A Surprise Christmas Wedding
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‘Thanks. It was hard but we had no choice but to try and get through it. Before Steph started her treatment, we went for the whole Christmas to the max thing. You could barely move for decorations and presents.’ Lottie had crunched her credit card to spoil her sister and the twins, and her parents, relatives and friends had also gone a bit mad. Still, she had no regrets.
‘You must have been out of your mind with worry,’ he said softly.
‘It was hard but a hundred times harder for Steph than me.’
‘How’s she doing now?’
‘She’s OK. She has to have regular checks and the treatment had lots of after-effects but we try to stay positive. Touch wood,’ Lottie said, flattening her palm on the log’s surface. ‘One thing’s for sure, this Christmas has got to be better than last.’
He let the silence hang for a second, as if he didn’t know how to reply. Perhaps he felt uncomfortable at Lottie’s unexpected display of emotion. Many people couldn’t deal with illness and if they’d never had a close family member affected, it was impossible to imagine how they might feel. Or perhaps he didn’t even want to imagine.
There was no time for any more conversation because Lottie’s phone buzzed with a text from Shayla, asking her to return urgently to the house to meet some potential clients.
‘I really have to go. Thanks for the tree. For everything,’ she said.
‘No problem.’
Lottie nodded and scooted off to the Bothy to change again. While she scrubbed her nails, removed a spruce twig from her hair and redid her lipstick, she thought about her conversation with Jay. He’d avoided revealing anything about why he didn’t celebrate the season and had allowed her to do all the talking. Lottie thought about the reindeer, Santa’s grotto, families converging on the Christmas tree centre. Not only was Christmas the busiest time of year for Jay, he also obviously loathed it. It was the perfect storm for him.
She didn’t regret telling him about Steph, even though she didn’t talk about it much at work.
However, she’d held back the other reason that the previous Christmas had been so tough: that she’d been dealing with her own heartache over Connor but had had to force her problems into the background in the light of her sister’s far more serious situation.
It had been all she could do to function at work and all her energy and cheerfulness went into supporting Steph, the girls and her parents.
Yet it had hurt; it had hurt like hell and she had loved Connor. She’d thought he loved her. Perhaps she was simply hopeless at judging any man’s feelings? Jay had seemed empathetic and he’d revealed a little more about himself … but she wasn’t under any illusions.
It was too soon to even think of any guy romantically – especially one who’d only just moved in next door and worked with her. Better not to even start anything, and that meant flirting too.
When she went into the outer office, she looked through the glass windows and saw Shayla walking around her own office, phone at her ear. Originally from north London, Shayla herself had worked as a hotel receptionist until her grandpa had left her a small inheritance that she’d invested in a tiny boutique bed and breakfast.
Her battle to do it up on a shoestring and make it pay had featured on a TV series. Her success and personality had led to more media work, enabling her to invest in more properties, including Firholme. Before Shayla took over, it had been a rather dated hotel. She’d bought it in early spring and spent several months – and a serious amount of money – restoring the main house and converting the outbuildings to a café and shop.
It had reopened in early September just after Lottie had joined, and Shayla intended to make it a must-visit destination and events venue that visitors and locals returned to in all seasons of the year.
Lottie would love to own – or at least be in charge – of a place like Firholme, and was hoping her role as events manager might be expanded if Firholme could thrive – but that was dependent on her doing a great job and bringing in more business.
Shayla waved at Lottie to enter the office. As Lottie closed the door as quietly as she could, Shayla wound down her call.
A few minutes later, they walked up to the house together. Lottie decided to dive straight in with her concerns about the decorations.
‘Shayla, I’ve just been to the Christmas centre with Jay. While we were choosing the trees for the house, I had a thought about the décor. What about keeping the minimal tones but adding a different accent colour in each room? It would look really striking and help show potential couples we can match any wedding theme.’ Lottie went in with the clincher. ‘Plus, it would save money. Some of those uber cool monotone decs are very pricey.’
‘Hmm. I think you’re right … I’d been wondering about the colours myself and agree we could do with something a bit more, er, cheerful.’
Buoyed by her boss’s response, Lottie outlined her ideas on a walk-through of the main ground-floor rooms. Shayla seemed enthused and happy to let her deal with the styling. Should she message Jay and tell him that the grey was out, and colour back in? It wasn’t part of his job. Was she simply looking for a reason to text him?
How did he really feel about having listened to her problems?
Next, they headed upstairs where Shayla wanted to get Lottie’s opinion on a possible makeover for some of the rooms in the spring. The view from the main bridal suite was stunning, with a magnificent window overlooking the lake and mountains. Lottie couldn’t help thinking what a romantic setting it would be to spend a first night as a married couple … and a pang of sharp regret took her by surprise. She could have been spending her wedding night here.
‘Lottie?’
She turned around to find Shayla standing by the huge sleigh bed.
‘You like the idea for the new rooms?’
‘Yes … yes.’ Lottie smiled. ‘I think they’ll look superb.’
‘Great. Shall we go back to the office for coffee?’
Shaking off her memories for the second time that morning, Lottie walked with Shayla down the stairs into the vestibule. Voices reached them and the front door opened.
A tall woman, about Lottie’s own age, walked through, followed by one of the admin assistants, Thorsten, a Norwegian student on a gap year.
‘Hello, Shayla, Lottie … This is Ms Sinclair.’
‘Hi there. Please call me Keegan,’ the woman said, her voice, with its Aussie twang, echoed around the hallway.
‘Ms Sinclair and her partner are looking at wedding venues and dropped by on the off chance. I explained that you’d have preferred to have met them yourself …’ Thorsten said, his eyes flicking nervously from Lottie to Shayla.
‘I made him bring us straight up!’ Keegan declared. ‘I couldn’t wait! I’m with my fiancé actually but I’ve no idea where he’s disappeared to.’
‘I think he was looking at the view,’ said Thorsten.
‘He’s always going AWOL.’ Laughing, Keegan flicked her jet-black hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a camel maxi coat with a faux fur collar, and would have given Kim Kardashian a run for her money in the glamour stakes, Lottie thought. ‘I’d better round him up.’
Neither Lottie nor Shayla had yet had a chance to get a word in before the door opened and a man walked in.
In an instant, Lottie found herself physically unable to speak.
It couldn’t be him … and yet here he was, in a smart reefer coat and scarf, his hair styled in a trendy cut and every bit as good-looking as she remembered. No, scrub that. He was far better-looking than she remembered.
At the sound of his footsteps, Keegan swung round. ‘Oh, there you are, baby!’ She seized his arm and beamed. ‘This is my fiancé, Connor. We’re absolutely desperate to get married at Firholme and the sooner the better!’
Chapter Five
Lottie stared at Connor, and he gawped back. She must have held her breath because when she finally came to her senses, it rushed out in a whoosh.
Shock and anger bubbled up. How could Connor, of all people, have turned up at Firholme with his fiancée? How could he do that to her?
All of this, however, seemed to have been missed by everyone else in the room, as Keegan sang the praises of the house.
‘Wow. This place is even more amazing than you said it was, Connor. Your website really doesn’t do it justice, you know!’ She directed this at Shayla.
Lottie had had a big input into the redesign of the new site, but that was the least of her worries.
‘It’s incredible.’ Keegan planted a smacker on Connor’s cheek that reverberated around the room. ‘No wonder your mum always wanted you to get married here.’
Avoiding Lottie’s eye, Connor found his tongue. ‘Hold on. They might not have a vacancy, Keegan,’ he said. ‘Not at short notice. You know we’re in a hurry.’
‘Oh, don’t be so defeatist! If you don’t ask, you don’t get.’
‘Yes but … Firholme must be booked up years in advance,’ he said.
Shayla exchanged a puzzled glance with Lottie before jumping in. ‘If you want to hold your wedding here at Firholme, you’ve found the right person.’ She practically thrust Lottie to the fore with one look. ‘Lottie Hargreaves is our events and wedding coordinator. I’m sure she can help you sort out a date.’ Shayla beamed at Lottie, obviously willing her to speak to their new potential customers.
‘Well. Um. I think we do have some weekends in early March,’ Lottie said.
‘March!’ Keegan exclaimed. ‘Oh no. That’s way too late. We want to get married as soon as possible. Next week wouldn’t be too early!’
‘Next week!’ Despite her best efforts, Lottie’s squeak of horror escaped.
‘Keegan’s joking,’ Connor said, with the weakest of smiles. ‘We were thinking more like next month. If possible, but I know it’s a tall order.’
‘It has to be before Christmas,’ Keegan said firmly. ‘That’s what you said, baby.’ She turned to Lottie. ‘It’s a surprise for Connor’s mum. She’s been very poorly and we want to give her the best Christmas present ever,’ she said to Lottie and Shayla.
‘Your mum?’ Lottie was unable to keep the shock from her voice. ‘How poorly? Is she OK now?’
‘She had a stroke a few months ago but she’s recovering,’ Connor said, seeming more crestfallen by the second. ‘We thought that a surprise wedding at Firholme would cheer her up. We’ll totally understand if it’s not possible.’ His expression gave Lottie no doubt that he wanted her to bail him out.
However, that wasn’t in Lottie’s power and Shayla dived in, shooting Lottie a very puzzled glance. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure we can fit it in,’ she said.
‘Great,’ said Keegan, shooting Lottie a forensic glare. ‘Do you two know each other?’ she said to Lottie.
‘I was wondering the same myself,’ Shayla said, smiling.
‘Yes. We used to live in the same village,’ Lottie said, still reeling from the fact that Fiona had had a stroke. ‘Didn’t we, Connor?’
‘Yes … um … we did.’ Connor was obviously trying to pick up on the clues she was attempting to send him. She was sure he hadn’t told Keegan about their relationship so he certainly hadn’t mentioned they’d been engaged, or that he’d called it off three days after his proposal.
‘I didn’t realise Lottie worked here,’ he said.
‘I only started here in early September.’ Lottie was finding coherent speech almost impossible to come by.
‘Oh. I’d no idea,’ Connor repeated, adding limply, ‘what a coincidence.’
Keegan clearly wasn’t ready let them off the hook. ‘Wow. You guys grew up in the same village?’
‘Keswick is more of a town,’ Connor stated, as if that made all the difference. ‘And my parents moved to Cockermouth when I was a teenager.’
Keegan’s perfectly arched eyebrows shot up. ‘Yet you still recognised each other instantly?’ She reminded Lottie of a smiling assassin.
‘We had some … er … contact afterwards,’ Lottie replied. ‘Connor’s firm used to hold functions at the hotel I was working at.’
‘But it was ages ago,’ Connor added quickly.
His deft reaction jolted Lottie, but she hid her shock that he was so very keen to deny their relationship. She didn’t want anyone to know how close they’d been either and wasn’t going to volunteer the information. It would be far less messy and far less painful and besides, Connor surely wouldn’t dream of getting married at Firholme now he’d found out who’d be organising the wedding. Certainly not by Christmas and hopefully not ever.
However, Keegan had other ideas. ‘Babe, it’s so lovely that you know Lottie and that she’s going to be our wedding planner.’ She flashed a smile at Lottie. ‘It’s fate! We’re obviously meant to get married here. It’s an amazing venue and we can really push the boat out.’
Shayla was grinning widely at the prospect of a lucrative wedding. ‘I think you absolutely are meant to have your wedding here,’ she declared. ‘Don’t you agree, Lottie?’ she added firmly.
Lottie snapped out of her shock. ‘Oh, yes. Absolutely,’ she said, not wanting to face the ramifications of having to organise Connor’s wedding.
Shayla ploughed on. ‘And in fact, I have some wonderful news. We do have a Saturday available for the weekend before Christmas. How does Saturday nineteenth sound?’
Keegan squealed in delight. ‘What? You are kidding me!’
‘No,’ said Shayla. ‘So, you really are meant to be married at Firholme.’
Keegan smacked a kiss on Connor’s mouth. ‘That settles it then, doesn’t it, Connor? It’s fate!’
‘It seems like it …’ Connor said mechanically.
‘Let’s not waste a moment more then,’ Shayla said. ‘Would you like Lottie to give you both a tour of Firholme House so we can set the ball rolling immediately? Funnily enough, we were just discussing the Christmas tree and decorations for the ballroom where we hold our wedding ceremonies and receptions. Of course, we can tailor those to your wedding colour scheme.’
‘We hadn’t got around to choosing colours yet,’ Connor muttered. ‘We hadn’t even got a confirmed date or venue until a few minutes ago.’
Keegan laughed at him. ‘But we do now, babe, and I’ve already been thinking about the theme a lot. We’d love to have a tour and the sooner we nail down all the details, the better.’
‘I’ll leave Lottie to show you round, then, as she’s our expert, aren’t you?’ Lottie felt a little nudge on the elbow. ‘I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do as you and Connor are old friends.’
Shayla must be wondering why Lottie herself wasn’t gushing about Firholme like Shayla was, but she was still paralysed by the shock of Connor walking in and wanting to get married.
‘Lottie?’ Shayla’s tone was laden with a hint that she should show more enthusiasm.
‘Of course, I’d be delighted to show you round,’ she said, as brightly as she could. ‘It’s a shame the decorations aren’t up, but as Shayla mentioned, that means we can discuss your own scheme and have it ready for your special day.’
She was fighting to keep the slightest trace of irony from her voice, terrified that Keegan would think she was being sarcastic – or worse, that Connor would. He was handling the situation by saying as little as possible, but Keegan was the opposite, raving about the architecture, the furnishings, the possibilities for photo opportunities.
It was agony for Lottie to have to extol Firholme’s virtues when she longed to claim it was a terrible place to get married; that it was draughty, had mice and the catering wasn’t up to scratch – and most of all that the events manager was incompetent and was wishing her bridal couple would vanish with a puff of smoke.
Instead she had to run through her sales patter of how marvellous it was, with its grand ballroom being perfect for the ceremony; the drawing room ideal for the pre-drinks; and suite of first-floor bedrooms wonderful for the bridal couple and their guests.
She threw open the double doors to the ballroom so that Keegan could walk in ahead.
‘Oh. My. God. What an incredible space!’ Keegan wandered into the centre of the room and turned in a circle, taking in the parquet floor, the walls and up to the wood-panelled ceiling with its ornate carvings and chandelier. ‘That ceiling. The panelling. Is this all original?’
‘Yes, we restored it back to its original state from 1906 when it was built …’
‘It’s awesome.’ Keegan turned. ‘Isn’t it, Connor?’
‘It’s undeniably impressive,’ he muttered, wandering towards the window, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets.
‘No wonder your mother loves this place so much.’ Keegan returned her attention to the room, arching her neck to stare at the chandelier. ‘It’s every bit as gorgeous as you said.’
‘I’d forgotten how grand it was.’ Connor followed Keegan’s gaze. ‘Mum liked to bring us for afternoon tea when it was a hotel and we were younger. She hasn’t been able to visit since she was ill and it was being refurbished, but I know she wants to.’
Keegan looked around in wonder. ‘She’s going to freak out when she walks in here to find we’re actually getting married.’
‘You can say that again …’ Momentarily, Connor caught Lottie’s eye behind Keegan’s back and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’
Lottie glanced away, unable to respond. Sorry for what? Turning up out of the blue? Not knowing she worked there? Proposing to her, then saying he wasn’t sure that his love was strong enough to make a lifelong commitment? Finding someone he did love enough within a matter of months?
No matter how professional she tried to remain, the regrets and ‘what-ifs’ whirled around her head. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she was better off without him and it wasn’t meant to be, it still hurt.
However, she had no time to gather her thoughts properly because Keegan had swooped on a small dais in the bay window. The sun had come out and the view over the gardens to the lake and snow-topped fells was to die for. How could Keegan not fall headlong in love with the place?
‘Is this it?’ Keegan was almost breathless with wonder. ‘Where we actually make our vows?’
‘Yes. This is where the registrar will conduct the ceremony,’ Lottie said. ‘We hold the wedding service in here and in the winter months we serve drinks in the drawing room while this space is rearranged for the reception.’ She glanced out of the window at the sun glinting off the lake. ‘In summer, we do drinks on the terrace; obviously, that’s not possible in December … But you can still have a wide choice of menus, or any kind of reception format – sit-down or buffet. As casual or formal as you wish.’ She reeled off the patter, still feeling as if someone else was saying the words.
‘Oh, I want a formal sit-down. I want silver service, little place names, a top table, speeches – the whole traditional English shebang.’ Keegan called to Connor who was at the window, with his back to them. ‘That’s what your mum’s always dreamed of, isn’t it, Connor? I know my folks will go nuts for it too.’
Connor’s face seemed to have turned pale under his tan. ‘Is there time to get them over here?’ he asked. ‘You know how busy the flights from Oz are at this time of year. Would it be better to delay things a while?’
‘They’ll get here,’ Keegan declared. ‘If I have to fly them all out first class.’
Lottie stopped her jaw from unhinging again. She was used to wealthy clients at Firholme, but Keegan was taking it to another level – she hadn’t even asked how much it would all cost.
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Connor said hurriedly. ‘I was only thinking through the logistics. Christmas itself is less than eight weeks away. What about all the legal stuff? The licence?’
Joining him, Keegan stroked his arm. ‘We’ve gone through all that, baby. Now we have a venue and date we can book the registrar. I’m sure they’re not busy this time of year, are they, Lottie?’
‘Probably not,’ Lottie said. ‘But I can help you with all of that.’
‘There you are, Connor,’ Keegan said triumphantly. ‘Lottie will take care of everything for us. Aren’t we lucky? Now, I need to touch up my lipstick if you’ll show me the way to the washroom?’
Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Keegan swept off to the cloakroom, leaving Lottie and Connor alone.
The silence was painful before Connor spoke. ‘Keegan’s joking about the first-class flights.’
What? Those were his first words after unexpectedly reappearing in her life after over a year?
‘It’s up to you,’ Lottie said tightly. ‘I totally understand that Keegan would want her family to be at her wedding.’
‘Yes, but there’s no way we’d fly them here first class,’ Connor insisted. ‘Business class maybe.’
‘Connor, you really don’t have to apologise or explain anything,’ Lottie said, wishing she hadn’t been left alone with him. ‘I’ll do anything I can to make sure you have a happy day and that your mum has a wonderful Christmas surprise. I’m so sorry she’s been ill. I wish I’d known.’ Lottie just stopped herself from putting her hand on his arm in comfort. With her own mother living so far away, Lottie’s relationship with Fiona had probably been closer than it might normally have been. ‘I wish I’d known. I would have gone to see her or sent some flowers and a card. Poor Fiona.’
‘She understood why you didn’t …’ Connor glanced away guiltily. ‘Why I hadn’t told you. In the circumstances, she knew it would have been really awkward for you.’
Really awkward for Connor, she thought, but stayed tight-lipped. Her natural sympathy for him and his parents trumped any bitter feelings towards him. However, she’d resolved to take control of the situation they’d both found themselves in.
‘How close we once were is irrelevant now,’ she said, although she felt that her relationship with Connor was all too relevant, given the hurt and anger she still felt.
‘True … and I apologise. I never should have turned up without making an appointment, but Keegan was all for haring up here the moment I happened to say that Mum loved Firholme. She said we could look round, have a coffee and then when she mentioned about possibly getting married to that guy on reception, he said he would find someone to show us round – the wedding events manager, he said; he didn’t use your name or I would have twigged.’
‘You still wouldn’t have been able to stop Keegan from getting married here, though, would you?’
‘No … I suppose not. When she gets her teeth into an idea, it’s very hard to stop her.’
It was on the tip of Lottie’s tongue to say ‘I can imagine’ but she stopped herself. Henceforth, she had to be scrupulously professional with her ‘bridal couple’ and that meant being enthusiastic and welcoming. She was finding it almost impossible with Connor, however.
‘Jeez, Lottie. I’m so sorry for landing here like this unannounced. It’s unforgivable. I’d never want to hurt you; you must understand that?’
But you did hurt me, Connor, she thought. You’re still doing it now. Words dried in her throat. She’d finally got her life back on track, but now he’d ripped the dressing from a still-healing wound. The pain was sharper than she’d ever imagined it could be – because she hadn’t imagined it, she’d half hoped she’d never have to see him again because it was easier for her. She didn’t think she could bleed again at a look or touch from Connor; now she knew she could.
‘I can tell Keegan we can’t hold the wedding here if you really want me to,’ he said, but with a look as if he’d rather have his fingernails pulled out.
‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘No, you absolutely mustn’t change your plans because of us.’ How could she confess to Shayla that she’d been the cause of cancelling her first wedding at Firholme? The business really needed the revenue, and Keegan was clearly hoping to make it a lavish affair.
‘OK, I won’t then … and I am sorry.’ He touched her arm, leaving his fingers there long enough for her to feel a familiar tingle of pleasure at his touch, which she had missed so much in the early days. How could it still have the power to affect her?