He laughed and nodded. Kissing lying in the snow wasn’t an ideal arrangement. He knew that. He just didn’t care about the wet clothes.
He looked over at the piece of ground a little away from the trees. ‘To make snow angels, we need to do it where there are no other marks. Let’s go over there.’
He took her arm and pulled her up. They’d only walked a few steps when she stopped dead. ‘Look!’
‘What?’ He looked around near the trees and bush she was pointing to.
‘Holly,’ breathed Grace. ‘It’s holly.’
She was right; the jaggy green leaves and red berries were poking out from underneath the snow. She grabbed hold of his arm. ‘Can you cut some? Wouldn’t it be gorgeous to have some fresh holly in the house?’
There it was again. That infectious enthusiasm. If she could bottle it and sell it she could be a millionaire. He put his arm around her waist. ‘Snow angels first, then the tree, then the holly. You could freeze out here.’
She nodded and shivered. ‘I think I already am.’
He took her hand and led her across the snow, turning around to face the castle. ‘How about here?’
She nodded as she looked at their trail of footprints in the snow.
‘Then let’s do it.’ Finlay grinned as he held out his arms and fell backwards in the snow, landing with a thud. ‘Oof!’
Grace looked a bit shocked, then joined in, turning to face the castle, holding out her arms and falling backwards. Her thud wasn’t nearly as loud.
They lay there for a few seconds. The clear blue sky above them, the white-covered world all around them, with the majestic grey castle standing like a master of all it surveyed.
‘It’s just beautiful here,’ breathed Grace.
Finlay wasn’t thinking about the cold. His eyes were running over the hundreds of years old building he’d neglected for the last five years. It had stood the test of time, again and again. It had been here before him. And it would still be standing long after he had gone. ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ he agreed.
Pieces were starting to fall into place for him. The brickwork at one of the turrets looked as if it needed work. There were a few misaligned tiles on one part of the roof—probably the result of one of Scotland’s storms. All things that could be easily mended.
The cold was soaking in through his jacket and jeans. All things could be mended. It just depended on whether you were willing to do the repairs.
‘Hey? Are you going?’
He smiled again. Grace was the best leveller in the world. ‘Yes, let’s go.’
They yelled and shouted as they moved their arms up and down in the heavy snow. Grace started singing Christmas songs at the top of her voice.
He hadn’t felt this happy in such a long time. He hadn’t felt this free in such a long time. He turned his head and watched her singing to the sky with a huge smile on her face—this was all because of Grace. He just couldn’t deny it.
When she finally stopped singing they lay in the snow for a few seconds.
‘Thanks, Grace.’
She looked surprised. ‘For what?’
He held up one damp arm. ‘For this. For helping me come back here. For making something that should be hard feel as if I was meant to do it. I was meant to be here.’
She rolled over in the snow onto her stomach, facing him. ‘That’s because I think you were, Finlay. Maybe it was just time.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘Maybe it was.’
She pushed herself up onto her knees. ‘Thank you too.’
‘What for?’
She smiled. ‘For making a Christmas that I thought I was going to hate, into something else entirely. Snow? A castle? What more could a girl ask for?’ She shook some snow off her jacket. ‘Except pneumonia, of course.’
He pushed himself up. ‘You’re right. Let’s go. The tree will only take a few minutes to cut down and we can grab some holly along the way.’
* * *
From the second they’d got back in the castle and showered and changed, things had seemed different. This time, Grace had put on the only dress she’d brought. It was black with a few sparkles. She’d always liked dressing up on Christmas Day and she was hoping Finlay would appreciate the effort. There hadn’t been time to do anything but dry her hair so she left it in waves tied back with the same pink ribbon as earlier. Finlay was in the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he basted the turkey—again.
She nudged him as she watched. ‘What do you say we make this easy?’
‘How?’
‘That tray of roast potatoes, stuffing and chipolatas? Just throw them in next to the turkey.’
‘You think that will work?’
She shrugged. ‘Why not? Let’s put the Christmas pudding on to steam. We might as well. We have a tree to decorate.’
Something flashed behind his eyes. She wasn’t sure what, because it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. He nodded. ‘Yes, we do, don’t we? Okay, then.’ He threw the rest of the food into the turkey tray. ‘At least if nothing else works, we still have the soup. It’s stored in the fridge. At least it’s safe.’
Grace put a pan of water on to boil and arranged the steamer on top with the small muslin-wrapped Christmas puddings. ‘All done.’
She’d left the cardboard boxes full of decorations in the sitting room. Finlay had already arranged the Christmas tree on the stand—just waiting to be decorated—and lit the fire to try and warm the room some more.
As they walked through to the room together she could sense something about Finlay. A reluctance. A worry.
The aromas around her were stirring up a whole host of memories. She was so used to making Christmas dinner with her grandmother. While the Christmas pudding was steaming they normally dug out some old board games and played them together.
It was hard not to have her around. It was hard to face the first Christmas without her. Her hand went automatically to her eyes and brushed a tear away. She wanted to enjoy this Christmas. She wanted to know that she could still love her favourite time of year without the person she usually spent it with.
What scared her most was how much she was beginning to feel about the man she was secluded with in this castle. That one kiss had stirred up so many hidden emotions inside her. Apart from a dusty castle, there were no other distractions here.
It was just him. And her.
It was difficult to ignore how he made her feel. It was difficult to fight against a build-up of emotions in an enclosed space.
She rummaged through the box and heard a little tinkle of bells. It reminded her of an old film she’d watched with her grandmother. She looked upwards and smiled. It didn’t make her feel sad; instead a little warmth spread through her. ‘Love you, Gran,’ she murmured.
She pulled a strand of tinsel from one of the boxes, bright pink, and wrapped it around her neck. Then, she flicked the switch on the radio. The words of Let it Snow filled the room.
She turned to face him and held up her hands. ‘Think they knew where we were?’
‘Could be.’ His voice seemed a little more serious than before; his eyes were fixed on the cardboard boxes.
She moved over next to him and put her hands on his chest. He’d changed into a long-sleeved black shirt, open at the neck, and well-cut black trousers. It would be easy to spend most of the day staring at his muscular thighs and tight backside. ‘We don’t have to do this, Finlay.’
He shook his head. ‘No, we do. I do.’ She stood back and let him open the flaps of the first box and start lifting out the decorations.
They were all delicately wrapped in tissue paper. He unwrapped one after the other. She could see the expression on his face. Each one brought back a different memory. She put her hand over his. ‘If I was at home right now, I’d
be feeling exactly the same way,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Some of the decorations my gran and I have had for years. Some of them we made together. There were several I just couldn’t hang this year. I get it. I do.’
His grateful blue eyes met hers. There was pain in them, but there was something else too. A glimpse of relief.
His hands seemed steady as he handed each one to her to hang. Occasionally he gave a little nod. ‘That one was from Germany. This one from New York.’
Her stomach twisted a little. She felt like Scrooge being visited by the ghost of Christmas past. All of these memories were wrapped around Anna. She didn’t expect him to forget about his dead wife. But she needed to be sure that when he kissed her, when he touched her, he wasn’t thinking of someone else. She wasn’t a replacement. She wouldn’t ever want to be. Lots of his actions made her think he was ready to move on. But this, this was eating him up. Her stomach flipped over. She’d brought something, lifted something on instinct in the penthouse in London. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
She looked in the box and gave him a smile. ‘Hey, I haven’t found anything purple yet. Isn’t there anything that will match our decorations down in London?’
He gave her a smile and shook his head. ‘There’s nothing in those boxes. But I did think about purple before we left. Give me a second.’
His footsteps echoed down the hall and she looked around. The fire was flickering merrily, giving off a distinctive heat. The smell of the turkey and Christmas pudding was drifting across the main hall towards them. Between that, and the Christmas tree, this place really did have the aroma and feel of Christmas.
Finlay came back holding a string of Christmas lights—the same ones they’d used in the hotel. Grace gasped. ‘You brought purple lights?’
He nodded. ‘I don’t even know. I didn’t think I’d planned to come here. But I know the lights we used to have here don’t work any more. I liked the purple lights from the hotel so I brought some along.’
He started to wind them around the tree. It was almost finished. The lights should have gone on first, but Finlay managed to wrap them around the tinsel and hanging decorations without any problem. When he’d finished he flicked the switch to light up the room.
It had grown steadily darker outside, now the room was only lit with the orange crackling fire and the purple glowing lights. Together with the smells of Christmas it was almost as if some Christmas spirit had been breathed back into Drumegan Castle.
Grace felt her heart flutter. There was one last thing she had to do. She was doing it for the right reasons. Even if she did have a tiny bit of selfishness there too. She needed to know where Finlay was. She needed to know how ready he was.
‘I brought something too. Give me a minute.’
She practically ran along the hall, finding the white tissue paper and bringing the item back. Finlay was standing looking around the room. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.
So, she took a deep breath and held out the item with a trembling hand.
It was now, or never. Time to find out what the future might hold.
* * *
Finlay’s breath was caught somewhere in his throat. He didn’t need to unwrap the item to know what it was.
Grace’s hand was shaking. He could see that. He reached up and put his hand under hers, taking his other hand to pull back the delicate tissue paper.
‘You brought this?’
She nodded. It wasn’t just her hand that was shaking. Her voice was too. ‘I thought it might be important. I thought it might be important for you.’
He pulled back the tissue paper on the white ceramic Christmas angel. This time when he looked at it, he didn’t feel despair and angst. He didn’t feel anger and regret. He looked into the eyes of the woman that was holding it. It was almost as if she were holding her heart in her hand right now.
He knew exactly how she felt.
Grace had brought this. Even though she’d been feeling lonely and sad this Christmas she’d still thought of him.
He could see how vulnerable she was right now. It was written all over her face. He reached up and touched her cheek. A sense of peace washed over him.
Anna. She was here with him. He could almost feel her smiling down on him. It was as if a little part of him unravelled. Anna had made him promise he’d move on. He’d find love again.
He’d locked that memory away because he’d never imagined it possible.
But he’d never imagined Grace.
Did she know how gorgeous she looked in that black dress that hugged her curves and skimmed out around her hips?
He lifted the white ceramic angel and clasped Grace’s hand as they walked over to the tree together. As he lifted the angel to hang it from the top of the tree there was the sound of fireworks outside. Bright, colourful, sparkling fireworks lighting up the dark Christmas night sky.
Everything about this just felt right. He reached up and gave the pink ribbon holding Grace’s hair back a little tug. As it came away in his hand he rearranged her hair, letting the loose curls tumble all around her face. ‘You always tie it back. I like it best like this,’ he said. ‘While you’re in the snow, and while you’re lying in bed.’
Grace’s eyes were glistening. This time when she smiled the warmth reached all the way into her brown eyes. Her sadness was gone. Banished. ‘We haven’t sorted out our sleeping arrangements for tonight,’ she said huskily. ‘I think we forgot to clean the other bedroom.’
He pulled her closer. ‘I think we did. But I’ve got another idea.’
She tilted her chin up towards him. ‘What is it?’
He nodded towards the fire and rug in front of it. ‘I was thinking of a picnic. A Christmas picnic with a mishmash of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, chipolatas and Christmas pudding, all in front of our real fire.’
She licked her bottom lip. ‘Sounds good to me. In fact, it sounds perfect. Do we have any wine? Or any champagne?’
He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the soft delicate skin at the bottom of her neck. ‘I think we might have brought some with us.’
She laughed, her fingers reaching for his chin and bringing it up next to hers. She met his lips with hers. ‘How about you grab the food and champagne and I grab us a blanket?’
He didn’t want to let her out of his grasp. Not when he could feel all her curves against his. ‘How quick can you be?’
She winked. ‘Quicker than you. Just grab an oven glove and bring the whole tray and some knives and forks.’ She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. ‘Last one back pays a forfeit.’
‘What will that be?’
She raised her eyebrows as she walked backwards to the door. ‘You’ll find out, slowcoach.’
He loved that she was teasing him. He’d already decided she could win. ‘Oh, and, Grace?’
She spun around at the door. ‘Yes?’
He winked at her as his mind went directly to other places. ‘Forget the flannel pyjamas. You won’t be needing them.’
CHAPTER NINE
THIS TIME WHEN she woke up in the castle, underneath was hard and uncomfortable. The arms around her were warm and reassuring, as was the feel of Finlay at her back. His soft breathing against her neck and feel of his heartbeat against her shoulder sent waves of heat throughout her body.
She couldn’t help the soft little moan that escaped her lips. Neither could Finlay; she smiled as she recognised the instantaneous effect it had on him too.
‘How do you feel about a Boxing Day excursion?’ he murmured in her ear.
She leaned back further into him, relishing the bare skin against hers. ‘What do you mean?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I’d told my mum, dad and sister I would visit today, remember? How do feel a
bout coming along?’
She turned onto her back so she could face him. ‘You want me to meet your mum and dad?’ The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end. Last night had been magical. Last night had felt like a dream. She’d never, ever experienced a connection like that. For Grace, it had felt like coming home to the place she’d always meant to be.
Nothing had ever seemed as right to her. But she was worried about what it meant to Finlay. His inviting her to meet his mum and dad today was sending a million reassuring go faster signals through her body.
She snaked her arms around his neck. ‘I’d love to meet your mum and dad. And your sister. Do you think they’ll be okay about meeting me?’
He gave a gentle laugh. ‘Oh, I think my mum will measure you for a pair of family slippers.’ He dropped a kiss on her lips. ‘Don’t worry, my family will love you.’
It was easy to respond to his kisses. Even though her brain was focusing on the family-loving-her part. Everything about this Christmas was turning out to be perfect.
* * *
The expression on his mother’s face when she opened the door was priceless. She flung her arms around his neck while the whole time she stared at Grace.
‘This is Grace,’ he said quickly as he slid his hand into hers for reassurance. ‘We met at work and she came up for Christmas at the castle with me.’
His mother’s chin bounced off the floor. ‘Fraser!’ she shouted at the top of her voice. ‘Aileen!’ He imagined his father pushing himself out of his chair at the pitch of his mum’s voice. ‘You spent yesterday at the castle? Why? You could have come here.’
He glanced at Grace and gave her a smile. Yesterday had been better than he could ever have imagined. Nothing could have matched that. He edged around his mother, who was still standing in the doorway in shock. ‘You knew I was coming today. That seemed enough.’
His father walked through from the living room and only took a few seconds to hide his shock. He greeted Finlay, then Grace with a huge bear hug. He wasn’t even discreet about the whisper in Grace’s ear. ‘Watch out for Aileen, she’s pregnant, cranky and will ask a million questions.’
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