Sommersgate House

by Kristen Ashley

  She moved toward him and gently took the stocking he was stuffing away.

  “Can you lay the presents in that bag under the tree?” she asked quietly, avoiding his eyes because she knew if she looked at him the jig would be up. He’d know how she felt immediately. She was certain her heart was in her eyes. She continued, making her voice soft. “And then, I’m afraid, you’re going to have to eat the mince pie and have a go at that sherry.” She indicated Santa’s treat. “I’ll have Rudolf’s carrot.”

  “I’m not sure you gave yourself the best end of that deal,” he commented, his voice bland.

  She flashed a too-brilliant smile at him, a smile meant to hide her unease, and said, “We Americans are not overly fond of mince pies and sherry, or at least this American isn’t.”

  He gave her an assessing look and she turned her attention quickly to completing the stockings and started to babble. “How people think Santa can drink sherry at every house and not bumble around drunkenly, giving out the wrong presents and tipping over the tree, is beyond me.”

  “You think only the sherry consumption aspect of the concept of Father Christmas is hard to believe?”

  She dumped talcum powder into the bottom of the discarded stocking stuffer box. “Oh yes,” she replied, too brightly, “magic can explain a lot of things but if I had thousands of glasses of sherry, Christmas would be a mess and I’m not just talking about leaving the wrong presents for the wrong child under the tree.”

  She heard him chuckle and felt an enormous sense of relief that his awkwardness was gone and she’d been the one to manage the Herculean feat of dispelling it.

  She straightened from the box, turned to him and watched him down the sherry in one gulp, the strong muscles in his neck moving in a way that, watching them, she found herself spellbound.

  “Julia?” he queried when he had long since completed his gastronomical act as Santa and she just continued to stare.

  She jumped then, intent on hiding her reaction, she cried with false lightness, “Okay! One last bit. Step in this box and then you have to stamp the powder around the carpet.”

  He looked at her as if she’d gone mad.

  “It’ll look like Santa got snow all over the floor,” she explained then ordered, “Be sure to walk over to the plate with the goodies.”

  “Julia, that’s powder,” Douglas pointed out the obvious.

  “A four year old won’t know that.”

  “I think Ruby is far more perceptive than that. There’s rarely snow in Somerset.”

  Julia walked up to him and, for reasons unknown, perhaps because of how she felt about hearing that he received stock certificates for Christmas as a child (which she still could not quite wrap her mind around), she lightly put her hand on his chest and said, “A child will see past powder and weather patterns when it comes to the magic of Christmas. Trust me. I’ve had enough Christmas mornings with those children that I know.”

  He looked down at her hand on his chest, his eyes warming and she quickly pulled away.

  Dutifully, he stomped in the box and around the carpet and she tried not to laugh because he looked positively disgruntled. In a perfect world, she’d giggle at him, tease him and then kiss him for doing it regardless of his distaste for the act. But now, she just walked over to Rudolf’s carrot and munched away, trying to pretend she didn’t notice anything at all.

  When he was finished, she announced they were done and stuffed the bags into the boxes, thanked him for his assistance, bid him an airy goodnight and carried the detritus out of the room, trying, somewhat desperately, (and perhaps not successfully) not to look like she was fleeing.

  She figured he’d follow her, knock on her door or slide into bed with her but he didn’t do any of those things and she tried to ignore her frustration that he didn’t. Julia was thankful that there was no scratching at the windows that evening (apparently both Archie and the Lady Ruby took Christmas Eve off from hauntings) and she found herself quickly falling asleep.

  Two hours later, dead asleep, Julia was shaken madly by a bright-eyed Ruby.

  “Santa’s been here!” she screeched.

  Julia winced and looked at the clock. It was just passed two in the morning.

  “Ruby-girl,” Julia smiled wearily at the little girl’s enthusiasm, even at that hour in the morning, and tiredly threw off the covers. She was glad that Ruby had woken her; she’d been too frightened to finish her job as Santa in case she ran into Douglas. Now, she had the time. “You need to help me with something quickly. A special errand Santa left for you and me.”

  Ruby gasped with delight as Julia got up, pulled on her robe and grabbed another small bag of wrapped presents out of her closet.

  Ruby’s eyes lit up when she saw the bag of presents and they walked hand-in-hand to the library.

  “Santa knows that Uncle Douglas stays up late so he left his stocking stuffers with me and asked if you and I could stuff his stocking when we were sure he was asleep,” Julia whispered conspiratorially.

  Ruby’s eyes rounded happily at the thought of Julia having a conversation with Santa and being pulled into a Santa Task.

  “I think he’s asleep but I’ll go and check,” she whispered back, tugging a bit on Julia’s hand.

  Julia held on to the child’s hand more firmly, not wanting an excited Ruby to burst into Douglas’s room. “No, something tells me we’re safe.”

  They quickly stuffed his stocking and then Julia had an idea. She carefully selected some gifts from under the tree and with a finger to her lips at Ruby to keep her secret; she ran back to her room and hid them in the closet. She then grabbed the throw off the chaise and went back.

  She lay down on her side on the couch, the Christmas tree lights illuminating the room happily and she tucked the child in front of her, pulling the warm throw around them. “We’ll just rest here and wait for the others to wake up.”

  Ruby squirmed excitedly. “I think we should wake them up.”

  “No, honey, just rest for a bit, I’m sure they’ll be up soon. Let me tell you about the story of Christmas, the real story of Christmas.”

  “You mean Jesus?” Ruby asked.

  “Yes,” Julia answered and began to tell Ruby about Mary and Joseph but never finished as the child’s breathing evened out and then Julia snuggled her closer against her chest and belly and she herself fell back to sleep.

  She felt like she’d barely closed her eyes when her hair was pulled away from her cheek and gently tucked behind her ear. Her eyes slowly opened and she saw Douglas’s face very close to hers. He was fully dressed and kneeling by the couch.

  Julia blinked several times and then saw the tree and realised where she was.

  It was Christmas, she’d always loved Christmas, any holiday really, and she couldn’t help herself from smiling sleepily.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.

  A slow, lazy, devastatingly handsome smile drifted across his face.

  “Merry Christmas.” His deep, velvety voice rumbled and awakened Ruby who took only a scant second to come fully awake and burst out of Julia’s arms to dance around the room.

  Julia noticed Willie and Lizzie were both watching from across the room, both barely containing their excitement while still looking on with confusion (Willie) and triumph (Lizzie).

  Julia got up immediately, all business.

  “No one touch anything,” she commanded. “Lizzie, you go put the kettle on. Willie, you run and get the camera, do you know where it is?” He nodded and rushed out. “Right. I’m going to brush my teeth and make myself presentable. Let’s go!” Julia clapped her hands and quickly left the room, not allowing herself to spare Douglas a glance.

  After she’d washed her face, brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she made coffee and then the orgy of Christmas began.

  If the children were tormented by their parents not being there, Julia didn’t notice it. They tore into their generous load of presents (and, she
noted, it was made doubly generous by Douglas’s significant contribution, or more than likely Sam’s, but it was the thought that counted).

  She noted Douglas’s surprise when he realised his stocking had been stuffed somewhere in the night but she ignored it, had to ignore it, or the warm feeling that seemed to be permeating her entire body would get out-of-control.

  In fact, she did her best to ignore him altogether and concentrate on the children, sipping her coffee, occasionally taking photos, opening a present here and there and tidying the burgeoning mass of discarded paper, bows and ribbons. Finally, Lizzie put a small, exquisitely wrapped box in her hand and she saw on the card, in the unmistakable, confident handwriting of Douglas, that it was from him.

  Her eyes finally met his.

  “I thought –” she began, intending to mention the emerald.

  “Open it!” Lizzie fairly shouted, almost more curious to see what it held than Julia.

  Julia tore into the box carefully and gasped in undisguised pleasure when she found a diamond watch inside.

  It was not something hideously ostentatious but so subtle and elegant it could be worn every day. She noticed it was a brand that was often advertised in the most exclusive fashion magazines and she knew it had to cost thousands, maybe tens of thousands of pounds. She felt a lump rise in the back of her throat, not at its worth but that it was absolutely perfect. If she had the money, she would have chosen it for herself. The thoughtfulness and attention to her style took her breath away.

  She raised dazed eyes to Douglas’s inquisitive ones and was spared any comment when he read her expression and his curiosity turned to a look of such male satisfaction that Julia felt her stomach pitch dangerously.

  It was then that Lizzie shoved Julia’s present for Douglas in his hands.

  Her thrill at her glorious present evaporated and she nearly groaned, wanting to snatch his present away.

  It was nowhere near a diamond watch. Not only not in the same ballpark, not even in the same galaxy.

  Obliging Lizzie, he opened it and Julia closed her eyes in embarrassment as he pulled out a midnight blue tie. It did happen to be very smart tie and the most unbelievably expensive tie she’d ever purchased. She had also purchased it at Harrods which was the most unbelievably posh store in the history of time.

  But it was also just a tie.

  “You bought him a tie?” Lizzie blurted, turning accusing eyes to Julia, obviously disgusted.

  “It’s a nice tie,” Douglas said, gently but sternly, reprimanding Lizzie’s outburst.

  “It’s still a tie,” Lizzie wailed, ignoring Douglas’s soft rebuke.

  Feeling the need to defend herself, and not wanting either Lizzie or Douglas to think her ungenerous she explained to the girl, “It matches his eyes.” Her own eyes swept to Douglas, wanting him to understand, actually somehow desperate that he would understand. “It exactly matches your eyes.”

  And it did, especially then, when they darkened and became the exact, inky, midnight blue of the tie. At that look, her stomach didn’t just pitch, it plummeted deliciously.

  “It does match his eyes!” Ruby squealed and the moment was, thankfully, broken.

  There was no time for anything further. Presents unwrapped, Julia left the room (or, more appropriately, escaped) and quickly dressed, cooked and served breakfast. After she cleared away the breakfast dishes, she went to work on the piles of used wrapping paper and arranged the opened presents under the tree while the children had scattered to play with new toys (Ruby), new computer games (Willie) or to try on new clothes (Lizzie) with Douglas called here and there to help assemble something or deal with some computer dilemma. Then Julia was off to begin dinner.

  Ronnie arrived at noon, followed closely by Nick and Mr. and Mrs. K. As they were guests at Sommersgate House for the first time ever, they didn’t know what to do with themselves (save Nick who leapt into the fray, telling amusing, though somewhat frightening, anecdotes that left Julia to wonder if Douglas had any involvement in them).

  For his part, Douglas played the attentive host, pressing drinks into hands and drawing out conversation. The company relaxed, starting to enjoy themselves when the children handed out gifts, including ones they had specifically chosen for each person (causing Mrs. K to dab at her eyes with her hanky and Ronnie to escape the room altogether for fifteen minutes).

  Mrs. K finally could stand it no longer and when Julia left the room to check the turkey, she followed, nudged Julia out of the way and took over. Lizzie and Ronnie set the table, giving Julia time to shower and get ready.

  Tammy and Gav had been resolutely casual for Christmas so Julia followed suit and put on a pair of her jeans and a bright red, fitted long-sleeved t-shirt that had a square neck so wide, it was cut nearly all the way to her shoulders and sleeves that were intentionally long and she had to bunch them artfully at her wrists. Regardless of the fact that they were too elegant for her outfit, she wore her new watch, her emerald studs and the emerald pendant Douglas had given her.

  Sherry had turned to wine and dinner, Christmas crackers (Nick manfully put on his paper crown but Mr. K and Douglas demurred), good food and good company (company that had long-since turned into a makeshift family for the children) made the table downright joyous and Julia was beside herself with delight that she pulled off this first Christmas without Tammy and Gav.

  When the flaming pudding was consumed and the trifle was dished out, everyone was drinking coffee and the children were itching to get back to their presents, Julia gave her mumbled apologies, pulled her paper crown off her head, whispered in Ruby’s ear and they both left the room hand-in-hand.

  In her rooms, Julia unearthed the presents she had put there the night before and gave Ruby careful instructions. They both re-entered the dining room with arms loaded with the last presents of the day. Everyone stared at them in surprise as Ruby, acting as if this was the most important task of her entire life (which it probably was), handed out her gifts to the assemblage and Julia announced while she handed out hers, “Douglas told me last night there was a Christmas tradition in the Ashton family that I thought it appropriate to resurrect. When he was a boy, they had their presents at dinner. So, last night, Ruby and I saved a few and here we are!”

  Nick, the Kilpatricks and Ronnie glanced surreptitiously at Douglas and meaningfully amongst themselves as Julia reseated herself next to Douglas.

  Ruby handed Douglas his last gift and Julia couldn’t stop herself from watching him openly (she had not saved a present for herself as she wanted to watch the others).

  His face was a picture of astonishment then his eyes became immediately shuttered.

  All the presents Julia saved were from her. For Douglas it was a bottle of Lalique men’s cologne. An extraordinary scent that she fell in love with when she smelled it and it was presented in an exquisite bottle with the head of a horse carved intricately in the front.

  What it was not was a stock certificate.

  He took it out of the box and moved it around in his hands as Julia leaned over to him. “I hope you like it. It isn’t a diamond watch –”

  His eyes lifted to hers and his were blazing so fiercely that her breath went out of her in a rush.

  “I don’t want a diamond watch,” he said, his voice both terse and strangely hoarse, the combination of tone and the look in his eyes made her believe that she’d made him angry.

  “The horse reminded me of you… not that you look like a horse…” she explained clumsily but she stopped he stood abruptly.

  “Excuse us,” he declared to the table at large and Julia noticed that everyone was watching them with avid interest.

  To her stunned surprise, he put the cologne on the table, grabbed Julia’s hand, pulled her none-too-gently out of her chair and walked out of the room, tugging her along behind him, his strides so long and fast she had to run to keep up with him.

  He headed to the study, yanked her inside and slammed the door.

&nbs
p; She misread his response and rushed to calm him. “Douglas, I’m so sorry, I wanted to do something –”

  He grabbed her and in actions that were violent yet controlled, at the same time strangely gentle, he threw her against the door and pressed his body into hers. His hands came to either side of her jaw, tilting her face to his, his mouth descended and took hers in a kiss that was so devastatingly thorough she was panting when he lifted his head.

  His hands cradled her face and, if she wasn’t shocked enough at this behaviour; he astounded her further by nudging her nose with his own.

  “Marry me.” His voice was rough and she felt it like a physical touch.

  Her legs, already jelly, nearly came out from under her.

  She grasped onto his sweater at his sides to hold herself upright but shook her head, panic beginning to fill her.

  This was not a Douglas she knew. This was not an indifferent Douglas. This was not a determined Douglas, bent on having what he wanted. This was an altogether unknown Douglas.

  A Douglas she could actually say yes to.

  “I was just trying to be nice, I didn’t expect this.” To her irritation, her voice held a tremble.

  “Oh yes you did, you just didn’t know it.”

  “What an extraordinarily arrogant thing to say.” She tried to sound waspish but it came out breathless.

  He grinned and she moaned a little at the sight of it which made his grin grow to a smile.

  “It’s going to be so fun when I win.” His nose nudged hers again, this time playfully (a playful Douglas, too, had once been an altogether unknown entity and she found herself shocked that she was actually getting used to it).

  He slid his nose up the side of hers. Then his lips kissed each eyelid in turn and she held her breath, scared of what she’d say or do because his actions were so sweet, so tender, so caring, so strangely loving, she couldn’t cope.

  She tried to break the moment. “Everyone is probably wondering where we are, we have to go back.”