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
