Chapter Eight
“I’m so glad it’s turning out to be everything you’d hoped.” Kira pressed the phone closer so she could hear Tessa clearly. The connection to Malaysia was terrible.
“Better,” Tessa said, “amazing.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it. Will you be home by the solstice celebrations on the twenty-first?”
“We have to go to Edinburgh to do some of the marketing for the calendar Roan posed for.”
“During Christmas?”
“It’s good for the island and this is when the thing comes out, so we have to take advantage while we can.” Tessa paused for a moment, then said, “Maybe you and Shay can come stay in Edinburgh and we’ll celebrate the holidays together. Roan just mentioned that Blaine will be in the city then, too,” she said mentioning Katie’s dear friend. “Apparently he’s still digging into all that Iain McAuley mess. Anyway, you should come. Shay has a place in the city, right?”
Kira had already told Tessa everything, or most everything, about the big change in her life. It had felt good just getting the chance to tell someone, and, at the same time, get Tessa’s perspective on . . . things. Tessa had known of Kira’s interest in Shay before her own big day, and hated that she was absent for her friend now, especially since Kira had been there for her during her tumultuous love affair with Roan.
“He does, and he’s already told me he’d like me to see his offices there. Introduce me around.”
“That’s good then, right? He is involving you in his life, introducing you to people he works with. All good signs.”
“Aye, he is, and they are.”
Tessa knew Kira well enough to hear what her friend wasn’t saying. “But you don’t want to come?”
“No, no, it’s not that, not at all. In fact, I think it sounds like a lovely holiday. It’s just . . . he still hasn’t invited me to his place here yet. And I don’t know that I want to extend the boundaries of our relationship any more broadly, if you know what I mean, until he’s feeling sure enough of us to include me fully in his life here. Introducing me in Edinburgh is good, but also . . . distant. His other life, as it were. I do want to be a part of that, but it’s his life here—our life here—that’s most important.”
“Maybe this is just the path he needs to take to get there. It’s been a week, you said, since you talked about all this?”
“Aye. As I told you, we didn’t go to his place that day because . . . well, it was such a turning point, a good one, and . . . I wanted the invitation to come from him.”
“And . . . it hasn’t? Has he even mentioned it?”
“He ended up back in Edinburgh and has been swamped most of the week with a big case they’re trying to wrap up through mediation so they can avoid a court trial over the holidays. So, no, but to be fair, I don’t necessarily take it as an indication of anything other than bad timing.”
“Okay,” Tessa said, then paused. “Are you sure?”
“Aye, I’m sure,” Kira said, and as she said the words, she knew they were true. Essentially, anyway. Life had sort of gotten in the way just when it seemed they had made a critical leap forward, but that was what life did. “Neither of us are big on the Christmas holiday. Apparently his father was generally too busy working to do much and Shay spent most of his Christmases with Graham’s family, or with whatever family Roan was with. You and I know what it was like at school, and, well . . .”
“I know. I know it’s hard for you. I remember you saying Thomas used to make a big deal out of Christmas.”
“He was like a child in his excitement over it, aye,” Kira said, referring to her ex. “I’ve . . . just kind of avoided all that since.”
“Understandable. But maybe . . . I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m a disgustingly-in-love new bride, but maybe this could be a new beginning for you and Shay, a time to forge new traditions, to put your own stamp on the holiday. You know? Or maybe Edinburgh would be perfect, and you could both escape the whole event. I know you said the island celebrations were a bit over the top.”
“They are.” Kira smiled, though, thinking about all the plans being made and how festive everything was. She’d completely hidden out through the past two, but this year, walking through the village. . . rather than thinking about her marriage and all the bittersweet and downright painful memories associated with it and this time of year, she’d instead found her thoughts going back much further in time. Remembering, instead, her holidays as a child in Kinloch, waiting for St. Nick. She’d loved the season when she was little, every last thing about it. And, yes, she’d thought about Shay, and what it would be like to have a brand-new holiday memory with him, to help dim some of the more painful recent ones.
“Have you two talked about it? What you’ll do?”
Kira laughed. “We’ve talked about talking about it, but with this case he’s working, we’ve barely had time to say hello and keep current on what’s happening day-to-day. He’s due home later today, so perhaps this evening.” Though, if their brief phone call last evening had been any indication, it was doubtful either of them had talking as the foremost thing on their mind. Had Shay not been interrupted by yet another business intrusion, she might have had her first ever experience with phone sex.
“I’ve got to run,” Tessa said. “Let me know what happens and we’ll make plans. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the new year!”
“Okay, that’s good,” Kira said. “You sound . . . happy, Tessa. Remind me to give that husband of yours a big hug when you get back. I owe him.”
“I am,” Tessa said, sounding like the young girl Kira had gone to boarding school with again, which was a miracle in and of itself, given how broken Tessa had been when she’d first arrived on Kinloch. “And give your man a hug, too . . . and hold on, Kira. I saw the way he looked at you. He is your man. Just . . . hold on to him.”
“I plan to,” Kira said, and they disconnected just as a rap came on the cottage door.
Kira scrambled out of the kitchen chair and almost tripped over herself to get to the door. Shay wasn’t due back until later and, by now, he usually just knocked once to let her know he was there, then entered on his own. Still, she scrambled.
She realized she was still in nightgown and robe, but didn’t care. Having gotten an idea for the basket design she was weaving in the wee hours, she’d risen early and dived right in. Besides, she’d been too restless to sleep without Shay next to her.
She held her robe closed with her fist, and opened the door. Then clutched her robe more tightly at the sight of a liveried footman, standing on her doorstep. “I—I’m sorry, can I help you? Are you lost?”
“Kira MacLeod?”
“Aye, that’s me. What’s this—”
“I’ve been sent with an invitation. If you’ll be so kind as to read it, miss, and give me your reply?”
“I—what is this all about?”
The man, in full powdered wig and gloves, no less, made quite the show of handing her a crisp, white envelope. She couldn’t quite tell if he was merely staying in character . . . or if he simply was a character.
She broke the seal and opened the envelope, then slid out an engraved invitation. She read it out loud. “The pleasure of your company is requested at No. 23 on the North Road, this evening. Half past six. Requested attire . . . Anything you don’t mind being torn off your—” She stopped, suddenly realizing whom this was from . . . and that she was reciting things out loud to the footman that perhaps she’d ought not to. She cleared her throat and finished reading in silence, her heart already pounding, then looked back at the footman. “I’ll be there. I—what I mean to say is . . . I accept the invitation.”
“Quite good, miss,” he said, and actually sketched a sharply delivered bow that the Queen would approve. “I shall be round to pick you up at quarter past the hour.”
“You’ll—you’re picking me up?”
“Aye, miss.”
Kira was grinning now. “Okay then. Oh, let me get you a tip, hold on.”
The man looked as horrified as if she’d suggested she might be stripping naked right there in her doorway. “That won’t be necessary, miss. I’ll ring at quarter past six.”
“Thank you,” Kira said, and watched him bow again, then make his way down the walk. She craned her neck to look around to the side lot, to spy what he was driving, half expecting to see a carriage and team of horses, but a viciously cold wind chose that moment to whip past the open doorway, and she ducked back inside and shut the door.
She turned and leaned back against it, and read the note again, then held it against her chest. Then she might have danced a little jig. Just a small one. Twice. She wanted to dash to grab her mobile and call Shay straight away to find out what was behind all this, but he’d clearly set a plan in motion, and she was willing—quite willing—to play along.
“I guess I’d better go see what outfit I won’t mind never wearing again.” She skipped to her bedroom.
When the footman rang again, precisely at quarter past six, Kira was already in her long, black wool coat and slim heeled boots. She grabbed the handles of the gift bag she’d put on the front table, and followed the footman outside. No carriage awaited, but there was a sleek black town car. She couldn’t recall that there was anyone on Kinloch who drove a town car that Shay might have hired out for the evening, but that didn’t really matter.
What mattered was that Shay had finally invited her to his home. And he was doing so in style.