Snowy Christmas

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Snowy Christmas Page 7

by Helen Scott Taylor


  Chapter Eleven

  Emily strolled through the crisp morning air, her breath steaming. Peggy and Snow White dashed around together, following the trails on the frosty grass where wild animals had passed in the night.

  Marcus had a meeting with his financial advisor, who'd arrived with the biggest briefcase Emily had ever seen. The two men were closeted in Marcus's office, no doubt talking about the stock market and interest rates. As it was such a lovely morning, and it was good to be alive, she'd decided to take the dogs for a walk alone.

  Over the weekend, Chloe had invited her to stop by to taste the cinnamon cookies she'd baked, so Emily took the path that led to Rosemoor Farm. Chloe had started her school Christmas vacation now, so she should be home on a weekday.

  As Emily entered the farmyard, she saw Owen talking to Ned, their voices lost in the noise from the shed of bleating goats. Both men shouted hello and waved. Owen's Jack Russell, Zack, trotted across to greet Peggy and Snow White, but Ned's grumpy collie ignored them, thank goodness.

  She knocked on the back door of Rosemoor Farm. A few moments later came the sound of Paddy barking and jumping up at the inside of the door, and then it opened. Paddy burst out like a black hurricane, nearly taking the legs from under her.

  "Paddy, no," Chloe shouted. "Get back inside now."

  With a clatter of claws, all the dogs charged inside. Emily toed off her boots and followed, wincing at the trail of dirty paw prints into the kitchen.

  "Mum's in surgery spaying a cat," Chloe said. "I'll make you a cup of tea, and you can taste my cookies. I want your expert opinion. I still plan to study veterinary medicine, but I like cooking as well." Chloe sounded so grown-up and serious, it made Emily smile.

  "Thank you. I can't wait. Do you have a dog towel and a cloth to wipe the floor?"

  While Emily cleaned the dogs, and then their paw prints from the floor, Chloe made the tea. Snow White and Peggy checked out the two dogs' beds. A sleek gray cat was curled in the center of one, so they both squeezed into the other, a big black dog and a small white fluffy one curled side by side.

  Chloe crouched and stroked the cat, who stretched with a meow and settled back to sleep again. "Sixpence always steals one of the poor dogs' beds. Dad says she rules the roost because she has claws."

  "It doesn't matter. Snowy and Pegs are used to sleeping together. They're such good friends."

  Emily took out her phone and snapped a photograph of them to show Marcus. A pang of longing hit her at the thought of him. It seemed wrong to be walking the dogs and visiting Rosemoor Farm without him. She was so used to them being together that whenever they were apart, she felt something was missing.

  Chloe placed a plate of golden-brown Christmas tree and star-shaped cookies on the table with the teapot, mugs, sugar bowl, and milk. Then she proceeded to pour out the tea and add one sugar and a touch of milk for Emily, just as she liked. Chloe had been an efficient waitress at the wedding, and made a good hostess.

  Emily bit into a cookie and chewed thoughtfully. Chloe's cookies were tasty. "Very good," she said. "The cinnamon adds just the right spicy tang to the buttery flavor, and it crumbles perfectly in the mouth. I'd like the recipe, if you don't mind."

  Chloe grinned. "I'll photocopy it in the estate office and drop it off at the hall sometime."

  Emily and Chloe had a nice chat about school, careers, dogs, especially how to stop Paddy being naughty, and Christmas. An hour later, Emily was just pulling on her boots at the door to leave when Ned put his head inside.

  "Glad I caught you," he said. "I've been meaning to drop these off. Sorry, should have done it sooner. I've had some of them a few weeks." He held out a bundle of letters contained in a rubber band.

  A quick flick through the envelopes showed that they had all been redirected from Spain. Vicente had handwritten her address on each one. Emily's heart gave a sick jolt at being reminded of him. She was surprised he'd bothered to forward her mail. She'd have expected him to toss it in the trash.

  She stuffed the letters in her coat pocket and pushed the image of him out of her mind. He was history. She had to be positive and look to the future—with Marcus. The thought of him brought a smile to her lips.

  As Emily opened the gate onto the parkland, Peggy and Snow White bounded through. She took the long route around the perimeter of the huge expanse of grassland. When she reached the felled oak tree at the farthest corner, which had been carved into a bench by a local craftsman, she stopped and sat.

  The view across the frost-coated grass and trees towards Rosemoor Hall was spectacular. Trimmed with sparkling Christmas lights, the majestic golden-stone building stood framed by its gardens like an ancient monarch sitting on a throne, keeping watch over his lands.

  It was a beautiful sight. She loved Rosemoor Hall, probably because she loved Marcus, and in her mind the hall was part of him, his home. Now it was her home too. The thought gave her a warm pulse of belonging, something she hadn't felt for a long time.

  The bundle of letters dug into her thigh where her coat pulled tight. She stood, tugged the envelopes from her pocket, and then sat and snapped the rubber band off them. Leafing through, she found two were from her grandma, and one was from her parents, who lived in Cyprus. Her father had joined the army as an engineer when Emily was fourteen, leaving her with her grandma so she didn't have to change schools. By then, Ned was already working at Rosemoor Farm.

  There was some Spanish junk mail, and she couldn't understand why Vicente had bothered to forward that to her. Tucked among the Spanish mail was an official-looking envelope. Setting the other mail aside, she tore this one open and scanned the Spanish writing. As the words sank in, the blood drained from her head and her ears buzzed.

  She dropped the pages and closed her eyes for a moment, willing them to disappear. But the two sheets of cream-colored paper were still lying on the ground at her feet. She considered stamping them into the dirt and pretending she hadn't received them, but this problem wouldn't go away.

  It was a letter from a Spanish loan company, the sort that offered short-term loans at high rates of interest. In threatening terms, they demanded she pay the arrears she owed immediately, or they would take her to court.

  It wasn't a fortune, only five thousand Euros, but it was five thousand Euros she didn't have. And she hadn't taken out the loan anyway.

  She pressed her hand over her eyes, dimly aware of Snow White's paws on her knee as her baby came to see what was wrong. "It's all right, sweetie." She pressed her face to the top of Snow White's head, and tears pricked her eyes.

  After a moment, she sucked in a breath and tried to focus. Had Vicente sneakily persuaded her to sign a loan application? It was unlikely. She carefully read any legal documents she signed. That meant he must have forged her signature.

  The cold penetrated Emily's clothes while she stared unseeing over the countryside. Eventually, Peggy got fed up with chasing rabbits and pheasants and came to find out what was happening.

  A figure in the distance caught Emily's attention, and she recognized Marcus walking her way. He waved his arms and whistled. Peggy took off, hurtling across the grass towards him. Snow White stood to attention, head high and tail wagging, but she stayed at Emily's side.

  How was she going to tell Marcus about her latest problem? He'd been wonderful helping her out, and she knew he would do so again, but she didn't want him to think she was a disaster zone. This would probably mean an urgent trip to Spain, and she might have to report the issue to the Spanish police. She might even have to talk to Vicente again.

  The moment Marcus was close enough to see her face, his smile fell away to be replaced by a frown. "What's the matter, love?"

  The tears she'd held back filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. In answer, she held out the letter. He took it and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing his warm lips to hers.

  "Whatever it is, we'll sort it out." He glanced at the letter and shook his head
. "I can't read Spanish. What does it say?"

  She told him. "I think Vicente must have taken out a loan in my name and forged my signature."

  "You're not liable then. It's identity theft. As soon as we get back to the hall, I'll call my lawyers. They'll handle this for us."

  "I don't want to have to go to Spain and miss Christmas at Rosemoor."

  "You won't." He stroked the hair back from her face and tucked it under her wool hat. "Vicente probably thinks you won't have the money to pay for legal advice and you won't know how to handle this, but he's wrong. You have me to help you."

  Emily leaned into Marcus and breathed in the familiar smell of him that was so reassuring. "Sorry I seem to cause one problem after another."

  "The only thing you did wrong was fall for a jerk who's made your life hell. I can't criticize you for that. I did something similar myself."

  Marcus moved away and Emily sighed, missing the feel of his arms around her. She expected him to stand, but instead he took her gloved hands in his and went down on one knee in front of her.

  Emily stared at him, her eyes wide in confusion. "Be careful of your nice trousers." She tried to tug him up since he was still wearing the expensive trousers he'd put on for the meeting with his financial advisor, but he shook his head and smiled.

  "Don't worry. They'll clean up." He put a hand in his coat pocket and pulled out a black leather box with gold writing embossed on top.

  The ground seemed to tilt beneath her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Surely he wasn't about to…

  He lifted the lid of the box to reveal a stunning engagement ring with a diamond solitaire the size of a marble. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it was massive.

  "I planned to keep this until Christmas, but I can't wait to ask you. Emily, my love, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

  Emily opened her mouth and closed it again. She felt light-headed from her wildly fluctuating emotions—first despair and now elation.

  "Isn't it a bit soon after…" There was nothing in the world she'd rather do than marry Marcus, but she'd only known him a month, and he'd just finalized his divorce.

  "I parted from Gabriella over two years ago, and we weren't a normal married couple for at least a year before that." He took the ring out of the box and held it out. "I've been alone for so long, Emily. I love you. I want to be with you forever."

  "In that case, my answer is yes, a thousand times yes." She pulled off her gloves, framed his dear face between her hands, and pressed her lips to his, putting all her love into the kiss to let him know he wasn't alone anymore.

  After the kiss, he grinned, the expression as much relief as pleasure. "Whew. For a moment there, I thought you were going to turn me down."

  She stretched out the fingers of her left hand, and he slipped the ring on for her.

  "Oh my. It's stunning. And it fits perfectly."

  "I borrowed one of your rings from your room to get the size. That guy this morning wasn't a financial advisor; he was a representative from the jewelry shop we visited in London. When we were there last week, I saw the engagement rings and knew that's what I had to give you for Christmas. But I wanted it to be a surprise."

  "It's a wonderful surprise, the best one ever."

  Marcus sat beside her on the bench again and pulled her onto his lap. They cuddled and kissed, then they raced back to Rosemoor Hall, running with the dogs barking excitedly at their feet.

  Chapter Twelve

  When they returned from their walk, Marcus went straight to his office to call his lawyers. He rarely pursued people through the courts; his philosophy was to live and let live. He liked to resolve issues himself amicably, but Emily's situation with Vicente was different. He wanted the book thrown at that guy.

  While Emily sent his lawyers an e-mail giving all the details she had about Vicente with a scan of the loan letter attached, Marcus talked to the senior partner at the law firm.

  "I want this pursued vigorously," he said. "Report it to the Spanish police right away and encourage them to take action. It's my fiancé he's targeted. I want it resolved as soon as possible. Please e-mail me daily progress reports." He ended the call, satisfied that action would be swift and sustained until the problem was resolved.

  Emily gazed at him uncertainly when he put down the phone. "What did they say?"

  "It's being taken care of. Nothing for you to worry about, love. Let's have some lunch. I'm starving."

  While Emily made them some sandwiches, he went to his bedroom to change his muddy trousers. He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed before pulling out his mobile phone to make another call. His old school friend Simon was the local vicar, and he answered on the second ring.

  "Good afternoon. It's Marcus. I have something important to ask you." He explained he'd just become engaged to Emily. "You don't have a problem with us marrying in the church, do you?" He knew that being divorced could be an issue with a church wedding.

  "We consider it on a case-by-case basis, and in your case, I'm happy to marry you again. I'm relieved that you're free of Gabriella and able to find happiness again, although that's off the record."

  Simon knew what Marcus had gone through during his marriage. They'd had a few late-night discussions at the vicarage with a bottle of good malt whiskey while Marcus tried to make sense of his life.

  Five minutes later, Marcus ended the call, smiling. He went to the kitchen and stepped up behind Emily where she worked at the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her soft, warm body against him and inhaled the sweet smell of her hair.

  "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

  "Better now you're here. The sandwiches are nearly ready."

  His heart pinched at the thought of how Vicente had used her. She was so kind and softhearted, and the jerk had taken advantage of that. He loved Emily so much. He would make sure she didn't worry about this latest problem.

  "I think we should crack open a bottle of bubbly." He grabbed her hand and pulled her, laughing, out of his apartment and down the stairs to the cellar door. Rosemoor Hall only had two small rooms below ground level. They remained at a constant temperature all year round and were used to store the wine.

  He negotiated the narrow steps, turning to help Emily down. They walked between wooden racks of pinot noir, merlot, chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, and many other red, white, and rosé wines to the shelves that held the champagne. He crouched and pulled out a bottle of his favorite, wiped off the label, and held it up.

  "To madam's taste?"

  "Absolutely."

  "How about we have one each?" He pulled out a second bottle and she laughed, the joyous sound easing his fear that she was worrying.

  Back in the kitchen, Marcus popped the cork on the first bottle and filled two crystal flutes with golden liquid, fizzing with bubbles.

  "Congratulations to us."

  She echoed his sentiment, bumping her glass against his before taking a sip.

  "Are you going to tell your family we're engaged?" she asked.

  "Tomorrow. Today is our day to celebrate together—just the two of us."

  Outside, red and gold streaks crept along the horizon as the sun fell and twilight darkened the sky. Inside, Marcus held Emily close, dancing slowly to a soulful tune. Most of the champagne was gone, and he felt warm and fuzzy. He kissed Emily, dreamy and happy.

  "This is what love should be like," he said, marveling at how wonderful it could be with that one special person. She'd transformed his life in such a short time. He kissed the soft skin beneath her ear that made her go all wriggly and tickly. "You're beautiful and perfect," he whispered in her ear.

  "You're seeing me through a champagne haze."

  "Maybe, but to me you're still beautiful and perfect. How would you like to get married at the end of January?"

  "In a month's time?"

  "Yes." He grinned at her startled expression.

  "What about all the arrangements? It takes
ages to sort everything out."

  "Relax. We have plenty of time. My family will help. We'll announce our engagement on Christmas Day."

  She snuggled close to him, her breath warm against his neck as she trailed kisses on his jaw. "I'll be counting the days. I can't wait to be Mrs. Bramwell and know you're mine forever."

  • • •

  Emily and Shelly wheeled the big old serving trolley laden with the turkey, covered dishes of vegetables, and gravy boats along the kitchen corridor towards the great hall. They chuckled together at the discordant tune of the squeaky wheels.

  "This takes me back." Shelly patted the trolley affectionately. "The last time I pushed this, I was still in school. I'm sure the wheels didn't squeak then. Marcus's mother would never have allowed it."

  The great hall welcomed them with the pleasant fragrance of wood smoke and mulled wine. The dogs lay in a lazy huddle on the mat in front of the fire, and the rest of the family stood around the Christmas tree chatting, glasses in their hands.

  "Come and get it," Shelly called.

  Emily had planned to announce, "Dinner is served," as it sounded more elegant, but Shelly didn't stand on ceremony.

  "Wonderful. I'm starving," Marcus said. "The smell of that turkey roasting has been making my stomach growl for hours."

  They all took their seats at the old oak table that normally stood against the wall at the end of the great hall. It weighed a ton, and had taken everyone to pull it away from the wall so they could sit on both sides.

  Marcus sat at the head of the table with Emily on one side and Jonathan on the other. She couldn't wait to put on the diamond engagement ring in her dress pocket. All morning, she'd kept touching the bump it made to be sure it was still there.

  After Marcus carved the turkey and the pork, the vegetable dishes were passed around the table. Emily slipped off her shoes and rubbed her nylon-clad toes on Marcus's ankle, smiling as his lips twitched and he cast her a knowing sideways glance. His brown eyes twinkled in the Christmas lights, and she bubbled inside with pleasure and excitement.

 

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