9

Hayden went down for breakfast, to find the table had been laid for one. He glared across at the butler. “Where is my wife’s place?”

“Mrs. Shade requested breakfast in her room an hour or so ago, sir,” Torrance explained. “I’ve already collected her dishes.”

Hayden sighed. “Then please pull the curtains. If it’s only me, I’ll eat in the dark as normal.” No longer hungry, he picked at the scrambled egg on toast. His heart ached. Without Caitlyn’s cheerful countenance, his life was empty and dark. He needed her, but after last night, she’d probably never want anything to do with him again.

He pushed away the partly eaten meal and rose. He grabbed his cane and stomped into the hall. Around him the servants busied themselves stringing fairy lights and holly along the bannisters and over pictures. An undecorated tree stood at the foot of the stairs. Hayden muttered under his breath. He’d had this conversation with them.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

The footman froze. “Mrs. Shade found them in the attic and asked that we put them up.”

He scowled. “Did she? Well, just stop what you’re doing. It’s almost eight-thirty. The coach will be here at nine to collect you all.”

Torrance came out of the dining room, a tray of uneaten food in his hands. “Nine, sir? We weren’t expecting it until eleven-thirty.”

Hayden wished he had his hood to hide behind. “Surprise. Make sure everyone is ready, will you? See you in January.” He took three steps then paused. “Is Mrs. Shade still in her room?”

“She’s in the attic, sir, searching for Christmas decorations. She’s hoping to find the rest of the nativity scene that goes under the tree.”

Hayden jerked his head. That woman should change her name to Christmas. “Of course she is.” He headed to his study, not wanting to deal with his wife’s addiction to the season. His heart told him she was right. Jesus was the reason for the season, but his head was chock full of memories he didn’t want.

He eased into his chair, and pulled open the laptop. Focusing his mind on the task in hand, he dealt with the morning correspondence. Next he rang his new accountant to double-check that everything was settled with the tax office. He didn’t want a huge debt hanging over his head longer than need be. He clasped the phone, fingers whitening on the handset. His other hand tugged on the coiled cable connecting the receiver to the base. “Did you get that other information I asked for? The file on your predecessor—Frank Hosier?”

“Yes, sir,” came the disembodied reply. “It’s in your email, with a hard copy being couriered to you today.”

“Thank you. I will email you a follow up with instructions.” Hayden dropped the receiver onto the base. He opened his email, checking for the one mentioned. Next he perused Caitlyn’s father’s finances. The man was in a worse state than he’d thought possible. Once he had worked out how much all the debts came to, which shocked even him, he emailed his new accountant back, instructing that the correct sum of money be paid to each of the creditors—enough to wipe out every single debt. It was the least he could do. The last thing Caitlyn needed was her father being turned out onto the streets by the bailiffs.

A coach drew up outside and chattering servants clambered aboard with boxes and cases. Finally, the front door shut, and the coach pulled away.

Silence descended on the house like a pall.

Only it wasn’t quiet. From somewhere above him, echoing through the heating ducts and vents, he could hear singing. Singing!

Caitlyn…

He needed to see her, touch her. He rose and grabbed the cane. Heading into the hallway, he paused. Presumably she was still in the attic; hunting through goodness only knew what.

Conflicting emotions warred. He settled into a rage that grew as he strode up the stairs. She needed to learn to leave things alone. But along with the anger grew a knowledge that he loved her. He would do anything for her. She belonged to him and he’d protect her to the end if need be. Even if she never loved him back.

The singing grew louder.

“Once upon a Christmas, many years ago, a baby born in Bethlehem, changed everything we know…”

Hayden flung open the door. The attic was in darkness. The singing stopped as the door hit the frame hard. “Caitlyn, are you in here?”

“Yes, I am.” The thin voice came from somewhere in the dark.

He couldn’t see her, or even make out where her voice was coming from. “Why are you hiding?”

“Not hiding. The house was dull. I was trying to find a way to decorate it without having to go out and buy new stuff. You did say last night we could put Christmas things up. I found a tree and a few bits already.”

“I noticed. Will you please come into the light so I can see who I’m talking to?”

Caitlyn’s laugh was short and sharp. “Disconcerting, isn’t it? Talking to someone you can’t see. Not knowing how they’re feeling because you can’t see their face? Someone who hides and won’t tell you the truth?”

“I had my reasons.” His heart sank. She couldn’t face him after last night. Now she’d seen who he really was, the monster behind the mask, she detested him. “Can we talk about this properly?”

“I’m busy, so unless you want to talk while I search, then it’ll have to wait. Although, I’m sure you probably have some work you ought to be getting on with.” A hard edge crept into her voice. “You won’t want to help me with what I’m doing. Because it’s Christmas and should be ignored.”

His shoulder hit a box. Something clattered to the ground by his feet. He reached down and picked it up. An angel glinted in his hand. It had his name written across the base. His mother had posted it to his school for him, the year he arrived home to find them all gone.

Tears pricked his eyes as he slid it into his pocket.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your face?” she asked. “How bad it really was? I asked often enough.”

“I was afraid you’d back out of our agreement.”

“And have my father thrown into prison?” Caitlyn scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Hayden took a step closer to her voice. “Your father never would have been thrown into prison unless I pressed charges, you know that. I paid the debt to the tax office, the day I discovered the bill hadn’t been paid.”

“So you decided to threaten an old man, purely because you wanted me.” She screamed in frustration and threw something across the darkness.

A car pulled up outside. Hayden wished there was a window in the attic. There were no servants to answer the door and it would take him too long to get down the stairs. “Someone is here. It would be quicker if you ran to the door to see who it is.”

“That will be Meredith. She’s early, but never mind.” Footsteps stomped across the attic. “And don’t you dare try to interrupt us.”

“Caitlyn. I’m sorry…” He paused, his heart breaking. He had blown any chance he had with her. His eyes burned and he blinked hard. “Perhaps you’d rather leave, never look at me again. You can have the marriage annulled. I won’t contest it.”

“Don’t put ideas in my head, husband. A marriage is for life, not just for Christmas. Only, you don’t do Christmas, and apparently don’t do a proper marriage, either. I happen to believe in both.” She brushed past him, her perfume lingering as the attic door slammed.

Hayden reached out and flicked on the light. A box of decorations he hadn’t realized was there sat open. The servants must have bought them that first year they’d tried to decorate.

He shoved everything inside and picked up the box, balancing it in one arm. Then he turned and headed back down the staircase. He placed the box at the bottom of the Christmas tree.

Hayden pulled the angel from his pocket and held the string, watching it move and glisten in the sunlight. He blinked hard, and reaching out, hung the ornament on the tree. He should order a matching one for Caitlyn if he could.

As his fingers touched the tree, a memory hit him with the force of the Flying Scotsman. A huge tree filled part of the barn, the ladder his father had used to hang the star on the top still standing next to it. Rafe teased him about his fear of heights and clambered to the top of the ladder, taunting him. Determined to prove he wasn’t a coward, Hayden climbed after him.

Rafe’s face creased in pain and he wobbled, losing his balance. The ladder shifted suddenly, hitting the beam that always stuck out at an odd angle. People screamed as they fell to the ground. A crushing weight lay on top of Hayden’s head and leg. Blood spilled from his brother. As they lay beneath the wreckage, Rafe’s blood mixed with his own. Just beyond his reach lay the Christmas tree.

Shaking his head, Hayden limped toward his study, fingers white where they gripped the cane. Caitlyn may never love him, but he loved her and if she insisted on a real Christmas, then he’d at least try to ensure she had one.

From the library he could hear Caitlyn speaking. A low, male voice replied. Perhaps that was her friend’s husband.

Hayden strode into his study and shut the door. He dropped into his chair, and lifted the laptop’s lid. His fingers moved quickly over the keys. He smiled when he found the angels were still available and ordered one with Caitlyn’s name across the base. He paid extra for express delivery. That should ensure it arrived in time for Christmas.

A loud thud resounded from in the hallway, followed by a clang. Hayden rose to his feet. “Caitlyn, are you all right?” No answer came. Concerned she may have hurt herself and be unable to answer, Hayden made his way across the room. “Caitlyn?”

The door flung open and David, the dressmaker, stood there. “Caitlyn isn’t here anymore,” he sneered.

“Where is she? What have you done with her?”

“What makes you think I did anything? You did it all by yourself. You’re the monster, Hayden.” David reached behind his back, and produced a sword.

Hayden recognized it as the one which hung above the fireplace in the library. He stood firm, fear clenching his stomach. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone. You see, the problem is you. Remove you and she’ll be fine.” David swung the sword in a wide arc.

Hayden blocked the parry with his cane. He staggered backwards as he absorbed the blow.

“I’m not letting you take her. She’s mine. She was mine long before you wanted her.”

Hayden blocked another blow; this one sent jarring pain up his arm as the blade nicked his fingers. Warm blood dripped from his hand. “You’re too late. We’re already married.”

Another blow sent him to his knees as he lost his balance.

David’s eyes shone with maniacal fire as he raised the sword, bringing it down with a sweeping blow. “You will never have her.”

Hayden glanced down, surprised to see the sword blade protruding from his shoulder. It didn’t even hurt. He reached up and pulled the blade out. It clattered to the floor.

David kicked the cane out of his reach. “I will not let her ruin her life like you ruined mine…brother.”

Darkness tinged the edge of Hayden’s vision. David’s last word made no sense to his pain filled mind. “What?” he whispered, trying to make sense of everything. “My brother is dead…”

“I never did count as far as you were concerned, did I?” David’s bitter tone resonated as he picked up the sword, swinging it down one last time.

The blade struck home and agony rocketed. Hayden closed his eyes, succumbing to the overwhelming darkness. Perhaps if he kept still for a moment, the pain would ease and he could get up.

Somewhere outside a car pulled away, tires spinning on the gravel.

“Caitlyn…” Hayden forced his eyes open and pulled the sword from his side. He dragged himself across the floor, slowly, painfully, his left arm refusing to work. He turned over, clasping his arm, as the darkness reclaimed him.