“Hello,” he said with a little Regency-style bow. He was suddenly in front of me, tote bags gone, and it felt as though we were the only people in the room.
“Hi,” I replied as he took my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “No Gus tonight.”
“He had other plans, I’m afraid.”
“I didn’t think you were coming. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind.”
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to dance with you, Ms Taylor.”
“You don’t have to act Regency all night you know,” I said with a smile. “Although can I just say you look magnificent dressed like that.”
“Hmmm,” he replied doubtfully. “It’s not the most comfortable outfit I’ve ever worn. But this gown…” He looked at me and smiled again, his eyes dropping momentarily to my chest.
“Also not that comfortable,” I said. “Are you OK? You didn’t look great when you arrived.”
“Sorry, we were stuck in traffic and I’ve been in the car with Philomena for the last two and a half hours. It’s a bit much.” He was still holding my hand and I didn’t ever want him to let go. “Is there somewhere we can go?” he said. “Somewhere quiet.”
I was about to tell him to go to the office and I’d follow him in a minute when I realised that most of the Die-Hards were gathered around us, staring.
“What?” I asked, trying to signal at them to go away.
As one, Missy, Bella, Dot and my mother all pointed up. Xander and I followed their fingers with our eyes. We were standing under a huge bunch of mistletoe. I felt my stomach contract and my cheeks heat.
“Well, Ms Taylor,” Xander said. “There’s only one thing for it.”
His arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me towards him, pressing me against his body. He ducked his head, that lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as his lips brushed against mine, gently taking my bottom lip between his. Every nerve ending in my body leaped to attention and I almost forgot anyone else was there as my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, his tongue against mine – gently at first and then harder as my fingers reached up into his hair. When he stopped everyone around us started cheering and wolf-whistling and my face felt as though it was on fire, but Xander was still holding me close.
“I love it when you blush like that,” he whispered in my ear, making me blush all over again.
“Now everybody is here,” Trixie called above the ruckus, “we can begin the quadrille.”
Philomena bustled over to us. “Darling,” she said, pressing me to her bosom. “I have something for you.” She turned to Xander. “Give her the envelope,” she said bossily.
Xander took a white envelope out of the inside pocket of his tailcoat and handed it to me.
“Now,” Philomena said. “You have a read of that while I dance with Xander.”
I noticed that Philomena didn’t call him Alex. I also noticed the look of abject horror that briefly crossed his face when his first dance partner was announced.
Philomena looked at us both before dragging Xander away. “Such beautiful people,” she said. “You’re going to have the most gorgeous babies.” I felt myself blush again and an indecipherable look flashed across Xander’s face.
The envelope contained my contract of employment with Bloom & Cuthbert, laying out all the terms and conditions, benefits and surprisingly good pay packet. I needed to look over it properly of course but for now I just held it to my chest and smiled to myself. It was really happening, the future that I never thought would come was finally here.
Be brave, Meg.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” My father had suddenly appeared at my elbow.
“Oh, it’s my contract,” I said, showing him.
“I’m really proud of you, Megan,” he said. “I know what a big step this is for you.”
“It’s the right time,” I said.
“I know, but it can’t be easy.”
“I’m not sure if anything worth doing is easy,” I replied.
“Anyway, your mother sent me over here. As that Bloom woman has commandeered Xander for the quadrille I wondered if you’d like to dance with me?”
I looked at him for a moment and he grinned at me. “That would be lovely, Dad,” I said.
Unsurprisingly the quadrille soon got out of hand, mostly because Philomena had no idea what she was doing and the whole thing quickly descended into a cross between line dancing and the Charleston.
“That’s quite enough,” Trixie’s clipped tones bit through the party atmosphere. “Can we please try again with those people who know what they’re doing?”
“Looks like I’m in trouble,” Philomena said as she left the dance floor to get another drink. Mum replaced me as Dad’s partner and Xander took my arm and drew me towards him.
“That was an experience I don’t ever want to repeat,” he said. When I glanced up at him he looked seasick.
We danced the quadrille that we’d been dancing for weeks. I messed most of it up but Xander managed to cover for me. He’d clearly been practising without me, whatever he’d said about having forgotten it all, although he had always had an innate lightness in the way he moved. It must be that ‘float like a butterfly’ thing that boxers seem to have.
Afterwards, when all the party guests had applauded and then wanted Trixie to teach them, I was taken aside by Fred Bishop, who I hadn’t seen properly in years.
“I hope you won’t hold all this against me,” he said.
“All what?” I asked.
He waved a hand at the shop around us. “Buying this place, developing it. I am sorry it won’t be a bookshop anymore but…”
“Bookshops don’t make any money,” I sighed. It was true. We’d been struggling for longer than any of us were willing to admit and I hated the fact that Taylor’s was about to become a statistic but it was obvious that all of us – me, Mum, Missy, even Colin – wanted different things. If my burning ambition was to keep the bookshop going then maybe I could have done something to save it. But heart-breaking as the next few weeks were going to be, I knew it was the right thing. “I’m not going to hold that against you,” I said.
Fred nodded. “Your mum said you might be looking for a flat.”
“Yes, I was hoping you’d help me with that.”
“I’ll even give you mates’ rates.”
“I should bloody well think so.” I laughed.
When I looked around for Xander he was deep in conversation with Colin, which I hoped wasn’t going to escalate. Rather than disturb them I did the rounds with the guests, topping up wine glasses and wishing everyone a merry Christmas. Nearly an hour had passed before I felt Xander’s touch on my elbow, that familiar tingle of electricity.
“Everything all right?” I asked. “How’s Colin?”
“I haven’t had a go at him, if that’s what you mean,” he said with a smile. “I just wanted to reassure him that it was OK, that I wasn’t going to drag his name through the mud.”
“I must say, you’re being much more understanding about this than you were when you thought it was me who blabbed to the papers,” I said with a nudge.
“You will never know how sorry I am about that. I was hurting and it made me think about Mum all over again and I shouldn’t have taken any of that out on you.”
“I know,” I said. I knew that our argument had been about so much more than Ruby Bell.
“It would have come out eventually and, as Philomena keeps telling me, it will only improve sales.”
“Thank you for being kind to Colin.”
Xander shrugged. “He’s young. We all do dumb things when we’re young. Well, I certainly did!”
I saw Philomena heading towards us again.
“Can we find that quiet place to talk now?” he asked. “I have to be back in London for Christmas lunch and I don’t really want to share you with everyone here for the whole evening.”
“Come with me,” I said, gently leading him away from Philomena, around the back of one of the bookcases and into the office, locking the door behind us. There was only the desk left in here now so I sat on it and Xander came to stand in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his thighs pressing against my knees.
“This is like that book you lent me,” he said.
“The Devil in Winter?” I asked.
He nodded, his eyes not leaving mine. “With you in these skirts and me in this tailcoat, we could re-enact a few scenes from it.”
“So you did like it?”
“I told you I didn’t hate it.”
“Which bits did you like best?” I asked.
He bent towards me, his lips close to my ear. “The filthy bits,” he whispered. I could hear the smile on his breath and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as he kissed the spot just below my ear and then pulled away, his hands sliding down my arms and his fingers entwining with mine.
“I want to make this work, Megan,” he said softly. “I know that hasn’t quite been the impression I’ve given over the last week – as I said I’m not very good at this – but as soon as I got back to London on Friday, I knew I’d made a mistake. All I wanted was to be back here with you.”
“Your brother was right about you,” I said.
“He’s looking forward to meeting you. All my noisy siblings are.” He smiled. “Good luck with that.”
I rested my forehead against him, breathing in the scent of him. I could hardly believe he was here. I could hardly bear the tension between us, the anticipation, the need. “Is Philomena going back to London with you tonight?” I asked.
“No, thank God.” He laughed. “She’s staying in York for Christmas. Did she not tell you?”
“No.”
“She wants to spend some time with you and pick up some bargains in your Boxing Day sale.”
“Lucky me,” I said, wishing it was Xander who was spending Christmas in York.
“I’ll be back after Christmas,” he said, kissing my hair. “I’ll come up to York every weekend if you want me to.”
I sat back a little, looking up at him. “You don’t have to do that. We can take this slowly.”
“I want to be with you,” he replied. “And I hope you want to be with me. The rest we can work out as we go along.” He held my gaze again and it almost took my breath away. “I’ll do anything I have to do to make this work.”
When he’d first talked about that when we were snowed in Graydon Hall – when he’d told me that anyone worthy of me would wait until I was ready – I’d known then he was talking about himself but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, too scared to even consider the possibility. Meeting Xander had changed my life in so many ways.
I squeezed his fingers between mine. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not scared,” I said quietly, hardly able to look at him. “But I am ready, Xander – I want to be with you.”
He let go of my fingers then, cupping my face in his hands instead. He smiled at me. “I told you that the people I care about call me Alex.”
“And you care about me.” It wasn’t a question, I already knew it was true – just as I knew that he was fussy about what sort of tea he drank and which restaurants he would eat in, just as I knew that he was a good cook (which was just as well considering how bad my family were in the kitchen), that he acted snobby and uppity when he was anxious and shy, and that he was often hopeless at trying to talk about how he was feeling, that he was better at writing things down. There was so much I didn’t know about him too, but I wanted to get to know all of it. And I wanted to share my life with him.
His thumbs gently stroked my face. “Of course I care about you,” he said. “I’m scared too you know, but…” He paused, and I heard the hitch in his breath. “I love you, Megan.”
My heart turned over at that. I hadn’t realised how much I’d needed to hear him say it, to know that this was something real, the next step in the complex, sad, funny, terrifying adventure that was life.
I touched his face, my hand trailing over his jawline, his incredible cheekbones and into his hair. “I love you too,” I said. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to calling you Alex.”
He shrugged, bending down to kiss me.
“We can work on that,” he said.