Thirty minutes later, Lady Shiley prepared to play her part as the dunderhead who'd left the suds in the ceiling—and it was not much of a stretch at all, considering her pivotal role in the debacle. She was considering just how to handle the situation as Kafi brought warm scones and hot tea to Pippa.
He knocked gently on the partially ajar door to Glynis's flat.
“Come in.”
Kafi entered with a warm smile as Pippa hit pause on White Christmas.
Kafi approached her. “Some toasty refreshments while Glynis launders your clothes.” He set everything on the coffee table right in front of the sofa where Pippa sat curled up.
“Thanks.” Pippa picked up a scone and bit into it. “Mmmm. Want one?”
“No, thanks. All for you.” And Kafi just stood there, watching her. She looked so cute, cuddled under a warm blanket, eating scones and watching the gem of all Christmas movies. This was a bit of Christmas magic, wasn't it?
Pippa looked at him looking at her. “Uh … want to watch White Christmas with me?”
But before Kafi could answer, Maisy rushed into the room.
“Oh, Pippa!” Lady Shiley threw herself on her knees next to where Pippa sat. “This is all my fault. Take the rest of today and tomorrow off with full pay.”
Pippa put down her tea cup. “Thanks. But when my clothes are done and the movie's over, it's back to work. The Christmas Ball is hard on our heels.”
“Well,” Maisy said, “bonus money, then. And … and … and … anything you want in the way of Christmas decorations for your flat, just ask. I can send a crew down there right now to really make the place festive while you stay here and watch your movie. What do you say?”
Pippa smiled, surprised at Maisy's regret and ardor. “It's okay, Maisy. I was pretty mad when it happened. It was a shock. But this is nice. And what? Decorate my place? Okay. That'd be nice, actually. I've got a few pieces out, but no tree. Maybe a tree … and some snow globes? Oh, but I've got two cats.” Her eyes got wide. “That's okay isn't it? To have the cats in the flat? They were strays that I rescued—”
Maisy smiled. “Yes, yes. Of course it's okay,” she said, beaming. “What are there names?”
“Patricia and Thunder.”
“I like it. But will they cause trouble, do you think, if I send a few guys in with a tree?”
“They might get scared and they bolt when they get scared. They get out sometimes, so here's the trick. Just knock really loudly on the door, then rush in and close it quickly. They'll run and hide when they hear the knocking.”
And so Lady Shiley, a woman burdened with the blame of causing a most idiotic mishap, managed in one fell swoop to appease the doused girl and to give Kafi just the chance he wanted to make her flat festive and bright.
Maisy felt relieved that now she could spend the next few days focusing on getting the estate ready for her first ever Drakenfall Christmas Ball. And the only sneaky thing she would have to manage would be avoiding Mark and his questioning looks.
Chapter 27: The Pleasure of Doing Nothing
The next two days at Drakenfall flashed by in a tizzying blur as everyone below stairs worked more industriously and just as cheerfully as North Pole elves.
Glynis encountered Fletcher a good deal, but neither had even a moment to exchange pleasantries with the other. Twice or thrice, perhaps, their eyes met through the hubbub, and once he smiled at her. Or did she smile at him?
Kafi decided to forgo any more clandestine attempts to delight Pippa, for her own safety, and he chose instead simply to offer her a Christmas chocolate if he got the chance or open a door for her when he could or hum the first carol he could think of when she was close by. But he had to confess that his generosity of spirit seemed to befuddle her, if anything.
Mark saw very little of Maisy, but on two occasions, he'd caught sight of her when she hadn't known he'd been looking. They'd been quiet moments when she'd thought she'd been alone and she'd let a cloud so dark steal across her face that it made Mark's gut clench. Something was wrong. And she wasn't telling him what it was.
On the morning of the ball, Lea relaxed with what looked like perfect repose as she did her best to avoid Jamie. For the second day running, she'd taken breakfast alone in her room and Jamie hadn't even tried to ferret her out. He hadn't even knocked. Not once.
Lea sighed as she turned a page in the old book. The small room behind the gallery was snug and relaxing and she had it all to herself.
“You look cozy.”
Lea gasped when she heard his voice. “You startled me!” She looked up to see Jamie in the doorway. But she knew that startled didn't quite cover the tiny zing she felt now that he had tracked her down.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling at her as he took a seat on the opposite couch. “I want to ask you about the ball tonight.”
Lea caught her breath. “What about it?”
“You're going?”
“Of course,” she said on a laugh. “I wouldn't miss it.”
“Would you go down with me? You know, enter the ball with me? I'd be honoured.”
Lea eyed him curiously. “I might even save a dance for you.”
Jamie smiled. “Right. See you at seven?”
“Seven.”
“Great.” But Jamie didn't leave the room. He remained sitting across from Lea and her book.
“Jamie. Please. I don't want to talk.”
He kicked off his shoes and stretched out along his sofa. “Me neither.”
Just then, Pippa arrived bearing a silver tray holding a delicate bowl of fruit and a pitcher of ice water with cut crystal glasses. “Here you go.” And she set the refreshments on the coffee table. “Ah, look at you there, Ms. Sinclair. You should be in front of the camera, looking like you do.”
“In front of the camera?” Lea shuddered. She hadn't meant to, and she noticed Jamie notice. So she laughed. “Thank you Pippa. You're so sweet. And I think, perhaps, my biggest fan. But I'm not tall enough.”
Pippa stood at attention, holding her empty tray. “Well, then, it all worked out, didn't it? You take the nicest pictures.” She turned to Jamie. “Anything else?”
Jamie shook his head. “Thank you, no.”
“Well, then.” And with a smile she was gone.
Lea looked across to Jamie as she gestured at the bowl of fruit. “May I?”
“It's for you.”
“Thank you.” Lea took a strawberry out of the bowl and bit into it as she picked up her book and read on. In less than a minute, she looked up to Jamie, who may or may not have been watching her. “What are you doing?” she demanded.
He stretched his arms above his head. “Nothing,” he said on an irrepressible smile. “Absolutely nothing, and it feels fantastic. I never get to do nothing.”
Lea angled her head. “You came to find me just so you could do nothing?”
He nodded. “Sure. I like doing nothing with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now there's a compliment for my hope chest.”
“It is, really,” he said.
“It is what?”
“A compliment. To like doing nothing with someone.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It is. Or else how do you know someone likes spending time with you? If you're doing something fun together, then they might just like doing something fun, and you're just the gravy.”
Her brows shot up. “I'm gravy now, am I?”
“Come on, you know what I mean. You must know people who seemed so perfect for each other when they were dating, but then they fell out as soon as the courtship phase calmed down and the merry-go-round stopped. Sometimes doing nothing with the wrong person can make life pretty tiresome.”
“But we're not dating.”
“I'm just giving an example. Do try to keep up.”
“Don't be a brat.”
He closed his eyes, smiling. “You bring it out in me.”
“I push your buttons, do I?”
“Somethin
g like that.”
Lea poured herself some water and drank. “Jamie,” she began. “How is it that you're here, doing nothing, in the first place? I would have thought you'd be in Barking and Dagenham, celebrating the holidays with all your … people.”
“You know,” he said, opening his eyes and looking at her, “I help a lot of people. Not for any payback, but just because it's what I do. People tell me I'm their saviour, I'm an angel. Some people tell me to just ask if I ever need anything.”
“Yeah, okay. So?”
“So, I called in every single favour I could to make sure the Family Centre is well staffed and festive over Christmas. All so I could come here.”
“You called in every favour?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You cashed in all your chips?” she said, still trying to clarify.
“I did.” He turned to lay on his side, to face her more fully. “Two weeks of time to do nothing at one of the most beautiful spots in England? So many people never get to do something like this. Ever. This is a once in a lifetime chance. I wanted it, so I made it happen.”
Lea popped another strawberry into her mouth, green leaves and all. “Hm.”
“You know, Pippa's right.”
Lea swallowed. “About?”
“You take amazing pictures. You've got a very keen eye.”
Lea laughed. “You've seen my work?”
“Sure. I love your pictures.”
“Are you a secret—and I mean VERY secret—fashionista?”
“Hey. Cardigans and pullovers will always be in fashion. Always. And anyway, it's not the clothes that look so incredible. It's the sense you capture.”
“And what sense is that?”
Jamie considered. “The sense of … not regret, exactly. All your pictures have the person looking as if she, or he, just missed something. Like something got away from them. Some feeling is just out of reach. But they want it. It's amazing, really. You must take hundreds of shots, and out of all of them, you find the ones that slice right through you with an essence of … what could be.”
Lea didn't say anything.
Jamie sighed. “So, after Drakenfall, where're you jetting off to for the next big shoot?”
Now Lea stretched along her smaller couch. “Nothing scheduled. I'm taking a break. I'm taking some … time.”
“Oh?”
“Since my mother died ...” Lea looked across at Jamie as they both stretched along their opposite couches. His open, honest face was full of … well, nothing. He was just Jamie. No judgement, no opinions, no take on the matter. He was just there. “I think ...” she continued, “I think I always wanted to impress her with my cosmopolitan career.” She shook her head. “I know I did. Always flying high, never landing long enough for her to … well.” Lea took a deep breath. “All the excitement I've always felt for the job, it's been different since the summer. So, I'm taking a break.”
“Putting down the camera for a bit?”
Lea nodded. “Maybe … I just want to land somewhere.”
“Drakenfall's not a bad place for it.” Jamie's eyes drifted shut.
Lea pulled a soft throw over her and watched Jamie sleep.
Chapter 28: The Google Translator
Mark dressed early for the Ball, knowing from years past that once the hum of activity started buzzing as darkness fell before five o'clock, he wouldn't get the chance to run upstairs to change before the earliest guests began arriving at seven. So he was turned out in his best tuxedo, striding up the grand staircase at 4:45 with the intention of hunting down Maisy when he stopped in his tracks.
“Maisy.” His voice scarcely rasped the word out. He felt struck as if by lightning by the sight of her standing there on the landing, so unexpectedly resplendent at this hour. Her wildly curled hair was piled up rakishly on her head and her strapless ruby gown allowed him to see her strong, straight shoulders and the barest hint of cleavage. And no jewellery. Not on his Maisy.
He slowly walked up the stairs to join her.
“Shall we?” His voice was soft as he held out his hand to take hers. Her hand slid into his, and still he felt the thrill of her touch. Together, they descended the grand staircase … into the chaos.
They had barely stepped one toe each onto the marble tiles of the grand hall before Kafi came rushing up to them. “Bus is finally here. Out back at the kitchen entrance.”
“Perfect.” Maisy's eyes sparked with anticipation. She gave Mark's hand a squeeze and off she and Kafi ran.
She actually ran.
God, Mark loved that about her. Maisy was always ready to take action, whether she was wearing jeans, pyjamas, or a ball gown over four-inch heels. She just did what needed to be done and it didn't matter what she was wearing. Because Maisy was so comfortable in her own skin. Or, at least, she always had been.
But of late …
Oh, bother!
It didn't matter tonight. Maisy was in command, in action, and in control. Whatever had been dogging her was pushed to the back of the cupboard for the night.
Mark headed to the gallery to make sure all was set up when, as he crossed the front hall, he heard the door chimes.
The door chimes.
Nobody ever tugged on the bell pull and rang the door chimes. Well, it was very rare. Guests were ushered into Drakenfall initially and simply came and went at their leisure after that. Deliveries went around back. Friendly calls went around back or just walked in the front.
Mark turned on his heel, almost knocking into the purposefully bustling Matt and the hectically hurrying Finola.
“Sorry!” they all said at once.
Mark headed to the foyer.
When he opened the door wide onto the winter evening, he saw a man and a woman, middling to poorly dressed. Middle-aged, maybe older. A haggard look about them. Carollers? Alms for the poor? Lost chaperones with the kids from Grant Street?
“Hullo,” Mark said, in a cheerful greeting.
A gust of wind blasted them with frigid air and sent snow blowing onto the floor.
“Come in, come in,” Mark rushed to say, ushering them inside with a smile.
The pair still didn't say anything. But they looked at him with eyes wide and mouths agape.
“I'm Mark Potter-Prebys,” he said. “Or Baron Shiley or Lord Shiley, but I prefer to be called Mark. What brings you out on such a frigid night? What can we do for you?” As he said this, he led them from the foyer just inside the door into the grand front hall.
Just then, Maisy came running into the hall from the back passage. “Mark,” she said breathlessly. “We'll need—”
But then she stopped. She looked at Mark and the couple standing before him. As if a ghostly shroud dropped over her face, her cheeks drained of colour and her eyes lost their spark.
“Maisy,” Mark said, trying to keep the question from his eyes, the confusion from his voice. “We have visitors. They just arrived.”
Maisy forced herself back into motion and walked stiffly toward them.
“We're just introducing ourselves,” Mark explained, smiling at the couple who seemed quite startled and looked a bit overwhelmed. “But I think they're a bit shy …? Or just cold through and through.” He looked at the anxious pair with kindness. “They haven't said anything to me yet.”
Maisy forced out a short laugh. “It's—it's—okay,” she stammered. “They don't speak English.” She moved to stand closer to the couple.
“They don't?” Mark shot her a quick glance. “You know them?” He smiled again at the couple.
“Of course,” Maisy said, and suddenly she grinned so broadly that such forced glee might have cracked another's face.
Mark furrowed his brow. What was wrong with Maisy? She'd gone from deathly pale to garishly bright in a nanosecond and nothing made sense.
“They're refugees,” she explained.
“Oh,” he said, trying to go with it. “From where?”
“Croatia.”
“Oh. An
d they've just arrived?”
Maisy began nodding furiously. “Mmm … yes. I thought it could be a Christmas surprise. I … it's a … it's like an adopt a refugee program.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” Mark slid his phone out of his pocket and started tapping at the screen as Maisy just smiled brightly at the couple and nodded fiercely.
“Okay ...” Mark said. “Zdravo. Dobrodošli. Kako se zoveš?"
Maisy and the pair just stared at him.
“Damn,” he said. “My pronunciation must be off. “Here, I'll try this.” He tapped the screen a few more times, then held his phone out toward the trio. This time, his phone spoke the words. “Zdravo. Dobrodošli. Kako se zoveš?"
Mark was looking at them with such expectation. Such desperate hope. He shook his head. “No? Nothing?”
Maisy leaned toward him. “Mark … what are you doing?”
“It's Croatian,” he said. “I said, 'Hello. Welcome. What is your name?' And then I had the Google Translator pronounce the words.”
“Well.” Maisy gave a high pitched laugh Mark did not recall ever hearing from her before. “Aren't there lots of dialects in Croatia? Especially in the … uh … mountains?”
Mark nodded. “Makes sense. Where are they from, exactly? We can look up their dialect. I bet we can find some app that will—” Mark stopped talking and snapped his fingers. “Eva!”
Maisy's eyes grew wide. “Wh-what?”
“Eva's Serbian. I bet she might know something to help us out. I'll go track her down.” He turned and headed to the back passage.
“No!” Maisy went after him and snagged him by the elbow. “Look, let me—”
But Mark turned back toward her and Maisy saw the tense set of his jaw and … and … the glistening in his eyes.
He knew.
He knew she was lying to him and he couldn't take it one second longer. He wasn't going to find Eva. He was just getting away from Maisy before all her lies completely did him in. Oh, God! She almost had Mark in tears because of all the lies.
“Mark,” she rasped, taking him by both arms and looking into his eyes, her own brimming over as she silently begged him to understand. “Mark,” she said again, scarcely a whisper forced out through her constricted throat. “They're my parents.”
A Drakenfall Christmas: A Novel Page 11
