They were all older now. Just not necessarily wiser.
‘We’ll look forward to it,’ Henry said, leaning in for his own hug and kiss. ‘Family shouldn’t be apart at Christmas.’
Jasper came over to make his last goodbyes and then, suddenly, they were back on the road again.
Tori watched the Moorside Inn grow smaller and smaller in the wing mirror, and blinked away more tears she refused to shed when it disappeared completely.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SNOW STILL COVERED the land around them, inches deep and untouched except for the odd footprint or animal track. The road, however, was that horrible grey mush of snow mixed with salt and earth, churned up by car tyres. Jasper took the drive slowly, carefully, wondering if maybe they should have at least waited until after lunch to set out. But as soon as she’d heard the road was open, Tori had been getting ready to leave and shoving his backpack and laptop towards him.
The Moorside Inn might have been her home once, but she’d been conspicuously eager to leave it.
The memory of Tyler, he supposed, remembering that strange, middle-of-the-night connection between them after her dream. She hadn’t mentioned it this morning, unsurprisingly, so neither had he. In fact, she hadn’t mentioned much at all, and they’d reached the main road in complete silence. Jasper was starting to think they’d be all the way home at Flaxstone before Tori spoke, if then.
But they couldn’t just go back to being the people they’d been before they got snowed in together, could they?
Then, she’d been a challenge to him—and he was pretty sure he’d just been an annoyance to her. They had the memory of their one night together, sure, but that had been five long years ago. They’d both changed since then, right? He knew for certain that he had.
And he’d changed again over the last few days. No, not him, exactly. But his understanding of who Tori was, and his strange compulsion to know her better. He couldn’t return to being just colleagues—and acrimonious ones at that.
He wanted more.
He wanted her in his bed again tonight—a bed with enough room to spread out so that when she slept snuggled in his arms he knew it was because she wanted to be there, not just to avoid falling onto the hard floor.
And he wanted her wide awake, not dreaming. Wanted her thinking of him, not a dead lover he could never compete with.
Jasper shook his head and refocussed his attention on the road. What was he doing? Imagining himself in competition with the memory of an eighteen-year-old boy he’d never met?
Tori wasn’t his girlfriend, or even his lover. She was barely even a friend.
But somehow, the last few days, she’d seemed so much more.
At the Moorside, in their snow-induced bubble of time, she’d seemed like a partner. Maybe family, even. At the bare minimum, a real friend. One he badly wanted to kiss...
Would he be able to cling onto that seed of a relationship, once they were back at Flaxstone? It felt as if the connection between them were a tiny seedling, poking its head through the snow too early, and the slightest frost could kill it off.
But Jasper was determined to nurture it and help it grow. He’d seen behind Tori’s defences now, and he wanted that woman in his life. Not the brittle, argumentative, sarcastic woman he’d seen since he’d returned—well, actually, he wanted her too. He wanted all of her.
Hell. He really was in trouble.
* * *
By the time they pulled into Flaxstone Hall it was early afternoon, and Jasper’s eyes ached from focussing on the treacherous roads and idiots who didn’t know how to drive in the snow. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his family, especially his father. But Tori had other ideas.
‘We should go and check in with the earl and give him our report from Stonebury,’ she announced, before he’d even cut the engine.
‘Now?’ he asked plaintively, as he climbed out of the car. ‘Can’t we just go back to bed first?’
She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Together?’
‘Well, preferably,’ he admitted.
With a sigh, Tori opened her own door, got out, and moved to meet him in front of the bonnet. ‘Jasper, do you want my list of reasons why that would be a bad idea alphabetically or in order of importance?’
Ouch. ‘Why don’t you just give me the top three?’ Hopefully ones he could counter with a reminder of just how good they could be in bed together. That searing kiss the night before had definitely confirmed for him that five years hadn’t stolen any of the passion that they’d shared.
But Tori lifted her hands to tick her points off on her fingers. ‘One, we need to talk to your father—like we were supposed to two days ago. He doesn’t like waiting. Two, I’ve been wearing these clothes for three days and I’m exhausted. And three, you and I both know that you’ll be running back off to the States again soon, and I’m not all that interested in being another of the background models in your peacock strut across the estate, thanks.’
‘My peacock strut?’ He didn’t have a strut. But he was pretty sure that number three was the only reason that was really stopping Tori after last night.
‘You definitely do. I had the misfortune to witness it for years with every new girl you brought home.’ She sighed. ‘Look, Jasper, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea last night. I was...upset. But I honestly believe that...giving in to anything between us again would be a bad idea. We were just caught up in the romance of being stranded in the snow.’
‘With about thirty other people,’ Jasper observed.
What was he missing here? She wouldn’t quite look him in the eye, he realised, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her. Upset or not, he knew that the attraction had been real between them last night, which meant that her reasons not to act on it must be stronger.
Was this really because he’d had plenty of girlfriends in the past? Or because she knew he was leaving soon and didn’t want a meaningless fling? Both perfectly good reasons, except...they hinted at her wanting something more.
Jasper felt suddenly warm inside, despite the icy air all around them.
He’d avoided even a hint of more for years. But with Tori...maybe it wasn’t impossible?
Or maybe she wasn’t giving him the whole reason for her reluctance. Was this to do with his romantic past—or hers?
Eight years since Tyler died and she still woke up screaming from nightmares of losing him. Maybe he was the real reason she wasn’t willing to move on, if she knew that what was between them was more than just a fling.
And now his head was starting to hurt with all the possibilities.
Rolling his eyes, he felt his usual arrogant, aristocratic demeanour taking over, the way it always did when he was confused or threatened or embarrassed. It was an automatic defence system, just like Tori’s, he supposed, if a little flimsier.
‘Fine, you don’t want to go to bed with me. But I still think bed should be top of our list of priorities today. I’d happily take going to bed solo over dealing with dear old Dad right now.’ In truth, he wanted a little more time to marshal his arguments for making Stonebury an escape for his mother. He should have been planning that while he’d been stuck at the Moorside, but he’d been a little...distracted. ‘All that entertaining kids and serving meals wears a guy out, you know.’
‘Should have known you couldn’t handle an honest day’s work,’ Tori responded tartly.
Neither of them mentioned again the lack of sleep they’d suffered the night before after her nightmares, or the staying up late sharing secrets. Tori had packed that back in its box with her vague apology for ‘giving him the wrong idea’. Already, Flaxstone had brought back the people they’d been before the Moorside Inn. He should have expected it, but it hurt all the same.
‘Really, though. Can’t reporting in wait until tomorrow? Or at least later this afternoon?’
Tori opened the car door and stepped out into the snow. ‘Time and earl wait for no man.’
Then she strode towards the imposing doors of the place Jasper used to call home, and he found himself following without deciding to.
Until he doubled back, rescued the steak and ale pies from the boot, and decided to detour past the kitchens to pop them in the fridge for later. See? Totally in control of his own life, really.
* * *
They found the earl in his study—well, once they’d stopped by the kitchens. Even Tori couldn’t argue with the fact that Henry’s pies took priority over almost everything else.
Especially over any more discussion of what had happened between them last night.
She’d been brutally honest with her three reasons for Jasper, but she couldn’t deny that she’d held one of them back.
I can’t risk falling for you when I know you’re leaving.
Already, he felt like someone new. Or rather, someone she’d hoped existed—the Jasper from the night they’d spent together. Maybe that Jasper really was there, underneath all the charm and the confidence. But she couldn’t risk letting him out—or letting him into her heart. Even if he drastically changed his playboy ways—which she doubted—he’d be going back to the States after Christmas. And Tori knew better than anyone that long-distance relationships were a tragedy waiting to happen—or at the very least a disaster.
When he’d left last time, she’d been fine, because despite her hopes she’d still known who he was. It hadn’t been a surprise that one night together was all they’d had. Leaving the country had seemed a little extreme, but whatever. Her heart had been safe.
This time...this time, he kept making paper chains and helping Uncle Henry and holding her when she cried and it was all far too much. This time, if she let herself fall any further...she feared for her heart when he went away again.
She’d spent eight years protecting her heart—from the hatred Liz and Henry would feel towards her if they knew everything about Tyler’s death, from the guilt she felt herself, and from anyone else who might try and damage it even further. She wasn’t about to stop now.
Which meant that focussing on work again for the rest of Jasper’s visit was by far the best possible plan.
The earl looked up from the papers on his desk and studied them both with that strange, scrutinising stare he’d given Tori the first day they’d met. As if he were in the audience, watching her on the stage, waiting to see what she’d do next. An observer, not involved in her life choices.
How strange that he’d look at his son the same way, she realised suddenly. Jasper must have had his reasons for leaving, after all. She’d just never managed to ask him about them.
The Earl of Flaxstone had been Tori’s benefactor since she was eighteen years old. It was a ridiculously old-fashioned term, but then, the earl was an old-fashioned kind of guy, and in the years since Tori had never been able to find a word that better described their relationship.
He’d discovered her not long before she’d left for university, when he’d stopped by the Moorside Inn. She’d been sitting outside at one of the picnic tables, studying the inn’s books, trying to find somewhere to save some money. Times and takings had been lean just then, and Henry and Liz had needed any help they could get—but Tori just hadn’t known enough to be any help at all.
She’d said as much to the earl, when he’d stopped by to ask what she was doing. She hadn’t known who he was then, of course, but her frustration had leaked out all the same. When she’d looked up to see exactly who she was talking to, she’d seen the same considering look on his face as she saw now. As if he was deciding quite what to do with her.
Last time, he’d offered a few suggestions—negotiating down the cost of some of their overheads, and other obvious things that she would have known if she hadn’t been eighteen and ignorant—then given her his card, with instructions to look him up if ever she needed a job.
She’d left for university a month later, and it had only been the following spring, after Tyler’s death, that she’d dug out the card, steeled herself, and called him. After all, by then, she’d known she couldn’t go home again. So she’d do whatever it took to find somewhere else to go.
It had been a good call. The earl had given her more than a place to go. He’d given her holiday work on the estate that summer—and all the holidays after that, which suited her perfectly. He’d offered advice and insight when she’d been deciding her course of study in her second and third years. Then, once she graduated—top of her business class—he’d offered her a better-paying and more interesting job than any of the other companies she’d interviewed for, and accommodation to boot. And not the staff dormitories, filled with sweaty students all summer, and freezing cold in the winter. Her own little cottage on the edge of the estate, to live in as she pleased.
She’d repaid his confidence in her, she thought, working her way up to become his trusted lieutenant, learning everything she could about the estate’s business and developing it further every year. The earl hadn’t exactly been a father figure to her, but he’d been a great boss, and she knew she would always owe him for the opportunities he’d given her.
Which was why she felt so damn awkward with him staring at her and Jasper this way.
‘So. You’ve returned from your little adventure, then?’ he asked, his gaze still flitting between the two of them. ‘Felix filled me in.’
‘More an inconvenience than an adventure,’ Tori replied, taking her usual seat opposite him as he indicated she should. Jasper stayed standing, ignoring the chair at his own side, and his father’s gesture to sit.
Obstinate man.
It hadn’t escaped Tori’s notice that Jasper seemed reluctant to spend any time at all with his father. In fact, she couldn’t remember even seeing them together since he’d returned. Before he’d left, she’d have always said they were quite close. Clearly something fundamental had changed.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one keeping family secrets.
‘I’d have emailed our initial report on Stonebury Hall to you,’ Tori went on, when it became obvious that Jasper had nothing to add to the conversation, ‘but the Internet connection at the Moorside has always been spotty.’ He was lucky she’d even managed to get a text message out to warn him they’d been delayed. Her call to Felix had only gone through when she was out by the road. Inside the inn calls were practically impossible. She’d seen plenty of the other guests standing up on the snow-covered picnic tables trying to get a signal.
The earl’s attention was all on her now, as if Jasper weren’t even in the room. ‘And how was the old homestead?’ he asked casually.
Tori hesitated before answering. She’d never told the earl her reasons for leaving, or for not returning. But now she wondered how much he knew. The Moorside wasn’t that far from Flaxstone, and who was to say the earl hadn’t stopped by there once or twice in the last few years? It was where she’d met him, after all. Why had that never occurred to her before?
‘It was...fine. A little crowded. There were a number of families taking shelter there. Jasper entertained the kids,’ she added, throwing him a smile.
He didn’t return it. Neither did the earl.
Right. Maybe it was better to just concentrate on business for a while.
‘So, uh, Stonebury Hall.’ She handed over her tablet with the photos she’d taken of their visit for the earl to look through while she talked. ‘It wasn’t quite as spacious as we were hoping, or perhaps that space just isn’t being used very well—I think the floor plans and photos from the agent were a little misleading. But there’s definite potential for a farm shop and café-style business, and I could see the outbuildings being used for craft stalls, or maybe even a children’s soft-play area.’
‘I disagree,’ Jasper said suddenly. ‘It’s far too small a property, b
attlements or not. It would be best used as a home. Perhaps even a family bolthole or escape, should anyone need it.’ He stared hard at his father as he spoke, while Tori gave him her own, incredulous stare. Then the pieces started to fall into place.
Of course he wanted to keep the place for himself, the entitled, selfish prat. Had she really thought she’d seen another side to him while they were at the inn? How foolish of her. At heart he was just what he’d always been. A spoilt little rich boy who thought he deserved everything and ran away when he didn’t get it.
Thank God she hadn’t given in to him.
‘I think Stonebury has far greater potential than just another holiday cottage,’ she argued. ‘The rental on such a place, probably only in season, would be far lower than if we put the whole property to work. Not to mention that my plan would make the land and the house available to local people—all of them, not just those who could afford to hire the place.’
The earl might be a quintessential aristocrat, with more land and money than anyone had any reason to expect in this world, but he’d always been enthusiastic about sharing it—to a point. The estate lands were generally open to walkers and locals, and they ran many events at the hall and gardens, as well as on the wider lands, throughout the year. Partly, Tori knew, that had begun as a way to keep the estate profitable after his father had almost run it into the ground. But with the earl’s hard work, and her help over the last few years, the Flaxstone estate and business interests were more than profitable enough that he could have closed up the metaphorical drawbridge and kept Flaxstone private again. Instead, he’d begun using it for more charitable endeavours instead of paying ones, allowing even more people to make use of the estate.
She’d asked him once why he chose to run things that way. He’d responded that the estates were a part of history, one that belonged to the whole of the British Isles. He was merely their custodian for a time.
She liked that. She liked him. And the idea that his only son and heir was trying to take the whole family and estate backwards annoyed the hell out of her.
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