A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal

by Sophie Pembroke

  ‘Come on.’ He squeezed her hand and led her slowly out onto the ice. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let go.’

  He could have got her one of the plastic penguins kids used when they were learning to skate, he supposed, but he got the feeling that Celeste hated looking incompetent or unknowledgeable as much as he did. But where he laughed his inferiority off and pretended not to care, she got prickly and defensive. He didn’t want that. So instead, he kept her close against him and held her up when she started to lose her balance.

  They made their wobbly way around the outside of the rink, ignoring the people watching from the cafe and bar at the end, hot chocolates in hand.

  ‘See?’ Theo said. ‘I told you you could do it.’

  Celeste beamed up at him. Unfortunately, she also stopped focussing on her feet, and her skates slid away underneath her. Theo grabbed her and tried to keep her upright. His stomach lurched as he felt his blades sliding, too. He could grab for the edge, but that would mean letting go of Celeste—

  They both crashed to the ice with a jarring crunch.

  ‘I knew I should have used a penguin,’ Celeste said, staring up at the night sky above them.

  ‘I reckon it would have been harder to land on than I am,’ Theo pointed out from underneath her.

  ‘True.’ She looked over at him and he was amazed to realise she was still smiling.

  ‘You don’t mind that you fell?’

  She blinked. ‘I...guess not. I mean, it was fun, even if I wasn’t very good at it.’

  ‘It was fun,’ he agreed, looking into her eyes and wondering at their depths.

  For a long moment, Celeste stared back. Then she blinked and said, ‘Come on. I think we deserve a hot chocolate.’

  ‘I reckon they agree.’ Theo nodded towards the crowd that had gathered at the side of the rink nearby, all clapping and cheering.

  Celeste froze for a moment, then relaxed as she said, ‘They recognise you.’

  ‘And probably you.’ Theo levered himself out from under Celeste, and back to a standing position. Then he reached down to pull her up beside him, bracing himself against the side of the rink.

  One arm wrapped around her waist, he bowed to their audience, pulling Celeste down with him, laughing as she did the same. He liked her like this. Close and carefree. Not caring that she looked like an idiot.

  He cared, of course he did. But he knew that the best way to deal with it was to pretend that he didn’t care. That, and a little bit of distraction...

  Swooping around, he swept Celeste into his arms, so her breasts were pressed against his chest, and her skates were barely touching the ice. God, he hoped he didn’t fall again now. That really would be humiliating.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, her voice a low murmur.

  ‘Giving our audience what they really want,’ he replied.

  Lowering his lips to hers, Theo finally did what he’d been wanting to do since the moment they met at the restaurant, and kissed her. Properly, this time. With tongue.

  Somewhere, Theo decided, as whoops went up from the crowd and cameras flashed, Cerys would be having an apoplexy.

  Then he lost the ability to think about anything at all except kissing Celeste.

  He didn’t miss it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THEO MONTGOMERY WAS kissing her.

  Not like that perfunctory hello kiss at the restaurant; this was a real, no-holds-barred kiss. The sort that would definitely send her sprawling over the ice again if he weren’t holding her up. Since that brief, hello kiss at the restaurant had scrambled her brains for a good half an hour, she dreaded to think what this one would do.

  It’s all for show. Remember that. He’s just playing up to his audience.

  But it felt real. That was the problem.

  The aches and bruises that covered her body from her fall were rapidly being replaced by other, far more pleasant, sensations. Tingly ones, that reminded her it had been far, far too long since she’d had anyone but herself to keep her company at night. Warm ones, that drove away the chill of a winter night. Hopeful ones, that never wanted these other feelings to end...

  Theo pulled away, and Celeste just about resisted the urge to grab his head and pull his mouth back to hers. Mostly because if she let go of his body even for a moment she was pretty sure she was going to fall over again.

  The crowd gave up one last, loud cheer, and then dispersed.

  ‘Hot chocolate?’ Theo asked, as if nothing had happened at all. As if he hadn’t just rocked the foundations of her happy, solitary life by reminding her of all the good things that happened in pairs.

  And no, she wasn’t talking about the ice skating.

  ‘That would be great,’ she managed. ‘And I think I’d like my real shoes back, please.’

  She needed solid ground under her feet again. Literally and metaphorically.

  The bar and cafe at the end of the rink were packed with people, but Theo managed to smile their way to a window seat just as another couple were leaving. He disappeared, leaving her looking out over the ice and the castle alone, until he returned with their hot chocolates. It was enough time, at least, for Celeste to bring her brain back down to earth, which she appreciated.

  ‘So, how did you like your first ice-skating experience?’ Theo placed her steaming mug, topped with whipped cream, a flake, and mini marshmallows, on the counter in front of her.

  Celeste beamed at the sickly sweet concoction. Hot chocolate was, in her opinion, the best part of the festive season.

  ‘Worth it for this,’ she answered, because she wasn’t about to tell him that the other best part of this particular festive season was kissing him.

  All a show, she reminded herself. She really couldn’t afford to forget that.

  They drank their hot chocolates in companionable silence as, outside, visitors spun around the rink on their skates, all in the shadow of the ancient castle looming above them. Even Celeste had to admit it was pretty magical.

  ‘You’re thinking again,’ Theo said, his voice low and rumbly and incredibly distracting. ‘More ghost stories about the tower?’

  Celeste shook her head. ‘I was just thinking how nice it is to see the modern world interacting with history this way. I didn’t think it would be, somehow.’ She’d assumed that using historical places this way would diminish them, somehow. Probably because of a lifetime of her parents stressing the value and importance of historic and archaeological sites in their own right, for research and learning, for academics who would publish long, often boring papers on them.

  And they were important, of course. Those historical sources and places were how she’d built her career. She wanted them to be treasured and looked after.

  But she wondered now if they couldn’t be used, too. Tourists traipsing over the Acropolis in Greece might not do much to preserve it or improve the experts’ knowledge of the ancient world. But they would increase those tourists’ knowledge. And they’d share that knowledge with their kids, their families.

  Her father might grumble as another historic site opened its doors to people who hadn’t studied the period as he had, didn’t understand what they were seeing. He might claim it was all for the money, but the money was what paid for the research to happen.

  More importantly, the interest had to be there. If people didn’t care about the history of a place, why would they pay for it to be preserved and studied?

  All stuff she’d known academically. But here, watching history meld happily with the modern world, she felt that she understood it, rather than just knowing.

  There was the world of difference.

  This is what I want to do with my TV show. Bring history to life.

  ‘I like it,’ Theo said, simply. ‘I like that our city has such a fascinating past, and I like most that it’s not locked away there. That
we can see it, experience it every day, just living here.’

  She’d lived in London her whole life, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever just enjoyed the place. She’d either been studying or living. Never both at the same time.

  She thought she might want to, though. With Theo.

  ‘I think...this is what I want my new show to be,’ she said, slowly. ‘A way of bringing history beside the modern day. Of making it real to people, not abstract.’

  That was the part her parents didn’t, couldn’t understand. For them, it was another world—one they’d rather live in than this one.

  But Celeste wanted both. She just hadn’t realised it until now.

  ‘I think that sounds brilliant,’ Theo said. ‘I can’t wait to watch it.’

  ‘If they commission it,’ Celeste replied. ‘It’s still not a sure thing.’

  ‘Ah, Aesop’s chickens, huh?’ Theo grinned. ‘Not counting them before they hatch.’

  ‘That’s right.’ She tilted her head as she studied him, a surprising thought coalescing in her brain.

  ‘What?’ he asked, his expression suddenly nervous.

  ‘Tell me the truth. You’re a bit of a history buff, aren’t you?’

  His gaze slid away from hers. ‘It’s an interesting topic. I’m interested in lots of things.’

  Celeste knew she couldn’t read Theo the way she read Rachel, or even Damon. But she was starting to get a feel for him—and not just in the kissing way. There was something more here. He couldn’t fake his way out of this, not with her.

  ‘You’d heard me on history shows on the radio often enough to ask me onto that quiz show.’

  ‘I thought you’d be an interesting addition.’ He tossed her a smirk. ‘Look how right I was.’

  ‘Did you really come on a school trip to the Tower of London?’

  Theo paused for a second, then shook his head. ‘No. I came as a tourist last summer.’

  ‘Because you’re a history buff.’

  ‘Because I was writing an essay about it for my history degree.’

  Celeste blinked. Okay, maybe she couldn’t read him at all, because she definitely hadn’t seen that one coming.

  ‘You’re studying history?’ she asked.

  ‘Part-time.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s no big deal.’

  But it was, she could see that in the tension of his shoulders, the way he wouldn’t look at her.

  This was Theo behind the smile, behind the fakery.

  ‘Does anyone else know you’re doing it?’

  His gaze shot up to meet hers at that. ‘No. And... I’d appreciate it...’

  ‘I won’t tell anyone.’ She smiled. ‘But I think it’s wonderful.’

  ‘You do? For all you know I could be rubbish at it.’

  Celeste had had rubbish students before. Ones who didn’t show up for lectures, or never turned in essays. Ones who only cared about the university experience, not the studying.

  If Theo was doing this in his own time, on top of a full-time job, when he really didn’t have to...he was doing it for the love of the subject.

  And that she most definitely understood.

  She smiled at him, and lifted her half-empty mug for him to toast with his own.

  ‘What are we toasting to?’ he asked.

  ‘To you, and your studies.’

  ‘How about to you, and your new show?’ he countered.

  ‘Fine. To bringing history to life, and into the present.’

  ‘Works for me.’ He drank, leaving a hot chocolate moustache on his upper lip, which he licked off. Celeste tried to pretend that the action didn’t make her heat up again.

  ‘Now,’ he said, when he’d finished. ‘Important question for you. How do you feel about Sunday lunch with my parents?’

  * * *

  It was hard for Theo to express quite how much he didn’t want to be here. From the way Celeste was watching him, though, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, he had a feeling she understood, at least a little.

  Taking a breath, he opened the door of the car. ‘Ready?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be,’ she joked, but he could barely bring himself to smile in return.

  Why had he done this? The only thing he could think was that the kiss on the rink had addled his brain to the point where he’d not only told her he was studying history, for heaven’s sake, but also forgotten all the perfectly good reasons why he shouldn’t take Celeste to meet his parents.

  Starting with, if he didn’t want to be there, why should she?

  But it was more than that, of course. While he had no doubt his parents would be nice enough to Celeste, he couldn’t hope to say the same about how they’d be towards him.

  Still, he forced himself not to actively grimace as he helped Celeste out of the car and took her arm. Her dark hair was down today, for once, and it moved in the winter breeze before settling on her white coat.

  Any other woman of his acquaintance, coming to meet his parents for the first time, would have asked him what to wear. Not Celeste. He had no doubt that under that coat was an all-black outfit—although a dress or skirt rather than jeans, given the tights she was wearing with her boots today. Her lips were bright red, like Snow White’s, and he wanted to kiss them. For courage, perhaps.

  Or just because he’d been dreaming of them since he last touched them with his own.

  Celeste stared up at Sorrelton House, its many chimneys jutting up into the grey winter sky. ‘This is where you grew up?’

  Theo tried to imagine seeing the place for the first time. He couldn’t remember when he had, of course. He’d been born within its walls, and some days it felt as if he’d never left.

  It was a large house. No, that was an understatement. It was unnecessarily huge, for the three of them living there when he was a child, and for his two parents now. Even if he added the live-in staff, which was down to only a few long-standing employees, it was too big. He remembered them closing up the East Wing when he was a child; he didn’t think it had ever been opened up again since.

  ‘Yep,’ he said, succinctly. ‘Come on.’

  It was because they didn’t have a real title, he supposed, that his parents insisted on all the grandeur. They were minor, minor aristocracy, but even that small amount made a difference. They couldn’t live like ordinary people, could they? But they didn’t have the land or inheritances to live like lords, either.

  Theo wasn’t sure anyone could afford to live at Sorrelton House these days, the way it had been designed to be lived in. After so many years, the place was a complete money pit.

  He didn’t bother ringing the doorbell; it would only risk giving Jenkins a heart attack, and it took him forever to get up to the main door from the kitchen, where he spent most of his time gossiping with Mrs Harrow. So instead, he led Celeste around to the side entrance, the one nearest the stables, and slipped in that way. At least he knew that Celeste wouldn’t be the least bit interested in the pomp and circumstance of the main entrance hall anyway.

  Except in her very own Celeste-like way, of course.

  ‘It’s Georgian, right?’ she asked, pausing to examine the brickwork as they rounded the corner to the side entrance.

  ‘I believe so.’ His voice sounded tight, even to his own ears. Celeste didn’t seem to hear it, though.

  ‘Do you know much about the history of the place? Before your family came here, I mean?’ She paused. ‘Unless it’s always been in the family? Are you one of those families?’

  ‘No. My great-grandfather bought it, I believe. Before that, I’m not sure. I imagine my father could tell you, if you really want to know.’

  He didn’t—want to know, that was. He never had—not since he was a child. His father had made clear that the house was a responsibility, and obligation—one he never expected Theo to be capable of fulfi
lling to his satisfaction.

  So, no. He didn’t want to know about the history of Sorrelton House. He wanted to get through this lunch and get back out again, as smoothly and as quickly as possible. That was all.

  Celeste was watching him now, curiosity and maybe even concern in her eyes. Theo turned away, fumbled open the door and strode into the house proper. If he moved fast enough, maybe the memories wouldn’t hit him so hard.

  ‘Theo? Is that you?’ His mother’s voice echoed down the empty hallways; she might be getting older, but her hearing was still as sharp as it had ever been. Maria Montgomery had always been able to hear a whispered insult or a secret from a good hundred yards. Apparently, it was still her super power.

  ‘Yes, we’re here, Mother.’

  Reaching out blindly behind him, he somehow found Celeste’s hand and gripped it firmly in his own. They’d agreed on the drive out of London how they’d play this. A new couple, yes, but nothing serious. He didn’t want his parents getting any ideas about marriage or anything—not least, because he knew that Celeste wouldn’t be their first choice for him. Or second or third, come to that.

  After all, she was only beautiful, intelligent, funny and, against the odds, mostly a nice person.

  ‘Where’s the money, Theo? Or at least a title? Come on, boy, try harder. That was always your problem—you just never tried hard enough.’

  He could almost hear his father saying the words in his head.

  Really, what was the point of coming home to be berated by him, when he could do it perfectly well for himself?

  ‘There you are!’ Maria burst into the main hall at the same time Theo and Celeste reached it. ‘We were starting to think you’d got lost. Or forgotten.’

  ‘Are we late?’ Celeste asked, confused. ‘I thought you said one, Theo?’ He saw her glance at the grandfather clock, as it chimed quarter to one.

  Theo didn’t answer. Maria didn’t bother either as, of course, they were actually early. Five years ago, maybe he’d have second-guessed himself, thought he’d got the time wrong. He knew better now. But how could Theo explain to Celeste that his mother just liked to start with them at a disadvantage, any way she could?