An awkward silence filled the room as everyone paused, spoons halfway to their mouths, and stared at Emily in surprise.
She was rather surprised herself. Marcus obviously didn't mean to, but he'd made their relationship sound more intimate than it was, and she should set the record straight. As she pondered how to phrase her response, Paddy moved things on by jumping up at the table with his front paws and slurping a crème brûlée.
"Paddy. Naughty boy," Chloe shouted. "Get down."
"I guess that's why the environmental health officer told us not to allow the dogs in the kitchen," Vicky said, amusement in her voice.
Paddy circled the table and tried for a crumble and custard at the other end. Owen grabbed his collar and snapped on his leash. "Oh no, you don't. Time for us to go, I think. Chloe just wants to ask you something before we leave."
"Auntie Vicky, can I be a waitress at the wedding this weekend to earn some pocket money to buy Christmas presents?"
Vicky glanced at Emily, eyebrows raised. "I don't see why not."
"I'm sure Chloe will make a great waitress." To be consulted by Vicky gave Emily a lump in her throat. In only two weeks, she already felt so much a part of the team at Rosemoor Hall. She loved this place and the people, and it was great to know they valued her opinion.
"Thank you." Chloe hugged Vicky, and then wrapped her arms around Emily to hug her too.
Emily smiled and hugged the skinny teen back. This made her feel almost part of the family. She glanced at Marcus as he scoffed a second sticky toffee pudding, and a burst of affection squeezed her chest.
It was too late to stop from falling in love with her boss. She'd already fallen.
Chapter Eight
Marcus let Peggy out the back door and was about to put on his Wellington boots when he wondered if Emily and Snow White would like to join them for a turn around the lawn under the stars before dinner.
No matter what he was doing, Emily stayed on his mind. He'd tried to keep a professional distance this week, be more like an employer. But it was no good—he loved Emily's company. Every new day he spent with her, the feeling grew that he wanted them to be more than employer and employee, and more than friends.
He padded up the corridor in his socks and paused in the kitchen doorway. Emily wiped her finger around the inside of a crème brûlée pot. He expected her to put it in her mouth—rather hoped that she would, actually.
Instead she bent and offered the creamy finger to Snow White to lick.
"Caught you," Marcus said in a mock stern voice.
Emily jumped visibly and he laughed.
"Oh, Marcus." She pressed a hand over her heart. "Snowy has been so good today. I wanted to give her a taste. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not." Marcus didn't confide that he regularly let Peggy lick his plates and bowls before he put them in the dishwasher. It saved having to rinse them off.
"I'm going for a quick walk with Pegs. Do you want to come?"
"I've just about finished up here, so that'll be nice. Snowy needs a trip outside."
Marcus propped a shoulder on the door frame while Emily put the last couple of dishes in the washer. Then she took off her apron and hung it on a hook.
There was something incredibly sexy about the way she untied the apron and slipped it off over her head. He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. He had it bad if he found an apron covered in pictures of cupcakes sexy.
They walked to the back door in companionable silence, put on their boots and coats, and headed outside. Snow White trotted off to find Peggy, who was doing the rounds of her favorite sniffing places where foxes and badgers came through the garden.
"What a lovely evening." Emily stopped and turned her face up to the sky.
The elegant curve of her throat and the way her hair fell back in a long, shiny curtain enchanted Marcus. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair so badly, his hand twitched. He wanted to pull her close and feel her soft and warm in his arms. He wanted to inhale the vanilla-cherry fragrance of her hair.
Instead he blew out a frustrated breath and glanced up at the sky. The hook of the moon glowed against the darkness among a speckled mass of stars.
He'd chosen Gabriella because he'd been expected to marry a woman his parents approved of, a woman from the right background. That had been a spectacular failure. It was time he stopped worrying about doing the right thing and followed his heart.
Peggy woofed with anticipation, and Snow White yelped. They must have roused some poor wild creature from its nocturnal haunt. Their excitement spurred Marcus into action.
The frosted grass crunched beneath his boots as he stepped in front of Emily. The security light on the house lit half her face, leaving the other half in mysterious shadow. Her lit cheek was pale and smooth, her eyelashes thick and dark.
He lifted his fingertips to her cheek and caressed her skin. "Emily?" he said. The question he wanted to ask was too big for more words.
"Yes," she whispered, the soft reply laden with meaning.
With a sigh of pleasure, he drew her into his arms and let his fingers slide into the silky hair he'd been dreaming about. Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
• • •
Emily leaned into Marcus, relishing his strong arms around her. His fingers traced a tantalizing trail below her ear and under her collar, while his firm, warm lips swept her off into a dream.
She felt as though she'd waited for this moment all her life, as though she'd fallen into him, the warm rush of sensation so right and perfect.
"Marcus." She breathed his name in wonder as he released her lips. She cupped her palm over his cheek and stared up into his eyes, lost in him.
She loved this man—she had no doubt. The words to tell him were in her mouth, longing to spill out, but she held them back, worried she'd frighten him off if she went too fast.
She'd thought she loved Vicente, but she'd never felt like this with him. There had always been uncertainty. She'd had to be careful not to upset him as though she'd sensed his love was conditional on her behaving how he wanted her to.
With Marcus, she could be herself. He would never treat her badly or take advantage of her.
"I've wanted to do that ever since I first saw you," he said.
Emily laughed in delight. "Surely not from the very first moment, standing in the rain on the road."
He simply smiled and held her tighter.
Peggy and Snow White charged back across the lawn, and Snow White jumped up at Marcus's legs for the first time.
"Wow," he said softly. "Do you think she trusts me now?"
He lowered his hand and Snow White licked his fingers.
"Seems like I'm not the only girl whose heart you've won," Emily said.
Marcus slid both arms around Emily again and stared into her eyes. "I've won your heart?"
The low, sexy timbre of his voice nearly melted her.
"Yes," she whispered.
• • •
Being with Marcus was so wonderful. For the next few days, Emily forgot about her depressing credit card debt until the two statements arrived. With a sinking heart, she picked up the familiar envelopes stamped with the bank logos from the table where the maid had left them, and hurried back to her apartment.
Safely inside, she tore open the unwelcome missives and dropped into one of the chairs in her sitting room to spread the papers on her lap. At the sight of the amount she owed, desperation fisted in her chest. She closed her eyes and drew in a calming breath, fighting back the wave of despair.
The interest on the loan would consume nearly all her money this month. But at least she did have enough. Lucky for her, the Rosemoor estate paid its employees in the middle of the month, so she'd already been paid a month's salary.
Once the credit card companies took their slice from her bank account, she'd have just enough left to buy Snow White's food and a few essentials she needed. Her family and friends would have to be satisfied wit
h homemade fudge for Christmas, since that was all she could afford. Thank heavens she didn't need to worry about paying rent.
She rubbed her temples against the dull throb of a tension headache. Snow White jumped on her lap as if sensing she was needed. Emily cuddled her close, kissing her head, and wondered how she had ever survived without the company of her darling little dog.
It was wonderful having Snow White to console her, but she really wished she could summon the courage to confide in Marcus. She'd only told him half the story about Vicente. She hadn't admitted her money troubles. Marcus wouldn't judge her, but she was too embarrassed by her stupidity to admit how she'd been suckered.
A light tap on the door startled her out of her thoughts. She put Snow White down and jumped up to tuck the letters out of sight and check her face in the mirror before pasting on a smile.
Marcus stood outside, smiling, hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his hair a little ruffled as if he'd forgotten to brush it.
The sight of his dear face brought tears to her eyes. She stepped into his arms and buried her nose against his chest. Swallowing back tears, she gradually regained her composure.
"What's the matter, Em?" Marcus stroked some hair back behind her ear with gentle fingers.
"Nothing." She wiped the side of her hand beneath her lashes. "It's just lovely to see you again."
Confusion crossed his face. They'd only said good-bye a few hours ago when she came downstairs to shower and dress for a day's work. He probably thought she was going crazy, but he let it pass.
"Are you ready to look through the photos we talked about?"
"Of course." They were selecting photographs that gave a flavor of Rosemoor Hall at Christmas through the ages to scan and put on the website.
Emily turned and shouted for Snowy, who had gone to lick out her breakfast dish one last time.
Marcus enclosed her hand in his large, warm palm, his strong grip like a lifesaver in a stormy ocean. Little by little, her distress receded. She would be all right. She'd scrimp and save, and pay off the debts. It would take her a while, but she would free herself of this burden and get on her feet again.
They walked through the great hall into another corridor past the library and drawing room. The door to Marcus's office stood open, and there were three boxes of documents on his desk.
"I collected the photos together and filed them properly a couple of years ago when Jon started writing his books about the area and needed photos to include. Some of the locals let us make copies of their old images to add to our archive."
"Looks like you have plenty of photos to choose from now," Emily said.
Marcus passed her a pair of white cotton gloves before pulling some on himself. He lifted the lids off all three storage boxes and pushed one of the boxes her way. "You go through the most recent ones. We're looking for anything Christmassy."
The photos were separated by interleaving tissue paper. Some photographs had original handwritten notes on the back, or pencil notations on the paper between them.
Marcus held up a photo of his great-grandfather as a boy, standing in the great hall beside a huge Christmas tree that was covered in lit candles. "Mega fire hazard," he said.
Emily smiled, noticing how much he resembled the little boy. The Bramwell men all looked very much alike.
There didn't seem to be any very recent photos of the hall at Christmas. She found one of the buildings clothed in heavy snow with Christmas lights twinkling through the windows, and turned it over to check the date on the back.
"This is the most recent," she said, holding it up. "It's dated six years ago."
"That was the last year my mother was here. She always decorated and hosted a big family Christmas celebration at the hall." Marcus pressed his lips together sadly as he took the photo to look at it. "Gabriella wouldn't stay here for Christmas. We had to go somewhere warm and trendy."
"What about the last two years?" Marcus had been here alone then.
He shrugged and continued leafing through the box he was searching. "We all go to the Fat Goose on Christmas Day now. Shelly cooks for us."
His ex-wife had a lot to answer for. From what Emily had been told, the woman made Marcus's life a misery. It had probably taken him two years to recover. She reached for his hand and squeezed.
He glanced up, a silent moment of understanding passing between them, leaving her with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
It occurred to Emily that there would likely be a photograph of Gabriella in the box she was searching. Much as Emily despised the woman who had made Marcus miserable, a part of her couldn't help being curious to see what she looked like.
She started to examine the photos of people more closely. Finally, she pulled one from seven years ago. Marcus would have been twenty-eight at the time. He looked young, self-assured, and incredibly handsome in a dark suit, with a stunning blond woman at his side.
Emily's throat tightened, and she swallowed a painful knot of jealousy. Marcus and his ex-wife looked so good together, as if they belonged side by side. The camera loved Gabriella, but the picture lied because it made her look like an angel.
Emily, on the other hand, did not take a good photograph. Her nose appeared massive in photos, and her smile always looked forced. She'd told herself that Marcus must be the sort of guy who liked women for their personality, not their looks, but if he'd married a stunning beauty like Gabriella, that must be wrong.
He could have any woman he wanted. It made no sense for him to want her, a penniless housekeeper with only mediocre looks.
"All right?" he said, concern in his voice.
"Fine." She slotted the photo of Gabriella back in the box and unenthusiastically continued her search for Christmas pictures. Today was turning out to be a depressing one.
"Did you ever go to work with your grandmother when she was the housekeeper for Owen's parents? They used to have a group photograph of all the staff at the Boxing Day lunch, just like we did at the hall."
"No." Emily shook her head vigorously. "I don't remember having my photo taken."
A lie, of course. She clearly recalled how much she'd hated posing for those photos as a fat teen with unflattering glasses and acne. The last thing she wanted was Marcus seeing a picture of her like that.
Chapter Nine
Marcus saved a small corner of cheese from his sandwich before he put the crumb-covered plate down for Peggy to lick. Then he crouched and placed the piece of cheese on his outstretched palm for Snow White. She stared at him from her spot under Emily's stool at the island in his kitchen. After a few moments' consideration, she walked across to him and took the cheese, her tail wagging.
"Good girl. Was that nice?" He stroked the little dog's ears with a huge sense of achievement at winning her trust. Although it seemed he'd won Snow White's affection and lost Emily's.
"Snowy allowed me to pet her," he said to Emily, but she sat staring into space and didn't respond. She was right there, but might as well be a million miles away. And she'd been like this ever since this morning. He kept going over what he'd said and done in case he'd upset her.
"Emily, have I done something wrong?"
"Pardon?" She dragged her attention back from wherever it had been, and he repeated his question.
"No. Of course not."
"Well, you're acting as though I have."
"Oh, Marcus. It's not you." She slipped off her stool, abandoning her untouched sandwich, and stepped into his arms. She rested her cheek on his chest and hugged him. "I'm sorry. I'm just feeling down today. It's my problem, not yours."
That didn't really help because as far as he was concerned, her problems were his as well. He didn't want her coping with troubles on her own. If she was hurting, he wanted to be there for her. He circled a soothing hand on her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She'd become so important to him so quickly.
"Tell me," he whispered.
Emily heaved a sigh. "I have a couple of credit card debts,
and the statements came in the mail this morning. They always get me down."
"Can you afford to pay them off?"
"I can afford to pay the interest. It's nothing to worry about, really. I'm making a fuss." She tried to pull away, but he didn't release her. It obviously wasn't nothing, or she wouldn't be so preoccupied with it.
"Do you want me to pay them off for you?" Even as he made the offer, he knew she would refuse.
"You don't even know how much they are." She glanced up at him incredulously.
"Show me the statements then."
She turned away, and he let her go this time. For a few seconds, she stood with her back to him, her head bowed.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll get them." She hurried out of his apartment with Snow White behind her and returned five minutes later, some folded papers in her hand.
Sensitive to her strange mood, he kept things low-key. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his cheek rested on the side of her head as he read over her shoulder. Both statements were from major banks. He'd expected her to owe some horrendous amount, but the total of the two figures was little more than he spent and paid off on his credit cards every month.
He really could clear this debt for her without even noticing it, but she'd already said no. So he had to think of another way to help her.
"They're charging exorbitant rates of interest," he said. "It'll cost you less if you get a bank loan and pay off the cards."
"How will I persuade a bank to give me a loan? I'm hardly a good risk."
"I'll do that for you." All it would take was a phone call to an old school friend.
She turned in his arms and looked up at him, the light of hope in her mossy green eyes. "You can arrange my loan?"
"Absolutely." He'd do anything for her. "I'll get you an interest rate a fourth of what you're paying now."
Her eyes widened and filled with tears. But despite that, she smiled for the first time that day. Her face lit up, giving him a familiar tightness in his chest that made it difficult to breathe.
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