Sebastian wanted to believe he’d impressed the older lady with his quick thinking, but Jess’s expression remained suspicious. Eventually she smiled. ‘That’s a lovely idea. Thank you.’ She turned to Vivi. ‘Will the Macwarrens mind? Or do you think they’ll be pleased to have some time off from you?’
‘Cheeky,’ Vivi said, thrusting a carrier bag at Jess, who peered inside, then pulled out a soft parcel wrapped in Christmas paper.
‘You’ll be needing this, I fancy,’ Vivi said, gesturing to the present. ‘It’s wrapped in Christmas paper, Isla didn’t have anything else, but I want you to open it now.’
‘It feels like it’s a jumper,’ Jess said, ditching the plastic bag on a chair and sliding a finger under the sticky tape. ‘It’s notthatcold in here, Vivi.’
‘Very pleasantly warm, if you ask me. Might even get warmer if you play your cards right.’
Jess frowned at Vivi’s comment but kept her focus on the parcel. Inside was a dress. Sebastian was far from an expert when it came to dresses, but even he could see how pliable the black velvet was, how it flowed from Jess’s fingers as she found the shoulders and held it up, the material cascading almost to the ground. Jess held it against herself, and Sebastian could appreciate how it would coat her gentle curves. He swallowed, glancing at Vivi – who held his gaze for a beat longer than necessary, eyebrows arched.
‘I’m not sure when I’ll get to wear it, but thank you, Vivi. It’s really beautiful.’ Jess smiled, then folded it over her arm.
‘And so are you,’ Vivi said. ‘Now. Where’s Digby? I need my Digby fix before I go back to the village. I bet you can’t wait to get him out of your hair permanently, can you?’
The conversation moved back to safer territory, and Sebastian trailed the two women from the music room. He felt as though he’d just been spectacularly outmanoeuvred by Vivi, and he couldn’t work out if he wanted to smile at the audacity of what she’d said to him or be annoyed with himself for not thinking of it first.
As they crossed through the picture gallery, Sebastian breathed in the scent of pine and gazed up at the enormous fir freshly installed at one end of the space. Lit by strings of white lights, with clear or pearlescent baubles hanging from its boughs and dotted here and there with homemade paper shapes – angels and doves – the tree had his mother’s stamp all over it. A silver star perched on the tree’s very highest point. The whole thing looked perfect. There hadn’t been a tree like this in Kirkshield for more years than Sebastian cared to remember, and this one had taken some hauling in. Robbie had needed help from the estate manager, Ben, and one of the local farmer’s sons, to be able to move it. But the effort was worth it – and it made the space the perfect place to welcome the villagers on Christmas morning.
There was another benefit to having such a big tree in the gallery, and this one did have Sebastian grinning: someone had decided to set the tree up to one side of the end wall, rather than in the centre, and in its current position it almost completely obscured the painting of Sebastian’s father.
Chapter 30
The next few days passed in a blur, whizzing by so quickly that the arrival of Christmas Eve took Jess by surprise. But there was no escaping the date which showed front and centre on her phone, the white letters and numbers clearly visible over her artful cover photo.
She’d been really pleased with the result when she took it: a low-down shot angled up at the grey granite of the castle, with a bank of snow in the foreground, and Digby snuffling around right on the edge of the frame. It sat perfectly on the phone screen, icons on the snow, the time and date clear against the granite walls. If you looked carefully, you could make out a gargoyle at the very top of the castle, where granite crenelations gave way to a slash of blue sky.
But today she had very little time to admire her amateur photography with everything she still needed to prepare for Christmas Day lunch, and with the mince pies and other bits and bobs she’d decided to make for the Christmas carol recital the following morning. She supposed she could have asked someone to drive her to the closest supermarket, could have bought a whole load of frozen mince pies and party food, but – apart from the financial implications – she wanted to use the opportunity to show the locals how appreciated they were, how keen the family was to welcome them into the castle. And nothing saidwelcomelike a homemade mince pie, did it?
It was also a way for her to say thank you to them all – to Dorathy Keel for making her feel so at ease, and for popping in like a fairy godmother with just the right emergency supply at just the right moment; to the Macwarrens for looking after her aunt so well; and to Vivi for, well, for being Vivi. There didn’t need to be any other reason, although the Aga lessons had been much appreciated.
Sebastian had offered to help with the cooking, so long as Jess didn’t give him anything too complicated to make. And so, with Sebastian deployed with some shortcrust pastry and a bowl of grated cheddar mixed with smoked paprika to make some cheesy whirls, Jess got on with mixing some fillings for the vol-au-vents she’d baked earlier. Very nineteen-eighties they might be, but they were one of Vivi’s favourites, especially the ones filled with prawns and Marie Rose sauce.
She swirled around, multitasking with the pastry goods as well as the preparations for the following day. She had potatoes still to peel and parboil, the dreaded sprouts to sort and the challenge of how to correctly prepare the neeps – which she’d discovered was essentially mashed swede, although she was sure there was more to it than that and so would be speaking to Dorathy Keel to make sure she got it right. Jess hardly noticed when Sebastian completed his tasks and headed out of the kitchen to ‘make some calls’. She didn’t blame him; the kitchen looked like a bomb-site, the windows were running with condensation from all the steam, and with the radio blaring Christmas carols in the background he’d probably developed a headache. Grateful for small mercies, Jess reminded herself that Christian had arranged to take the whole family out for dinner, so at least she would have time then to sort out any last-minute dilemmas.
So, when an envelope addressed to Jess materialised on the kitchen table at some point after midday, Jess assumed it was a Christmas card – probably dropped in by Dorathy Keel when she’d been out of the room. But when Jess tugged open the flap, there wasn’t a red-breasted robin or a laughing Santa Claus in sight. Instead, she was holding a handwritten invitation to dinner, from Sebastian, requesting her company in the music room that evening, at eight.
She turned the card in her hand, realising it was the first time she’d seen anything handwritten by him – and, as with everything he did which allowed for artistry, the writing was beautiful.
What Jess hadn’t been expecting was the effort he had gone to for the evening. As the time on her watch ticked over to eight o’clock, she left her room and headed through the picture gallery, realising as she walked that the only lights switched on in the main part of the castle were those draped on the enormous Christmas tree. Her path was further lit by tea lights, and the sound of the piano guided her way.
Sebastian stopped playing when he heard her, twisting on the piano stool to greet her. Jess caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He was wearing black tie, the jacket slung carelessly over a chair, leaving him in his shirtsleeves, a moss-green bow-tie at his neck. The invitation had suggested formal wear, and she’d slipped into the dress Vivi had given her, thankful for her aunt’s seeming foresight, and then suspicious about the fortuitous timing. She swept the feeling aside, unable to take her gaze away from Sebastian. She’d never seen anyone wearing black tie in real life, hadn’t been prepared for how the formal quality of his clothes, the effort to dress up especially for her, would make her feel.
She’d almost decided against wearing the dress this evening, but after all the tea lights and the bottle of bubbly with a pair of glasses she could see on a tray on top of the grand piano, she was pleased she’d made the effort. No, that wasn’t true. It was the expression on Sebastian’s face which made her feel she’d made the right decision.
‘You look stunning,’ he said, rising from the stool and meeting her halfway across the room, his gaze unapologetically covering every inch of her. His attention did something strange to Jess’s belly, even as she pulled awkwardly at the unfamiliar neckline of her dress. Jess was reminded of the day Sebastian had played ‘Für Elise’ for her. The desperate urge she’d felt to kiss him. The way she’d stopped herself. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to be so strong again, especially when he looked so very handsome. Time to get a grip. Just because she felt completely unsettled by him didn’t mean anything; it certainly didn’t mean he felt the same way. He was simply putting a bit of effort into a dinner for her, a thank you before her time at the castle came to an end and they both moved on with their lives.
‘You don’t look too bad yourself,’ she countered, taking her thoughts and burying them as she smiled at him.
He handed her a glass of champagne and she tried not to sip it too quickly, tried to get her tumble of thoughts and emotions under control as he clinked her glass.
‘Slàinte Mhath,’ he said.
‘Cheers?’ she said, although it came out as more of a question.
‘Yes. Cheers.’ He grinned, the formality of her entrance gone as he took her hand and twirled her around. ‘That dress is really gorgeous, Jess.’
‘I knew Vivi was up to something,’ she countered. ‘She never does anything for no reason.’
