Snowy Christmas

by Helen Scott Taylor

  "I think I love you, Marcus Bramwell."

  His emotions soared, and he grinned back at her. "Well, that's good, because I love you too."

  • • •

  For the visit to the bank, Emily dressed in fitted black slacks and a red blouse, and carried the documents Marcus told her to bring in her big shoulder bag. He wore a dark suit, a blue-and-silver-striped tie, and a long navy cashmere overcoat that made him look like a stockbroker.

  They stepped out of the back door, and she waited while he locked it. They had walked the dogs over to Rosemoor Farm earlier since Owen and Jennifer were pet sitting for the day. It seemed strangely quiet and lonely without their exuberant canine companions.

  Emily turned towards the old coach house where Marcus kept his cars, hoping she might get to ride in his Porsche today. So far, she'd only seen him use the four-wheel drive.

  "Not that way," he said.

  She frowned as he took her hand and led her up the path to the gate into the huge open expanse of grassy parkland.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "To London, of course."

  Emily chuckled, wondering what he was up to. Then she noticed him looking up at the sky. The distant sound of a helicopter grew louder, and she followed his finger as he pointed to the small dark dot against the pale wintery blue sky.

  "For us?" she said, suppressing the burst of excitement.

  "For us," he confirmed.

  She scooped back her wildly blowing hair while the chopper landed nearby. As the rotor blades slowed, the pilot beckoned Marcus, and he jogged over. The two men exchanged a few words before Marcus came back for her.

  He helped boost her into the helicopter, and they both settled in their seats and fastened their safety belts. The pilot told them to put on their headsets so they could talk to each other.

  A few minutes later, the engine roared, and the craft shuddered and lifted off. The ground fell away, leaving Emily's tummy behind.

  "All right?" Marcus's voice came through the headset in her ears. He sounded very cultured through the headphones, and she wondered what she'd sound like, so she just nodded.

  "You're allowed to talk to me, you know," he joked.

  It was all so new and strange. Emily giggled. "Hello," she said. He shook his head affectionately and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

  "Don't miss the view," the pilot said.

  Emily turned her attention to the window as they circled the parkland. Below, Rosemoor Estate and the village looked like toy land. She tugged her phone from her pocket and snapped some photos to show her grandmother and Ned.

  Marcus and the pilot both pointed out landmarks as they flew, and it wasn't long before the urban expanse of London lay below. Marcus leaned over and pointed down at the cars gridlocked bumper to bumper on the roads.

  "That's why we didn't drive. The traffic into London is crazy busy this close to Christmas."

  Emily had expected that they'd land at London City Airport. Instead they came down on a landing pad on the top of a tower block.

  "This is Sinclair Bank," Marcus said.

  "Oh my gosh." Door-to-door service in under an hour. If this was what it was like to be rich, she could get used to it.

  A man in a burgundy doorman's uniform ran forward and opened the helicopter door. He helped her down before leading them to the exit from the roof. "Please come with me, sir, madam."

  The stairway down from the roof was plain, but at the bottom of the flight they stepped through a door into a thickly carpeted corridor with subtle recessed lighting and gold-patterned wallpaper.

  A short trip down a few floors in an elevator took them to a busier area, where an attractive receptionist greeted Marcus with a smile. "Did you have a good flight, Mr. Bramwell?"

  "Excellent. Thank you."

  "Please follow me. Mr. Sinclair is waiting for you."

  Marcus took Emily's hand, and she walked beside him in a daze as they were shown into a huge glass-walled corner office with a stunning view over the iconic London skyline. A good-looking man about the same age as Marcus with dark blond hair and a charcoal-gray suit rose from behind the desk to shake their hands.

  "Emily, this is Ben Sinclair. We go back all the way to prep school when we were five." They asked after each other's families, and were obviously good friends.

  Emily sank into a plush leather sofa beside Marcus and dug out of her bag the proof of identity she needed. She leaned on a glass-topped coffee table to fill out the loan application form, and handed it across to Ben. He cast his eye over the pages, signed the bottom to approve the loan, and the form was whisked away by the efficient receptionist.

  While she and Marcus chatted with Ben over cups of coffee, thousands of pounds were transferred into her bank account as if borrowing money was as easy as buying a can of peas.

  The whole experience was surreal. Of course, she was under no illusion they were doing this for her. On her own, she wouldn't even be allowed inside this exclusive bank for the über wealthy, let alone be offered a loan. This was a transaction between Ben and Marcus, a man doing a favor for an old friend. And if she defaulted, she knew the signature Marcus had dashed off at the bottom of a document they didn't discuss meant he would pay the money back.

  Perhaps she should have objected, but she wasn't that stupid. If he was willing to pave the way for her to get a better rate of interest like this, she was happy to accept. She planned to pay back every penny herself, so he would never be called on to subsidize her.

  After they said good-bye to Ben, they stepped out of the Sinclair Bank's luxurious tower onto a busy street, and normality returned in a heady rush. Had she really just lived through the last half hour, or was it a dream?

  She gripped the lapels of Marcus's coat. "I have enough money in my bank account to pay off the credit card bills in full now, don't I?"

  "Yes."

  Emily threw back her head and shouted, "Yes!" Relief sang along her nerves. She felt as though a horrible burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Okay, she still owed the same amount of money, but the monthly payments were so much less that she could afford to pay off some of the balance each month as well.

  She linked her arms around Marcus's neck and kissed him, right there in the street with businesspeople streaming around them.

  "What was that for?" he said when she released him.

  "Because you're wonderful."

  He chuckled. "I'm not going to argue with that."

  "So, where are we going next?"

  "That, my darling, is a surprise."

  Chapter Ten

  "Oh my. This whole place sells nothing but toys?" Emily gazed up at the facade of the old building illuminated with Christmas lights in wonder, giving Marcus a thrill to be taking her inside for the first time.

  Marcus loved Hamley's toy shop on Regent Street. He'd been coming here the week before Christmas since he was a boy. When he was younger, his father brought him to choose presents for himself. It was seven floors of magic that he'd looked forward to one day sharing with his own son or daughter. He'd started to lose hope of that ever happening.

  They made their way through the busy floors of toys and games, amid the squeaking, chiming, and beeping of toys and the happy chatter of excited children with their parents. He chose some gifts for his brother's daughter, Isabelle, and a few new baby toys to give to Owen and Jennifer's baby when it was born after Christmas.

  Yet he was at a loss when it came to Chloe. "What do thirteen-year-old girls like? I need birthday and Christmas presents for Chloe." She was more a young woman now than a child. He was good at choosing toys for little girls, and not bad at choosing jewelry and gifts for women, but teenage girls confused him.

  "If you're looking for something for Chloe, we need a good department store."

  "Let's go to the best then." They left Hamley's clutching their gift bags and hailed a black cab. "Harrods," Marcus said to the driver. No address needed.

  The iconic department
store was impressive, the front covered in tasteful Christmas lights. Emily helped him select a handbag with a dog-shaped charm on it that he knew Chloe would love. He also bought her dog-patterned Wellington boots and a matching phone case. Then they went up to the Terrace Restaurant and chose from the impressive lunch menu.

  Staring out over the busy street below, Emily shook her head. "I can't believe today is real. It's like I've stepped into someone else's life."

  "I don't do this very often." Marcus hoped she didn't decide she liked spending days shopping in London. That had been a sticking point between him and Gabriella. He much preferred the country, and whenever Gabriella dragged him away from Rosemoor, he couldn't wait to get home.

  "It's fun, but I'm looking forward to seeing Snowy again. Is there anywhere else you need to go?"

  "There's a store I want to go to just down the street."

  "What store?"

  "A jewelers."

  • • •

  With her hand in Marcus's, Emily made her way through the busy shoppers, not sure if she was excited or nervous to be visiting a jewelers. Marcus hadn't said why he wanted to go there, but his tone of voice and the way his eyes had twinkled suggested he planned to get something for her.

  The jewelry shop was unlike any she'd ever seen before. It was down a side street, the front very discreet with nothing in the window but a sign. Marcus pressed a buzzer beside the door and spoke into an intercom. "Mr. Bramwell for a private viewing."

  The door buzzed open, and they stepped through into a large open space filled with lit glass cases displaying sparkling jewels. Emily wasn't sure what she'd expected to find behind the plain storefront, but not this extravagant display.

  "Good afternoon." A pretty young woman approached them. "How can we help you today?"

  "I want to buy a Christmas present for my girlfriend." Marcus smiled at Emily and she felt she should say something, but was at a loss for words.

  "Do you have anything in mind, sir?"

  "We'll wander around and browse," he said.

  Marcus put his arm around Emily's waist, and they strolled between the glittering displays of necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, and watches. Some of the prices were heart-stoppingly expensive, and made her debts seem like small change.

  "What would you like for Christmas, darling?" he said.

  "Gosh. I have no idea where to start looking." A strange whooshing sounded in Emily's ears as she surveyed the fortune in jewels surrounding her.

  He chuckled as if she'd made a joke, but she was serious. She didn't know how much he wanted to spend. One glance at the prices suggested a lot. Nothing was cheap. Of course his idea of cheap was different from hers.

  He stroked a strand of hair from her cheek and pressed a kiss to the skin beneath her ear that normally made her go all tingly. Right now she hardly noticed, she was so overwhelmed.

  "Those are nice." Marcus pointed out some diamond drop earrings that cost as much as a small car.

  "They're lovely." But they weren't for her. When would she wear earrings like that? She'd worry the whole time she would lose one. Asking her to choose for herself was a nice idea, but it actually made her uncomfortable.

  On the far side of the room against the wall, a display caught her eye. It featured a picture of a cute Westie that looked like Snow White. The dog was like a familiar landmark in a foreign land. She hurried between the glass cases towards it, and her heart nearly melted at the adorable line of jewelry called Paw Prints on Your Heart.

  There were all types of pieces decorated with paw prints, hearts, and animals. A pretty heart-shaped pendant decorated with a diamond-studded paw print was her favorite. And, relative to everything else she'd seen, it wasn't too expensive.

  Marcus could obviously read her mind or her expression, because he beckoned over the hovering assistant and pointed out the pendant. "We'd like to look at this, please."

  The gold heart on its chain was laid on a navy velvet display board. Emily picked it up, cradling the piece in her palm. The heart was just the right size, not too big and not too small, with the paw print in the middle.

  "Would you like to try it on?" Marcus took it from her and fastened the chain around her neck. He stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders as she stared in the mirror.

  She fell in love with it the moment she saw her reflection. She touched her fingertips to the gold heart. It wasn't only pretty; the way it laid flat against her skin made it comfortable too.

  Marcus smiled at her in the mirror. "It could have been made especially for you."

  "I love it."

  He pulled her close and kissed her temple. "We'll take it," he told the assistant. He unfastened it and turned the heart over on his palm. On the back it said Paw Prints on Your Heart in small cursive script.

  "I should have one of these as well," he said softly. "We both have paw prints on our hearts." Then he laughed. "Actually, my whole family does."

  • • •

  For the next few days, Emily walked on air. She used the loan to pay off her credit card accounts and loved seeing the zero balance when she logged into them on the Internet. She'd cut up those credit cards and had no intention of ever using the accounts again.

  On Saturday, a week before Christmas, some of the estate workers carried a ten-foot Nordmann's fir into the great hall and set it up. That afternoon, all the Bramwells gathered to decorate the tree in historic tradition. Emily was the only one there who wasn't a member of the family, but they made her feel as though she belonged.

  A log fire crackled in the huge stone fireplace, and a comfortable arrangement of chairs and sofas surrounded it. Marcus had brought back the furniture that used to be in the room when his parents were alive so they could have a proper family Christmas here like they used to.

  Jennifer gingerly sat in one of the chairs with her hands linked over her huge belly, and puffed out a relieved breath. "I'm going to watch you guys decorate. My back's aching." It was incredible how her baby bump had grown in just a month.

  They opened the old cardboard boxes Emily had helped Marcus dig out of a storeroom. Inside were the antique glass baubles and tree decorations that had been in the family for over a century. Each glass ball was wrapped in tissue paper.

  "Handle the decorations very carefully," Owen told Chloe. "They belonged to your great-grandma."

  "I know, Dad. You told me that on the way over here." Despite her slightly touchy attitude, Chloe was gentle when she hung the decorations on the pine branches. She, Vicky, and Emily decorated the lower branches while Owen and Marcus worked off the stepladder to reach the upper tree.

  Jonathan was responsible for baby Isabelle. She'd just started walking, and kept him racing around after her.

  "She knows I can't see her, and she delights in trying to outwit me," he said. At that moment, Isabelle made a break for the stairs, waving her chubby arms and giggling as her little shoes thumped on the wooden floorboards.

  "I can hear you, munchkin," Jonathan said. "Daddy's coming to get you."

  Isabelle squealed and ran faster.

  "She's a little monkey." Vicky rushed to help round up her daughter, and the tiny girl dashed back to hug her daddy's leg.

  "There you are." Jonathan picked her up and blew on her tummy, making her shriek with laughter.

  Peggy, Jessie, Honey, and Paddy vied with each other for the prime spot on the rug in front of the fire. While they were disagreeing, Snow White sneaked in and stole the best place for herself.

  "Look at that." Emily pointed as the doggy drama unfolded, secretly proud of her little girl for coming out on top. Everyone laughed as the bigger dogs positioned themselves around the bold little Westie.

  "She's obviously not timid anymore," Jennifer said. "She's a wily terrier. They come out on top of the Labs every time."

  When the tree was covered in precious glass baubles of many colors, gleaming in the firelight, they all sat together and drank tea from a vintage bone-china tea service
that had been in the family for ages and was apparently worth a fortune.

  Shelly arrived when all the work was done. She plopped down on a chair and accepted a cup of tea. "The pub's hectic. I can only get away for half an hour, but I had to come and see how you were getting along. It's wonderful to have a tree in the great hall again. I've really missed this. I can't wait to celebrate Christmas Day here. It'll be like old times."

  Emily and Shelly were planning to cook a traditional family Christmas dinner in the kitchen here, and Emily was looking forward to it. Her grandma and Ned were invited as well.

  Everyone fell silent, enjoying a rest, while the log fire crackled and the dogs snored.

  "This brings back so many memories," Jonathan said. He hugged his sleepy daughter close on his lap and kissed her hair. "The last time we had Christmas here all together was before I went to Afghanistan, when Mum and Dad were still alive." Vicky snuggled up beside her husband and rested her head on his shoulder.

  "Sorry, Jon." Marcus didn't elaborate on his apology, but Emily had heard enough of what had happened over the past decade to know what he was apologizing for—and it wasn't him who should be apologizing. It was the Taliban who had taken Jonathan's sight, and Marcus's ex-wife who'd tried to divide Marcus from his family.

  Emily rose from her seat near the fire and sat on the arm of Marcus's chair, leaning in to rest her cheek against his head. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, glancing up at her beneath his thick dark lashes, the firelight dancing in his brown eyes.

  "As head of the family, from now on I promise to uphold the values we all hold dear," he said to the room in general. "Family, Rosemoor, and dogs, not necessarily in that order."

  "To family, Rosemoor, and dogs," Owen echoed, raising his teacup towards the Christmas tree, and they all repeated his words.

  Marcus pulled Emily onto his lap, and they chuckled when Peggy rose and rested her head on his knee as if she were jealous.

  "We can share him, Pegs." Emily stroked the black Labrador's head.

  She had feared this Christmas would be her worst. Instead it promised to be the best ever.