He smiled again, knocking the door wide to allow her easy entrance. “All yours.” He stepped through into his own room on the other side, closing his bathroom door.
Lea followed his path and slid the bolt across, barring him from happening in on her.
“Make sure you unbolt it when you're finished,” he called through the door.
Drat! The man must have the hearing of a snake. Did snakes have good hearing? Wait, could they hear at all? Did they even have ears?
“Don't lock me out of my own bathroom for good.”
“Ha!” Lea called through the door. “I just might. As revenge for this booking debacle.”
“Hardly a debacle to be in two gorgeous rooms at Drakenfall at Christmas. And besides, if you do, I'll just have to come through your room to get to the loo, and I won't knock. As my revenge.”
“I'll bolt that door, too,” she laughed.
“Oh, Lea. Please don't make me tattle to Mark and Maisy on you.”
“I can't hear you,” she yelled just as she turned on the shower. She slipped off her strappy silk nightgown, stepping hurriedly under the hot spray in order to chase away the goosebumps skating across her skin.
Chapter 10: Boughs of Holly
The clock hadn't quite struck nine but Maisy was determined to get the pine boughs up along the moulding in the dining room before the first guests for breakfast trickled in.
She and Pippa had been working doggedly for the past forty minutes, trying their utmost not to laugh themselves right off the ladders as they festooned the grand room with green boughs and berries and ribbons. But it seemed that the more pressing the task, the more giddy they got as they tried to finish.
The idea had struck Maisy like a hockey puck to the head earlier when she'd walked into the kitchen and seen the delightful arrangement in the middle of the kitchen table. Pippa, who was already enchanted by the small pail of greenery, decided that similar decoration of the dining room was a must. The two women had raced outside, gotten the necessary saws and clippers and baskets from the cavernous tool shed, and gone to work. Fletcher had seen immediately what they were up to and ushered them in the sleigh to the best spots on the estate to harvest the necessary greenery.
They had just secured the last bough in place when the clock struck nine. Maisy scurried away with the ladder, while Pippa stood on the aged carpet looking up, admiring how cozy and Christmasy they had made the dining room. She was letting the warm joy of the Yuletide seep into her when the Stockletons entered the room with much circumstance.
“Why,” Mrs. Stockleton gasped, “breakfast isn't even laid out! Unless I am to believe that Drakenfall provides nothing beyond tea and coffee!”
Pippa spun to face them, wearing a bright smile, even though the sour pair had severely dampened her spirits. “No, indeed. Piping hot breakfast dishes coming right up!” And as she made her way toward the door in mid-curtsey, Cook and Kafi came bustling through with steaming delights to be laid out in the warming pans on the waiting sideboard. Pippa held the swinging door as next Kendrick and Maisy came through with yet more food, and finally Mark.
“Well, young lady.” Mrs. Stockleton sneered at a resolutely cheery Pippa who still held the door. “In lieu of standing there, why don't you get me some grapefruit juice?”
“Right away, miss.” And Pippa bobbed a curtsey.
“I've got it,” Maisy said, putting a hand on Pippa's arm. “You've done a magnificent job above and beyond this morning. The dining room looks better than we dreamed. Why don't you take a few minutes and get yourself some breakfast, and Mark and I will take care of anything the Stockletons need.”
In a flash, Pippa was gone.
But when Maisy returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, the young maid was nowhere to be seen, and certainly not eating her own hearty breakfast.
Maisy had noticed that something was upsetting Pippa. Something? No, not something. Of course it was the Stockletons and their prickly manner that was marring Pippa's festive mood. Maisy had thought a warm breakfast in the girl's belly might do her a world of good, but now she suspected Pippa just wanted to be away from company. And according to everyone in the kitchen, Pippa hadn't slipped through and ducked out the door, headed back to her small flat in one of the estate cottages. Maisy considered.
The small gallery.
They didn't light a fire in there until eleven as no one ever went in there any earlier. If Pippa wanted to be alone, that's where she would go.
Maisy made sure that everyone had breakfast service under control before she went in search of Pippa. She tossed a warm tartan shawl about her shoulders and grabbed a merry Christmas blanket as she headed toward the frigid room on the north side of the house.
And there she found Pippa curled into a wingback chair in the corner of the cold grey of the room.
And Pippa was crying.
Maisy stepped up to her and gently laid the blanket over her. “You must be freezing.”
Pippa clutched the blanket around her and sniffed. “Sorry, Lady Shiley. For running off and shirking my duties.”
“Nonsense,” Maisy said easily. “I told you to take some time for yourself.” She pulled an ornate needlework footstool up to Pippa's chair and sat down by her, pulling the shawl snugly around her shoulders. “I'm sorry about the Stockletons,” Maisy murmured. “They put a dour kibosh on such a splendid morning.”
Pippa sniffed again. “It's not just that. It's … begging your pardon, Lady Shiley.”
“Maisy. And I came in here to talk. And to listen. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Pippa lifted her red and blotchy face from where it was buried in the blanket and looked at Maisy with a degree of wonder … and assessment.
“Well ...” she began. “Sometimes ...”
Maisy put her hand on the girl's knee through the blanket.
Pippa sighed. “I work at Drakenfall. It's such a magical place. And I … I help make the magic happen.”
“In no small measure,” Maisy agreed heartily.
“But the magic ...” Pippa said. “It's never for me, you know? I help make it happen for everyone else. And this morning, when Mrs. Stockleton was all but telling me I had no right to enjoy the magic—”
“No, Pippa,” Maisy interrupted fiercely. “Never let the haters get into your joy and bring you down. Mrs. Stockleton is a woman who sent away her own son so she could enjoy Christmas. Without him. And she didn't even wave good-bye as he drove away yesterday.”
Pippa gave her a watery smile, a smile that peeked through her despair like sunshine through the squall. “It's okay, though. I waved. And you waved. And Mark and Kafi. We all waved.”
“Exactly. We aren't here to let her ill temper and untoward manners mar the festive mood. We're together and we have so much love here at Drakenfall that we're stronger than all the pettiness.”
But Pippa dissolved into tears again.
“Pippa, what is it?” Maisy asked gently. “What did I say?”
“That's just it. It's the love at Drakenfall. There's so much love at Drakenfall. And so much magic. And I feel like none of it's for me.”
“But I love you.”
Pippa looked at her with frightened, teary eyes. “But … Lord Shiley … he loves you. You. And you love him. It's different when you're in love. When the person you love loves you back. When you're the special one.”
And suddenly Maisy felt it, like the way her tummy dropped when she hit a pocket of turbulence in a 747.
Pippa had had a crush on Mark. Or maybe Maisy wasn't giving her enough credit. Maybe she had even loved Mark. Maybe her feelings were all still there, buried yet pulsing painfully. Pippa had felt something for Mark, but he'd just gone and fallen for someone else, out of the blue, right in front of her.
Maisy nodded, blinking rapidly. “I get you,” she acknowledged. “I think maybe it is easier to feel love for everyone around you when you're in love yourself. But I'll tell you this much. You're in a much bet
ter place than I was when I was your age.”
“But when you were twenty-two, at least you had a college degree, and a brilliant job. With a future.”
Maisy nodded. “But I didn't have a home like you have a home here at Drakenfall. And I wasn't surrounded by love. I think it is quite safe to say there was no love in my life beyond the dogs.” Maisy smiled. “Which is a wonderful love I wouldn't trade. But I had no … support. You know? No one to be in my corner. But here? You've got your own tribe, Pippa. People who love you and have your back no matter what. Never underestimate how precious that can be in life.”
Just then, Declan, Jason and Colin came bounding into the room, tongues lolling and tails wagging. “Speaking of my best guys!” And Maisy reached out to hug and pet the rambunctious hounds.
“Hey!”
Maisy and Pippa looked up to see Mark run into the room, chasing after the dogs.
“Maisy,” he said, eyes alight. “I was looking for you so I sent the dogs—Pippa,” he said, noticing her all huddled and tear-stained in the chair. “Pippa, what's wrong?” And he sounded so genuinely concerned Maisy worried it just might break Pippa's heart.
But Pippa stood up and smiled.
“Lady Shiley was reading me the riot act for my mis-buttoned cardigans,” she said. “And she can be so mean.”
“Those shoes of yours are scuffed, too,” Mark chided in a deep, dictatorial voice.
“Off with you,” Maisy joked. “To the kitchens. And stay there doing scullery work for the rest of the day.”
Pippa curtsied and fled the room. Maisy pulled out her phone and texted Cook, asking her to do Pippa a fry-up.
“What was that all about?”
Maisy looked at Mark. “Girl talk. Pippa's just a bit weepy, is all. And I get it. Holidays can hit you like that, you know? When growing up was … well, let's just say when family life left something to be desired.”
Mark leaned forward and kissed Maisy. “Drakenfall is her family now. And yours. And I hope—”
But Mark stopped talking, swallowed, and looked down.
Maisy took both his hands in hers. “Everything's okay, Mark. Now why on earth did you send the hounds looking for me?”
“Oh, that. Right. Kafi asked if he could talk to us later today. 4:30 in your office sound good?”
Maisy set an alarm on her phone to remind her. “Sounds good. Now what do you say we buzz by the dining room and make sure those nasty Stockletons aren't curdling anyone's porridge? They seem like the type to breakfast until eleven, driving everyone away more effectively than trolls at the gate.”
“Let's go.”
Chapter 11: Breakfast of Champions
Since Lea had collapsed on her bed after her hot shower and had promptly fallen asleep for another three hours, she and Jamie did not enter the dining room for breakfast until ten past ten. They had been thinking of ferreting their breakfast dishes to some more remote corner of the house, but when they walked into the room scented with pine boughs, Lea felt a warmth and well-being she did not want to forgo. One look out the French doors to the gently falling snow had her heart melting like an ice cream left in the sun.
But those unsavoury Stockletons lingered over tea, looking for all the world as if they were holding court. Lea didn't know if she possessed the sheer talent it would take to ignore them.
So instead, Lea took Jamie's arm and leaned into him. “Oh, Jamie. Darling, this is our first breakfast at Drakenfall,” she declared with vociferous adoration. “Isn't it too marvellous? I could soak in all this cozy charm all day long.”
If the look on Jamie's face registered and, indeed, revealed, his confusion, no one would have been the wiser, since he was, at that moment, looking at a silver chafing dish of kidneys.
He hadn't noted the Stockletons as had Lea, so without quite knowing what the game was, he decided to play along. He snaked an arm around Lea's waist, sighing with emphatic contentment. “Stop it, Lea,” he chided. “You're making me wish we'd just done breakfast in bed.”
And as he pulled her against his hip, Lea felt an odd thrill jolt through her. “Stop!” she chided with a coquettish laugh. The play-acting seemed to be getting easier, so she let her eyes drift across all the platters and dishes laid out before her. “Mmm … so much here. If only I could enjoy it all.”
Jamie looked at her, concern cutting through his lover-boy persona. “Gluten allergy?”
“My waistline, silly!”
He smiled and squeezed her. “Feels fine to me. And if there's a bit more for me to—”
“Jamie! Not in the dining room.”
And that did it. Even as they faced the sideboard, Lea heard the Stockleton woman harrumph in disgust.
“Really.”
Lea turned to face the disapproving couple.
“You could show some decorum at a place such as Drakenfall, I should think,” Mrs. Stockleton scoffed.
“Oh, I don't know.” Jamie turned to face them as well, tucking Lea into his side. “Seeing as how Lord Shiley met Lady Shiley when she was a guest here, I'd say romance is just the thing at Drakenfall.”
“Romance?” Mrs. Stockleton spoke in a downright cackle. “An upstart American comes to Drakenfall and catches herself a baron and you want to call it romance?”
Jamie took a step toward the snide couple. “If you can't see, just by looking at Mark and Maisy, how in love they are, then I … I'm very sorry for you. You're missing out on the very best life has to offer.”
Without a word, Mrs. Stockleton lifted her chin to a dizzying height and left the room, her husband on her heels.
Lea looked at Jamie, a sensation of awe washing over her. And not because he had so successfully ejected the Stockletons.
“It worked,” he said, turning to look at her. “They're gone.”
Lea shook herself before smiling brightly into Jamie's eyes. “Somehow, I just knew an over-the-top display of affection would send ice sculptures like them running.”
Jamie nodded, discreetly pressing at his breastbone. “Right. Everyone else here is so pleasant.”
Lea smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “Like those old hens from last night?”
And though Lea's voice danced along the edges of cynicism, Jamie just smiled as he turned back to fill his plate. “Exactly. What spiffing ladies! Mrs. Fox and Mrs. Winter can grace any room any day of the week.”
Lea laughed. “They're straight out of A Room With a View. I almost wonder if they're not actresses the Shileys hire to give the place atmosphere.”
Jamie clicked his tongue as he stood near the table, waiting for Lea to take her seat. “Your sarcasm is showing, Ms. Sinclair.”
Lea turned to toss him a saucy look as she passed him. She took the seat kitty corner to him. “And what's wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” he said, sitting and pulling in his chair. “It's just that you're usually so much more deft with the snarkiness. I'd say Drakenfall is throwing you off your A game.”
As Jamie tucked into his eggs and tomato, Lea just stared.
Snarkiness? Jamie acknowledged her cynicism, her snarkiness. And he revealed that he'd been most keenly aware of her sarcasm for some time. Mr. Goody Two Shoes recognized acerbic wit. Her acerbic wit. Lea could feel her cheeks grow hot. Oh, what clever insults had she been scattering his way over the years, assuming him too obtuse to notice? But instead, he knew, all the time, of her mocking contempt. But gently mocking, surely? He couldn't really think she meant any of it, could he?
Lea dropped her eyes, looking at the meagre breakfast of fruit she had assembled for herself. Without a word, she took the luscious chocolate croissant off Jamie's plate and sank her teeth in.
Perhaps years of having his siblings swiping his treats had trained Jamie. That's what little brothers and sisters did, right? Swiped your treats and always tried to change the telly channel on you? At least that's what Lea figured they probably did. And Jamie had come out of it all a perfect gentleman. Because he didn't protest or
scold her.
He just smiled as he swallowed a sip of tea. “Plenty more where that came from, Lea. You think I'm so hemmed in, but it's really you who needs to let loose and indulge yourself.”
Chapter 12: A Horse Named Destiny
Fletcher was counting the polished bridles hanging on the tack room wall when he heard a gasp behind him.
“Oh! You're here.”
Fletcher turned to find Ms. Ferry standing there in her slipped-on furry boots and long flowing overcoat. She held her gloved hand to her heart as if he'd given her a fright worthy of Banquo's ghost.
“Ms. Ferry,” he said. “I work here. In the stables. And I live in the flat right upstairs. So, the chance that you might see me in here, at the stables, is pretty high. Just for future reference.”
“But I saw some horses and riders head out. I thought you were leading a party of guests.”
“Nah. Gave some of the lads the afternoon off, before the weather really sets in. So, they took the horses and headed into the village. Horseback travel has become amazingly efficient in this snow.”
“Yes,” Glynis agreed heartily.
“And what brings you into the stables?”
“Me?” But all Glynis could think of was the rapid beating of her heart and how this man who she stood alone with in the stables could be her destiny.
“Ms. Ferry? You know, you look cold. Why don't you come sit in the office and I can get us some tea. And I even have some cake Cook sent down.”
“No,” Glynis said, all but jumping back. “No, thank you. I just …”
And Glynis lost her train of thought and found herself caught in his eyes. Nothing special about his eyes. Just brown. Dark brown. But the way he was looking at her. With hope? Possibility?
What is she were his destiny?
“Destiny?” Fletcher said.
Oh. God! Had Glynis said that OUT LOUD?
“Yes,” Glynis laughed, twirling around encompassing all the stalls in her outstretched wingspan. “Destiny. Don't you think that's a … a nice name for a horse?”
A Drakenfall Christmas: A Novel Page 5