Читать книгу Their One-Night Christmas Gift - Karin Baine - Страница 12

CHAPTER TWO Two months later

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EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE on this road trip had been telling Harriet to have a merry Christmas. From the radio presenters accompanying her on this journey, to the few strangers she’d encountered along the way, to the very weather, they’d been insisting she should be enjoying Christmas Day.

There was a fat chance of that happening, thanks to Charles, and now she was about to ruin his day too. She was happy to do this alone and more than capable. The only reason she was coming all this way was to give him the chance to step up to his obligations this time instead of walking away. He could tell her face to face if he didn’t want any part of this, then they wouldn’t have to see each other ever again.

The drive to Scotland had been long but uneventful thanks to the lull in traffic. Most people had chosen to stay at home celebrating with family and loved ones. How ironic when she had neither, but next year things would be different. Her whole life was about to change if she didn’t take steps to secure the one she already had.

The closer she got to the Ross-Wylde family estate, the harder and faster her heart pounded and her stomach churned. Both from the conversation she had to have with Charles, and the last one they’d had at Heatherglen. She’d never imagined returning to the very place where she’d left her heart.

Road signs directed her towards the clinic that had essentially stolen Charles from her. Where he’d committed to setting up a life as the director there and Laird of the estate, instead of as her husband.

The drive up through the hills to her destination was as familiar to her as the last time she’d seen it, albeit through tear-filled eyes back then. It was dark now, the winter night so all-consuming it had swallowed up the colourful patchwork of countryside she knew surrounded her. All that remained were the inky shadows of the trees towering on either side of the winding road leading to Charles’s ancestral home.

Buildings new and old appeared in view but her focus was entirely on the castle itself. With lights blazing in every window and the porch decorated with Christmas wreaths and garlands, it was a welcoming sight. An invitation to visitors that at least one of the residents might come to regret. She hadn’t called or texted ahead so she had the element of surprise and could gauge Charles’s true reaction to her news.

Harriet parked her car behind the others, which all had a dusting of snow like icing sugar on a sponge cake, and it was obvious no one had left the premises today. They’d been too busy having a good time, to judge by the sounds of music and laughter filtering through the crisp night air as she made her way to the entrance. There was a twinge of jealousy thinking of him celebrating the festive season here with family when she had no one. She rested her hand on her belly—flat for now. In another few months it would be a different story.

This wasn’t about forcing him back into her life. She’d managed quite well without him these past years and she wasn’t expecting anything from him now. Harriet wasn’t that naïve. A baby hadn’t been part of the deal, but she wanted to do the right thing by informing him of the pregnancy at least. With his track record she didn’t believe he’d want to be involved and so she would let him know she didn’t need anything from him. Her plan was simply to tell him and walk away, leaving them both with a clear conscience over the matter.

Before she could make her way up the stone steps, a door further along the castle burst open and all the warmth and excitement from inside spilled out.

‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise there was anyone out here. Are you here for the clinic?’ The petite, smiling blonde looked familiar.

‘Esme? Is that you?’ She’d only been a teenager when Harriet had last seen her, but there was no doubt that was who she was looking at. It was those dazzling blue eyes, so much like her brother’s, that gave away her identity.

‘Yes? Can I help you?’ There was no sign of recognition from the woman who’d almost been her sister-in-law but for all Harriet knew Charles could’ve had a procession of fiancées over the years. She couldn’t be certain Esme would even remember her if she introduced herself.

‘Esme, will you close the door, please? You’re letting the cold in.’ Charles’s irritated voice sounded from inside right before he marched out to see what the commotion was on the doorstep.

It was then Harriet wondered what on earth she’d been thinking by turning up here tonight instead of waiting to speak to him on his own. In truth she hadn’t been thinking clearly at all the second she’d seen the positive pregnancy test in her hand. She’d simply packed a bag and headed off to Scotland rather than spend the day considering what the consequences of their night of passion meant for her.

‘Harriet?’ He peered out into the darkness, glass of whisky in hand.

‘Sorry. I didn’t realise you’d have company.’ She was prepared to walk away from the heated conversation she’d imagined having inside rather than discuss it in front of an audience.

‘Harriet? Harriet Bell?’ Esme let out a squeal and launched herself at Harriet, hugging her so tight she could no longer feel the cold, or much else.

‘Esme, put her down.’ Despite their more mature years, big brother Charles still spoke to her the way all boys did to their irritating little sisters. And, as all little sisters tended to do, Esme ignored him completely.

‘What on earth are you doing here? It’s been, what, ten years?’ She had her arm around Harriet’s shoulders now, steering her past the main entrance to the house to a side door.

‘Twelve, but who’s counting?’ She managed to dodge answering the question when it was apparent Charles hadn’t shared any details of even having met her at the convention. There should have been no reason for him to do so when they’d agreed to forget it had ever happened. Something they could no longer afford to do.

‘It’s good to see you.’ Charles kissed her chastely on the cheek as she entered his ancestral home, probably for his sister’s benefit. If he’d answered the door he might not have let her over the doorstep. This definitely hadn’t been part of the arrangement.

‘You too.’ The brief contact was enough to fluster her and she hoped she could explain away her reddening skin with the cold.

‘We use the main house for the clinic now. Esme and I have private rooms in another wing. We converted the old servants’ quarters downstairs into a small kitchen and informal lounge. It affords us a little privacy from the comings and goings at the clinic. Now, can I get you a drink? A mulled wine or hot toddy to warm you up?’ He swilled the contents of his whisky glass, filling the air with scent of cinnamon and warm spices.

‘No, thanks. I’m driving. I’d take a cup of tea, though.’ She didn’t want anything, but she was hoping a trip to the kitchen would get her some privacy to speak to Charles alone.

‘Ooh, what about a hot chocolate? I can make you a double chocolate with cream and marshmallows.’ Esme’s special sounded delicious after the poor service-station efforts they’d dared to charge Harriet for during the stops she’d made on the way here.

‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ This was all so civilised and bizarre. The Ross-Wyldes were acting as though she was a neighbour who’d just happened to drop by, not an ex-fiancée who’d turned up out of the blue after an extended absence. Either they were incredibly well mannered, which she knew, or they were too worried to ask why she’d come.

Lovely Esme slipped off towards the kitchen and Charles offered to take Harriet’s coat for her. She supposed she was staying longer than she’d imagined.

‘So, you were just passing by, huh?’ He was smiling as he helped her out of her jacket.

She’d panicked when it was clear she couldn’t blurt out the real reason she was here on his doorstep. He knew there was no ‘just passing by’ when London was an eight-hour drive away, yet he didn’t seem put out by her unexpected arrival.

‘I know this wasn’t part of our deal and I’m sorry to intrude on you on Christmas night. I didn’t realise you’d have a house full of people.’ Even alluding to the ‘arrangement’ seemed salacious outside the anonymity of the hotel now, when they were in his home.

Charles, however, didn’t appear perturbed if his smile was anything to go by. ‘Oh, don’t worry. You’ve saved me from another game of charades. Esme insists on covering all the clichés of the season.’

‘That explains the outfit.’ Now they were in better lighting she could see what he was wearing. The gold paper crown suited him, but the ugly sweater was a far cry from his usual dapper suits. Although he did look pretty cute in it.

‘A present from little sis. She made it herself.’ He rolled his eyes and Harriet knew he’d suffer the indignity of being seen in it rather than hurt Esme’s feelings. If only he’d taken such consideration over her feelings when he’d broken up with her, she mightn’t have been so intent on getting closure with that one last night together.

‘That’s lovely. It’s so thoughtful for someone to put all that time and effort into making a gift.’ To her, Christmas had become just another day. There weren’t many presents beyond the odd box of chocolates or a bottle of wine from a grateful patient and she didn’t bother making an elaborate Christmas dinner just for one. She preferred to work whenever she could, this year’s exception giving her the chance to make the journey here.

‘I guess. I’m sure she’d have made you one too if we’d known you were coming.’

Harriet could tell he was curious about what had brought her here when they’d severed all contact after that unforgettable night in his hotel room.

She cleared her throat. ‘I came because there’s something we need to discuss.’

‘In that case, we should go somewhere quiet. We’re winding down from our Christmas party and there are still a few people here.’

‘That would be better.’ She didn’t want an audience for what was a very private matter.

‘What are you two still doing, standing in the hall? Charles, bring Harriet in so she can have her hot chocolate by the fire.’ Esme tutted as she chivvied them towards the lounge, but Charles resisted leaving the hallway.

‘I think Harriet would prefer somewhere more peaceful after her long journey.’

She saw the disappointment on Esme’s face and didn’t want to hurt her feelings when she’d been so welcoming. ‘I can always make time for a hot chocolate first.’

Charles seemed to understand what had brought on her change of heart and stood back to let them enter the living room in front of him.

There were a few couples engaged in conversation by the table of food along the back wall and a ruggedly handsome man, who got to his feet when he saw them, sitting by the fire.

‘Harriet, this is Dr Max Kirkpatrick. Max, this is Harriet Bell, an orthopaedic surgeon visiting from London.’

Charles made the introductions, giving little detail away, but Harriet realised it would be impolite for him to say she was the fiancée he’d dumped on inheriting the family silver. Introducing her as ‘an ex I hooked up with recently at a medical conference’ wouldn’t have been the ideal ice-breaker either. The extra bodies in the room, however, did mean she was forced to delay her news a bit longer.

‘Nice to meet you.’ She shook hands with the man, who couldn’t keep his eyes off Esme, and Harriet detected a reciprocal attraction between them. He wasn’t the last man she remembered Esme being head over heels about, but she knew better than most that love didn’t last for ever. These two still had that glow of new romance about them, which suggested they were in that phase when they found it hard to keep their hands off each other.

‘You too. Esme, didn’t you say you needed a hand with something in the kitchen?’ Max wasn’t very subtle about wanting some alone time with Esme, but Harriet didn’t begrudge them their privacy. You had to take the good times when you could find them.

‘Yes, I think I did.’ Esme set the hot chocolate on the table and hurried out with him, giggling down the hall.

Harriet couldn’t help but glance in Charles’s direction, when they’d been as keen to spend time together not long ago. To find he was looking at her with that same longing was unravelling all the tension that had set in on the drive until her limbs felt more like spaghetti. One word and she just knew they’d both agree to another no-strings tryst. Except that word wouldn’t be ‘baby’. It was going to change the way he looked and felt about her, and probably not for the better.

‘I should probably let you meet some of our staff here.’ Charles led her over to the source of the chatter she’d heard from outside.

‘Harriet Bell.’ She shook hands with the group and introduced herself.

‘Cassandra Bellow.’ The pretty American set down the plate of canapés in her hand to greet her.

‘Cassandra is one of our past patients and this is Lyle Sinclair, our medical director.’ Charles didn’t have to tell her these two were a couple either when they were glued to each other’s sides.

‘I’m Aksel Olson. I work with Esme.’ The large hand pumping hers up and down next belonged to a bear of a man who couldn’t fail to make an impression. The muscular build and Scandinavian accent coupled with the long air gave him a definite Viking vibe.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, before Charles moved her swiftly on to the woman standing next to him.

‘Flora. I’m a physio at the clinic.’

‘Hi.’ She was definitely the gooseberry here but, then, so was Charles, who didn’t seem to have a significant other in the mix. Something that hadn’t gone unnoticed and brought her a sense of relief she hadn’t known she needed. It hadn’t entered her head that he might have met someone in the weeks since they’d last seen each other. Certainly, it hadn’t been part of the deal that they couldn’t date anyone else. They weren’t supposed to see each other again. Thankfully, things wouldn’t get any more complicated than they already were.

‘And you’ve already met Esme and Max.’ Charles didn’t attempt to hide his disapproval as they reappeared with huge smiles on their faces.

‘Are you staying in Cluchlochry?’ Charles asked, as she attempted to drink her hot chocolate through the cream and marshmallow topping. It tasted as over-indulgent as it looked, and she just knew she was wearing a cream moustache as a result. As confirmed by Charles’s smirk when she lifted her head to reply.

She did her best to wipe away all traces with the back of her hand. ‘Probably. I didn’t really think that far ahead.’

It would be suicidal to attempt a return trip tonight when she was ready for bed. There was bound to be a B&B in the village where she could put her head down for the night.

Charles frowned. ‘Not everywhere would be willing to take guests in on Christmas night and those that do will be booked out. We get a lot of people who come for the Christmas market and stay on for Christmas itself.’

‘You must stay with us, Harri. There’s plenty of room.’ It was Esme who offered her refuge, not her brother. Although Harriet wanted to protest, she couldn’t face getting back into her car again so soon.

‘Esme, I really wish you wouldn’t invite every waif and stray into Heatherglen as though it’s your personal rescue centre. We converted the stables for your pet projects.’

‘No offence taken,’ Harriet muttered.

‘Sorry. That was directed at someone else.’ He nodded towards the furry bundle currently rolling around at his feet.

‘Oh, he’s gorgeous. What’s his name?’ She knelt down to stroke the curious-looking puppy with tiger-striped brown fur, which was wearing its own ugly little sweater.

‘Dougal. He was half-starved when we found him, but Aksel nursed him back to health. Esme’s trying to find him a home now.’

It was Flora who filled her in on his sad background, which just made him even more adorable.

‘My sister has issues about turning anyone away.’ Charles muttered.

‘Harriet is neither a waif nor a stray. She’s a friend who’s very welcome to stay.’ Esme overruled her older brother, using Harriet as a pawn in their sibling rivalry.

‘I didn’t say she wasn’t. I was simply making a point, Esme.’

Harriet set down her cup. ‘It would probably be easier if I look for somewhere in town to stay.’

This wasn’t what she had planned at all. By this stage she’d expected to be on her way home, with Charles thanking his lucky stars for escaping the parent trap.

‘No!’ Both Ross-Wyldes expressed their indignation at the suggestion.

‘I thought you said you wanted to talk to me about something?’

‘We have so much catching up to do, Harri.’

The group watched the pair vying for her attention with as much fascination as she was, and Charles discreetly manoeuvred the argument away from the spectators over to the far side of the room.

‘Charles is just trying to make a point—badly—about him being the king of the castle here. He runs the clinic and I run the veterinary practice and canine therapy centre across the way.’ Esme punched him not so playfully on the arm.

‘Oh, I think you mean Laird, Esme—but, yes, this isn’t about you. Forgive me, Harriet. I’ll take you up and show you to one of the spare rooms. Dear sister, perhaps you’d be so kind as to get Harriet something to eat too?’

He batted his eyelashes at Esme and Harriet knew it would be enough to persuade her to do anything. Especially when he was wearing those glasses and that jumper, which made him look more like the Charles she’d known instead of the suave version she’d met at the conference. She hoped that would keep some of the most recent, more erotic memories at bay so she could stay focused on the reason she’d come all this way.

‘I would love to—but I’m doing it for our guest, not you, Chas.’ Esme fluttered those same long dark eyelashes in response. They were so alike it was probably why they’d fought for as long as Harriet had known them. Deep down it was obvious how much they loved each other, and she wished she’d had a brother or a sister to fight with, love unconditionally, and have to hold after she’d lost everyone else.

‘We keep a few rooms made up just in case of emergencies.’ Charles led her up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. She couldn’t help but wonder which door led to his.

‘Do you get many late-night, uninvited women calling in on you?’ she teased, when he was such a stark contrast to the man who’d literally sent her packing in a previous lifetime.

‘No, I don’t, but sometimes we get patients arriving too late to be admitted to the clinic, so we put them up here for the night.’ Her teasing fell flat with him, but she supposed his defence from her insinuations was understandable when she was accusing him of having loose morals. She knew nothing about him any more.

‘I’m sure it’s most appreciated. As it is by me.’ She had to remember he was doing her a favour by letting her stay when she had no right to be here. Their risky behaviour in London had been her idea and as such she was fully prepared to take on the consequences single-handedly.

‘Bed, bathroom, wardrobe. All the essentials.’ He did a quick tour of the room before turning back to her. ‘Do you need help bringing in your luggage?’

‘I just have an overnight bag in the car, but I can manage that myself. As I said, this was a spur-of-the-moment visit.’

‘Ah, yes. The talk. Is this about what happened in London? I must admit it’s been harder to put out of my mind than I’d imagined too.’ He was moving towards her and Harriet’s heart leapt into her throat at the thought of him kissing her again. She wanted it so much but that’s not what had brought her here.

‘I’m pregnant, Charles.’

His outstretched arms immediately fell limply to his sides. ‘Pardon me?’

She sat down on the edge of the bed, wishing it would swallow her up. ‘That night in London... I’m pregnant.’

Charles collapsed onto the mattress beside her. ‘But—but we took precautions.’

‘The first time,’ she reminded him with as much of a smile as she could muster when she was wound up tighter than a drum, waiting for his reaction.

The second time had happened later, when they had both been naked under the covers and he’d reached for her, keen to do things at a slower pace and drive her wild with want before he had his way with her again. The third time, in the early hours of the morning, when she’d reached for him, knowing they would have to part again.

Conception could have happened at any point during those few passionate hours together. They’d simply been too wrapped up in each other, literally, to care. Well, they would now.

He dropped his head into his hands and she waited for him to process the information.

‘Are you sure? Have you done a test?’

‘Yes, Charles. I wouldn’t have driven all this way otherwise.’ She understood this was a shock to him, her too, but questioning her common sense wasn’t going to make the situation go away.

‘I gave up on plans for a family after we broke up. With very good reason. I don’t have time to spare for babies and all the baggage that comes with them.’ He was on his feet now, pacing the room like a caged animal. Trapped and unsure how to get out.

‘Believe me, becoming a mother wasn’t in my immediate plans either but here we are. I only came here to tell you about the baby because I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t say I wanted anything from you. You had no room in your life for me, I wouldn’t expect it to be different for your child.’ If he thought she’d waited until she was at the peak of her career to seduce him, get pregnant and force him back into her life, he’d really forgotten who she was.

‘That night was supposed to be a bit of fun. One last hurrah before we went our separate ways again. A baby means the complete opposite. We’ll be tied together for ever now. If I’d wanted that I would’ve saved us the heartbreak of splitting up twelve years ago.’

‘Okay. You’ve made your point. I don’t think there’s anything left for us to say.’ She should never have come here. Despite whatever flicker of hope she may have harboured for a different response, Charles had proved he hadn’t changed. He still had the capacity to let her down. She’d managed this far on her own and she was sure she could raise this baby alone too. It was preferable to Charles feigning interest, only to have him bail out later and make their child suffer too.


Harriet was pregnant. It was his fault for not protecting her, for getting carried away, and not thinking about the consequences of his actions. Again.

When she’d turned up on the doorstep tonight he’d hoped it was because she’d wanted a replay of that night in London. Perhaps an extended version that would have taken them into the New Year instead of one night. Mostly because he hadn’t been able to get that time together out of his head, but this was a whole different scenario.

He was waiting, hating this ridiculous sweater more than ever, for Harriet to give him some sort of clue what he was supposed to do next. Instead, she slowly rose from the bed, crossed the floor and walked out the door. It wasn’t the response he’d expected but some space would be good. Esme could keep her entertained and when he’d digested the news they could sit down and plan the next move.

Any second now Esme would come bowling up the stairs and deliver a knock-out punch once she heard what had happened. He was surprised Harriet hadn’t done just that after the way he’d spoken to her. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to finding out he was going to be a father and one he’d apologise for once this sank in. He was angry at himself, not her, when his selfish needs had resulted in this life-changing news. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was complicate her life.

Harriet’s response to his outburst was reminiscent of that awful day of his father’s funeral. She hadn’t slapped him then either, the way most women would have. Silently crying, she’d simply packed her things and walked out. He hadn’t seen or heard from her again until that conference.

At the sound of a car engine running outside, Charles rushed to the window in time to see Harriet driving away. It was déjà vu, except he couldn’t claim his actions, or lack of them now, had been in any way for her benefit.

‘Charles, what the hell have you done?’ Esme arrived, as he’d known she would, temper flaring, fists balling, ready for a fight.

‘Not now.’

‘You must have said something to make her leave like that. Are you really just going to stand here and watch her go? Again?’ That was the ultimate question. What they were going to do about the baby, how he felt about Harriet and what they did next were incidental if he let her go without a fight again. She was a successful surgeon in her own right with no need for him or his money. He was the one standing to lose out here.

‘Tell everyone to go home. The party’s over.’ He left Esme to break up the gathering before dashing downstairs to retrieve his own car keys. His child wasn’t going to grow up thinking its father was a disappointment, like the rest of his family had.

This was one time he could do the right thing without waiting until it was too late. He couldn’t live with any more guilt and regret. Losing his father and brother had taught him not to be selfish, and unless he wanted to lose his child too he had to think about the needs of its mother. That didn’t include being upset by her baby’s father. Not when she’d driven the whole way to Scotland to tell him personally on Christmas Day. Something a person would only do if they had no one else to turn to.

Their One-Night Christmas Gift

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