the way you told it to me.’

The girl nodded and let herself be led to a seat. Liam followed suit and prepared to listen. Maybe not to understand, but he could at least hear her out, he supposed.

It was more than Alice had managed.

The thought tore at his heart, but he pushed it aside. He’d deal with Alice after. First, he needed to fix whatever was trying to tear apart his family from the outside.

‘Tell me,’ he said. And she did.

It took a while, the story punctuated by sobs and outbursts and the tea tray arriving. But it didn’t take long for Liam to get the pertinent points.

Danielle was fifteen. She’d been fourteen when she got pregnant at a party. She didn’t even know who the father was, let alone how to contact him.

The party had been one month after her mother died, leaving her alone with her uncaring, emotionally abusive father. She’d gone out to try and have fun, to drink away her pain and her grief.

And instead she’d ended up pregnant.

‘My mother was a midwife,’ Danielle said. ‘I’d seen home births before, even helped at one, so I knew what to do. But I was so scared...’

‘Why did you leave him here?’ Liam asked.

Danielle wiped at her eyes with another tissue. ‘My mum...she used to bring me here sometimes, before she got sick. When she died, Alice hired me after school sometimes to help her out. I think she knew I needed the money. So I knew Alice was a good person. I mean, I didn’t know her very well, but everyone could see that. I knew my baby would be safe with her.’

‘But you didn’t know me at all,’ Liam pointed out. ‘Why put my name on that note too?’ Nobody in their right mind would leave him in charge of a child. But Danielle had been desperate. Maybe that was all it was.

She looked up and met his gaze. ‘Thornwood Castle is yours. And Mum always said the lord at Thornwood took care of us, down in the village. She used to tell me stories about her grandma and granddad. They worked at the castle, you see. They were butler and housekeeper. When they got married, the old Lady at Thornwood gave them the cottage in the woods, and that’s where they lived until they died. I know things are different these days, and I’m not expecting anything from you, I promise. I just... I hoped that you would feel that too. That you’d look after Jamie, and give him the life I couldn’t.’

The butler. The same butler who’d looked down on him so many years ago? Maybe. It didn’t matter now, Liam realised. None of it did.

Danielle had wanted what was best for her baby, and she’d trusted them to give it to him. It was a stupid, crazy move—one that had to be born out of desperation rather than logic.

And, in the weirdest of ways, she’d been right.

‘But now you’ve come back for him,’ Liam replied. That was the part that stung the most.

Danielle shook her head. ‘I can’t look after him. My dad... I won’t bring him up there in that house. I won’t let him go through what me and Mum went through.’

‘We’ve found a place for Danielle,’ the social worker put in. ‘We’re working to help her get herself back on her feet, away from her father’s influence. But Jamie...’

‘He’ll go up for adoption,’ Liam guessed, and the social worker nodded.

Suddenly, everything was clear. Crystal clarity, with all doubt swept away. No fear, no uncertainty.

Liam knew exactly what he needed to do. It was no longer a pipe dream, a scheme with no plan behind it. It was his future. His and Alice’s and Jamie’s.

It was meant to be.

‘Let me adopt him. I’ll make him my heir. Thornwood will be his one day. And he will be my son, I swear to you, in every way that matters. He’ll be loved, he’ll have a home and he’ll have a family.’ Everything Liam had never had, he would give to Jamie. And he’d do it with Alice by his side, showing both of them every day just how much he loved and cherished them.

Liam knew it would be the best thing he ever did in this world.

* * *

Alice grabbed another handful of clothes from the drawers by the daybed and shoved them into her suitcase. How had so much of her stuff ended up in Liam’s room, anyway? This had only ever been temporary, but from her packing it looked as if she’d moved in.

And now she was moving out again. Out of his rooms, out of Thornwood, out of his life. Out of Jamie’s life.

It was for the best, she reminded herself. Jamie would be back with his mother, Liam could get on with his plans for Thornwood, and Heather was more than capable of taking over Alice’s work. It was time for her to move on, to find a new start somewhere else.

This had only ever been an impossible dream, and she’d known that from the start.

So why did her heart ache so much?

‘Alice!’ Liam burst into the suite, his eyes alight and his smile broad—until he saw her suitcase. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Packing.’

She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t.

It was time to move on.

‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘You’re running again, aren’t you? Even now. Why?’

‘Jamie is going back to his mother. You’ve got your work to get on with. It’s time for me to look for something new too.’ She kept her voice steady. She was rather proud of that.

‘Danielle is giving him up. I’ve asked to be considered to adopt him, and Danielle has agreed. The social worker thinks we have a strong case. Alice—’ He reached out and pulled her clothes from her hands. ‘Stop it. I’m telling you it’s going to be okay.’

It’s going to be okay. It’s different this time. It won’t happen again.

How many times had she heard those words? How many times had she believed them?

And yes, this was different. And yes, that small bubble of hope was growing again.

But Alice stamped it down. She knew too well how many ways things could go wrong. The only way to avoid being hurt when everything you loved was torn away was by not loving in the first place.