Christmas at the Little Clock House on the Green: An enchanting and warm-hearted romance full of Christmas cheer

Chapter 10

Grand Designs

Jake

Jake watched wariness and hurt flood Emma’s eyes before she quickly turned and began efficiently setting out tea on a tray.

Damn.

Briefly, he wondered if there were as many words for ‘idiot’ in Eskimo as there were for ‘snow’ because even though she might be some Hollywood actress who was going to take off the minute it got cold proper, that didn’t mean he had to behave like he was counting down the minutes until she did.

He watched as with practised ease, she shoulder-pressed the heavy round tray with one hand and strode confidently over to one of the largest tables.

If he were the fanciful sort he might think she looked like some Nordic warrior, striding across the room with purpose, her pale gold hair flowing down her back.

Thank God he wasn’t.

And right there he was hit with the realisation of exactly why he’d been behaving like an arse.

Being called Eeyore aside, it was actually because she’d accused him of not having a romantic bone in his body.

Why the hell he should care if she was right, he didn’t know.

Life was altogether a lot more bearable if he didn’t go around acting and feeling like some bloody poet in love.

Been there. Done that. Not to mention been given the billowy shirt by his comedian brothers as a joke.

In his family, when they’d all been vying for roles growing-up, the minute he’d expressed more than a passing interest in the gardens on the estate he’d been labelled ‘The Romantic’ of the family. Ironic, really, considering he’d been the only Knightley not to labour under the idyll that the family money would never run out.

As soon as he’d started adding girls into the mix, his brothers and sisters had absolutely no problem referring to him as the Heathcliff-bloody-Rochester of the Knightley clan.

Actually, that wasn’t technically true. Lately he’d been known as the Uhtred of Bebbanburg-Knightleys’, but that was completely his own fault for not getting his hair cut.

Which reminded him…

‘Hey, Juliet,’ he walked over to the table they were obviously going to hold their meeting at, put down everything he’d brought to pitch his design, and shrugged out of his jacket. ‘I don’t suppose you could cut my hair before you open the salon to the rest of the hordes, could you?’

‘Are you sure?’ Juliet tipped her head to the side as she regarded his ‘do’. ‘The man-bun is definitely working for you. If you’re desperate I could see if Mum’s available?’

Aware that Emma was listening as she fussed a cloth over the pristine bar, he said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.’ Juliet’s mother, Cheryl Brown, grew exceptional dahlias and roses and she’d been a hairdresser for as long as Jake had known her. And it was precisely for that reason that he thought he had it in him to wait until Juliet was ready.

‘Right then,’ Daniel said, pulling out a chair at the table, sitting down and reaching for his coffee. ‘Jake, are you all set to pitch to us?’

‘What? Oh, yep. Born ready,’ Jake replied, efficiently setting his laptop up, so they could all see what he was going to be describing.

‘Emma,’ Kate called over to the bar, ‘come and grab a seat and a cuppa, you should be in on this meeting too.’

She should?

Jake busied himself opening his notebook to stare at the loose pitch he’d prepared while she settled herself at the table and poured herself a cup of tea. It was weird, he thought. He wasn’t usually nervous before presenting a new garden design, but what with Hollywood watching…

‘So,’ he began, with a subtle clearing of his throat. ‘There are a couple of options for revamping the courtyard, but I want to start with what I feel follows the brief you provided and then pushes the boundaries a little.’ Jake indicated his laptop screen. ‘If you like what I’ve come up with, I have a quote already drawn up. But this should be a collaborative process, so if we need to adjust for budget, or if there’s something we need to add, we can do that as well.

‘Kate, you mentioned wanting to match what you’ve done inside, but I’ve actually taken inspiration from outside. At the moment when you look out of any window onto the courtyard all you see is patio before your gaze is drawn straight to the moon-gate in the far wall.’

The moon-gate had actually been his starting point, because even though he loved that your eye was drawn straight to it and the romance of it had you wanting to know what was on the other side, with The Clock House opening up as a business, he didn’t think Kate would want people from outside the village, who didn’t know the history to what was on the other side of the moon-gate, to go get curious and start disturbing the beehives that were kept in the wild meadow beyond.

‘I’ve zoned the courtyard to provide each window with a unique vista, creating mini gardens to reflect what you do here. Providing relaxing and enchanting views will add to customer experience. It’ll mean building walls to divide the space but we can match the original brickwork. In each wall I’ve created a round aperture to mimic the moon-gate. It would work really well if we could use the same wrought-iron design work. The round gates also subtly mimic the face of a clock. Planting will be soft to counter the architecture but won’t require a lot of maintenance. I know you’ll be using honey in a lot of your treatments and that got me thinking about planting herbs for you to use in the tearoom and bar as well. I can go into specific planting detail once the design is approved, but take a look at the preliminary sketches,’ he said, moving the laptop to rollout some sketches he’d drawn of the courtyard from different angles. ‘And tell me what you all think?’

Kate, Daniel and Juliet all started talking at once and Jake breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the excited tones of their voices. Right up until he noticed Hollywood frowning down into her mug.

What the hell?

He’d honestly only ever had positive reactions to his designs before.

Probably because he spent time getting inside a client’s head so he could produce something he knew they’d like.

‘Is there a problem, Hollywood?’ he asked.

She looked up. ‘Oh, it’s really not my place,’ she said, bringing her cup of tea to her mouth as if it would help stop her from voicing her opinion.

‘You were invited to sit at the table and participate,’ he said tearing his gaze from hers to stare down at his sketches. He couldn’t see anything wrong with them. He’d created gardens within a garden and different views according to where you were inside The Clock House, each taking into account where the sun rose and fell. He’d designed access paths, chosen an easy-to-maintain planting scheme, and most importantly, the three people he’d come to present to didn’t appear dissatisfied.

In. Any. Way.

Obviously picking up on the growing tension, Kate carefully placed her teacup back in her saucer and said calmly, ‘What did you want to say, Emma?’

‘Well, if you’re sure you’d like the feedback?’ she asked, only she wasn’t looking at Kate, she was staring up at Jake with challenge set on her face.

‘Yes, of course. I’d welcome it,’ he answered uber-politely.

‘You’re sure?’

Impatience sparked. ‘I just said so, didn’t I?’

‘All right, then.’ Her gaze fell on his design as if she was gathering herself and then her gaze bounced back up to his. ‘So what you’ve designed is stunning.’

It was so completely unexpected that Jake felt his chest puff out with pride.

‘It’s sophisticated,’ Emma continued, ‘It’s contemporary…’

When she paused, a pulse ticked in his jaw. ‘And yet?’

‘And yet, well, it’s not very practical, is it?’

‘Practical?’

‘Yes. I know that word is probably a designer’s bugbear. You’ve created a space everyone inside can enjoy, but I imagine, during the spring, summer and autumn months the courtyard will get more footfall. I also imagine that if the tearoom and bar is successful,’ she quickly glanced at Kate in askance, ‘you might want to give customers the option of eating and drinking out there?’

She was right, Jake realised.

Why hadn’t he thought of that?

Why hadn’t they?

Or had they? In a mild panic he started going through the original notes he’d made. He knew he’d been spinning a few too many plates over the last year.

Ever since…

He breathed in sharp.

Had he totally dropped the ball on this one?

‘Jake, I must apologise,’ Kate said, interrupting his search through his notes. ‘I completely missed telling you about this. I’m so sorry. I’ve had so much on.’

‘It’s not a problem at all, Kate. Honestly, I can relate.’

‘I know you can.’

What he needed to do now was think on his feet and come up with a workable solution that didn’t dampen the creativity of the project either.

‘This is only a suggestion,’ Emma inserted into the conversation, ‘but what if you were able to make the walls not solid, but more, sort of, moveable partitions somehow?’

Intrigued, there was only time to be mildly surprised by her insight while feeling sickened at his oversight. Out came his pencil and he started sketching out the gridwork that would be needed. It would be expensive. Really expensive. Would Kate go for it? She’d already sunk so much of her own money into the place.

While being given the guided tour, it had been impossible not to recognise what you could do when your budget was so large. Jake’s budget for Knightley Hall, on the other hand, was miniscule. His life a constant juggling act of form-filling and grant-obtaining to help with the up-keep.

He knew he was still at the setting up part of the whole process at the Hall and that once the gardens were open to the public, he’d be able to make money for the estate. He’d already thought about reserving an area for local schools to learn about gardening, about holding gardening weekend retreats and about selling produce from the kitchen garden further afield than the local village markets.

Basically he’d been thinking and dreaming, dreaming and thinking about how to make the place pay for itself for as long as he could remember but he couldn’t help wondering if life would be different had he been able to act on his plans sooner and show Alice a glimpse of what their life together would have been like.

Annoyed at where his thoughts were taking him he concentrated on adding a few more lines to his sketch, determined to capture what he thought Emma had been suggesting. Then, holding out his sketch for her perusal, his gaze bored into her while he awaited her reaction.

Chapter 11

Heart of Glass

Emma

Emma wanted to squirm.

It was seriously hot and seriously intense under Jake’s unrelenting gaze.

And, oh, didn’t he just know it was.

She shouldn’t have said anything.

Despite the fact she’d been fuming before she sat down because what was worse than being caught being nervous?

Yeah – being called out publicly for being nervous.

So what if she’d been acting more confident than she felt? Whatever got her through, she’d been thinking.

Right along with wondering whether she’d ever met a more arrogant jerk in her life.

But then he’d started presenting his ideas and, darn it, because she’d joked that he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body but as he’d talked about his vision, she’d heard the story he wanted to tell with the garden he was creating.

She’d been seriously impressed and it had made her want to show him how committed to doing a good job at The Clock House she was. How serious she took this opportunity. That she wasn’t some starving actress who’d just pitched up to have a laugh, do a little sight-seeing, and grab a pay-cheque at the end of each week. So she’d taken his idea and given it a good outing.

The shock on his face when she’d actually ventured her opinion though.

But instead of going apoplectic, he’d done a total one-eighty on her and listened.

Proper listened.

Which she’d found proper sexy!

No.

Wrong word choice, she told herself.

She was not in Whispers Wood for proper sexy!

She was in Whispers Wood for an adventure.

No … not that kind of adventure, she cut herself off before her imagination could take itself out for a spin again.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d needed to feel as if she was heard.

Really heard.

That was all, she assured herself.

All those years of keeping the faith while getting one knock-back after another, she’d obviously started to feel invisible. That what she had to say and every way she tried saying it at auditions, was irrelevant.

Jake’s reaction had made her realise he wasn’t so arrogant, after all. Not if he could take feedback on something that was obviously the most important thing in his world and rise above criticism to take the good out of what she’d voiced.

Then he’d grabbed a pencil and rather than stab her in the eye with it, he’d started sketching. Long, sure lines, and oh my God, how cute was it that the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration? Making her squirm for an altogether different reason.

A couple more lines and then he was shoving the sketch in front of her and asking her, ‘You mean something like this?’

She took the sketch with hands that were trembling, very aware of Kate, Daniel and Juliet leaning forward to get a good look at what he’d drawn, too.

She looked down at the sketch, drew in a breath that felt funny and then gazed back up at him slightly star-struck because it was like he’d created exactly what she’d been imagining.

‘Um, yes,’ she said, looking back down at the sketch because looking up at him had her completely unable to concentrate. ‘Maybe make these site-lines wider for wheelchair access and so that you can bring tables and chairs into each segment.’

He nodded, walking around the table to stand behind her and stare at the sketch. ‘Need to figure out a way to make the walls the gardens and so that everyone could see each one. I don’t know – maybe turntables?’

Excitement sparked and she nodded. ‘Then you could turn them to get the best of the weather, and to change each view. Ooh, could you tie in each movement to the clock?’

‘Great idea,’ he mumbled, leaning over her so that she felt surrounded by him. ‘Yes,’ he breathed out softly and she felt the caress of his breath against her cheek.

Actual squirming ensued.

As if finally realising he was in her personal space his gaze flew to hers and as her tongue came out without her permission to slide over parched lips, she watched mesmerised as those dark brown eyes of his tracked the movement. One, two, three slow thuds of her heart and then Jake was jerking upright and taking a hasty step back.

Able to breathe again, Emma inhaled and stared back down at the sketch.

‘So what do you guys think?’ Jake asked everyone around the table.

As Kate, Daniel and Juliet all agreed it was a wonderful new design, Jake began packing up. ‘I might need to see if Oscar’s free to handle some of the building work on this. Are we still shooting for having it ready by spring? I could start end of January?’

‘Yes. That would be great. About the noise?’

Jake smiled at Kate. ‘And the dust and the access, yeah, I’m not going to lie, there’s going to be some, but I’ll try to minimize it. If we could build the structures off-site, would that help?’

‘That would be amazing.’

‘Well, it’s not like I don’t have the room at my place. So we’ll start with that as a plan. I’ll get back to you with a revised quote ASAP,’ Jake said, moving towards the exit doors.

‘There’s no rush. I trust you,’ Kate laughed, getting up from the table to follow him out.

‘Actually, the reason for the rush is … I hope you don’t mind but Sarah showed me the invites for your party.’

‘She did?’

‘Normally she’d never do something like that, it’s just that she realised that the date was the same as—’

Emma watched Kate’s eyes grow large as she brought a hand up to her mouth.

‘Oh, crap, it’s not?’ Kate asked.

‘It is,’ Jake replied, ‘but it doesn’t matter. Truly.’

‘Of course it does.’

What mattered, Emma wanted to know? And what was so important about the fourteenth of December, which was the date of The Clock House opening?

‘No. It really doesn’t,’ Jake stated emphatically. ‘Look at it this way, most people around here are already going to have that date blocked out anyway, so you’ll probably get more people to come.’

‘But not you?’ Juliet asked, her tone sad as if she immediately understood what Jake had been trying to say.

‘No. I’m sorry, not me,’ Jake confirmed. ‘I won’t be in Whispers Wood at all over Christmas—’

‘Oh.’

‘—and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t make a big thing about it,’ he asked, looking from Kate to Juliet.

‘No. Fair enough,’ Juliet said.

Emma watched as Kate touched Jake’s arm briefly and said, her voice quiet and gentle, ‘If anyone gets what it feels like to want to disappear for a while …’

Emma saw the flash of pain before Jake blinked it away and replied, ‘Thank you. I knew you’d get it.’

Get what? Why did he need to get away?

Darn it, she had absolutely no reason to feel disappointed that he wouldn’t be around for Christmas. It wasn’t like she’d be here on the actual day, anyway. Not if her Dad did what she was pretty sure he would do and invited her to spend the day with him and his wife and children.

Jake was just disappearing through the doors when she realised he’d left his jacket on the back of the chair.

Gathering it up, she called out, ‘Hey, Sir Knightley.’

She watched him pause at the doorway, stiffen slightly, and then turn around.

Wow, he really wanted to leave, didn’t he?

‘Your jacket,’ she said and performed a little curtsey. She’d meant to make him smile but felt silly when he strode back to her and took it without looking at her.

A tinkling sound could be heard as something fell onto the floor between them.

‘Oops, I think something’s fallen out of your pocket.’ Automatically she bent down to pick up the sparkly bead of glass. Holding it out in her palm she watched Jake frown down at it.

‘That’s definitely not mine. It must be from the—’ he broke off and glanced up at the chandelier.

There was an audible gasp as Kate and Juliet glanced from the chandelier to the droplet of glass and then to Jake and Emma.

‘It’s like a sign,’ Kate exclaimed and then shut her mouth quickly and after a strange look at Juliet carried on an entirely non-verbal conversation with her cousin.

With more head-turning than a tango on the Strictly final, Emma asked, ‘What’s a sign?’

‘Forget it. It couldn’t be less of a sign,’ Jake bit out, his expression murderous as he snatched the glass out of Emma’s hand and handed it to Kate. ‘It’s a bit of glass that fell off the chandelier because it was loose.’

‘Um, what he said,’ Kate mumbled, taking the glass droplet and holding it to her chest. ‘I’ll reattach it safely.’

‘Could have had someone’s eye out,’ Jake muttered, putting his plans on the floor so that he could shrug into his jacket. ‘I’ll be back later with the revised quote.’

In silence four pairs of eyes watched him bend down to pick up his plans, turn on his heel and walk towards the doors but before he disappeared completely from sight, Juliet dragged in a breath and called out, ‘Hey, Jake?’ He paused and didn’t turn around. ‘Stop by the salon after you drop the quote off. I’ll give you a couple of different choices to the man-bun.’

‘Appreciate it,’ he murmured and walked off.