Sealed with a Christmas Kiss

by Rachael Lucas

  Sighing with the delicious memory of it all, Kate looked up at the ornate cornicing on the bathroom ceiling. It was mad to think that this was home now, and that she lived in a castle. Or a big house, as Roddy would insist on calling it – but with its crenellated roof, ornate turrets and tower complete with flag, it felt like a castle to Kate. Not that life was particularly princessy, mind you. There was a constant worry about money: things kept falling down, or falling off, or falling apart. And the estate workers had to be paid, and then there was the sagging island economy, although a regular flow of wedding visitors would help with that . . . and there she was, again. She sank beneath the bubbles, closing her eyes. Was this wedding thing ever going to stop weighing on her mind?

  ‘I’ve brought you coffee.’ Kate shoved some books aside, making space for the two mugs. Roddy’s laptop screen was a jumble of open windows, with the mocked-up new Duntarvie House website taking pride of place.

  ‘Looks good, don’t you think?’ He stood up, motioning for her to take his place in the battered old leather chair. ‘Sit down.’

  For a moment she wondered what he was up to, but then the familiar sound of a Skype call broke through her thoughts.

  Sian Patterson flashed the display.

  ‘Oh God, not now. I can’t face her,’ said Kate, reaching to click the ‘unavailable’ button, but Roddy got there before her.

  ‘It’s fine, I’m expecting her to ring. I texted her when I heard you were out of the bath.’

  The video call popped into life. Sian was beaming. Kate looked at her own face in the corner of the screen, rearranging her features rapidly. Her scowl was thunderous, but Sian clearly hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Kate! Brilliant. Roddy?’ Sian popped sideways on the screen, as if hoping she could peek round the corner and catch sight of him.

  Roddy knelt down beside Kate so his face, too, was visible.

  ‘So, I’ve spoken to Maddy.’ Sian looked surprisingly unruffled by this, considering.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Kate wasn’t sure if she’d have gone home to string Leo up or cut up all his designer suits.

  ‘Surprisingly so. She’s chucked him out, and she’s decided to travel round Scotland on her – well, on what would have been her honeymoon. Apparently your mate Finn got her number. He’s a fast mover.’

  Kate shook her head, amazed. ‘I think she’s maybe still in shock, Sian.’

  ‘Whatever. She seems happy enough.’ Sian’s tone was dismissive. Kate, aware she was on screen, kept her expression neutral. Sian had always had a bit of a hard shell when they were at university together, and business had clearly added an extra layer of toughness. With Maddy and Leo out of the equation, her priorities lay elsewhere.

  ‘Anyway,’ said both Roddy and Sian at exactly the same time.

  Sian clapped her hands with glee. ‘This is just too good.’

  Kate turned to Roddy, head cocked to one side slightly, questioning. This was all a bit weird.

  ‘Honey, I’ve had the best idea. Well – ’ He looked at the screen, where Sian’s face was grinning back at them slightly dementedly.

  ‘Well – we have.’ Sian finished his sentence. ‘We’ve found the perfect couple.’

  ‘You have?’ Kate was beginning to think she was going mad.

  ‘Kate. I know this is a bit unorthodox . . . but – ’ Roderick paused for a tiny moment, running a hand through his hair in the familiar gesture she’d grown to love so much. ‘Will you marry me?’

  The room spun for a second. Kate jumped up from the chair, pushing it backwards so it twirled round drunkenly.

  ‘Are you joking?’

  This wasn’t – this was all wrong. Roderick was looking at her, confusion in his eyes, and the tinny voice of Sian was echoing in the background, but Kate couldn’t hear her.

  ‘Um . . . I was expecting a yes. But no, I’m not joking. It seemed like the perfect solution.’ Roderick reached for Kate’s hand, but she pulled away.

  ‘I can’t. No. Not like this, Roddy. No.’

  Sian was motioning furiously from her little box on the screen. Kate reached over, slamming the laptop shut.

  ‘What do you mean, “not like this”?’ Roddy, shocked, sounded clipped and brusque.

  Kate exhaled in temper. The sound was almost a snort.

  ‘I’m not the solution to Duntarvie’s problems, Roderick.’

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Kate, on a roll, continued.

  ‘Just because it turns out that Leo is a lying shit with a mobile phone for every girl he’s got on the side, doesn’t mean you can just shove me in at the last minute as a substitute.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant at all—’

  ‘Looks like it to me. In fact, sometimes it feels like there are three of us in this relationship – you, me, and this bloody house!’

  ‘You knew what you were getting into, Kate.’ Roddy’s eyes narrowed in temper, his voice icily calm. He could be a complete upper-class shit when he wanted to.

  ‘Well, maybe I don’t want to get into it.’

  She could feel her own temper rising. The pressure of trying to juggle everything was too much, and the idea of being nothing more than a convenient solution to Roddy’s problems – well, it was the final straw. For a big house, Duntarvie could feel bloody claustrophobic at times. She glared at Roddy with fury, and whirled out of the room before he could say another word. Grabbing her keys from the hook in the hall, she flew out of the huge front door and climbed into her little car. She turned on the ignition and shot down the drive, realizing as she almost hit an indignant pheasant that she had no idea where she was going. She turned left out of the driveway, onto the single-track road that led to the north end of the island. Passing the tiny hotel which served the bay, she drove on in silence. It wasn’t until she’d reached the point where the narrow road ended at the top of the island that the red mist cleared, and she realized she could think about what had just happened. She pulled the car over on the deserted road, elbows on the steering wheel, hands in her hair. She loved Roddy, she loved Auchenmor. She loved everything about this place. Why was the idea of marrying him so awful?

  ALL men are complete SHITS. NO exceptions.

  She fired off a furious text to Emma, but it flashed back at her: ‘Message not sent – try again?’ She hit the screen in a temper. ‘Message not sent.’

  ‘Oh, bog OFF.’

  Bloody, bloody island life. Banging her fist on the steering wheel, she swore a few times. Then, realizing there was nowhere to go but off the end of the island in a rowing boat, she turned the car around.

  ‘Shit!’

  Foot to the floor, Kate hadn’t expected to drive around a bend and find the road blocked. But there sat a familiar pickup truck painted with the Duntarvie Estate colours, its back end open and what looked like half a tree sticking out.

  ‘Easy, tiger.’ It was Finn, of course. He swung round from behind a hedge, chainsaw in hand, sandy hair trapped under a ridiculous bearskin hat. On anyone else it would have looked insane, but he carried it off.

  ‘You’ve parked your bloody truck on the road. Any chance of getting it out of my way?’

  ‘Get you, Lady Muck.’ He gave her a shove, grinning. ‘It’ll be “get orf my land” next.’

  Kate deflated slightly, her temper subsiding. He was right, she did sound like a bit of a cow. And he hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.

  ‘Sorry. It’s bloody Roddy.’

  Finn shoved the chainsaw into the back of the pickup, slamming the back closed and locking it. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘He proposed.’

  ‘Right. What an absolute git.’ Finn looked at her and winked. ‘And you’ve realized you made a mistake all that time ago, right?’

  One drunken night Kate, like most of the women he met, had fallen for Finn’s easy charms. He was uncomplicated, funny, kind-hearted and easygoing, so it wasn’t exactly difficult. The next morning, when Kate realized she’d made a terrible mistake, F
inn had taken it in his stride. He was a free spirit, and he’d swung off happily, probably heading out for dinner that night with some other woman. He seemed to have a never-ending supply of them.

  ‘Shut up, Finn.’ She wasn’t in the mood for his teasing.

  ‘This is serious. Not like you to be in such a strop, darlin’.’

  Kate scowled at him.

  ‘I’m heading back to Kilmannan now for a bit of lunch. D’you fancy following me back and telling me what’s going on?’

  ‘I dunno. I’ll see how I feel when I get there.’ Kate was suddenly hit by a need to be alone, to have time to think.

  Arriving in town, she was decided. Her expression clearly said it all to Finn as he swung out of the cab, having pulled in to park just in front of her on the side street that led down to the little row of shops.

  ‘Not in the mood?’

  ‘I need to think, Finn. Another time. But thanks.’ Shoving her keys into her bag, Kate turned, having decided just what she needed to do. Picking up a basket in the doorway of the Co-op, she grabbed two bags of tortilla chips, a multi-pack of dips, a packet of strawberry bootlaces, two microwave curries and an elephant-sized bar of Galaxy chocolate. As the pink wine in the fridge was on offer at three bottles for £12, it seemed rude not to buy that too.

  ‘Girls’ night in?’ The woman at the counter gave her a knowing smile. Kate threw three bags of jelly beans into the basket, in a last-minute emergency panic.

  ‘Something like that.’ Manners won over temper and she gave the woman a smile, taking her change and clanking her way out of the shop. Keeping her head down, aware that she’d be lucky to make it back to the car without bumping into at least one person she knew, she marched along. Bloody Roddy, thinking she could be some kind of stopgap. He was an arrogant nob, he really was.

  ‘Whoa, watch yourself there!’

  Deep in thought, Kate hadn’t noticed she was marching into the line of the bank machine. She crashed straight into Susan – as predicted, she couldn’t even buy a mountain of comfort food without someone she knew catching her out. At least it was her best friend on the island, and not one of the local gossips.

  Kate lifted the bags in explanation. ‘Day. From. Hell.’

  ‘Emergency wine?’ Susan nodded, knowingly.

  ‘Emergency everything.’

  ‘Anything I can do?’ Susan, always up for an excuse to escape her two gorgeous children, looked hopeful.

  ‘You can bring me some firelighters and meet me back at Bruar Cottage.’ Shrugging her slipping bag back onto her shoulder, Kate gave a heavy sigh. ‘I’ll explain all down there.’

  Swinging the car left into the entrance of Duntarvie House, Kate found herself looking at the place with a different perspective. The familiar faces of the stone lions looked down at her, larger than life and pocked with lichen. The driveway was narrow, and she found herself thinking back to the first time she’d driven down, watching the overhanging branches of the unkempt hawthorn bushes – then huge and untamed, now slightly more restrained – slapping the windows of Roddy’s Land Rover as Jean had driven her into her new life.

  Passing over the stone bridge, she looked up towards Ted and Morag’s stables. The house sat, reassuringly square, atop the hill. The field that stretched out beyond was dotted with the shapes of numerous rotund Highland ponies.

  If things had been different, all this could have belonged to Morag, Kate remembered. Years ago Roddy’s father had been in love with her, but too cautious – or too shy – to tell her how he felt. He’d watched his best friend, Ted, woo the woman he loved and take her away to start a new life in London, where they’d married and lived happily together for many years. Now they were back here, living in the stables that had been bequeathed to Morag in Roddy’s father’s will.

  Kate drove past the cottage, not noticing Morag waving from the gateway of the stable yard. She drove on, slowing up unthinkingly, the habit of old ingrained. She turned the car left down a stony driveway and bumped down a little track. There was Bruar Cottage, her first home on the island of Auchenmor. She pulled up the car, flipping the keys in her hand, feeling for the big old metal key that would open the dark-red front door.

  The air inside was cool and damp. She’d timed this right. Another couple of weeks and she’d have found the place in a different state – it was due to be renovated, one of the cottages that would be rented out to tourists and wedding guests as part of the packages they’d be offering. She flicked on the light. Most of the furniture was still there – even the little pieces she’d found in the charity shops in town and lovingly repainted with pale, chalky colours. There hadn’t been much point moving them up to the big house when she’d left – they were normal-house-sized, and Duntarvie was so enormous it dwarfed everything. Including, thought Kate with a frown, her relationship with Roddy.

  She stepped through the doorway into the sitting room. It was freezing, and the central heating would take forever to get going – if it was even working. It had always been temperamental.

  On the fireplace was a leftover box of matches, and when she looked down it was with relief – thank goodness for being disorganized. If she’d finished sorting this place out, she wouldn’t have left half a basket of logs and a half-box of firelighters. Scrumpling up an ancient copy of Grazia that had been discarded on the bookshelf, she got to work. If there was one thing she could do well, it was light this fire. It was satisfying to get to work on something – within a quarter of an hour, she sat back on her heels, feeling pleased with herself.

  ‘Kate?’

  She looked up from the flames. Susan was standing in the doorway, the discarded shopping bags in her hand, a questioning look on her face.

  ‘I thought I’d light the fire first.’

  ‘Okay. You left the shopping in the doorway, that’s fair enough.’ Susan cracked open one of the bottles of rosé and disappeared out of the room for a moment, returning with two glasses. She filled them almost to the top and handed one to her friend.

  ‘You want to explain why you’ve apparently forgotten where you live? Did I miss a memo?’

  Kate took a massive gulp of wine. It was remarkably sweet, like strawberry fruit squash. She took another swig for good measure.

  ‘Roddy asked me to marry him.’

  Susan leapt across the room in a bound, managing not to spill a drop. She wrapped her arms around Kate with a shriek, then realized after a second that the body she was hugging was stony and unmoving. She pulled back, holding Kate at arm’s length, and looked at her.

  Kate didn’t quite know what to do with her face. She hid her expression behind the wine glass, taking another mouthful.

  ‘Okay. I thought you’d maybe had a bit of a falling-out – I told Tom as much when I got back to the house. He told me to come and administer wine and sympathy, and that he’d put the children to bed. But Kate – he’s asked you to marry him?’

  ‘Yeah.’ One mumbled little word.

  ‘Ohh-kay. And it’s not “congratulations, excellent news” we’re going for, but “pass me the wine and comfort food”?’

  ‘I dunno. Oh God, Susan, I know you think I’m insane. It’s just—’

  ‘Oh come on, Kate. People get married after two weeks. You two are made for each other – it doesn’t matter if you’ve only been together a year. Life is for living.’

  ‘It’s not that. He only bloody asked because Maddy and Sam turned out to be a washout, and we’re supposed to be doing a showcase wedding for Sian’s stupid website.’

  ‘I’ve known him since we were tiny, Kate. Roddy doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. God, you ought to know that.’ Susan reached into the carrier bag, peeling open the huge bar of chocolate. She snapped off a strip of squares, passing them across to her friend. Kate shook her head.

  ‘His main priority is Duntarvie House, Susan. I come second to a stately home.’

  Susan looked at Kate. She shook her head slowly, popping a square of chocolate into he
r mouth.

  ‘No. You’ve got this one wrong. He loves you. In fact, let’s just point out the facts here, sweetie.’

  Kate swung round so she was facing her friend directly, curling her toes up onto the battered old sofa. The fire was roaring now, and the room was warming up.

  ‘So the guy you love, who completely adores you,’ Susan counted out her points on her fingers, eyebrows arched, ‘who you have finally moved in with after months of making your point about being independent – so, he wants to marry you. And the problem is . . . ?’

  ‘You remember when we got together? When Fiona tried to convince me he was only after someone to carry on the family name?’

  ‘Yes. And I remember that everyone told you she was a conniving cow, and you were ridiculous to believe her for even a second.’

  It was easy for Susan to say that – she’d known Roddy all her life, and she knew his ex-girlfriend well enough to make confident statements. The expression of smug satisfaction on Fiona’s face when she’d planted the final seed of doubt was one Kate could still remember. All those insecurities hadn’t gone away after all; they’d just been hiding in her subconscious, waiting to pounce.

  ‘Come on, Kate. If Roddy was given a choice between you and Duntarvie Estate, he wouldn’t even think about it for a second.’

  Kate stopped plaiting the tassels on the cushion she was hugging for a moment. There had been a point a few months back when they’d come seriously close to walking away – when the stark reality of being responsible just seemed too much for Roddy to cope with. The repair bill for the roof lining had been so steep that they’d both seriously considered giving it up, starting afresh somewhere else, leaving the house to become a tourist attraction and not a home. Kate had been the one to talk Roddy into staying when he’d wanted to sell up, walk out, and have a normal life. She’d reminded him how many families relied on the estate for their livelihood, the tenant farmers who’d lived there all their lives, the workers at the fishery and the forestry. If they had given up, they’d have been making a choice for everyone.