A Surprise Christmas Wedding: from the best selling author of A Perfect Cornish Christmas comes one of the most feel-good winter romance books of 2020

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘They’ll get here,’ Keegan declared. ‘If I have to fly them all out first class.’

  Lottie stopped her jaw from unhinging again. She was used to wealthy clients at Firholme, but Keegan was taking it to another level – she hadn’t even asked how much it would all cost.

  ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Connor said hurriedly. ‘I was only thinking through the logistics. Christmas itself is less than eight weeks away. What about all the legal stuff? The licence?’

  Joining him, Keegan stroked his arm. ‘We’ve gone through all that, baby. Now we have a venue and date we can book the registrar. I’m sure they’re not busy this time of year, are they, Lottie?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Lottie said. ‘But I can help you with all of that.’

  ‘There you are, Connor,’ Keegan said triumphantly. ‘Lottie will take care of everything for us. Aren’t we lucky? Now, I need to touch up my lipstick if you’ll show me the way to the washroom?’

  Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Keegan swept off to the cloakroom, leaving Lottie and Connor alone.

  The silence was painful before Connor spoke. ‘Keegan’s joking about the first-class flights.’

  What? Those were his first words after unexpectedly reappearing in her life after over a year?

  ‘It’s up to you,’ Lottie said tightly. ‘I totally understand that Keegan would want her family to be at her wedding.’

  ‘Yes, but there’s no way we’d fly them here first class,’ Connor insisted. ‘Business class maybe.’

  ‘Connor, you really don’t have to apologise or explain anything,’ Lottie said, wishing she hadn’t been left alone with him. ‘I’ll do anything I can to make sure you have a happy day and that your mum has a wonderful Christmas surprise. I’m so sorry she’s been ill. I wish I’d known.’ Lottie just stopped herself from putting her hand on his arm in comfort. With her own mother living so far away, Lottie’s relationship with Fiona had probably been closer than it might normally have been. ‘I wish I’d known. I would have gone to see her or sent some flowers and a card. Poor Fiona.’

  ‘She understood why you didn’t …’ Connor glanced away guiltily. ‘Why I hadn’t told you. In the circumstances, she knew it would have been really awkward for you.’

  Really awkward for Connor, she thought, but stayed tight-lipped. Her natural sympathy for him and his parents trumped any bitter feelings towards him. However, she’d resolved to take control of the situation they’d both found themselves in.

  ‘How close we once were is irrelevant now,’ she said, although she felt that her relationship with Connor was all too relevant, given the hurt and anger she still felt.

  ‘True … and I apologise. I never should have turned up without making an appointment, but Keegan was all for haring up here the moment I happened to say that Mum loved Firholme. She said we could look round, have a coffee and then when she mentioned about possibly getting married to that guy on reception, he said he would find someone to show us round – the wedding events manager, he said; he didn’t use your name or I would have twigged.’

  ‘You still wouldn’t have been able to stop Keegan from getting married here, though, would you?’

  ‘No … I suppose not. When she gets her teeth into an idea, it’s very hard to stop her.’

  It was on the tip of Lottie’s tongue to say ‘I can imagine’ but she stopped herself. Henceforth, she had to be scrupulously professional with her ‘bridal couple’ and that meant being enthusiastic and welcoming. She was finding it almost impossible with Connor, however.

  ‘Jeez, Lottie. I’m so sorry for landing here like this unannounced. It’s unforgivable. I’d never want to hurt you; you must understand that?’

  But you did hurt me, Connor, she thought. You’re still doing it now. Words dried in her throat. She’d finally got her life back on track, but now he’d ripped the dressing from a still-healing wound. The pain was sharper than she’d ever imagined it could be – because she hadn’t imagined it, she’d half hoped she’d never have to see him again because it was easier for her. She didn’t think she could bleed again at a look or touch from Connor; now she knew she could.

  ‘I can tell Keegan we can’t hold the wedding here if you really want me to,’ he said, but with a look as if he’d rather have his fingernails pulled out.

  ‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘No, you absolutely mustn’t change your plans because of us.’ How could she confess to Shayla that she’d been the cause of cancelling her first wedding at Firholme? The business really needed the revenue, and Keegan was clearly hoping to make it a lavish affair.

  ‘OK, I won’t then … and I am sorry.’ He touched her arm, leaving his fingers there long enough for her to feel a familiar tingle of pleasure at his touch, which she had missed so much in the early days. How could it still have the power to affect her?

  Subtly, she moved away a little. ‘Let’s stick to the practicalities.’

  ‘OK. If you’re absolutely sure. Perhaps it would be less complicated if we didn’t get into the details of our past relationship? Maybe it would be easier to let Keegan think we were just friends?’ His voice lifted hopefully.

  Even though Lottie had been thinking the exact same thing, it stung to hear him ask her to deny how close they’d been. Was that another sign that she still had feelings for him? She didn’t want to feel anything: she wanted to be numb – at least for this particular wedding. How would she summon up the joy and excitement she normally felt for her bridal couples?

  ‘Of course,’ she said, forcing herself into professional mode, even though her emotions were in turmoil. ‘There’s no reason for anyone to make the connection between us. I didn’t know anyone at Firholme before I started, though I can’t guarantee that no one will work out we were together … you know what it’s like in a small community.’

  ‘That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.’

  ‘What about your dad and your family and friends?’ she said. ‘Won’t you have to tell them the wedding is here?’

  ‘Yes, but we might keep the venue a secret as long as we can, even from my dad. I can’t trust him not to let something slip to Mum. He’s terrible at keeping secrets –’ he smiled briefly ‘– as you know.’

  She nodded. Derrick Moran had once blurted out that Connor had arranged a trip to Paris for her birthday, spoiling the surprise. Connor had been far more annoyed than Lottie, who really hadn’t minded. Derrick could be opinionated but he loved his family and had always been kind to Lottie.

  ‘OK, but there’s a chance they might realise once you finally reveal the venue. Some of them might know I work here.’ Shayla had wanted photos of key team members on the website but the photographer hadn’t had time to take official photos yet, Lottie thought ruefully, otherwise Connor would have realised she worked at Firholme and would have put off Keegan.

  ‘I doubt it. Besides I’ve lost touch with most of the old crew while I’ve been in Australia. After we split up, I wanted to make a completely fresh start. Once the wedding is over, I’ll come clean if I have to, though Keegan still won’t need to know um … how close we were. That’s my problem to resolve,’ he said firmly, as if Keegan was a workplace issue to be tackled.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure Keegan won’t feel …’ Lottie paused to choose her words carefully. ‘That she’s been kept in the dark if the truth comes out eventually.’

  ‘I prefer to call it being diplomatic. I’d rather we didn’t have to deal with it at all.’ He clammed up, as voices could be heard in the corridor. It was Keegan, returning from the ladies’ restrooms, gushing over the elaborate Edwardian fixtures, presumably to one of the housekeeping staff.

  ‘Unfortunately, we’re going to have to, whether we like it or not,’ Connor said hastily.

  ‘It really isn’t a problem,’ she muttered, already regretting letting him get under her skin.

  ‘Con-nor!’ Keegan’s voice penetrated the walls.

  ‘Coming!’ He hurried to the door and
Lottie followed him. She escorted them both out of the house and down to the office area, answering Keegan’s questions about catering, flowers and bedrooms for the bridal party. She’d already texted the café manager who had reserved a quiet seating area in the corner, and had coffee and home-made Cumbrian biscuits waiting.

  An hour later, the plans for the wedding were already under way, if not quite ‘nailed down’. Lottie gave Keegan her due; she was nothing if not decisive, just as Connor had said. He sat by, agreeing with everything while scrolling through his phone. Lottie suspected that now he’d realised he couldn’t put off Keegan from having the wedding at Firholme, he’d decided to give in and hope for a quiet life – from his fiancée and his ex, she thought wryly.

  Somehow, she managed to pretend that the wedding was like any other, although she had to avoid meeting Connor’s eye too often. She had a long ‘to-do’ list, but that was part of the job. It was, however, the fastest wedding she’d ever overseen, and she was also worried that Fiona would get wind of the surprise somehow.

  She decided to send an email around to all the staff, warning them not to discuss it outside of work. Hopefully, if Fiona did find out, it wouldn’t be from anyone at Firholme and she’d have done her job. Privately, Lottie was also convinced Fiona might have preferred to be involved in all the excitement of the planning. She loved organising family ‘dos’ … but that wasn’t Lottie’s problem, so she’d have to go along with it.

  She advised Connor and Keegan on the legal admin and saw them out of the café. They climbed into an SUV in the car park and drove out of the grounds.

  Still in her dress and jacket, Lottie realised she was shivering. The sun had slipped behind the fells, and the house was now in shade. At this time of year, the sun set well before four and with the clear skies, they were in for a very chilly night. While the temperatures might plummet, it was too early in the year for snow in the valley where Firholme was situated.

  Connor’s car had been one of the last to leave the car park, as the café emptied of its visitors and the grounds closed for the day. Folding her arms for warmth, Lottie wandered slowly back to her office, where Shayla would be gleeful about getting the pre-Christmas wedding that Lottie had thought impossible.

  Shayla might be thrilled but despondency settled on Lottie like the gathering dusk. The day had started so positively. She’d been looking forward to Christmas with Steph and the twins and choosing trees with Jay had been an unexpected pleasure. Yet it had ended with memories resurfacing from a dark time of her life. She was glad that Connor had found someone he loved, even if it was rather quick, but it hurt that he’d edited her out of his life.

  She’d found it so much harder to move on from him.

  She still cared about him, fancied him, and the ‘what might have beens’ had resurfaced like creatures from the deep. All of which made her more determined, no matter how hard it was, to make sure that her ex and his fiancée never suspected how hurt she was … and that they would have the most amazing wedding ever.

  Chapter Six

  Jay had allowed himself a discreet smile when he’d watched Lottie make her way down the path that skirted the plantation, earlier that day. Perhaps he should have been thinking about trees, but his mind was occupied by how great she looked in her coat and hiking boots. The fresh air had reddened the tip of her nose and brought out a pink glow in her cheeks that only enhanced her pretty face.

  Some of his colleagues had already made an effort to be friendly with him in his first week at Firholme but he hadn’t felt drawn to anyone until he’d spoken to Lottie that morning. Her love for her family had touched him and he suspected the bond between Lottie and her sister had been strengthened by the ordeal they’d been through.

  Jay knew how that connection with a sibling felt. He’d thought his bond with his older brother had been unbreakable, right until the moment Ben had shattered the trust between them. Jay hadn’t seen him since the previous Christmas Eve.

  As he walked back to the area where his team were clearing the forest, bitter memories battled with the pleasant emotions that had come from being in Lottie’s company. He’d have loved to ask her out for a drink, under other circumstances; those circumstances being he’d made a promise to himself never to get seriously entangled with another woman. He already liked her too much to let her down, and far too much to inflict his cynical, hardened self on, so it was kinder to avoid any involvement altogether.

  The most useful thing he could do for her was his job – which meant making sure the Christmas trees and greenery were harvested and transported to the house at their naturally spectacular best.

  Until public sales opened, he relished the chance to get stuck into the actual essence of his new role: managing the forest. He certainly hadn’t taken the job to give orders and watch other people doing the hard graft. Quite the contrary – the more time he spent out of doors in natural surroundings, the better.

  With that in mind, he briefed the plantation supervisor as soon as Lottie had left. Kerr Henshall was a Scot in his early forties with a bone-dry sense of humour. He lived just a mile away, in Langmere village with his son.

  ‘OK. I’ve marked the two Nordmanns and the spruces for the big house. I’d like to make a start on felling them once I have the go-ahead from Lottie … from the office,’ Jay corrected himself. ‘I think we’ll do the Nordmanns first and transport them to the house in the truck.’

  ‘I’ll get it sorted,’ Kerr said confidently.

  ‘I’m sure you could but I’d also like to be involved in felling the trees.’

  Kerr frowned. ‘We can handle that …’

  ‘I know, but I want to make sure these trees are at their very best for the big house.’

  ‘Whatever you say, boss.’

  Jay guessed that Kerr felt Jay was micromanaging the situation. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to get out of the office,’ he said quickly, keen to keep his deputy onside.

  Kerr smiled briefly. He seemed an easy-going guy and good at his job but Jay suspected that his predecessor had been very hands-off with the team. They must be finding it hard to get used to an upstart like himself.

  ‘Shall we get on with the thinning in the Middle Glade?’ Kerr said briskly. ‘We’re ready to take some of the wood down to the sawmill. You’ll be wanting to supervise that too, I take it?’ Kerr added casually, giving him a knowing look. ‘Or will you be away down to the big house again this afternoon?’

  Jay groaned inwardly. Kerr had obviously picked up on Jay’s keenness to make sure everything was perfect for the offices. Whether he’d also connected that with Jay’s chat with Lottie, Jay wasn’t sure.

  ‘No, I’ll be here to keep an eye on you,’ he said, with a smile. ‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

  ‘OK … Oh, and by the way, will you be joining us at the pub on Wednesday? We have a get-together at the local every month if we can.’ Kerr grinned. ‘Just a pint, a laugh and a meal. It’s a good chance for us to relax before the madness of Christmas starts.’

  Jay was caught off-guard. ‘I um … I’m not sure what I’m doing that evening.’

  Kerr nodded. ‘Well, the invitation’s open but if you’re otherwise engaged, that’s fine. I can see you might have a better offer.’

  Jay cringed. So far, during breaks, he was comfortable while the talk had been about sport or nature but he dreaded being drawn into any conversations about his personal life.

  ‘Thanks for letting me know,’ he said, trying to keep his reply low-key.

  ‘Lottie usually organises it … nice lass …’ Kerr said. ‘But there’s no pressure if you don’t fancy it.’

  Jay searched Kerr’s face for any hint that his colleague thought Lottie might be an added attraction for Jay.

  Which she was, of course.

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said evenly. ‘Thanks for letting me know about it.’ Then briskly: ‘I’ll be off to the High Copse and then I’ll join you in the Middle Glade.’
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br />   He hurried away, wishing that people wouldn’t invite him to things … yet also recognising that socialising was a normal part of work – of life. He knew he was already getting a reputation for being standoffish at best and an antisocial weirdo at worst. He was aware he’d become a hermit over the past year, avoiding all contact with people from his past life and his present.

  It wasn’t good for his mental health – but so far, he hadn’t cared.

  He loved working in the outdoors. It had been his solace to be surrounded by trees and wildlife, and the fells. It had helped soothe him and put his problems in perspective, not to mention it was physically tiring. Even before he’d moved to Firholme from an estate in the north of the county, he loved to set off for a walk with Trevor after his work shift, taking off into the hills or down by the lake until darkness fell.

  Sometimes he was alone, but long summer evenings attracted tourists. Even in autumn, there had been many visitors packing the russet fells, enjoying the autumn colours and the last days before winter arrived.

  Now, the throngs had thinned, but the first snows of winter on the peaks still drew the hardy back at the weekends, to marvel at the high tops, covered with white. Jay took off with an ice axe and crampons, hiking above the snow line where only the most intrepid ventured. He usually left Trevor safely tucked up in the cottage. He knew it was risky to walk and scramble alone, but he felt alive when he was up on the crags, looking down on the rest of the world.

  He climbed the slope to the copse, an ancient area of woodland above the plantation, full of oak, beech and mountain ash. It was the final wooded area before the ground rose sharply and opened out into heather-clad fells, populated only by the Herdwick sheep. As it wasn’t open to the public, it was one of his favourite places to seek peace and solitude. A deer emerged briefly into a clearing and he stopped to watch it vanish into the shadows. Nature helped to clear his mind.

  Jay walked on, working through his schedule for the run-up to Christmas in his mind. Tree sales opened on the final weekend in November and closed on the twenty-first of December, by which time everyone should have bought their tree or they’d have run out of stock.