She curled her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his with a groan. ‘Damn you, you don’t play fair.’
Laughing, he held her tight for a moment before letting her go. ‘Not a chance. Not when the stakes are this high, and I’m playing for keeps.’
By 4.30 that afternoon, Tristan was on his way back from a final trip to the railway station with the last of their guests loaded into the family Land Rover. The lady beside him, Ms Abigail Norman, was one of their three solo guests. She’d bumped into Tim and Charlie on the platform while waiting for their connection to the single-carriage train which visited Camland four times a day, and they’d persuaded her to share a gin-in-a-tin from the ample supply they’d provisioned themselves with for the journey. As a result, the short drive up the hill from the station was a giggly one. As he drew up at the front steps of the castle, the laughter in the car faded as his three passengers took in their first proper sight of their home for the next ten days. ‘Bloody hell,’ breathed Charlie from the back seat.
‘It’s amazing,’ Abigail added.
‘Wait until you see inside.’ Hopping out, Tristan rounded the four-wheel drive to open Abigail’s door and help her out before doing the same for Charlie and Tim in the back. ‘Don’t worry about your bags, I’ll sort them out. Come on in.’ He led them up the steps and pushed open one half of the huge wooden doors.
Laughter, conversation and the soft strains of an instrumental backing track playing traditional carols greeted them, together with a blast of hot air and the familiar skitter of claws on tile as a couple of the castle’s dogs came to greet the new arrivals. Not wanting to overwhelm their guests until they’d had a chance to grow used to them, Arthur had confined most of their unruly pack to the family room, leaving only Nimrod and Bella, their gentle greyhounds, and little Pippin to mingle amongst the guests.
‘Let me take your coats,’ Tristan offered, as he shoved the door shut behind him. ‘We’re having a champagne reception to welcome everyone, and then we’ll show you to your rooms.’ He spotted Jess weaving through the small crowd around the round table and nodded towards her. ‘And here’s a familiar face.’ Taking Abigail’s coat, he smiled at her. ‘Jess and I used to work for Tim and Charlie.’
‘So, they were telling me on the train.’ As they watched first Tim and then Charlie envelope Jess in a big hug, she leaned towards Tristan. ‘I must say I was a little nervous about coming here on my own, but if they’re anything to go by, I’m going to have a lovely time.’
‘I certainly hope so. We have a couple of other single ladies staying, although they’re already friends. The idea of this break is to do as much or as little as you please. You’ll meet a lot of new faces tonight, but don’t worry too much about trying to remember who everyone is. Jess and I will be around to make sure you have everything you need, including company anytime you need it.’
‘Thank you. I am hoping to get some work done whilst I’m here, but it’s good to know there’s a friendly face.’
He offered her his arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you a glass of champagne, and I’ll introduce you around.’
In addition to Tim, Charlie and Abigail, there were also the Boltons – the empty nesters trying to avoid their first Christmas alone, and the Carlisles – a retired Canadian couple with the kind of perma-tans which spoke of a very happy retirement spent exploring the world. Tristan steered Abigail towards them and performed the introductions. Bob Carlisle immediately handed her the full glass of champagne he’d taken from a passing tray and set off in search of a fresh one, while his wife, Gloria, and Teresa Bolton complimented Abigail on her pretty sweater, and the three of them were soon planning a trip to the Boxing Day sales, the English women promising to show Gloria all the best stores.
Content Abigail was in good hands, Tristan did a quick circuit to check on their other arrivals. Malcolm Austin, a business executive stood off in one corner phone glued to his ear as it had been since they’d arrived not long after lunch. His wife, Anne-Marie, a timid little thing, hovered nearby looking awkward. Tristan touched his sister-in-law on the back and nodded towards the lonely woman. With a smile of understanding, she excused herself from where she was chatting to Jess, Tim and Charlie and had soon gathered up Anne-Marie and taken her across to meet her mother.
Standing with their backs to the fire, the greyhounds flopped on the floor at their feet, David and Yuki, a couple in their mid-forties who were both successful artists and hoping for inspiration, gushed to Iggy and Will about the amazing gardens. Marcia and Carole, the two female friends he’d mentally nicknamed the merry widows were laughing up at Lancelot, who could always be relied upon to deliver an outrageous story.
So far so good. He frowned, looked around the room once more, and realised he was one couple short. Spotting Maxwell in his full butler rig, including white gloves, circulating with a bottle of champagne to top up glasses, Tristan called him over. ‘Any idea where the Swifts are?’ If they’d decided to go straight up to their room, that was their choice of course, but he and Jess had hoped the reception would act as a bit of an ice-breaker and give everyone a chance to get to know each other.
‘They’re in the long gallery with Sir Arthur. Mr Swift expressed some interest in the family history, I believe.’
‘Great, thanks.’ Tristan allowed Maxwell to find him a glass of champagne, and after seeing Arthur was making his way back through the gallery towards the hall with the Swifts, he made his way to Jess’s side. ‘All good?’ he murmured as Tim and Charlie wandered off to admire the decorations.
‘So far.’ She scanned the room. ‘They all seem to be having a good time.’
He placed a discreet hand on her lower back. ‘Relax, I just checked on everyone.’
Her fingers grazed his thigh. ‘Thank you. I’m going to speak to Maxwell and ask him to bring the food out before the champagne flows too freely.’
‘Good idea. I need to get the last of the luggage from the car and put it away before it freezes. I’ll see you later?’
From the rosy glow on her cheeks, she understood his meaning behind the seemingly innocent question. ‘Yes.’
Chapter 18
As Jess stirred awake early the next morning, her first thought was how bloody hot she was, followed immediately by a rush of panic that she might be getting ill. She tried to shove the heavy cover draped over her, only to discover it was the unmoveable weight of Tristan – the human electric blanket – rather than any type of bug responsible for her current high temperature. She still couldn’t quite believe they were sleeping together, and sleeping was the operative word because when they crawled under the covers last night, Tristan had curled his arm around her and started watching some silly heist movie on his tablet. The plot had been incomprehensible to her, but she couldn’t have cared less, content to lie there beside him and run over the events of the day. She must’ve dozed off before the ending, because she couldn’t recall anything after the robbers had crashed the stolen armoured car off the side of a bridge and that had been quite early on in the movie.
She tried to wriggle out from under Tristan’s weight, only to receive a grumbled complaint in her ear as his arm tightened around her waist. The alarm hadn’t gone off, so she whisked the covers off her lower half as much as possible and let him sleep. Drowsiness tugged at her eyelids, and she was nodding back off when she realised the room wasn’t completely dark, though it had been every morning she’d awoken since not long after the clocks had gone forward. Worried they’d somehow managed to oversleep, she fumbled for her phone on the nightstand and held the illuminated screen in front of her face. 5.20, still ten minutes before the alarm was due to go off.
So why was it so light? With a more determined effort this time, she freed herself from Tristan’s embrace and tiptoed to the window. An odd light filtered through a gap in the curtains, and when she twitched them open she couldn’t hold back her gasp of delight. Everywhere she looked was covered in a blanket of white. Unable to c
ontain her excitement, she ran back to the bed, flicked on the lamp and bounced onto the bed. ‘Tristan! Tristan, wake up!’
‘Wha …?’ Shaking his shaggy hair out of his eyes, he sat up. ‘What’s the matter? What time is it?’
‘Not quite half five.’
‘Then unless the castle is on fire, I’ve still got time to sleep,’ he grumbled, lay down and pulled the cover over his head.
‘But it’s been snowing! Come and look.’ She tugged his arm, trying to pull him from the bed.
‘We live in the dales, that’s what happens in winter.’ His complaint was muffled by the quilt still covering his face.
‘Aren’t you even a little bit excited about it?’ She pouted. ‘Imagine how the guests are going to feel when they wake up and see we’re having a white Christmas. I couldn’t have planned it more perfectly if I’d tried.’
‘It’s not technically Christmas until tomorrow. It might melt during the day.’ When she didn’t answer, he flipped the quilt down and squinted up at her. ‘You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?’
‘A little bit,’ she admitted. ‘I wonder if it’s just up here, or if they’ve had some down south.’ She pictured Elijah’s face if he woke later to snow in Somerset. A fist clenched her heart, God, how she wished they were here with her.
‘Oh, no you don’t.’ Tristan scrambled up and pulled her into his arms. ‘No feeling sad. We’ll have the boys back with us before you know it, and they’ll be able to build a whole army of snowmen on the back lawns.’
She nodded against his shoulder. ‘I know, it’s just …’
‘Shh, darling.’ He rocked her gently, his lips brushing tiny kisses to her temple. ‘I know.’
She was gratified when their guests at least shared her enthusiasm for the overnight snowfall. Once the sun had risen, it was clear to see not much more than a couple of inches had fallen, enough to cover the grass and the roof of the stables, but not so much as to present a hazard if they needed to get a vehicle out – especially one of the four-wheel drives.
Breakfast with the family went down well, and Jess was pleased to see Morgana had chosen to join them after deciding to give the welcome reception a miss. She had fallen into conversation with Abigail and the merry widows and, having discovered Abigail was working on an embroidery project, had invited her to use her upstairs sitting room any time she wished as the light was ‘far superior to that in the west drawing room.’ The general consensus between the guests was everyone was happy to remain at the castle for the next couple of days, content to explore at their leisure. Jess had double-checked everyone had her mobile number programmed into their phones and left them in peace.
They’d opted to place hotel-style ‘Do Not Disturb’ cards in every bedroom, and when she went up mid-morning to check in with Mrs W and her little team of temporary cleaners, it was to find they’d worked out perfectly and they were just finishing up the last of the rooms. Though she’d not expected anything less from someone as experienced as Mrs W, Jess was delighted to see the bedrooms were spotless, and as she headed down the private staircase they’d allocated for the guests, she could hear the drone of a handheld vacuum down below where one of the cleaning team was finishing off the last few steps.
She headed next for the orangery, where she found Yuki curled up in one of the chairs, the sketchpad on her lap showing the preliminary outlines of an orchid blooming in a pot. ‘Can I get you anything?’
Yuki tilted her head back, the black silk waterfall of her hair falling in arrow straight lines from her face. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She gestured around her with the pencil in her hand. ‘I might just live in here for the next week.’
Jess smiled. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? And as I said yesterday, you must please yourself while you are here. There’s no obligation to do anything other than relax and have a good time.’
‘We’re relaxed all right.’ The humorous remark came from behind them, and Jess turned to see David standing in front of the large plate-glass windows, an easel set up in front of him. ‘We were in bed by nine o’clock and I don’t think I moved a muscle until half eight this morning. I can’t remember the last time I slept that long.’
‘That’s music to my ears. Right, well, I’ll leave you both in peace, but I’ll be around if there’s anything you need.’
A quick stroll through the library showed her it was empty. Sweeping up a coffee cup left on one of the tables, she poked her head around the door of the west drawing room to find Mr and Mrs Bolton ensconced on the sofa in front of the fire, noses buried in their books. After promising them a fresh pot of tea, she completed her circuit of the guest spaces and made her way back to the great hall. Tim, Charlie and the Carlisles were just coming in, boots encrusted with snow and cheeks rosy from the fresh air. They’d obviously been out with the dogs from the number of wet paw prints on the tiles trailing towards the pile of cushions in front of the fire. Whipping out her phone, she sent a quick WhatsApp to the messaging group she’d set up for the cleaning crew before helping the two couples to hang up their coats, scarves and other paraphernalia.
‘I can’t get over the air up here,’ Charlie said, shaking his head. ‘It’s like I can feel it clearing out all the muck and emissions from living in the city.’
‘So that’s why you were coughing every time we walked up the tiniest incline?’ Tim raised a sardonic eyebrow at this partner.
‘No, that’s because I haven’t been to the gym in the last six months,’ Charlie responded with a grin. ‘But that’s all going to change. I’m on a health and fitness kick starting from now.’
‘And I was going to ask if anyone wanted a cup of tea and a piece of freshly baked ginger cake,’ Jess teased. ‘So, none for Charlie, but what about the rest of you?’
‘Now, hold on a minute,’ Charlie protested. ‘I’ve walked off a ton of calories this morning. A slice of cake won’t do any harm.’
‘Looks like the health and fitness kick is starting tomorrow,’ Tim tossed over his shoulder to Jess as he linked arms with Charlie and the pair strolled towards the door leading back the way she’d just come. ‘We’ll be in the drawing room. Bob, Gloria, are you going to join us?’
‘I wouldn’t say no to a piece of that cake,’ Bob said, curving an arm around his wife. ‘What about you, honey?’
‘Just the tiniest piece,’ she said, placing a hand on Jess’s arm. ‘The food here is so wonderful, I’ll have to watch myself.’
‘A sliver,’ Jess promised. ‘Enough for a taste, nothing more. And some Earl Grey tea to go with it?’ she asked, recalling the woman’s preferences.
‘That’d be delightful.’
To her surprise, everyone opted to attend Midnight Mass and they gathered that night, just after ten-thirty in the great hall for luxury hot chocolate. While she left Tristan manning the table where guests could have huge dollops of fresh cream, marshmallows and dark chocolate shavings added to their drinks, Jess dashed off to lay out the stockings she’d prepared on the end of everyone’s beds. She’d gone for a mix of high-end toiletries, and some of the bits and pieces Lucie and Arthur had picked up from the traders at the winter festival such as jars of homemade preserves and hand-carved tree ornaments. She’d add silk scarves for the women and ties for the men, and a few jokey items like miniature versions of childhood games such as Connect 4 and Guess Who?. Her grown up version of a selection box was to include a box of handmade Belgian chocolates, as well as the traditional satsuma and a small bag of nuts. Each item had been covered in cheerful wrappings made from recycled paper and tucked carefully inside the knitted stockings she’d found online, made by a wonderful lady who donated all her profits to a local hospice.
She made it back to the hall as everyone was putting on their coats. She caught Tristan’s eye and gave him a quick thumbs-up to let him know she was ready to go. Torches were distributed between the group and they were soon crunching across the snow-topped gravel drive towards the main gate and the old chu
rch which lay on the opposite side of the road from the castle grounds.
A steady stream of people from the village were making their way up the hill, torches bobbing and the group from the castle blended in with them as they walked through the old lychgate marking the entrance to the church’s sacred ground. Here and there among the gravestones, tiny tealights flickered where people had paused to place a memorial to a relative or friend.
The church itself was ablaze with light. Thick white pillar candles filled every stone window ledge, and two pairs of wrought-iron standing candelabras stood at the front and rear of the small interior. The candles sent strange shadows dancing on the stone walls and lit up the rich jewelled tones of the stained-glass windows. Little sprigs of holly and pine cones had been scattered along the backs of each set of pews interspersed with red-leather bound hymnals. Arthur, Lucie and the rest of the family made their way to the Ludworth pew which sat at the very front of the church at a right-angle to the pulpit. Tristan remained with Jess to help their guests find seats, then slid into the end of the pew next to her.
It was only as a hush began to settle over the congregation, she recalled she hadn’t been in a church since her wedding to Steve. She’d been such a different person back then, it was almost like watching a movie as bits and pieces of that day flashed in her mind. As she’d said to Tristan when they’d lain looking up at the stars, she would never regret the choices she’d made back then because that would mean she regretted Elijah and Isaac when they were her greatest joy. But just for a moment she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she’d stayed at the party and let Tristan kiss her. Would they have ended up standing side by side at the front of this church, or would that first flush of young love have faded after a few brief months?
The Bluebell Castle Collection Page 67
