Christmas With the Laird
Page 11
Her stomach gave the obligatory necessary rumble. She’d been so busy trying not to burn things she’d forgotten about eating since breakfast.
She pushed a bit of hair off her face. “I think I’ll go and freshen up first. Can you keep an eye on the turkey? In twenty minutes time the oven should go off and we need to bring it out to rest.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
She shook her head as she walked past. “I have absolutely no idea. Just make sure the wine’s chilled by the time I’m back.”
It only took ten minutes to change out of her fluffy jumper and jeans, have a quick wash and freshen up her makeup. She had one thing left she could wear – a black dress she’d saved for filming. It hadn’t been appropriate for first thing this morning, but they were heading towards Christmas lunch, it was certainly appropriate now. It was pretty with black lace across the shoulders and arms. Not too over the top. At least she’d looked as if she’d make an effort to match him.
She walked back along the corridor. A few of the doors were open instead of being tightly closed. She gave a half-smile. Had the ghosts been at work? She didn’t think so. She felt so much more comfortable now.
This was a beautiful, historic house. It had been neglected for far too long. It was time to put that to rights. It was time to talk to Andrew.
Talking about the house might mean they didn’t talk about anything else. It might mean they avoided the growing attraction between them. But the truth was, she really didn’t want to do that.
In a few days they’d both be back in London. Would Andrew Campbell in London be different to the Andrew Campbell she’d got to know at Garnock Hall?
No matter how professional she tried to keep things, or how much she tried to stay at arm’s length, it was becoming harder and harder. Being around Andrew felt so right. She’d never felt like this around Rod. Never felt so in tune with someone before.
She pulled her dress down a little and hurried to the top of the stairs. She reached out and touched the portrait of Elizabeth Campbell in her stiff pink dress. “This should be a happy place, Elizabeth. I’m hoping to help make it that way.”
The lentil soup was sitting on the table with some bread and a glass of wine. She sat opposite Andrew and he lifted the glass. “To Christmas at Garnock Hall. Merry Christmas, Juliette.”
She clinked glasses with him. She couldn’t break eye contact with those warm green eyes. “Merry Christmas, Andrew. Thank you for sharing Garnock Hall with me.”
He picked up his spoon. “So, honestly, what do you think of the place?”
She lifted up a spoonful of soup, letting it cool a few seconds before finally trying it. It was perfect. Like every homemade soup her gran had ever made for her. “Wow, Andrew. You could win a prize for this soup. You’re obviously a man of hidden talents.”
His eyebrows rose and the smile he gave her in return was decidedly wicked.
She took a deep breath. It was time to get things out there. It was just the two of them. “I love Garnock Hall. At first glance it’s quite a brooding place.”
“Brooding? I’ve never heard it called that.”
She shrugged. “What word would you like? Imposing? Ominous? It’s all of those things. The gothic architecture is quite overwhelming. Film crews would love it. You must know that.”
He nodded slowly. He was watching her. Watching her eat. It could have felt intimidating, instead it felt quite sexy. She waved her spoon at him. “Once you get inside here, the whole place is just overwhelming. There’s so much potential here. So much you could do with this place.” She sat her spoon down again. “Garnock Hall shouldn’t be empty, Andrew. It should be filled with people, filled with life. It needs it. It deserves it.”
His eyes met hers and he gave a slow, silent nod. “You could be right. But I’ve no idea what do with the place.”
“Why don’t you look into some of the suggestions I gave you earlier. One of the US TV channels has just put out location calls for a period drama set in the UK. Darnbridge Abbey, I think they’re calling it. Garnock Hall could be perfect. Think of the night time location shots – they would be spectacular – and the staircase in the house, and the kitchen would be perfect.”
A smile started to appear on his face. “You could be right. I saw that call for location possibilities. It just hadn’t even occurred to me that Garnock Hall could be suitable. But you’re right. The roof repairs will be enormous. Allowing filming here could pay for that alone. It might even allow me to refurbish some of the other rooms.”
“And what about weddings, have you thought about that?”
“You really think anyone would want to get married here?”
She held out her hands. “This place is gorgeous. It has so much character.” She leaned forward, “And think about the privacy aspect. You have all these grounds. Room for a marquee. Plenty of parking and enough rooms for lots of guests.”
He raised his eyebrows, “Rooms that are dusty, likely a bit dirty and haven’t been aired in years.”
“Nothing that isn’t manageable.”
He looked deep in thought as he lifted their soup bowls from the table and carried them over to the sink.
The turkey was sitting on the worktop and the potatoes were in the oven. “How about we have dinner through in the dining room where the Christmas tree is? Make it more festive.”
She opened the drawers and lifted out some silver cutlery, napkins and plate settings. “That sounds perfect. Let me put these on the table before we take the turkey through.”
It only took five minutes to finish the gravy on the stove top and put the vegetables into serving dishes.
She switched on the tree lights and left the curtains open. Andrew carried the turkey through and set it on the table. “It’s perfect, Andrew. I can’t believe we actually managed to make a Christmas dinner between us.”
“We’re a good team. A good partnership.”
She felt little tingles shoot down her spine. His green eyes were fixed on hers. “Yes. We are.”
Neither of them had sat down. She didn’t want to. No matter how good the food looked on the table, her mind was in other places.
“I’ve really enjoyed being here, Andrew. I’ve liked the chance to get to know you too. To find out more about you, and your family.”
“I’ve liked having you here too.” His voice was husky. His brain was obviously going the same places that hers was. He paused for a second, “Juliette, would you consider coming back?”
“Will you ask me?” It was like ping pong in a kiddie’s playground.
“If I did, would you say yes?”
Back and forth. Back and forth. Her heart was thudding against her chest. Her breathing quickening. “I would.”
And then he moved, covering the space so quickly between them that she barely had time to think. Because he was there, pulling her hard against him, his lips devouring hers. It took her breath away. She’d only waited a few days for this but it felt like forever.
The anticipation, the expectation was nothing compared to the final event.
Her hands threaded through his hair, willing him closer to her as her hips pressed hard against his. His hands were pressed firmly on her backside, anchoring him against her. He was just as determined that nothing should get between them.
The intensity of the kiss didn’t change as he turned around and lifted her up on the table. Her legs wound around his waist, ignoring the fact her dress was riding up. There was no one else to see them. There was no one to see the passion between them.
She pulled her hands from his hair and ran them across the hard planes of his chest. She didn’t hesitate. Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt and she quickly undid them, sliding her hands underneath the warm cotton.
It had only been a few days, but waiting had felt like an eternity. She heard his sharp intake of breath as her fingers slid across his skin and hovered above his waistband.
His hand was edging unde
r her dress. Dinner was forgotten. Completely forgotten.
He pulled back a little. “Juliette, would you like to go upstairs?” he whispered in her ear as his hand took hers.
She smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Eleven
‡
Night had fallen while they’d been distracted. The curtains were open in Andrew’s room, leaving a pitch-black sky with a few twinkling stars.
Her head was resting on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. Things couldn’t be more perfect.
His stomach growled loudly, reminding them both they’d missed dinner. He laughed. “I think I still have a turkey to carve.”
She lifted her head, her blonde curls falling in front of her face. “I’ve always liked cold Christmas dinner. There’s something so good about it.”
He sat up and handed her his dressing gown to wrap around her. The temperature had fallen in the house again. “I guess I’m going to have to do something about the heating if other people are going to stay here.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head.
“I guess you are.” She was staring at the door, as if she was thinking about something else.
“What is it?”
Her stomach rumbled loudly and she laughed. “Oh. Sorry. I hate to say it, Andrew. But I’m starving.”
He held out his hand. “How would like to have Christmas dinner wearing only a guy’s dressing gown?”
She smiled as she stood. Her toes weren’t quite as cold as before. Just the way he was smiling at her was keeping her warm. “I think that’s something I haven’t tried before. I’m always open to trying something new.”
He led her down the corridor towards the stairs, her heart thumping the whole way.
In the space of a few short days she’d felt an instant and lasting attraction to Andrew Campbell. Seeing him here, in his family home, and knowing how hard he’d found things had opened a whole new side of the man she’d worked with for the last few years.
All she wanted to do was comfort him. All she wanted to do was make him feel better. But she’d no idea what would happen from this point. Although Andrew’s actions told her how he might feel about her, he hadn’t actually said those words.
He pulled out a chair and sat at the table while he whistled, sticking the two-prong fork in the turkey breast and cutting slowly with the carving knife. His eyes met hers. She could sense his hesitation. Part of her wanted to shout out Just say it, Andrew. But the rest of her knew to take a deep breath and be patient.
“I guess we’ve both seen things in the last few days that have been unexpected.”
Her eyes drifted to the scene outside. The snow-covered fields, leading to the woods without a single footprint marring the perfect scene. What if this was the last time she ever saw that?
It was the strangest feeling. She felt so connected with this place. The thought of never looking out of these windows brought tears to her eyes.
“I guess we have,” she whispered, her voice breaking a little.
He set down the carving knife and walked behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and looking at the outside view with her.
“You’re right, Juliette,” he whispered in her ear. “You were right about everything. I just needed someone to be here and tell me that. I needed someone to be in Garnock Hall with me, to experience it. To know how hard it would be to walk away.”
She rested back, leaning her body against his, letting the heat of his body warm hers. “You shouldn’t leave Garnock Hall. You can’t leave Garnock Hall.”
“But I can’t transform this place on my own.” He moved around in front of her, kneeling on the floor.
“What are you trying to say?” She couldn’t help the tremble in her voice.
He was biting his lips, staring at a point past her shoulder. “Do you really think there are ghosts in Garnock Hall?”
The question was unexpected. But that was her fault. She should have known at some point they would have to have this conversation. She laid her hands on his chest. “I’ve never been sure. Not in any of the places we’ve visited.” She looked around her. “But this place? I just don’t know, Andrew. I can’t say. I feel comfortable here now. I don’t feel worried, I don’t feel anxious. But I definitely feel something.”
“How would you feel about spending some more time here? About helping me transform this place?”
Her mouth was instantly dry. She knew what she hoped he was saying, but she had to hear it for herself.
“What are you asking me, Andrew? You’ve got me so confused these last few days I need you to spell it out for me.”
He lifted one hand and wound his fingers through her hair, cradling the back of her head with his palm. “I’m saying that I don’t want to do this alone. I want to do this with you. I want you to be here with me every day while we transform this place. Garnock Hall deserves some happy memories again, Juliette, and I want to make them with you. How do you feel about coming up here every few weeks with me and helping with the transformation? Garnock Hall should be a home again, Juliette, that’s what I want you to help me make.”
She was trembling. Every part of her was trembling.
“Are you sure, Andrew? Are you ready?”
He nodded. “I’m ready.” He traced a finger down her cheek. “All I need is for you to say yes. I love you, Juliette. I don’t want to do this with anyone else. Only you.”
He pulled her over to the Christmas tree so the twinkling lights were behind him. There couldn’t be a more perfect setting. “Can you handle some more Scottish winters and wonky heating?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think I can handle pretty much anything if you’re by my side. I love you, Andrew. And I can’t wait for us to bring some happy memories back to Garnock Hall.”
He bent forward and kissed her just as the lights flickered around them.
She laughed. “I think that’s a yes,” she whispered.
“Merry Christmas, Juliette,” he whispered. There was a gleam in his eye. “There are a few other Scottish words I might need to introduce you to….”
Epilogue
‡
ONE YEAR LATER
“Are you ready to face the crowds, Lady Campbell of Garnock Hall?”
Juliette let out a nervous laugh, adjusting her fitted cream wedding gown with tartan sash. “I’ll never get used to that.”
Andrew beamed as he threw open the doors to the refurbished ballroom. “Well it’s too late now.” He winked. “Can’t run across the fields in that dress.”
She let out a gasp as their friends and family gave a roar of approval at the newlyweds. He hadn’t let her see the ballroom in its final stages and as the music started to play he led her out onto the dance floor and spun her around.
Christmas trees were in each corner of the room along with flashing multi-coloured lights strung above the windows overlooking the gardens.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, her dark blue sapphire and diamond ring twinkling next to her new gold ring.
His smile reached from ear to ear. The last year had brought a whole host of good memories to Garnock Hall. “It’s only fitting that we have the first wedding – give this place a trial run.”
Juliette grinned as he kept spinning her around. She could see the faces as she whipped past – her mother, father, sister and kids. Mrs McGregor from the shop – who, for once, had a smile on her face, Bert King from the hardware store and Rudy from the butchers. The whole village had turned out for their Scottish Laird’s wedding.
“We’ve only got a few days alone together. The film crew arrive next week.” He slowed his steps and bent to kiss his bride. “Happy, Mrs Campbell?”
“Couldn’t be happier,” she said quietly. “I told you this place could pay for itself.”
“I know. Is this going to be a habit of a lifetime – a wife who is always right?”
She laughed. “Oh, I hope so.” She stood on her tiptoes a
nd whispered into his ear. “But I’ll let you into a secret. Those few days, we won’t be entirely alone…” She let her voice trail off.
It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. His eyes widened. “Really? Already? But I haven’t even started on the nursery.”
She trailed her finger down his jaw. “Best get started soon. Garnock Hall is about to get busy.”
He picked her up and spun her around again. “Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”
“I’ll hold you to that – for at least the next fifty years.” She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face, or the swell from her heart.
“Done.” And then he kissed her again and again and again…
The End
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About the Author
Scarlet Wilson wrote her first story aged 8 and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for over 20 years, training as a nurse and a health visitor, and now currently works within public health. Writing romances is a dream come true for Scarlet and she’s published with Harlequin Mills and Boon, Tule Publishing and Entangled Publishing. Scarlet lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached via her website www.scarlet-wilson.com.
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