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Edina gave Belle a delighted wink as Tavish knelt and swung her into his arms. She looped an elbow around his neck and let out a soft chuckle.
‘If I’d known it was this easy to get you to visit the castle, Tavish Doherty, I’d have thrown myself in the road a year ago.
Do you think you’ll show me that tattoo now we’re better acquainted?
We both know it’s not the first time I’ve asked.
’ The sturdy old man ignored her and instead began to march along the main road which would lead them left – in the opposite direction to Belle’s house – towards Evergreen Castle.
Belle sighed and grabbed Edina’s handbag, scooping up her bike and the soggy backpack before turning to look at the donkey, who was eyeing her suspiciously.
‘You coming?’ she asked, and the creature let out a loud honk before trotting out from underneath the tree, leaving Belle to bring up the rear.
Belle had lived in Christmas Village for twenty-two years but had never entered the grounds of Evergreen Castle.
She wasn’t a friend of the family and Edina’s husband, Reilly Lachlan, had been a surly curmudgeon who’d abhorred company, so villagers had tended to avoid the castle when he was alive.
As Edina still kept herself to herself, nothing had changed in the five years since he’d died.
For the first time, Belle wondered if the elderly woman was happy spending so much time alone.
As Belle followed Tavish up the long, wide drive flanked with fir trees, she took a moment to scan the grounds, which were covered in a lush layer of thick snow.
In the distance, not too far now, she could see the small castle which had multiple windows dotted across the right side.
Every room was brightly lit and more lights shimmered across the edges of the turret at the far corner of the building, before trailing up and down the high walls.
The donkey let out another loud honk as they got closer to the main building and trotted off into the field to Belle’s left, no doubt seeking shelter in a shed or barn.
When Belle got to the main doorway, which was huge, arched and crafted from oak, she leaned her bike against the outside wall and pushed the door so she could enter the main hall – Tavish had left it ajar when he’d carried Edina inside a few moments before.
Lights glared down from the ceiling, highlighting walls covered in dark panelled oak and lavishly framed paintings of men, women, horses and donkeys that a historian could probably trace back to centuries before.
She swiftly shut the door and patted her arms, wondering if it was colder inside than it had been in the snow, then followed the sound of voices.
She walked past a curved arch that led to a turnpike staircase into an enormous room with a vaulted ceiling, more bright lights and a long oak dining table that could have easily seated all ten children in Belle’s class.
To the right of it, in front of a vast fireplace, was a long leather sofa draped with a tartan blanket, a round footstool and two comfortable-looking high-back chairs.
A large portrait with a gilt frame of a man Belle suspected was Edina’s late husband in his youth glowered at them from above the fireplace.
There were two empty brass candlesticks on the mantelpiece, a framed photo of a dark-haired woman, and another of a man standing in a stark office with his arms folded.
Next to that was one lonely card which seemed to represent the sum total of the Christmas decorations in the castle.
‘Let’s take a look a ye.’ Tavish lifted Edina’s left foot onto the footstool and gently eased off her boot. Iver moved closer to the fireplace and sat on the fluffy rug, staring soulfully into the empty grate.
‘It’s just sore,’ she grumbled, frowning at Tavish. ‘I’m fine, man. Nothing a wee dram and a good night’s sleep won’t put right.’
‘Aye, well I’ll be the judge of that.’ Tavish whipped off his beanie hat, dislodging a torrent of snowflakes, and placed it on one of the high-back chairs, then took off his coat and folded it carefully, before putting it in the same place.
He knelt and gently prodded Edina’s ankle, giving her a knowing glare when she drew in a sharp breath.
‘I suspect a break or fracture.’ He shook his head, frowning accusingly at Belle.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Belle murmured, feeling awful as Edina waved her hand.
‘Not your fault, lassie, I was the one who walked into the road.’
‘I can drive you to the hospital,’ Tavish offered.
‘Not now!’ Edina snapped.
‘Then at dawn,’ Tavish growled, as he searched the room and grabbed a gorgeous handmade appliqué cushion from one of the chairs at the dining table. He placed it under Edina’s leg, his movements surprisingly graceful for such a large man.
‘You can visit in the morning when you drop off my newspaper. Come in for a cup of Scottish Blend.’ Edina sucked in her cheeks when Tavish tried to ease her foot from side to side. ‘You’ll see then this is nothing more than a wee bump.’
Tavish’s thick eyebrows drew together. ‘Aye, well I served as a medic for thirty-plus years in the Royal Regiment of Scotland and I’ll tell ye now, that’s no bump.’
Edina folded her arms but her small frame gave off an air of amusement. ‘I’m sure you’ll have a few bandages and a cane in your wee shop. That’ll be all I need. I dinnae want to go to a hospital.’
Tavish let out a long-suffering sigh as he scanned their surroundings before his attention rested on the grate and empty log holder beside the large fireplace.
Belle was surprised there wasn’t a fire roaring in the centre; it didn’t look as though the castle had any other form of heating and the cavernous room was cold.
‘It’s frigid, lass,’ Tavish said. ‘Where do you keep wood for the fire?’
‘I need to chop some.’ Edina jerked her chin. ‘My gardener usually does it but he’s been away for a couple of weeks and I’ve used it all up – and I’ve nae had time to cut more.’
‘I’ll do it before I go.’ Tavish looked around the stark room, again muttering under his breath about cantankerous old women who didn’t take care of themselves. ‘You can’t stay here by yourself until that ankle’s fixed.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Edina said sharply without looking at him. She tried to move her leg from the stool but winced and lay back on the sofa, clasping her gloved hands in her lap. Belle’s chest tightened with guilt.
‘You need someone here to fetch and carry,’ Tavish said stubbornly.
‘There’s no one to ask.’ Edina’s voice held a tinge of sadness but she jerked her chin again, meeting the old man’s eyes.
‘Um.’ Belle tentatively lifted a hand, feeling like one of the kids from her class.
‘What about your wee girl and grandson?’ Tavish asked. Belle had heard the Lachlans had a daughter, but word was she didn’t live close. She knew nothing about grandchildren – as far as she was aware, Edina had none.
The elderly woman shook her head. ‘Tara’s got her donkey sanctuary in Skye; she’ll nae be free to visit just now and I definitely won’t be worrying her.
And neither will you.’ She fixed Tavish with a stern glare.
‘The laddie has his work in London. I’ll not be bothering him with some sob story about a bruised foot.
I’m a Lachlan, I can take care of myself.
I just need a night to rest and I’ll be grand.
’ Her face crinkled with pain as she tried to lift her foot off the stool.
‘I can look after myself,’ she repeated, but this time the words carried a smatter of uncertainty.
‘Aye?’ Tavish’s mouth tightened as he glared towards the exit.
‘You won’t be able to get up those turnpike stairs, lass, let alone feed yourself or light a fire.
’ He marched into the far corner of the large room and swung one of the doors open, closing it again before opening the door next to it.
‘Aye. There’s a bed in here, it’s a big enough room – we can move your things in now.
’ He nodded at Belle, jerking his head towards the arch that led to the staircase meaningfully.
She nodded and hopped up from the sofa where she’d been perched.