Winter's End (10 page)

Emma was stunned by
her directness. She never had really given a thought of how she was going to
explain her relationship with Richard. She didn't think she owed an explanation
to anyone. Not ever did she have to in London. But this was Skye. This was
different.

What should she say?
That Richard was her brother-in-law? Her deceased husband’s elder brother, who
maintained close ties with her and her children and coincidently was single?

She gulped nervously.
“A friend from London.”

Lisa’s eyes widened
with excitement. “Really? Any potential love interest?”

“No!” Emma almost
screamed it out aloud. “No, just a friend.”

“Oh, alright. If you
say so. Listen, there’s a dance party for couples at The Gaelic Inn in
Dunvegan
. We would love it if you and your friend could
make it. Bill and I will be going and we would love to have you both as
company.”

“I don’t know, Lisa,”
Emma said, wondering if Richard would be interested in going to a dance with
her at all. Not after the row she had three days ago. But she also had no idea
how long he was intending to stay.

“Well, here are the
tickets anyway. Forward me the money whenever you’re ready, as long as it’s
before the twentieth of March.” She pulled out two grey tickets from her wallet
and handed them over to her.

Emma took them
hesitantly.

“Our differences
aside, it is for a good cause, Emma. They’re trying to raise funds to buy
computers for the local school. I do hope you’ll go.”

Emma smiled. “I’ll do
my best. And if Richard won’t accompany me, I might just take along Mrs.
Kinnaird.”

Lisa almost gasped.

Emma burst into
laughter. “Oh Lisa. I won’t. I promise.”

“About Mrs.
Kinnaird,” Lisa said. “I didn't mean to describe her as a devil woman or
anything. People have just kept away from her. That’s how it has always been.
Please, don’t take me wrong.”

Emma put her hand
over hers. “Don’t worry about it Lisa. Really.”

When she arrived
home, the children were watching television and Richard was in the conservatory,
reading.

He must have heard
her because he followed her into the kitchen. “You’re late,” he said, watching
her unpack the groceries.

“Yeah. I got chatting
with Lisa Johnston. She lives at number 17 down the road,” she mumbled. She
wasn’t quite in the mood of an explanation.

“You could have
called,” he said, gruffly. “You have a phone.”

“So do you Richard,
if you desperately wanted to find out,” she retorted.

He walked over to her
in two quick steps and grabbed her by the elbows. “Do you know how worried I
was?” he whispered, angrily. “Not knowing where you were. Where you had gone.
Don't you think of anyone else other than yourself?”

She shut her eyes,
not wanting to see his riled ones. She would have shut her ears if he had not
been holding onto her arms so tightly. Unable to restrain herself anymore, she
let her tears flow from her eyes.

“Is that how you see
me, Richard?” she quivered. “Selfish and uncaring?”

His eyes softened on
seeing her tears and pulled her into his arms.

They stood there
silent for a while, her head resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around
her.

It had been long
since she felt the warmth of a man. Leaning onto Richard right now made her
feel good.

“I was worried,” he
whispered softly against her hair. “And we seem to be stepping on each other’s
toes lately.”

She sniffled against
his shirt. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have
been just as bad.”

“You’ve been so good
to us, Richard. I feel sometimes I take advantage of it. Now more than ever. Maybe
once you’ve settled with your own family, I might be able…”

He lifted her chin
and looked into her eyes. He ran his fingers through her loose auburn hair. “I
think I probably am going about this the wrong way.” He let go of her and began
to walk out of the kitchen.

“Richard, what is
it?” she said, baffled. “Where are you going?”

“To take a cold
shower,” he replied, his voice husky as he tried to stifle a primitive beat in
his heart. She had affected him yet again.

*****

The next four days
were different from the initial days of Richard’s arrival. Emma found herself
to be enjoying them. She was laughing more and cherishing the days Richard was
spending with them. She discovered that both, she and Richard had entered an
unspoken, new level in their relationship.

They and the children
were seated on a floor rug before the fire in the conservatory while they
lightly bickered and brawled over the games they should play. Richard was
laying comfortably, his head resting on Emma’s lap, his mouth curved into a
small smile as his eyelids fluttered, drifting him into a pleasurable sleep.

The door bell rang
and Jai offered to answer it.

“Gran!” he screamed
with delight at the elderly woman.

“Hi there, lad,”
Ethel smiled. “Where’s the rest of the clan?”

“In the
conservatory,” he answered cheerfully. “Uncle Richard’s here.”

“Oh,” said Ethel, her
brow raised. “Who is Uncle Richard?”

“Oh, my dad’s
brother.”

“
Ahh
,
okay,” said Ethel, nodding her head. “Let's go and meet him.”

She followed the excited,
young boy into the conservatory. But she stopped short when she saw the rather
intimate way in which the man was laying on Emma’s lap.

“Ethel,” said Emma
glad to see her friendly neighbour.

“I’m sorry,” said
Ethel, frowning. “Have I come at a wrong time?”

“Not at all,” said
Emma, shaking Richard awake. “This is Richard.”

Ethel browsed the man
who was now standing by Emma, with her eyes. He was good-looking, almost
handsome. She wondered of their closeness.

“Jai, tells me you’re
late Mr. Robert Winston’s brother,” she said, once they were introduced.

Emma grew slightly
flustered.

“I am,” said Richard.
“Robert’s older brother.”

Ethel nodded and seated
herself onto a couch.

“Emma, I would kindly
like a cup of tea, thank you. Probably something citrusy for this beautiful
mid-afternoon. What do you think, Richard?”

Richard gave Emma a
brief glance. “If it isn't too much trouble?”

Emma nodded. “No, no
trouble at all.”

“Jai,” said Ethel.
“Theodore has brought you a new game. Why don’t you have a whack at it with
your sister?”

Jai gave a squeal of
delight as he raced off to find Theodore with Hannah following close at his
heels.

“You didn’t have to
Ethel. You do spoil them,” said Emma.

“
Aah
,”
Ethel sighed. “I don’t know how long I would be able to keep up with it. Let me
enjoy it while I can.”

Finally alone, Ethel
watched the man across her. “How long have you known Emma?”

“Isn’t that something
I should be asking you?” said Richard. “From what I gather, she has only been
your neighbour for barely four months and the children are already calling you
‘Gran’.”

“An old woman wants
grandchildren to love. She has none of her own so she adopts them. There isn’t
much interest or suspicion in that, is there Richard? But from what I have seen
a while ago, I cannot say the same for you.”

A muscle twitched in
his jaw.“What goes on between Emma and myself, Mrs. Kinnaird, is solely Emma’s
and my business. We owe no one an explanation,” Richard said firmly.

“Of course not,”
Ethel answered. “But I do love the lass like she was my own. You understand why
I am protective of her.”

“I do. And I am very
appreciative of that.
 
I was worried when
Emma relocated to Skye. She has no one here to rely on. But the children told
me about you and I must say that your kindness to them has eased me
tremendously.”

Ethel smiled. “I can
see that you play a major part in their lives. Far greater than what most
uncles would normally do.”

“Richard and I were
friends before I married Robert,” interrupted Emma, walking in with a tray of
delicious edibles and tea. She sat it down on the coffee table. “After our
marriage, Robert got busy in building a new architecture firm of his own so I
had to depend on Richard for most things. He was there, at every precious
moment of the children’s lives.”

“And what is it that
you do, Richard?”

“I head the family
architecture business after my father’s passing,” replied Richard, somewhat
drily.

“Oh, and Robert
didn’t want to be a part of the family business?” Ethel asked curiously.

“Robert always was
independent,” Emma replied. “He was a free thinker. He hated being constrained
to anything. He disliked rules and policies that bound a person. He believed
they were needless obstacles that prevented a person from being creative.
 
That is why he split from the family company
to make something of his own. I liked that about him.”

Ethel watched
Richard. He was quiet and appeared distant. It seemed that it was a sentiment
not equally shared.

Two hours later, she
was sitting in her own parlour evaluating the conversation with Emma and
Richard.

“Theodore,” she said.
“Find out more of Mr. Winston’s architecture business, will you.”

“Yes, Madam,” said
the butler, now retired in his favourite chair in the corner of the room.

She flapped the local
newspaper. “Christopher seems far left out of the local social scene, don't you
think?”

“Ahem,” Theodore
coughed.

“Maybe I should get
him to come over early this spring. Well, the faster he gets here the better.
Have we tried the fracture?”

“We did, My Lady.
Last summer.”

“Oh well. Maybe we
could go with a cold then,” Ethel shrugged dismissively.

“You came out of that
in early winter, Madam.”

“Good, good,” said
Ethel. “Which makes it all the more convincing… and true.”

*****

Emma and Richard
walked along the pebbled beach that skirted Emma’s property. The children ran
ahead playing on the edges of the small waves that splashed against the
shoreline.

Richard carried a
small smile as he watched children from a distant, his eyes often glazed with a
thought. Unconsciously he put a hand around Emma’s slim waist and pulled her
close to him.

Emma loved the feel
of his warm body and gladly tucked herself into it. “What are you thinking?”
she asked.

“It's not a bad place
for the kids,” he said.

She pulled away,
grinning. “Richard Winston, don’t tell me you agree with this move after all
that fuss you created back in London?”

He grinned back. “I
like it. But I can't say I won’t miss you all when I’ll go back to London.”

“When do you go
back?”

“In two weeks.” He
lifted her chin with a finger. “But I will do my best to come over as much as I
can.” He turned towards the house that sat higher than the shoreline. The bay
was also clearly visible from the house and he admired the blue it exuded,
particularly on a good day as this one. “And I was also thinking of making
adjustments to the property. Probably build myself an office. That is if the
owner doesn’t mind.”

Emma laughed as he
put an arm around her shoulders to pull her back to him. “Send me a requisition,
Mr. Winston and I will think about it.”

The bells of the
phone reverberated outside the walls of the house. Richard could barely
understand Emma’s muffled voice as she spoke into it. He was standing outside
the perimeter of the house, observing it’s sides. He then started circling it,
paying close attention to the walls and roof, often throwing glances at the
bay.

“Richard,” he heard
Emma call out for him.

“Here,” he answered,
peeking his head out from the side of the house so she could see him.

“What are you doing?”
Emma asked, puzzled.

“Figuring a good spot
for that office we talked about,” he smiled.

“But we haven’t quite
discussed it, have we?” she said.

He stepped back, a
little disappointed. “You don’t think it's a good idea?”

She laughed. “Oh,
Richard, I just meant you haven’t quite thought it through. Are you sure you
want to spend your days in Skye conducting office work?”

“I like Skye,” he
said grinning. “And as long as you and the kids are here, I’m happy to conduct
some of my business from here.”