glad you like it,” she said, before casually gathering the other women up somehow and shepherding them towards the doorway. Nate watched closely and still wasn’t sure how she did it. “Why don’t you three head downstairs. You can have a chat about whether these rooms will fit your needs. I just need a quick word with Nate, then I’ll meet you in the lobby so we can go through to look at the reception rooms and talk about the menus.”
As the door shut behind them Nate heard Ruth saying quite firmly, “I am sleeping in that bed on my wedding night.”
Carrie looked at him in silence after they’d gone, long enough for Nate to begin to feel uncomfortable before she finally spoke. “You know, you’ve ruined my big finish.”
“Oh?” It helped that Carrie’s conversational style took after her grandmother’s, he thought. If he hadn’t known Nancy, he might think his new boss was cross with him.
“Yes. I started them up here so we could work up to the dining room, which was the only room that looked halfway decent. I thought a big finish might make them forget how dreadful the bridal suite was.” She smiled, finally. “Now, all Ruth’s going to be thinking about is deflowering poor Graeme on that wonderful bed. Wherever did you find it? All of this?”
Nate shrugged. “I had help.”
“The Seniors?”
“The bed belonged to Cyb’s brother-in-law. It’s been sitting in storage since he died six years ago, because no one had a room big enough for it.” Nate reached out and ran a finger down the carving on the bedpost. “Bless her, she only remembered about it yesterday. But she’s spoken with her nephews and nieces, and harangued them into donating it to the inn. You might have to give them a couple of free nights’ stay, though.”
“Happily,” Carrie said, staring up at the canopy. “But I’m telling you now, I’m having a night in this bed. Soon.”
Nate’s mind filled with a number of very inappropriate visions of Carrie Archer spread out across Cyb’s brother-in-law’s bed, red hair tousled on the white sheets, eyes as full of longing as they were when she looked at it. She was his boss, he reminded himself, and besides, she only looked like that because she hadn’t slept in about a fortnight.
Before he had a chance to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat and find his voice, Carrie sighed and looked away, her eyes just tired again. “I’d better go and catch them up,” she said, turning to the door. “I don’t want to leave Anna and Selena alone together for too long.”
Nate nodded and, as she left, finally found enough voice to call after her, “Stop by and let me know how it all goes, later.” If you’re not already enjoying the bed, he added silently.
No matter how tired he was, Nate was pretty sure sleep was going to be hard to come by that night, alone in the drafty summerhouse, imagining Carrie up here in the wooden four-poster.
* * * *
Apparently, ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby’ was too confusing an instruction for Carrie’s guests. “They grabbed your uncle from the bar and went through to the dining room,” Izzie told her as she arrived in Reception. Carrie didn’t bother asking why Izzie hadn’t stopped them; she just sighed and headed towards the double doors. That was the problem with family. They thought they had free rein to wander through her life, causing havoc.
The dining room at least looked functional as a reception space, but she’d hoped to have a chance to talk up all the improvements they had planned before they actually saw it. She’d just have to hope the lure of a really great bed would be enough for Ruth to sweet talk her mother into the booking.
But once she stepped through into the dining room, Carrie saw why they couldn’t wait. When she’d last checked the room, in the early hours of that morning, the tables had been laid with plain white cloths, the chairs draped with covers. It had distracted, a little, from the purple and green paisley carpet. Not to mention the matching curtains hanging over the eight windows around two walls of the room. But it wasn’t exactly inspiring.
But now...
Pale lilac and white blooms tempered the vibrant pink of Nate’s bargain flowers, arranged in a mismatched collection of cut-glass vases. Over the plain white cloths Carrie had found for the tables, someone had laid lace cloths, yellowing with age, each one slightly different. And at each place-setting, instead of the full set of plain white china she’d intended, was a teacup and saucer on top of a side plate. The range of patterns in the china was phenomenal. Ditsy floral prints, willow pattern, art deco designs—and Carrie was almost willing to bet that not one single piece matched another that paired it.
Across each of the curtain rails, white fairy lights had been hung in a way Carrie feared might be a fire hazard. But they looked spectacular, so she decided she didn’t care.
“Oh, my God, Carrie, I love this room!” Ruth cried, spotting Carrie in the doorway.
“It certainly is an improvement,” Selena said, running a finger along the rim of a teacup.
Anna was more practical. “How many does it seat?”
“Ten tables of ten,” Carrie answered promptly. “Plus the top table. So, around a hundred and ten.”
“We can cut the guest list, can’t we, Mum?” Ruth said. “I never really wanted to invite the Andersons, anyway.”
“The carpet and curtains will be changed, of course,” Selena went on, ignoring her daughter.
“Of course. And the booking can include sole use of the property, including the bars and drawing rooms, so there’ll be plenty of space for your guests to spread out.” Carrie didn’t mention the additional cost for securing sole use, or the fact it was highly unlikely anyone else would want to be there anyway. Except the Seniors, of course.
“We’d need to book out all the bedrooms.” Carrie tried not to get too excited, but it sounded as if Selena was actually considering it. “And we’d need more accommodation besides.”
“There are a number of lovely hotels and inns in the area,” Carrie said, hoping they wouldn’t decide to go and look at them until after they’d paid a deposit on the Avalon. “I’d be happy to give you names and addresses, or contact them on your behalf.”
Ruth looked between her parents, pleading expression in place. Carrie wasn’t sure it would be enough to make them go along with it on its own, but maybe along with everything else…
“What do you think, Anna?” Uncle Patrick asked, and Carrie’s heart clenched. Here it was: the other side of the story.
“I can see you all have a sentimental attachment to the place, and I agree that the building itself has great potential. But to get this place up to scratch for a wedding as prestigious as your daughter’s…that will take a lot of money. And time. And expertise.” She turned to Carrie with a false-looking smile. “No offence meant, but I’m not sure Carrie has enough of any of those things to make it work.”
You can’t do this.
Anna had no idea what she was capable of, Carrie reminded herself. All she’d ever seen her do was obey orders, do what other people wanted her to do.
Carrie wasn’t that girl any more. And she definitely
