Chapter Sixteen
After checking out an issue with the extractor system, Flynn walked out of the castle kitchens and into flakes of falling snow that settled on his hair and face.
It was bitterly cold after the warmth of the kitchen, so he sheltered in a vaulted porch that led out into the courtyard.
The sky was heavy with low clouds that obscured the fells completely, hiding all their beauty.
A check of his weather app confirmed the news from earlier: the snow wouldn’t stick around long.
The forecast was for a warmer spell with rain.
Weather brought its own challenges for the light trail, although they wouldn’t cancel unless high winds or heavy snow were forecast.
He was about to step into the courtyard when he saw Lara enter at the opposite corner through the gated archway marked ‘Staff Only’.
She was headed straight over the cobbles towards the porch where he was standing.
With her mobile clamped to her ear, she didn’t seem to have noticed him lurking in the doorway.
Flynn waited for her to glance up, slightly apprehensive of what her reaction would be.
He’d barely glimpsed her since their lift kiss a few days earlier. Though disappointed, it didn’t surprise him that their paths hadn’t crossed. She was probably rushed off her feet dealing with the Christmas tours that were taking place at Ravendale during the day.
His own schedule had been non-stop too. Although the initial fevered activity of the launch was over, there was still enough to keep him occupied every minute of the working day and beyond.
It was a miracle he’d managed to find time to go to Keswick the other evening, but he’d been in dire need of a break and some company from outside the castle.
After ending her call, Lara finally noticed him and slowed. Her expression – wary and inexplicably guilt-ridden – spoke volumes.
‘Hello,’ she said. Snowflakes had nestled in her hair and lay on the shoulders of her fleece, adding a fairy-tale Christmas-card effect to her pretty looks.
Lara clutched her phone to her chest defensively, clearly not having the same kind of romantic thoughts. ‘Hi there,’ she said.
‘How are you after the other day?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘After being trapped in the lift. What else?’ He tried a charming smile.
‘Absolutely fine.’
‘Don’t let’s stand in the snow and get cold. Let’s go inside.’
‘I don’t have long,’ Lara said, glancing around her as if she was looking for an excuse to leave.
‘You’re busy, I know. We both are, but we haven’t had time to talk at all lately.’
She joined him in the entrance porch. Melting snowflakes glistened in her lashes. He wanted to kiss them away.
‘No. We’ve both been working …’ She paused and then seemed to brighten up. ‘Although I did go out with Jazz to Keswick on Friday. We saw a film and went to the Greek taverna afterwards.’
‘Oh? Were they any good?’ he asked, pleased that she was engaging with him. ‘The film and the meal, I mean.’
‘The film was good. It was an adaptation of Jamaica Inn, the Daphne du Maurier novel.’
‘I don’t think I’ve read the book.’
‘You don’t need to in order to enjoy the film. The Greek place is great too. I recommend it.’
‘Thanks for the tip. I didn’t know you could get Greek food round here. I must check it out. Where is it exactly? I was there myself the other night and I didn’t see it, but I was only going to the barber’s and then for a quick pint with a friend.’
‘A friend?’ Her voice lifted and she was obviously prompting him to give more detail.
‘Harvey. He works at the National Trust house on Derwentwater. In fact, Harvey is the one who first mentioned the Penhaligons were looking for a replacement for Gerald. I think I might have told you I stayed with him the night before I arrived at Ravendale,’ Flynn said, keen to keep the conversation going.
‘Oh.’ She frowned and Flynn instantly regretted putting his size ten in it. He knew it was still a bit of a sore point that Lara hadn’t been informed about Gerald. ‘I hope you enjoyed yourselves.’
‘We did, although we didn’t have long together. Harv had to get back in time for his kids to write their letters to Father Christmas and I was keen on an early night.’
‘Of course. It’s a busy time.’
‘Yes. Erm … So, you had a good evening? With Jazz,’ he added, changing the subject but desperate to keep her talking.
‘Yes. Yes, it was … We both had a night off, which was why we took the chance to go out.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Not sure that’ll happen again this side of Christmas.’
‘No. Best to take the chance while you can …’ Flynn was floundering a little. It was strange to be making small talk like this, or perhaps it was understandable that they were both skirting around the issue that was occupying his mind much of the time, and was probably occupying hers too.
The fact that they had jumped on each other in that lift, and if someone hadn’t banged on the door and rescued them, who knows what might have happened? Then again, maybe Lara was horrified that they might have had sex in the middle of the working day at their place of employment.
Thinking of it in those terms, Flynn was also horrified – though probably not as much as he ought to be.
‘Hmm. Oh, I also saw someone we both know in town. You didn’t happen to bump into Molly, the waitress from the café, did you?’
‘Molly?’ Flynn was hamstrung for a moment. It seemed an odd but very specific question. ‘As a matter of fact, I did. She’d been to a kids’ party at the soft play centre and was at the market waiting for her friend. Why do you ask?’
‘I only wondered.’ Once again, Flynn thought how beautiful her green eyes were. ‘Well, I’m glad you found time for a break and to sample the delights of Keswick.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘I was on my way to see Fiona about the Twelfth Night Ball. We talked about it – the other day.’
‘In the lift,’ he said, partly because Lara obviously wasn’t going to allude to the incident and partly because he felt wicked.
‘Yes,’ she said haughtily, then her tone softened. ‘You will be there, won’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t miss it,’ he said, picturing Lara in a little black dress with her hair piled on her head and him slow dancing with her. It seemed like the kind of old-fashioned affair where people would do that and, if so, he was all for it.
‘Good, because I’m not sure I mentioned that it was fancy dress.’
‘What?’ He swore softly and Lara bit back a giggle – or was it a snigger – and Flynn shook his head while giving her a wry grin. ‘Ah, you’re winding me up, aren’t you?’
‘Not at all. Everyone joins in. It’s great fun. Even the people who hate fancy dress seem to enjoy it. They did last year, anyway.’
He sighed deeply. ‘The last time I wore a costume was at primary school. I was a king in the nativity play.’
‘You could do the same for the ball. The theme is historical costume.’
Flynn made a spluttering noise that caused Lara to dissolve into laughter. It gave him great pleasure to hear her laughing, despite his horror at the prospect of dressing up. If his discomfort was the price of seeing her relaxed, it was almost worth it.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘Can’t I come as a grumpy biker?’
‘No. Sorry.’
‘Grumpy electrician, then?’
‘Would anyone notice the difference?’
He feigned hurt. ‘That’s a bit harsh.’
Lara rolled her eyes good-humouredly. ‘Well, give it some thought, because the staff and locals tend to reserve their costumes months in advance and there’s only two fancy-dress hire shops within a thirty-mile radius. And the ball is less than five weeks away. It rolls up at an alarming rate.’
‘Oh f—f—that’s not very long.’
‘No. Look, as you’re new and I appreciate the ball has kind of landed on you, I could help, if you like. We keep a few costumes for the guides on re-enactment days. You could borrow one of those if there’s something you like and it fits you?’
‘There won’t be anything I like,’ Flynn said. ‘I can’t see myself in a harlequin outfit with jingly balls on my hat, can you?’
Lara put her hand over mouth, clearly trying to stifle her giggles. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I think you could pull it off.’
‘Ha ha.’
‘There’s a limited choice, but still a choice. If you can spare the time in the next couple of days, I can show you and you could try a few on?’
‘Great,’ Flynn muttered. ‘I mean, thanks. I think. I’m very grateful.’
‘You sound it,’ Lara said, narrowing her eyes. ‘It’s not compulsory.’
‘No, I mean, I am genuinely grateful. And, yes, I would like to try some on, as long as I don’t have to wear anything with one of those things.’
She frowned. ‘What things?’
‘Those things that Henry the bloody Eighth stuffed down his breeches.’ He screwed up his nose. ‘A codpiece.’
Lara squeaked with mirth and Flynn heaved a sigh. ‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’
With a saintly expression, she held up her hands. ‘No, not at all. And for your information, I think we have gentlemen’s costumes that don’t require a codpiece.’
‘Thank God for that. I’d never live it down if the apprentices saw me in a codpiece.’
‘I don’t think I’d ever recover either,’ said Lara, adding, ‘Byeeee! See you soon!’ before flitting off through the door to the great hall, spluttering with laughter.
Flynn had the feeling she would be giggling about him for the rest of the day.
Even as he lingered, trying to work out their puzzling conversation, he found himself smiling too. Their flirting – if you could call it that – had brought a flush to her face that accentuated the emerald of her eyes.
Yet she had been so wary when she’d first bumped into him, quizzing him about his evening in Keswick as if she was trying to catch him out – though God knows why.
Still, the encounter had ended far more promisingly than it had begun and he’d gladly make a prat of himself in a stupid costume if it made her happy.