Chapter Fourteen
Rhys didn’t leave early the next morning to begin working.
He wanted to see both girls before he left and make sure all was well with them.
He also wasn’t sure he wanted to work, despite Cat’s encouragement last night.
He was tired, mentally, physically. He’d benefit from a long run and then time spent with his children.
But for now, the cottage was swathed in shadows and peace, and he sat with a cup of coffee at the kitchen table going through emails, answering ones he needed to.
“Dad?” Jillian stood in the doorway, wearing one of his oversized sweatshirts.
“Hello, love,” he said, holding an arm out to her. “That looks good on you.”
She came to him and let herself be folded against his chest. “I wore it last night to bed. I was missing you.”
“I’m sorry. I had to go to London.”
“But you came back.”
He kissed her temple. “I always come back.” He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “Why were you missing me? Did something happen?”
“You didn’t read to us.”
“You like the story.”
“It’s okay.”
He smashed his smile, and drew her onto his lap, and was reminded all over again that although she was now growing up quickly, she was still his little girl. “What’s on your mind?”
“Mum isn’t answering my calls.”
“There’s a time difference between here and the Caribbean. It might not always be convenient for her to take a call, but she’ll be back, and everything will feel more normal again.”
“Why couldn’t she go on the trip after Christmas? Why go for Christmas?”
“It’s the first Christmas without her, and it’s hard, I know.”
Jillian looked up at him, her eyes dark with emotion. “Is it hard for you too?”
He had to be careful with this answer because it was hard, but not for the reasons Jillian might expect.
“It’s hard because I know how much you girls miss her,” he answered after a moment.
“I am happiest when you and Livy are happy. But at the same time, your mum and I aren’t married anymore, and it was inevitable that one day she’d meet someone who made her happy. And we want her happy, don’t we?”
Jillian sniffed and nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “She could at least answer a text. That’s easy enough.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have her phone on her.”
“Mum always has her phone,” Jillian answered flatly.
“Maybe she is on the beach or in the pool,” he suggested. “Or out on a sailboat. I don’t know that she’d have reception if she’s on the water away from the shore.”
“Then she could have texted me something before she went sailing, even if it’s just to say she won’t be available.” Jillian’s voice broke, and she suddenly sounded every bit the child she was. “It’s what she’d say I had to do if I wasn’t going to be available.”
“She’s not trying to upset you, Jilly. The last thing your mum wants to do is hurt your feelings,” he said, holding her. “She probably thinks you are having the best time here—”
“No. I told her we weren’t,” Jillian said against his shoulder. “She knows I want to be with her.”
He held his breath, counted to five before exhaling. Divorce was awful. This wasn’t what Rhys ever wanted for his daughters. “Your mum and I love you, and your sister, very much. We will always be a family, whether we’re under one roof or not.”
Jillian frowned. “Mum says that, and I hate it.”
“The point is, no one will ever replace you. It’s impossible.” He gave her a little squeeze. “I love you, Jilly.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” Then after a long moment, she added, “Can I have some hot chocolate? With extra marshmallows.”
He smiled and tapped her nose, relieved that this was something he could do. “Absolutely.”
*
Olivia was definitely on the mend, and so far, no one else had caught her cold, which was good with Christmas Eve tomorrow. The earl and his wife had invited them to join them for Christmas dinner, and Rhys had accepted, but that depended on everyone being healthy.
While Rhys worked at the main house, the girls worked on the sitting room floor in a sea of tissue paper and ribbon.
Catriona sat cross-legged beside the coffee table, trimming a length of tartan ribbon while Olivia, nose red from blowing it so much, carefully folded paper around a small box.
Jillian was hunched over another, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tied a neat bow.
“You two are getting very good at this,” Cat said, reaching for another roll of tape. “At this rate, you’ll have everything wrapped before I even start.”
“That’s because we like surprises,” Olivia said with a sniffle. “We’re making them look too nice to guess what’s inside.”
Jillian shot her sister a look. “Don’t tell her that. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
Cat laughed softly. “Then I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word.”
The phone on the kitchen wall began to ring, the sudden sound startling in the cozy quiet. “That phone never rings,” Jillian said, glancing up.
“It might be Mrs. Booth,” Cat said, pushing to her feet. “She’s used it before.” In the kitchen, Cat lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Catriona?”
Cat blinked in surprise, the warm American accent immediately giving away who the speaker was. “Lady Sherbourne.”
“No, please, just Cara. I just saw Rhys, and he said you are all here, and I thought you and the girls might enjoy a change of scenery. Why don’t you all come up to the house for tea this afternoon?
Say two o’clock? Mrs. Johnson would love to have tea with the girls in the kitchen while they help her with some holiday baking, she’s planning on little cakes for the children for Christmas. ”
“That’s very kind of you,” Cat said, glancing toward the sitting room where Olivia was now wrestling with a roll of tape and Jillian was offering very serious advice, “but Olivia’s been sick, and I’m not sure she should be among others yet. I know you have little ones.”
“Who were sick over Thanksgiving for weeks. It’s why we didn’t head to Bellingham for Christmas, although we had tickets and hotel rooms booked.”
“Do you go back to Washington a lot?
“No, actually, we don’t. It’s a long trip from here, but it’s my parents sixtieth wedding anniversary January first and we’d hoped to be there for the holidays and party.
However, they understand. Traveling with sick kids is no one’s idea of fun …
or being home with them for that matter. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine. Olivia is the sweetest and Rhys did most of the sick bed tending. He’s a very good doctor and nurse.”
“Is there any way you could come up for a visit if Rhys has the girls?”
“I wouldn’t ask him—”
“He’s standing here right now saying he can definitely switch places with you. He said you deserve a break. So, two o’clock?”
Cat cleared her throat. “May I speak to him?”
“Yes, just a moment.” Cara laughed as she handed the phone over. “Rhys, she’d like to speak with you.”
“Cat?” His voice was clipped, and he sounded every bit the prominent surgeon he was.
“Did you really offer to come here so I could go there?”
“I did.”
“Rhys, you have work to do.”
“I can do it there. And you deserve some girl time. Adult girl time,” he clarified.
She couldn’t help smiling. “It does sound fun, and very English.”
“Even though Cara is hopelessly American?”
“Tell me she can’t hear you!”
There was a smile in his voice. “Oh, she can, but she’s laughing. She says she’s a hopeless countess and could use some American conversation.”
“I’ll be there at two.”
Cat hung up and stood in the kitchen smiling. She was actually quite excited to go to Langley Park for tea, as well as meet this American who had snared the handsome earl—although apparently at the time he’d been the viscount.
At quarter to two, Rhys arrived at the cottage. He’d walked back but he insisted on driving Catriona to the house as it was quite cold and blustery, and he didn’t think she’d want to walk in her delicate little heels.
“I’ll wear my boots then,” Cat protested. “And I can change before I enter the house.”
“Or you can just let me drive you, and I’ll come collect you when you’re finished.”
The girls were excited that Cat was going for tea with Lady Sherbourne and agreed that their father should drive her.
They didn’t like her first outfit, said it wasn’t posh enough for afternoon tea, but then reluctantly approved her soft ivory cashmere jumper when she said it was really the nicest thing she had.
“Also, leave your hair down,” Jillian added. “You don’t need to pull it all back when you’re not working.”
“It will look messy,” Cat protested, knowing her thick hair was harder to manage after she’d just washed it, and she’d just washed it that morning.
“It won’t. It looks natural, and quite nice,” Jillian assured her. “I could loan you my hairband—”
“No, I’ll just leave it loose but thank you for the help. I feel much better now about tea with Lady Sherbourne.”
In the car, Rhys smiled at Cat. “Jillian has lots of opinions.”
“She gave me invaluable advice,” Cat said, smiling back.
He drove her to the front door, which Cat hadn’t used before. “Shouldn’t I use the side door?” she asked him. “Isn’t that what you use?”
“But you’re a guest today, going for afternoon tea.
It’s proper to use the front door.” He slowed and then braked at the front of the elegant Georgian facade, afternoon sun glazing the rows of tall windows.
“You’ll like Cara. She’s lovely and funny.
Very down to earth. Just call me when you’re ready for a lift home. ”
Cat felt a bit like a child being dropped off for her first day at a new school as she used the brass knocker to announce her arrival, butterflies filling her stomach.
Cara opened the front door almost immediately, her smile quick and warm. “Come in, come in,” Cara said. “It’s terribly cold today. Snow must be in the forecast.”