Reawakened by His Christmas Kiss Page 8

  He set the mugs on a small table and looked over at the huge tree set in a corner of the room. ‘Okay,’ he said, trying to push the past back where it belonged. ‘Who wants to decorate the tree?’

  ‘Me! Me!’

  The girls nearly upset their hot chocolate in their bid to get to the box of ornaments first.

  ‘Thank goodness John put the lights on when he brought the tree in,’ said Alex, her eyes narrowed in amusement as she watched the girls delve into the large box Finn had brought down from the box room earlier. ‘They might have combusted if they’d had to wait any longer.’

  She wrapped her hands around the large mug, lowering her nose to the fragrant chocolate and inhaling deeply.

  ‘Thank you, Finn.’

  ‘For what? The hot chocolate? I was making it anyway.’

  But she didn’t respond to his teasing smile. ‘For not telling anyone who I am.’

  ‘Alex...’ Her name felt natural now. It suited this new incarnation. It was a name as anonymous as she seemed to be, yet with so many different layers and interpretations. ‘It is completely within my interests to keep your secret. I want people to talk about Blakeley—of course I do. But I want them to talk about the local produce in the farm shop and the scones in the café, the treetop trail and the treasure hunt in the house, not to be sidetracked by old gossip. I’d much prefer that no one has the faintest idea who you are.’

  ‘Then why hire me? And how did you even track me down?’

  Finn inhaled, the scent of chocolate mixing with the pine tree and permeating the room. So, they were going to have this conversation. Well, maybe it was time. Maybe it was time he finally told her the truth. Maybe it was time to set the past free.

  ‘Finn? I think I deserve some answers.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘You do.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘HOW DID YOU find me?’ Alex repeated. She fixed her gaze on him firmly and waited.

  Finn slanted a look towards Saffron and Scarlett, but they were intent on the tree, deliberating over where a Christmas angel Alex recognised as one she’d picked up in Prague should go. She’d never expected that he would still have the ornaments she’d bought him. Never expected to see them hung on a tree in Blakeley Castle. It shook all that she’d thought she knew. About him, about them.

  She swallowed and waited some more. He set his hot chocolate down on a side table and leaned against the sofa arm, looking out of the window at the white mist swirling along the frost-covered lawn.

  ‘Returning to Blakeley brought back old memories,’ he said abruptly. ‘But I had my own personal reasons to return. Reasons that have nothing to do with you. My ancestors are as much a part of this castle as yours, even if no one really cares about the people who spent their lives in the kitchens and the gardens, no matter how many generations they dedicated to serving the castle.’

  ‘I care. And I don’t dispute your claim on Blakeley. If I can’t be here to look after the castle, then there’s no one I’d rather it should be than you.’

  ‘Really?’

  His eyebrows rose in disbelief, but she nodded, reinforcing her statement.

  ‘Finn, how can anyone own history? We’re only ever custodians of a place like Blakeley. Now the castle has a custodian who loves her and knows her, respects her. That’s a wonderful thing.’

  She meant every word, but her chest ached with loss and regret as she spoke. She hoped he didn’t sense her wistfulness, saw only her sincerity.

  ‘Thank you. That means a lot.’

  ‘So?’ she prompted. ‘You’re back here and you need a temporary PR person and what? It’s a huge coincidence that you chose me.’

  ‘No. Not a coincidence. I’ve known where you are for six months.’

  She froze. ‘That long? How? Why? Were you looking for me?’

  Damn it, was that hope she was feeling? Hope that he had been searching for her? That she hadn’t been lost after all?

  ‘Not straight away.’ He stopped abruptly, jaw tightening. ‘I should have,’ he said, his voice resonant with regret. ‘I should have come straight after you at the time...shouldn’t have allowed you to walk away without an explanation. But for the first few days afterwards I was too hurt, too angry to speak to you. You were so sure I was guilty. After all we had been to each other, after all we’d said, you thought I’d sell photos of you to the press. Those photos.’

  The utter disbelief in his expression floored her. Hurt and anger were still evident in that disbelief. Had she got it so wrong? But who else could it have been? She’d sent the photos to him, not to anyone else...

  ‘I’d have given anything for it not to be you. The papers were full of people who I’d trusted, who I’d thought cared about me, spilling every last sordid detail about my family. You needed money. You said so yourself. To help Nicky, to get to university...’

  ‘And so I sold you for thirty pieces of silver? Did you really believe that? Do you still?’

  ‘I...’

  Of course she had. It had been the last revelation. The one that had tipped her from holding on to falling, falling into a dark, dark place. But now? Seeing all he had achieved, and more importantly what he was doing with that success—opening up the estate, working with inner city schools, raising his nieces... These were the actions of a decent man, not a man who would betray someone who’d loved him.

  And, truthfully, nothing he had done back then had shown him to be capable of such an act. He’d been her one constant after all.

  ‘Finn...’ But she couldn’t speak, and the silence thickened, broken only by the chatter of the girls, their words washing over Alex.

  ‘I waited too long,’ he said after a while. ‘I waited for you to come back and apologise. And by the time I could see more clearly, by the time I understood, you had disappeared.’

  ‘What did you understand?’ she whispered; throat thick with fear. She wasn’t sure she could cope with his answer.

  ‘I understood that you needed to blame someone for the way things fell apart. How could you blame your dad when he was no longer around to blame? And you always made every excuse for your mother. You had to blame me. I had to be the scapegoat. I knew that it was up to me, that I had to go to you. But, even though it had been just a few days since I’d seen you last, I couldn’t find you anywhere. Not in any of the usual places, not with any of the usual people. In the end I told myself that you would show up eventually. I hoped to see you back in the gossip columns and on billboards within months, riding out the scandal. But months went by and you didn’t appear in any headlines or adverts. It was as if you had been airbrushed out of existence and I knew I had lost you in every way possible. It didn’t stop me hoping that one day you would turn up, that I would see you again, but finally I had to accept that you didn’t want me to find you, that you didn’t want anyone. I had to do my best to move on, to build my business and my life.’

  Alex stood stock-still, her mind digesting every word he’d said, turning each phrase over and over and trying to make sense of it all. ‘You had to have sold them,’ she said. ‘I only sent them to you. You needed money and you had them. There was no one else.’

  He folded his arms and said nothing, but she saw his eyes flicker towards the still absorbed girls and clarity almost blinded her.

  ‘It was Nicky.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nicky...’

  Of course. She would have been able to access Finn’s phone—goodness knew he’d always been mislaying it. She’d needed money and she’d always disliked Alex. How had she not realised at the time? Maybe Finn was right. She had had to blame someone and he’d been right there, her one constant. She’d lashed out and driven him away just when she needed him most.

  All this time she’d thought he had betrayed her, but she had betrayed him. The ache in her chest intensified, constricting her
and making it hard to breathe. ‘Finn, I—’

  But he held up a hand to cut her off. ‘Don’t. Like I said, you needed a scapegoat. I was there. It’s fine. It was long ago. I moved on and moved out, after realising my presence here wasn’t going to save my father or change Nicky. I needed to start working for the future I’d always promised myself. To concentrate on university and a life of my own.’

  ‘You’ve achieved that, all right.’ Alex looked around at the original pieces of art on the walls, at the two happy girls, giggling over a bauble. ‘Achieved so much. You should be so proud.’

  ‘But I never stopped thinking about you. I’ve always known I could have done more, should have done more when you needed me. I hoped you were with your mother in the States, happy and fulfilled, but I always knew that was a long shot.’ He sighed. ‘I just wanted closure, I suppose. This last year, worrying about Saffy, buying the castle, just made me realise I hadn’t really moved on, that maybe I never completely would.’

  ‘Did you hire a detective?’

  Alex sat on the window seat, her back to the wall, needing as much physical support as she could get. Because if Finn could track her down, then who else could? With the renewed interest in Blakeley it was surely a matter of time before another Where is Lola? piece ran. What if a journalist really wanted answers? Look at Isma, just a couple of days ago, not even suspecting that the woman she wanted was standing right there.

  ‘No. I considered it, several times, especially at the beginning. But back then I couldn’t afford it, and later it didn’t seem right...not when you had gone to such lengths to disappear. I tried to resign myself to living with the guilt, with never knowing, but I couldn’t stop myself looking for you wherever I went, ridiculous as I knew that was. And then I was invited to a ball...’

  ‘A ball?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise. It so wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting.

  Alex quickly ran through a mental list of all the charity balls she had helped organise over the last few months.

  ‘A Midsummer Ball. The invite came from a guy I studied with briefly at the Sorbonne—a guy who just happens to be an archduke.’

  Alex nodded slowly. All the pieces were coming together. ‘Laurent?’

  ‘Laurent,’ he confirmed. ‘At one point I was talking to him and he was so busy staring at a woman—your friend—he was barely focussing on what I was saying. When I looked over too, she was talking to a tall woman dressed in black. A woman I knew instantly. Although she had a different name, I knew that Alexandra Davenport and Lola Beaumont were the same person.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come and see me? Pick up the phone? Why make me come here after everything?’

  ‘Because in just the brief glimpse I had of you it seemed that you had changed fundamentally, Alex. Not just your name, but you. It was as if the fire that used to fuel you had gone out. It got me wondering if I wasn’t the only one who needed closure. I spent the next six months wondering what the right move would be—and of course I had the girls to settle into their new schools, the move of the business to manage, the opening up of the castle. Part of me wondered if you would hear about what was happening at Blakeley and contact me. Then Penelope was injured, and it just seemed the time was right. When I phoned that evening I thought I’d speak to you, so when Amber picked up it threw me somewhat. That was why I said I’d brief you when you got here. I wondered if you would simply refuse to come, but it didn’t cross my mind that you had no idea I’d hired you.’

  As he finished, he picked up their cups and headed back to the kitchen. Alex watched the door swing shut. She shivered. Sitting there in her old family room, with the past excavated, was almost more than she could bear—and yet for reasons she couldn’t articulate to herself she was reluctant to leave, although she knew she should.

  ‘Alex, we can’t reach any higher.’

  Saffron’s voice drew her attention back to her surroundings and, shaking off her thoughts, Alex slid to her feet. It was Christmas and she was home again. It might be temporary, but Finn was right. She did need closure—and she also needed to remember the good times. Like the many evenings spent in this room with Mrs Atkinson and Finn. Preparing for Christmas with the scent of spice in the air as she and Finn decorated their own tree.

  ‘Okay. But if I am going to help with a Christmas tree then you know what we need?’

  Both girls stared at her wide-eyed and Alex brandished her phone. ‘Christmas music, that’s what.’

  She searched through her library until she found the playlist Amber had shared with them all on the morning of the first of December. A playlist she had barely glanced at, let alone played. She hit the button.

  As Mariah began to tell them what she wanted for Christmas, Alex stepped over to the tree and held out her hand for an ornament. ‘This is your tree, girls, so you tell me where you want things to go. Okay?’

  ‘Okay!’ Scarlett handed her a delicate silver pinecone and stared solemnly at the tree. ‘I want that to go there.’

  She pointed at a spot near Alex’s ear, and equally solemnly, with ceremonial care, Alex hooked the shining ornament onto the branch.

  ‘‘You’ve done a great job so far.’

  Alex stood back and surveyed her handiwork before scanning the opulently decorated tree, laden with delicate baubles and ornaments in every colour and style imaginable. A crystal reindeer hung next to a jolly carved wooden snowman, and a pottery Father Christmas beamed at a gold angel. It was as far from the stylised, professionally decorated tree in the ballroom as possible. It was perfect.

  She held out her hand. ‘You guys have quite the collection. Next.’

  ‘They’re all Uncle Finn’s. He always brings us new ones, wherever he goes. Oh, my favourite!’ Saffy said, clapping her hands together before reverentially picking up a small wooden box and opening it.

  Nestled inside was a perfect red glass apple. Alex caught her breath. Finn still had it all these years later.

  ‘Oh...’ Scarlett’s lip wobbled as she scanned the bottom of the box. ‘Look, Saffy, we’re almost done and there’s still the whole top of the tree to do. We haven’t got enough.’

  Alex palmed the small red apple, feeling the cool glass against her skin and cringing for her fifteen-year-old self—of all the things to buy the seventeen-year-old boy you had a crush on. She’d almost died of embarrassment when she handed it over and saw the hastily hidden surprise on his face. She should have bought him a T-shirt or a Yankees hat—but, no, she’d bought him an ornament. Yet he still had it. And all the others she’d picked up over the next two years. Had them and had added to them.

  ‘Don’t worry, Scarlett, a place like Blakeley Castle has lots of hidden treasure. Wait here. I bet we can finish this tree off perfectly.’

  * * *

  Finn pushed the door open with his shoulder, balancing the tray carefully. Mrs Atkinson would approve; the crisps and nuts were in glass bowls. He set the tray down and picked up a glass of wine before realising that Alex was nowhere to be seen. Had she slipped away? Had he pushed too hard?

  ‘Has Alex gone?’ He made the question as light as possible, as if the answer barely concerned him. The last thing he wanted was for the girls to realise there was anything wrong. ‘Is that music yours? I didn’t know you two liked The Pogues.’ It was great that they had such good taste, but he didn’t think this song was entirely suitable.

  ‘What’s a Pogue?’ Scarlett asked, wandering over to lean on his leg, one small hand straying towards the bowl of crisps.

  Saffron looked up from the ornament she was examining. ‘Alex has gone to look for treasure.’

  ‘For treasure?’

  ‘For the tree. We ran out of ornaments.’

  ‘We did go for the biggest tree we could find. I suppose it was always a possibility.’

  Finn suppressed a smile as he walked over to admire the tree. T
he bottom two-thirds was so full of decorations there was barely a patch of green to be found, but the top third was all bare branches, with just one silver cone and a solitary red apple. He reached one finger out and sent the apple spinning.

  ‘Okay, who wants to excavate some treasure?’

  Alex backed into the room, her arms full with a large, dusty cardboard box, and Finn hastily stepped over to her, relieving her of the box.

  ‘Thanks. It’s not heavy, but it is large.’

  ‘Where did you find that?’ Saffron asked.

  Alex smiled. ‘I followed the clues to the attic. Now, shall we see what’s inside?’

  Carefully the girls lifted the lid and peered inside.

  ‘Ornaments!’ Scarlett yelled. ‘Look!’

  But Saffron just looked at Alex, her forehead pinched suspiciously. ‘How did you know where to find them?’

  ‘I’ve been here before,’ Alex said. ‘A long time ago. It’s okay, Saffron. Your Uncle Finn owns everything in the castle. You can use these. I think the former owner would be very happy to see them hung on a tree again.’

  Saffron considered Alex’s words for one long moment and then she nodded. A second later she was on her hands and knees beside Scarlett, unpacking the treasures and laying them out on the coffee table.

  Thank you, Finn mouthed at Alex, unsure whether he was thanking her for reassuring Saffron, getting the ornaments or just for being there.

  ‘Look!’ Scarlett held up a red glass apple. ‘It’s the twin of yours, Uncle Finn.’

  ‘And so is this angel!’

  ‘And this reindeer.’

  ‘Don’t forget I lived here before,’ Finn said, his gaze not leaving Alex’s.

  He couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to, and the air crackled as he watched her. Her hair had tumbled out of its usual smooth knot and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes soft.

  Neither girl found his answer odd, although it didn’t really make any sense, and continued to sort the ornaments.