Winter's End (21 page)

He didn’t seem to
have heard her enter or pretended so.

“Hi,” she said.

He turned, surprised.
He switched off the treadmill and stepped off it. Reaching for a towel, he
began wiping his face. “Hi,” he replied.

“Nice gym,” she said.

He looked at her
curiously. “Yeah.”

“You workout often?”
She bit her lip, feeling silly she had asked that. She would have kicked
herself, had he not been looking at her.

He arched an eyebrow.
“Twice a day, if I can help it.”

She bent her head,
twitching nervously at her fingers. “I just wanted to say, thank you for taking
Jai out. He needed it.”

He nodded.

She continued, trying
to avoid his eyes. “He was telling me about the boathouse and his yacht ride.
He said he’s an equal partner to all of it, whatever that means.” She finished
with a nervous laugh.

He smiled.

She said, “Jai seems
to really like you. Hannah too. They can’t stop talking about you. Hannah’s,
though, a little upset that you didn’t take her on your yacht. And Jai’s been
taunting her about it since he’s arrived. He can be quite a rascal sometimes.”
She knew she was rambling. She closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath
before lifting her head. “Thank you for making this easy on them.”

His eyes had
darkened, watching her, his mouth drawn into a thin, hard line.

She stood there
skittish, wondering what he was thinking about. When she realised he
wasn
‎
’t going
to respond, she turned around, feeling more foolish. She began to walk out when
she heard him say, “Emma.”

She turned back at
him.

“I would love to take
Hannah for a cruise on the yacht. Perhaps, if you’re interested, you might like
to come too?”

“I’d love that,” she
said, the corners of her lips turning into a smile.

He nodded and stepped
back onto the treadmill, switching it on.
 
His eyes focused determinedly ahead of him as he resumed his jog. When
he heard her footsteps fade into the hallway, he smiled.

*****

He joined his
grandmother in the parlour in the evening. She was playing with her small,
brown, fluffy Pomeranian on her lap while her other white Maltese, danced
around her feet vying for her attention.

“Hi, there Sadie,” he
said, gathering the little Maltese in his arms. “Granny’s been ignoring you,
has she?”

The white dog lapped
at his hands, rubbing itself happily against his chest.

“Where’s everyone?”
he asked.

“You keep looking for
them,” she replied, watching out of the corner of her eyes. “Why is that, I
wonder?”

“They keep
disappearing on us,” he grumbled.

“They spend more than
enough time with me. Hannah’s been teaching me that Pauline, the blonde doll is
not Casey, the other blonde doll with the chequered overalls. I think I should
be grateful for any time she does spare me, don’t you think?” she chuckled.

“And what about
Emma?” he asked, curiously. “What has she been up to?”

Ethel smiled. “Emma’s
a lovely lass. But sometimes I wonder what goes on in that pretty red head of
hers. Her eyes keep telling me that she’s always drifting off to another
place.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was with me this
morning, chatting as she read. Then she excused herself and left. I didn’t see
her for a couple of hours. Apparently, she was in the library on her computer
all that time, all by herself,” she said, sighing. “The lass is terribly
lonely, Christopher. I know it because I can feel it. And that loneliness has
been there, inside of her, for so long, I’d bet even she doesn’t know it exists.”

Chris gently placed
Sadie, the Maltese back onto the floor.

“She went back to her
house, today,” added Ethel, letting the brown
Promenarian
join his little canine friend. “I think she misses it. It makes me terribly
guilty for having placed her in this situation.”

Chris raised his
brows. His grandmother had never openly regretted anything she’d done before.

“She’ll come around
it,” she continued. “I know she will.”

Chris folded his arms
across his chest and leant against a table, thinking. Gran had yet to make a
lousy business deal. She never jumped into any situation without considering
and re-considering the consequences. But he still had to verify her skills as a
matchmaker.

“Why do you think she
agreed to marry me?” he asked.

“Why else? For love,”
his grandmother said.

“For me or you?” he
added, sarcastically.

Ethel smiled. She
didn’t answer but instead watched her two dogs wrestle for a small, rubber toy
on her marbled floor.

*****

He walked over to the
kitchen. They were there, just as his grandmother said they would be. He could
hear their voices resonate through the door. This time though, a melodic jig
played in the background. He heard Hannah and Jai singing along with their
mother. Wait…was that Nancy as well? He smiled when he heard Theodore’s voice
add a note of his own.

He shook his head
unbelievingly. What was it about Emma Abbott nee Cameron? She wasn’t a
remarkable beauty like the many women he dated. Yet she had an exquisite,
exotic charm about her.

It was still too
early for dinner and so he curiously wondered as to why they were all gathered
in the kitchen.

He opened the door
gently and walked slowly towards them. He knew they hadn
‎
’t heard him because they were still singing aloud, followed by
a series of teasing, taunts and laughs. Theodore was at the table, a beaming
smile upon his face and a glass of bourbon in his hand. Nancy, Hannah and Jai
were playing a game of cards.

“Go fish,” said
Hannah, beaming as her brother, grumbled and leant forward for another card.

A delicious aroma
streamed towards him. He realised it was escaping from the pot bubbling on the
stove. He frowned. Emma was cooking while their cook was playing cards with their
children.

He watched his new
wife, standing at one end of the table, busily slicing an onion, tears streaking
her face. She sniffed, trying to hold them back.

He stood grounded and
mesmerised by her adorable messiness. Her hair was held back at the top of her
head in a chaotic knot. Loose strands framed her face. From the dust of flour speckling
a spot on her cheeks, he could tell she was also baking.

“Mr. Cameron,” said Theodore,
standing abruptly. “I didn’t see you there, sir. Is there anything you need?”

Despite the
continuing happy tune playing on the
ipod
, the two
women in the room tensed immediately as they turned to him at once.

Hannah’s lips split
into a wide smile. “Papa! We’re playing Go Fish,” she informed. “
Wanna
play?”

Jai ignored him,
grumbling as he picked one more card from the deck of cards on the table.

“That’s alright. I’ll
just sit with Theodore, here,” he smiled back.

 
Theodore shifted nervously at his feet,
puzzled by his employer’s entrance in the kitchen.

“Pour me a glass too,
Theodore,”
 
said Chris, pulling a chair.

Theodore poured him a
drink and then stood uneasily at the table.

Chris looked at him
and then at Nancy, nervously standing at the other end.

“You don’t mind if I
do join you, Theodore?” he asked

“Not at all, sir,”
said Theodore, uncomfortably as he sat back into his chair. He looked at Nancy,
silently indicating for her to sit as well.

She followed suit,
still nervy at the presence of her otherwise usually formal employer in her
kitchen.

Emma, who had been
watching them silently, bit back a smile as she tried to resume her cooking. She
wondered though why he was here with them. According to Nancy and Theodore, he
never came to the kitchen. Not since he was a child. She glanced up at him and
caught his eyes. He was looking at her. She blushed and turned away, a strange
feeling stirring in the pits of her stomach.

“Will you have dinner
with us?” Emma asked, still uncertain as to why he was there with her and the
children in the kitchen. Nancy and Theodore were smart enough to have politely
excused themselves to their own quarters after a little while. She, however,
did not have the same luxury.

“If you don’t mind,”
he replied, downing the last of his bourbon.

She stood at the
stove, holding the spoon in her hand, surprised by his answer. It wasn’t what
she had expected.

“But Ethel will be
dining alone,” she tried. “I could get Nancy to take it up for you, if you
like.”

“I’d like to have
dinner with my wife, thank you,” he said, curtly.

Emma bit her lips and
set the table with Jai and Hannah bubbling around them, helping her with it. It
was a routine she was slowly going to adapt to as he continued to join them for
meals in the kitchen each evening.

It was four days
since she was titled Mrs. Cameron. Emma returned from a day out at
Portree
. It was the first time she had left the mansion since
she was married. The local newspaper had already done a splash of their wedding
on their front page the day following their marriage. It wasn’t therefore surprising
that she was being continually addressed as Mrs. Cameron instead of Mrs.
Winston which she felt rather uncomfortable on hearing. And if there was anyone
else who felt her awkwardness of the title it was her dear friend, Lisa.

They sat together in
Lisa’s home as Lisa poured out a cup of hot, steaming coffee.

“You haven’t slept
with him?” said Lisa.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if I
love him.”

“Does that matter?”

“It does. To me.”

“Why? It’s just sex.”

“It isn’t to me,
Lisa,” Emma sighed. “Sex is more to me. It isn’t just an act. It’s an extension
of how two people feel for each other. A physical manifestation of their love.”

“You’re far too
complicated, Emma,” said Lisa. “For god-sake’s,
 
you haven’t even kissed him yet. Sometimes I
think you live in a completely different era.” Lisa dug into her magazine rack.
“I don’t know how you’ll take this Emma. But you might want to have a look at
this.” She held out a newspaper to her.

“What is it?” Emma
asked curiously.

“Check out page
three,” Lisa said bluntly.

On it was news of their
marriage and the photograph of a blonde beauty on the side. A woman, Chris was
supposedly dating in Los Angeles.

“She’s a model,” said
Lisa. “They’ve been on and off together for three years.”

“I know,” said Emma,
reading the article quietly. She swallowed a lump in her throat. She had
forgotten about his life in America and Ashley Taylor, who she had previously
envied, until today.

“You think he’ll
return to her?” asked Lisa.

“I don’t know,” said
Emma, shakily. “If he loves her, I see no reason why he won’t. I’m just an
inconvenience. An arranged marriage set up by his grandmother.”

Lisa leant forward,
worried for her friend. “Then why do it Emma? I don’t understand. Why?”

*****

Emma recognised the
dark, beautiful Mercedes in the driveway of the Kinnaird mansion. As she expected,
there seated in the parlour was Mrs. Deanna Boyd and a scowling Ethel.

“Mrs. Boyd,” Emma
solemnly greeted.

The other woman rose
from her chair to give Emma a small kiss on her cheek.

“Oh please call me
Deanna,” said the older woman. “We’re practically family now that you’ve
married Christopher.”

Emma gave her a small
smile. She sat opposite her, in a chair farthest from the woman.

“So how’s the new
marriage coming along?” asked Deanna.

Ethel puffed
indignantly. “How do you think, Deanna? They’ve just married. Give them some
room.”

Deanna wasn’t less
miffed. “You should appreciate, Ethel, that I am at least here to convey my
congratulations after you shamefully refused to invite me to the wedding.”

“It wasn’t my wedding
to invite,” Ethel snapped back.

“Oh come off it,
Ethel,” Deanna snarled. “Everyone knows you hitched these two together. You
were desperate for it.”

“Please don’t mind, Mrs.
Boyd,” Emma intervened quickly before Ethel could give another sharp reply.
“There were only a handful of people that we invited. People that were close to
both Chris and I.”