Название: Christmas With The Duke
Автор: Katrina Cudmore
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474078245
isbn:
She had even embarrassingly admitted that she wanted to create a family of her own, with at least five children. Tom had teased her over that...but she had fallen even deeper in love with him when he’d said that she’d be the best mother ever. She had opened her heart to him. She had been stupid. Because doing so had only made his rejection—which she should have known was coming—a thousand times worse.
It was a mistake she’d never make again.
She looked at him now, sadness and regret bubbling in her throat. ‘We should have just remained friends.’
His eyes held hers for what felt like for ever.
Eventually he nodded and said gently, ‘Perhaps you’re right.’
Overwhelmed by how emotional she felt, she stepped around him and collected his cup and saucer, placed them on the tea tray with her own, buying some thinking time in the process.
She liked her new life in Loughmore. Yes, she was occasionally caught unawares by a memory of Tom that rooted her to the spot. But she had long ago accepted that she needed to forge a life for herself. And through years of study and work in various conservation centres and heritage gardens, both in Ireland and Scotland, she had built a life she was proud of.
The conservation and heritage programmes she had started here in Loughmore needed to be continued. Loughmore itself needed to be saved from developers. And if that meant she needed to spend time with Tom, persuading him not to sell, then no matter how uncomfortable and awkward it would be she would do it—to save Loughmore.
She adjusted the tray in her hands and said, ‘Don’t tell the staff yet—let them enjoy Christmas.’
‘I have to return to London on the first of January. I want to be here and available to talk through any concerns they may have.’
‘Then plan on coming back in the New Year. You’re only in London—it’s not far to travel.’
He gave an unenthusiastic shrug and said, ‘Perhaps.’
Her heart sank. He clearly wanted to spend as little time as possible in Loughmore. But, forcing herself to smile, she said, ‘You never know—you might change your mind about selling over Christmas.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I have a buyer lined up. That’s not going to happen.’
Ciara nodded. She needed to get Operation Save Loughmore underway immediately.
‘The staff have organised a charity event in memory of your dad tomorrow night. Two hundred and fifty guests will be attending the turning on of the Christmas lights, with a choral concert and dancing later. I assume you’ll attend?’
‘I had forgotten it was taking place,’ he answered, uninterested.
‘But you’ll come?’
‘My father wasn’t the easiest of men—it’s a generous gesture by the staff.’
It was true. His father had terrified most of the staff in Loughmore. But at least he would never have dreamed of selling it.
Adjusting the tray in her hands, Ciara moved to the door, which Tom opened to allow her to exit. Just as she was about to step out into the hallway she stopped and said, ‘He was tough, but he commanded respect. He was loyal to Loughmore.’
Tom’s mouth tightened. ‘And I’m not?’
Ciara shrugged and said, ‘I’m sure you have your reasons,’ before walking away.
The following evening Tom half listened to the back-and-forth one-upmanship of the two opposing politicians who had collared him once the guests had moved from the tree-lighting ceremony and choral concert in the Great Hall into the ballroom for dancing. Several times he had tried to break away, but both men seemed determined to impress on him why he should consider becoming a supporter of their political party.
Not for the first time that night his gaze wandered once again over the invited guests in search of Ciara.
He took a slug of his Irish whiskey when he saw her still out on the dance floor with a guy he’d privately nicknamed Mr Brite, given his dazzling white smile. Wearing a knee-length red lace dress and towering heels, with her tumbling red locks worn loose and her sinful brown eyes full of laughter, she and Mr Brite twirled around the dancefloor.
Ciara looked like a fantasy Christmas present for every hot-blooded man. And she was a woman on a mission. It had taken him only a few hours today to cotton on to her plan.
After a lavish breakfast from Libby, Stephen had politely insisted he give Tom a tour of the castle, pointing out the renovations that had taken place in recent years and reminding him of the historical importance of the castle not only to County Wicklow but to the whole of Ireland.
Stephen had conveniently ended the tour in the courtyard, where Liam Geary, Loughmore’s estate manager, had just happened to be standing by his estate vehicle chatting with Ciara. Before he’d known it Tom had been in the passenger seat, and Liam had taken him for a tour of the land, recounting his plans for extending the dairy herd and the possibility of introducing buffalo on to the estate.
On their way back to the castle they’d ‘happened’ to bump into Ciara again, this time chatting with her boss Sean at the start of the garden’s Palm Walk.
‘Wait until you see the orchard, sir,’ Sean had said with great excitement. ‘We’ve expanded it greatly and we supply farmers’ markets nationwide. This year, thanks to Ciara’s knowledge, we’ve planted new apple and plum saplings—they’re old varieties that would have once grown here in Loughmore.’
Sean had then taken him on an extensive tour of the walled garden, the lakeside gardens and the orchards, breathlessly talking about his plans to extend the market garden.
His tour had ended at the glasshouses, where Ciara herself had taken him on a tour of the heritage plants she was cultivating.
He knew he had been cool with her throughout the tour—her jibe about his loyalty to Loughmore the previous evening had still been fresh in his mind. For a brief moment, when she’d said it, he’d wanted to tell her the truth. About how his father had left the estate in debt through poor financial investments. How selling Loughmore would significantly rebalance the books.
Tom had only learnt of the debts after his father’s death. At first he had been angry—especially when he’d realised that his father had left it to him to inform his mother of the situation. Later he had felt nothing other than regret. A father and son should have had a better relationship. One with trust and mutual respect.
In the aftermath of his father’s death Tom’s resolve to value and cherish his own children, if he was ever to have them, had become all the more resolute.
Now, beside him, the politicians had moved on to a heated debate about land tax, and both became indignant when Tom interrupted to point out that their policies sounded remarkably similar and equally non-progressive.
Out on the dance floor Ciara turned to study him, before leaning towards СКАЧАТЬ