by Lauren Smith
Brendan looked hopefully toward Simon. “Can I go now?”
Simon grinned and jerked his head at the boy to indicate he was free to leave. Brendan took off running down the hall.
“To be that young again,” Alec chuckled.
Simon smiled warmly in agreement as he watched the boy vanish down the stairs. Then he called into the room behind him, “Bridget, Alec’s here.”
Alec had only met Bridget once, a year ago when he had some free time while in New York. They’d come in from Rhode Island to meet him.
Bridget joined Simon at the door and embraced him in a warm hug. “Alec!”
“You keeping him in line?” Alec asked her.
“Trying.” Bridget laughed. “Did you see your parents yet? I’m afraid we’ve all heard about the emergency landing by now.”
“Thank God you’re not calling it a crash. Everyone else is acting like I rose from the ashes like a phoenix,” Alec muttered.
“Well, it’s a scary thing. Bridget just got off the phone with her friend. She was on your flight, too. Maybe you met her? Brie Honeyweather? She’s going to work on your mum’s holiday book.”
“I…did meet her, actually. I had no idea she was working with mum. I only knew she was a writer.”
“Is she okay? Brie is terrified of flying. She sounded calm on the phone just now, but she sometimes holds her anxiety inside until it gets to be too much and explodes.”
“She was shaken, but we had the night to calm down.” Alec assured Bridget. “The passengers were taken to local village homes close to where we landed. She was fine.” So, Brie was Bridget’s friend and he was Simon’s. To think that their two different paths had been on a slow moving collision course this whole time was unnerving.
“What a relief,” Bridget sighed. “I want her to be relaxed when she meets the countess.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “I’ve been talking to your mum and we both think she and Morgan might be a good fit.”
“Morgan?” Alec choked on his brother’s name. “Fit for what?”
“To date, naturally.” Bridget grinned, and Alec could see why Simon fell for her. She was gorgeous, inside and out. But for that one moment, he didn’t like her one bit. Morgan and Brie? No, absolutely not. They wouldn’t get along at all.
“Morgan is so fun and charming. Brie needs that after her divorce,” Bridget explained.
“Divorce?” Alec’s breath tightened. She hadn’t mentioned an ex-husband, not that it should matter. That’s why they were an ex in the first place. They didn’t owe each other dating histories. Still, he was glad she hadn’t told him.
“Brie doesn’t like to talk about it. She got married young, like twenty-something, to her college sweetheart. And they got divorced at twenty-four. It’s been five years and she still hasn’t opened her heart up. I really think Morgan can show her how fun romance can be again.”
“I don’t think Morgan is a good choice,” Alec said with his best poker face.
“Don’t be silly. He’s perfect. I’m not saying she should marry him, but he’d be good for her. Remind her not to give up looking for Mr. Right.” Bridget retrieved her coat from the bed and kissed Simon’s cheek. “I should go make sure Brendan doesn’t bother the groundskeeper.”
The moment Alec and Simon were alone, Simon crossed his arms and grinned.
“What?” Alec growled.
“You…you met Brie and you like her.”
“I did meet Brie, and she’s tolerable.”
“Methinks you doth protest too much. You don’t want her to date Morgan. That means you want to.”
“I don’t,” Alec insisted, despite the bitter taste of the lie upon his tongue. “I just don’t wish the fate of dating Morgan upon any poor woman. You know what he’s like. He’ll charm them into falling in love with him, and then walk away and break their hearts. He’s not like me. The women I’ve hooked up with know going in that there’s no expectation of relationship or love.”
Simon slapped his shoulder. “You know…you’ve never worried about any of the other ladies Morgan’s dated before. Why is this woman different?”
“She isn’t,” Alec could hear the lie as clearly as Simon could.
His friend chuckled wryly. “You can’t lie to yourself forever. When she gets here, you’d better make a move, or your mum will be planning a wedding to Morgan before Brie goes back home.”
Alex’s hands curled into fists as they headed down the stairs for tea, but he vowed not to get involved. Maybe Bridget was right. Maybe Morgan would be good for her if she was just trying to get back on her feet dating-wise. If Brie liked Morgan, that was her business.
Wasn’t it?
6
Brie hugged Mrs. Fellers goodbye after the older lady extracted a promise from her to stay in touch. As she slid into the back seat of the SUV sent for her by the Countess of Merryvale, she realized she was sad to leave the smiling, waving, older lady. But as the little cottage vanished from view, she settled back and tried to relax. Tried.
In reality, Brie spent the two-hour drive staring out of the window, a slight frown on her forehead as she became increasingly lost in thoughts of Alec, and what had happened the night before.
She kept remembering the way he’d taken away the fear and uncertainty she felt from the plane crash. She’d been lost in passion, lost in him, and it had been amazing—life altering. He’d been gentle and strong at all the right times. He’d mastered her body with ease, yet she hadn’t felt used or cheap. She’d felt valued and cherished with every kiss. She’d liked the hint of his playful dominating side, too. She flushed even now just thinking about it.
Her fingertips brushed over his business card. She hadn’t even looked at it. She’d just tucked it into her coat pocket and left it there. The temptation to text him was strong, but that wouldn’t be wise. Long distance relationships with a workaholic didn’t last. It had been the final nail in the coffin for her and Preston’s marriage.
She’d woken one day and realized she hadn’t missed him at all after he’d moved to Manhattan for a better job. She was supposed to be packing up their house and prepare it for selling so she could move into their new apartment with him. But that morning, when she’d rolled over in bed and her hand fell against the bare pillow beside her, she hadn’t felt empty. Hadn’t felt…anything. She’d gone on about her day and it wasn’t until lunch time when she realized she hadn’t thought of Preston, not even once.
When they’d first dated, there had been such an intensity to everything—every look, every touch, every kiss. Even their text messages had been full of fire and life. But after four years, things had gone cold. They didn’t fight, but maybe that was the problem. Neither of them had cared enough to fight about anything anymore.
She’d come to believe that maybe love didn’t exist in the way she’d always thought of as a girl. Lust faded over time. Passion burned out. So, what was left? Would anything ever be left for her with another man? Was she doomed never to know what others seemed to when it came to happy relationships?
You won’t see him again. Everything will be fine. You’ll go back to Rhode Island and forget everything.
But she wouldn’t forget.
As the SUV’s tires ground over a snowy gravel drive, Brie glimpsed the tall proud edifice of Merryvale Court. The snow clouds had vanished, allowing bright winter sun to reflect off the white lawns.
“We’re here,” the driver announced, looking at Brie in the rearview mirror.
“It’s beautiful,” Brie said as the car stopped in the driveway.
“If you love it now, just wait till the spring. Everything is full of color then.”
Brie removed a small notebook from her purse and began jotting down notes about the building’s high silhouette on the sloping hill and the way a wooded path around the left of the house seemed to be guarded by the tallest cedar trees she’d ever seen.
The things those trees must have seen. She could imagine them two hundred years before, the trees’ trun
ks thin, their stature small. Children’s hands running about the trunks as they played games. The call of a horn and the thrill of a fox hunt…
A hundred years ago, the convalescing soldiers from the Great War would have looked upon their green boughs and dreamt of the days before trenches and the fog of war.
These trees had witnessed history. They had lived through night bombings and sweltering summers to the bitterest dry winters. They were a testament to the house and the family who lived within. What would these trees witness in the centuries to come?
The tall walnut wood front doors of Merryvale Court opened, and a couple emerged. Brie assumed it was the Earl of Merryvale and his wife. The Earl, Byron Halston, was over six feet tall, with dark hair and soft brown eyes. He was handsome and refined, but his smile promised warmth and kindness. Julia, Brie’s official client, was a golden-haired beauty, tall and slender with glowing, ageless skin. There was something about her that tugged at Brie’s memory.
“Brie, my dear.” Julia separated from Byron to embrace her as though they were already old friends.
“It’s so nice to meet you in person.” Brie tried not to gush in excitement.
“I feel the same. Byron, come join us.” She waved her husband over.
“My lord,” Brie nodded, feeling like she should curtsy.
“Byron, please,” he corrected. “We aren’t too terribly formal these days, are we?” He gave his wife an almost bashful grin.
“Only during certain social engagements,” Julia laughed and linked her arm through Brie’s. “Come inside and let me show you around. Then we’ll have tea.”
Brie stepped into the Court’s entry hall and gasped. Glowing garlands decorated with silver, red, and green ornaments draped the rails of the grand staircase. A massive Christmas tree was in the room just beyond.
“That’s the salon. It’s the largest and tallest room,” Julia explained. Brie tipped her head back to stare up at the massive and perfectly-decorated tree.
Candles were scattered throughout the house and clusters of poinsettias graced various tables. Holly trimmed the tops of every doorway. It was an indoor winter wonderland. Brief half expected to see it start snowing inside, such was the magic of this place.
“This is so beautiful. Do you mind if I take a few pictures? I don’t want to miss any details.”
“Not at all.” Julia looked proudly around the salon.
Brie dug her phone out of her purse and started taking pictures.
“Look out!” someone yelled. A moment later, a herd of panting beasts rushed into the room. Brie’s legs were knocked out from under her. She waved her arms wildly as she gasped and started to fall, only to stop in mid-air. A pair of strong arms had caught her and helped get her standing straight. She turned to thank whoever had caught her and gasped.
“Well, hello there.” He grinned and her knees wobbled.
It was another devilishly handsome British man. What is in the water here?
“Hi,” Brie murmured in a daze at the brilliance of his charming smile.
“Oh heavens, Morgan, don’t let the dogs do that!” Julia exclaimed.
“Morgan? You’re Julia’s son?”
“Yes.” Morgan smiled as her stomach flipped. He smiled like Alec did.
God, I do have a type. Sexy British blond men with gorgeous smiles.
“I’m Brie.”
“It’s lovely to meet you.” Now that she was steady, he bent to ruffle the furry heads of the three dogs bouncing around at their feet. He was tall and had the same burnished gold hair as his mother yet his face favored his father. He wore a dark maroon cable knit sweater, gray trousers, and black boots. Again, she was struck with that odd sense of familiarity from this complete stranger which made no sense at all.
“Sorry about the mutts,” Morgan teased as he squished up the Bulldog’s face. “This is Yogi.” The bulldog licked its nose and sniffled, his stump of a tail wiggling.
“Yogi? Like a yoga teacher?”
“Like the bear from the American cartoons. He eats everything and he will steal your pic-i-nic basket.” Morgan turned to the tall, but dainty, black lab. “This is Pepper. She is the lady of the house. My father expected her to be a hunting dog, but she found her way into their bed one night and he couldn’t find it in his heart to keep her with the other hunting hounds.”
“And this one?” Brie knelt and patted the head of the chocolate-colored spaniel.
“Copper. He’s the general, keeping everyone in line, or tries to.” Morgan stroked Copper’s ears and then looked up at her. “Do you like dogs, Brie?”
“I love them. I never really had one when I was younger. My ex-husband was allergic and after we divorced, I just sort of forgot I could get one, you know?”
It was odd. This was the first time she really talked about Preston to a stranger. Maybe it was because Morgan made her think of Alec and all the things she wanted to whisper deep into the night, the secrets she’d wanted to unbury and let go of. But there hadn’t been time and she hadn’t been brave enough. Still, she wondered if perhaps her chance meeting with Alec had opened her up to the possibility of letting her guard down around men again. Maybe that was why talking to Morgan was easier than she’d expected.
“They’re really sweet.” She patted the bulldog before the trio of dogs sprinted off across the salon and out a door on the opposite end as if summoned by an invisible master.
“So, you ready to help mum write her book?” Morgan asked.
“Not yet. I need to sit down with her and write out all the traditions, anecdotes, family stories, and recipes.”
Morgan’s warm eyes twinkled. “You have met my mum, right? The woman doesn’t know how to sit still for more than five minutes. She’ll drag you from here to sundry and back in half an hour.”
Morgan’s head shifted, looking at something above and behind her.
“Ah, there you are. Been wondering if you’d ever come down.” Morgan turned to Brie and winked. “Care to meet the black sheep of our family?”
“Black sheep?” Brie was curious to see who Morgan was talking about. She turned, only to have the wind knocked out from her lungs.
“This is my older brother, Alec. Workaholic. Holiday hater. Only begrudgingly spends time with his beloved family. The rest of us Halstons adore family and the holidays. Ergo, he’s the black sheep.”
He was here. At Merryvale court. Standing just a few feet away from her.
Oh. My. God.
Alec was a Halston. Alec was Julia’s eldest child…
I just slept with my client’s son.
“Alec, this is mum’s ghostwriter, Brie Honeyweather.”
“We’ve met.” Alec’s hazel eyes were locked on Brie. She felt trapped…or maybe a little transfixed. But she couldn’t move as he came toward her and held out his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Honeyweather.”
“Y-you too,” she replied, placing her hand in his. It felt like a lifetime ago that they’d parted ways, but it had only been a few hours. She realized instantly that she’d missed him. Was it even possible to miss a stranger?
“Hold on a moment, you’ve met?” Morgan pushed his way between them. “How?”
“We flew together from New York and London, then London to Manchester.”
Morgan’s face went pale. “So, she was on the plane when…?”
“What?” Julia had returned to them just in time to hear their conversation. “Brie was on the plane that crashed? I thought you told me your flight was canceled?”
Brie’s face flamed. “I didn’t want you to worry. I was fine, really.”
Julia looked horrified. “You could’ve died! You need a cup of tea, right now. We can do the tour later.” Julia gently dragged her away from the brothers who were whispering to each other as Brie and Julia left the salon.
“To think what could’ve happened,” Julia muttered. “It was a miracle no one was hurt.”
“Really, I’m okay. I swear.” She was
far more concerned about what the Countess would think if she knew that Alec had slept with her.
“This way.” Julia escorted her to a drawing room and set her down in a chair by the fire. After a few minutes, a maid set a tray down for Julia who poured two cups of tea.
“What happened after the plane landed in the field? We heard passengers stayed in houses nearby.”
“Yes, we were driven to homes nearby. It really wasn’t a big deal. I stayed with a lovely woman named Mrs. Fellers.”
“Oh, well good.” The Countess didn’t seem all that convinced Brie was all right but was willing to take her word for it. “And you met my eldest, Alec?”
“Yes,” Brie replied with caution. Since she hadn’t had a chance to talk with Alec, she wasn’t sure how much she ought to reveal about their interactions, or whether they needed to get their stories straight.
Julia’s face paled slightly at Brie’s confirmation of meeting Alec. “I must apologize.”
Brie didn’t understand. “For what?”
“Well,” Julia smoothed her dark blue, knee-length skirt as she stared at her hands. “Alec is…not quite as charming as Morgan, and he could hardly have given you the best impression of our family. He despises Christmas. It’s a miracle he’s even here this year. If it wasn’t for Simon and Bridget…”
“He knows Simon and Bridget?”
“Oh, yes. Didn’t Bridget tell you? I met her through Simon, of course, who I’ve known for years now. He and Alec went to university together. It was Simon who convinced Alec to come home to visit for Christmas this year.”
Brie took a sip of tea, relishing the smokey Earl Grey taste and a hint of sugar and milk, just the way she liked. But her thoughts kept coming back around to Alec.
“So, Alec doesn’t like Christmas?”
Julia’s gaze softened as she looked out the window at the snow blanketed grounds. “He used to love Christmas. He used to love Merryvale. But…” She paused, her voice a little husky with emotion. “His grandfather, Walter, died of a stroke on Christmas when he was a child and everything changed. He was hurt and angry. Neither Byron nor I could reach him. He was incredibly close to Walter, you see. They shared a special bond, and when he died, it left my little boy brokenhearted.” Julia met Brie’s gaze. “A mother can’t protect her child from everything. We strive valiantly to do so, but it’s impossible. Death is a part of life, part of growing up, but it’s never easy to come to terms with. I believe it came too soon for Alec. I know coming here must hurt him, but this is his home. It will be his to live in and care for when Byron and I are gone. I don’t…” Julia’s eyes were glittering with tears now. “I don’t know how to bring my son back, the son I loved and lost. The man you’ve met? He’s not the sweet, open-hearted child we raised.”