Snowy Christmas (3 page)

She ignored the sensation. She was
not
going to be stupid enough to fall for her boss. Once, a long time
ago, she'd had a little bit of a crush on him from afar, but he
hadn't noticed her then, and was unlikely to be interested in her
now. Anyway, she didn't want to jump from one relationship straight
into another.

"It doesn't look like much now, but in the
spring, that wall is covered in snowdrops and primroses," he said.
"It's really pretty."

Emily hoped she'd still be here to see those
wildflowers bloom. First she had to impress him during her month's
trial.

"I've put your suitcases in the bedroom."

Leaving her handbag on the wide windowsill,
she followed Marcus to the open bedroom door. The room was rather
dull, decorated in sepia colors, or maybe the paint was discolored
with age. A single bed with a heavy dark-wood headboard stood
against the far wall, and a matching wardrobe, chest of drawers,
and dressing table were set against the other walls. Another window
looked out on the same view as the sitting room. Her cases were on
the floor.

"The other two doors are the bathroom and
kitchen. Take a look while I bring in your other bags."

Emily poked her head inside the windowless
bathroom and switched on the light. The room had a brown linoleum
floor and held a tub, sink, and toilet, all huge old ceramic
fixtures.

The kitchen didn't have a window either, but
the top half of the door was made of glass to borrow light from the
sitting room. It was very basic with a yellow Formica counter, a
stove, sink, and fridge.

"Sorry it's so old-fashioned," Marcus said,
returning with her last two bags. "I don't think it's been updated
since before I was born."

"It's great. Really." The place looked like
something out of the 1950s, but Emily didn't mind. This was her
private space—at least for the next month. Instead of having to
find a place to live and pay rent, she could use all the money she
earned to pay off her credit card debt.

"I'll buy you a microwave oven and a new TV,
and anything else you need."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Emily bit her lip and gave Marcus a sideways
glance, trying to assess his attitude. She didn't trust men who
were too nice to her, although he was hardly likely to be after her
money, seeing he had tons of it and she had none. And he was
unlikely to be after anything else from her. Marcus was so far out
of her league, he was in another universe.

"You'll need to make your bed," he said, and
her cheeks warmed, wondering if he'd guessed her thoughts. "I'll
show you where the linen closet is."

He led her back along the shadowy corridor,
Snow White and Peggy trotting with them. Behind one of the brown
doors, he revealed a room of slatted wooden shelves stacked with
towels and linen.

"Wow. This is amazing." The room was warm and
smelled of clean laundry with a slight hint of mustiness. Emily
wandered between the shelves, examining the fine lace-trimmed
tablecloths and napkins embroidered with the Bramwell motif of an
angel inside a Tudor rose.

"Most of this is out of the ark. I haven't
been in here for ages, probably years. My ex-wife wanted all new
everything. I don't have any new single sheets, though."

The dogs both started scratching under the
shelves. Whining, Snow White pushed her nose beneath a shelf and
dragged out some dust bunnies with her claws.

"Snowy, stop it."

Marcus laughed. "Don't worry. She's enjoying
herself. She can probably smell mice." He shoved the dust back
under the shelf with the toe of his shoe. "I guess the maids aren't
very thorough. Not that I'm surprised. We've been through endless
maids. Gabriella, my ex, wanted the place spotless, but had an
aversion to maids being in the house. Obviously the first requires
the second."

He grinned. "It's such a relief she's out of
my life for good. You're the first person to know. I am officially
divorced. I got the letter from my lawyer this morning."

Emily wasn't sure if she should offer
congratulations. "I'm pleased for you, but it must be horrible to
go through that." It had been bad splitting up without all the
legal hassle of a marriage. Although, if she had been married to
Vicente, maybe she'd have received a financial settlement, and
recovered some of the money she'd spent on renovating his
restaurant.

The dark cloud of self-loathing settled over
her at the thought, as always. Snow White seemed to sense Emily's
mood change, and pressed against her legs.

"Oh, baby." Emily picked her up. "Sorry. Am I
upsetting you?"

"What happened?" Marcus asked.

"Nothing." Even as the words left her lips,
part of her wished she could tell him about her past. Confiding in
someone might help, but not in her boss. A wealthy, successful man
like Marcus couldn't begin to understand what it was like to be
taken advantage of and make such a mess of one's life.

Emily stood on the third step of the grand staircase
at Rosemoor Hall and ran her hand down the beautifully patterned,
silky wood of one of the Rosemoor angels that topped the bottom
newel posts.

Years ago, she'd come to the hall on a school
visit, and been fascinated by the carved angels. Footsteps on the
stairs attracted her attention, and Marcus's shiny black shoes came
into view. Her gaze traveled up his legs, taking in his beautifully
tailored dark suit, white shirt, and gold tie. Her heart leaped and
skittered, and she clutched the stair handrail for support. Gosh,
he looked good in a suit.

"Good morning," he said, his smile warm.

Emily's heel caught as she stepped back out
of his way, and she stumbled down a step.

He grasped hold of her arm. "Careful."

"I'm okay." She drew in a calming breath and
sighed it out in appreciation. The man didn't just look amazing, he
smelled good too. It was the same spicy fragrance she'd noticed in
his car, yet freshly applied, giving it a tang that nipped at her
senses.

"All dressed up?" she said.

"It's Sunday. I'm off to church."

"Ah." Church wasn't even on her radar. She
hadn't been for years.

Marcus didn't release her arm until she was
safely at the bottom of the stairs on solid ground. Even after he
let go, the imprint of his strong fingers still tingled.

"Were you admiring the angels?"

Emily cleared her throat and tried to sound
professional. "Yes. Snowy and I have been familiarizing ourselves
with the rooms you use for public events. I remember the angels
from a school trip years ago. The wood is so beautiful."

"The newel posts and the angels on top are
made from the trunk of a cherry tree. In 1602, the youngest son of
the family, Edward Bramwell, fell in love with a milkmaid, and
legend has it they used to meet beneath the tree."

Marcus stared up at the angels, giving Emily
a chance to admire him some more. He looked good in jeans and a
sweater, but in a suit he was breathtaking.

"Of course, he wasn't allowed to marry her,
and years later when he outlived his older brother and inherited
Rosemoor Hall, he had the tree made into the two newel posts. The
angels on top were destined to stare at each other in unrequited
love for all eternity."

Emily was a little taken aback by the story's
conclusion, and returned her attention to the carved angelic forms.
"I expected the romance to have a happy ending. Aren't the angels
supposed to be lucky?"

Marcus laughed, a rich rolling tenor that
filled the grand hall. "They are. There's no logic to these old
tales."

Peggy and Snow White had been chasing around
the rows of conference chairs set out in the great hall. Now Peggy
carried a dirty yellow tennis ball to Marcus and dropped it at his
feet.

"Duty calls," he said. "I'm going to take
Peggy for a quick run before I leave." He strode away then slowed
to glance back. "Would you like to come to church with me?"

The invitation took her by surprise. Suitable
items from her wardrobe flashed through her mind. She had a
long-sleeved dress that might work with her black leather
boots.

"What will you do with Peggy during the
service?"

"She stays in the car when the weather's not
hot. She's happier there than at home on her own. Snowy can keep
her company."

The prospect of going anywhere with Marcus
was tantalizing, spending hours breathing in his delicious
fragrance, listening to his smooth tenor voice, and seeing him in
that wonderful suit. It should be illegal for a man to look that
good.

Peggy circled Marcus, her ball in her mouth,
whining.

"If you decide to come, I'll see you outside
in ten minutes." He strode off, and Emily stared after him.

She crouched and stroked Snow White's ears.
"You want to go with Peggy, don't you?" Her little dog's tail
wagged harder.

If Emily were sensible, she'd get back to her
self-guided tour and let Marcus go, but she could do with an
outing. At least attending church was free.

Emily hurried back to her apartment. She shed
her jeans and glasses, then dragged her blue winter dress over her
head. She pulled the elastic tie off her ponytail and brushed her
hair out. In front of the spotted mirror in the bathroom, she put
in her contact lenses, and added mascara, lipstick, and a stroke of
blush. Then she yanked on her boots, grabbed her coat, and dashed
for the back door with Snow White's blue leash in her hand.

As she stepped outside, Marcus rounded the
corner of the building, head held high, his breath steaming in the
cold air, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. He wore the
lord-of-the-manor look very well.

Attraction pinged her nerves, and she told
herself she didn't have a crush on him.

• • •

Emily climbed out of Marcus's car by the Rosemoor
Village church and deposited Snow White on the backseat with Peggy.
The two dogs curled up beside each other, looking adorable
together.

"Oh, look at them."

Marcus chuckled as he closed the door and
locked the car. "They've certainly taken to each other."

More cars were parking nearby, and many
people walked towards the church. Marcus greeted people by name,
frequently stopping to shake hands. Many of these villagers had
known Emily since she was a child, but they obviously didn't
recognize her, probably because she'd lost so much weight since she
left.

The one person who did recognize her was her
grandmother. The old woman raised a hand in greeting as she
approached, and Emily hurried towards her.

Emily hugged the short, plump woman, smiling
at the memories that gesture evoked.

"Ned told me you were back, dear. Why didn't
you come by to see me?"

"Sorry, Grandma. I've been busy looking for a
job." And too ashamed of her predicament to admit to her
grandmother why she'd returned to Rosemoor.

"I gather you and that Spanish man have
parted company."

Emily nodded. She really didn't want to
discuss this now. "I've got a new job. I've just started work as
the housekeeper at Rosemoor Hall."

Her grandmother's friendly face crinkled in a
smile. "That's wonderful, dear. You can tell me all about it after
the service. Are you going to sit with me?"

Emily wasn't sure. Surely Marcus didn't
expect her to sit in the Bramwell family pew at the front of the
church. She glanced around and located him by the church door,
apparently waiting for her.

"Marcus gave me a ride here. I'm not sure if
I should sit with him."

Her grandmother's eyebrows rose as she
noticed Marcus waiting. "Looks like you'd better go, dear. Pop in
and see me soon."

Emily joined the people heading for the
church door. When she reached Marcus, he stood aside to let her
pass and then rested a hand on her back as they stepped inside.

People who'd ignored her now looked on
curiously. Her cheeks warmed, and she avoided making eye contact
with anyone as she ran the gauntlet of the inquisitive stares all
the way down the aisle to the front pew.

The other members of the Bramwell family were
already seated.

"Hello, Emily." Jennifer greeted her with a
smile. "How's your little princess?"

"She's doing well, thank you. She and Peggy
have made friends."

Chloe smiled and Owen nodded. Marcus
introduced her to his brother, Jonathan, and his wife, Vicky, and
their little girl, Isabelle, who was wriggling in Jonathan's arms.
It took her a few moments to notice Jonathan was blind, and she
remembered hearing he'd been injured in Afghanistan.

Emily sat between Jennifer and Marcus,
feeling awkward and out of place. She glanced over her shoulder at
the faces behind and quickly averted her gaze. If these people knew
who she was, they'd think she didn't belong in the privileged front
pew.

When the service ended, she couldn't wait to
get outside and back to Snow White.

"See you at the Fat Goose in a few minutes,"
was Marcus's parting comment to the rest of his family.

"What?" Emily whispered, touching his
sleeve.

"We're going to have Sunday lunch at my
cousin's pub. You don't have anywhere you need to be, do you?"

"Well, no." But she couldn't afford to pay
for an expensive meal at a trendy pub. Sweat prickled under her
arms as she walked towards the car and wished she hadn't come.

The sight of Snow White standing up at the
side window of Marcus's car, her little ears pricked and her black
eyes sharp and bright with excitement at the sight of Emily, helped
lift her mood. How quickly she'd fallen in love with this little
dog, and it seemed the feeling was mutual.

When Marcus unlocked the vehicle, Emily
picked up her sweet dog's wriggly, excited body for a hug, while
Marcus made a fuss of Peggy.