Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CLAIRE
The hostess led Claire and Harry to a round table smack dab in the center of the restaurant. Every head turned and watched until they were seated. The old man couldn’t help but laugh.
“I bet you get way more of this here in England than you ever did back home.”
“I definitely get more looks, but no one ever stops me for an autograph. Brits are much cooler when it comes to celebrity encounters. It’s more a casual nod of recognition.”
“Maybe the restaurant will comp our meal tonight—like that one time in Vegas.”
“Dad, no. I still have guilt about that night. I’m not pretending to be Kate Winslet ever again. It’s completely unethical.”
“But deliciously fun. That couple at the table next to us was so starstruck—even with your terrible British accent.”
Claire shook her head. “We’re not doing that again. It’s wrong. And while we’re on the subject… a few ground rules for tonight. No embarrassing stories from my youth. No gratuitous bragging on my accomplishments. No asking about his finances.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” Harry feigned a look of surprise.
“Precisely.” She gave a firm nod.
“Is that our man there?”
Claire followed her father’s gaze to the front of the restaurant.
Heat filled her cheeks the moment she zeroed in on Jay, standing near the crowded hostess stand.
He must have come straight from the train station, a small rolling suitcase by his side.
She watched him interact with the hostess, who took the wheeled bag in one hand and pointed across the main dining room toward her.
The second his eyes locked on her, his face lit up.
Claire stood and waved him over, her face filled with an equally happy expression. Jay walked toward her, his pace quick.
"I'm so sorry. The trains were running behind schedule," Jay whispered as they exchanged a short but warm embrace.
"You're not late. We just sat down." She turned toward her father. "Dad, this is Jay Avery."
"Nice to meet you, sir." Jay extended his hand.
"The pleasure is all mine." Harry stood and they shook.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting," Jay added, taking his seat.
"Nonsense. We’ve been here less than two minutes. They haven't even brought our menus yet," Harry said with reassurance.
"Well, I can't thank you enough for the invitation. I've been looking forward to this all day."
"Did you wrap up all your affairs?" Claire asked.
"Done and done." He gave her a smile—the kind that assured his full, undivided attention.
Small talk gave way to easy conversation, and by the time their meals hit the table, they were laughing together like lifelong friends.
Claire’s cheeks hurt before she had even made a dent in her food.
Harry was in rare form, delivering what Claire considered his greatest hits: stories about youthful mischief, drunken escapades with Hamish, and humiliating tales from her childhood.
No matter how many times she heard them, she never tired of watching her father work a room.
He played ringmaster, lion tamer, and clown all at once.
Somehow, the hours slipped by unnoticed.
By the time they looked around, the restaurant had emptied, leaving them alone with a waitstaff of six eager to finally call it a night.
"Claire tells me you're quite a movie buff," Harry commented as the last of their dishes were cleared.
"Guilty." Jay shot Claire a knowing look.
"Says you're pretty good with a quote or two."
Jay nodded. “I do like Hollywood trivia."
"Well, let's see if you know this one." Harry cleared his throat and glanced in Claire's direction. She shot him a stern look, a warning to tread lightly. "My son's my son until he gets him a wife, but my daughter's my daughter all of her life."
Claire dropped her head for a moment, her face flushed with embarrassment. Harry poked her hand and smiled, so proud of his clever contribution to their game. Silence enveloped the threesome as Jay stared off in quiet reflection.
"I think you got me, sir,” Jay said. “It sounds familiar, but I honestly have no idea."
"Nineteen fifty. Spencer Tracy. Father of the Bride." Harry winked at Claire as he brought his martini glass up to his lips.
The ride out to Hamish's estate was anything but quiet. Harry offered to hire a car and driver for the weekend, but Jay refused. Instead, he rented a gorgeous sedan and chauffeured Claire and her father himself. The previous night hadn’t ended until after one o’clock.
The three of them had sat around Claire’s flat swapping stories after they left the restaurant.
It had been one of the best nights Claire had enjoyed in recent memory, and she hated to see it end.
Once again, she and Jay shared only a warm embrace outside her door.
She wondered whether his resolve was as fragile as hers.
Saying goodnight grew harder every time.
Hamish and Molly were waiting outside to greet them.
Tears formed in Claire’s eyes as she watched her father and uncle wrap their arms around one another.
Their reunion had been a long time coming.
Hamish welcomed Jay with a hearty handshake.
Molly, with a tight hug. Hamish sorted everyone into their respective bedrooms, with strict instructions to quickly get settled and back out to the patio for lunch.
They dined, while a host of workers swarmed around them in preparation for the party.
Two white tents were erected. Tiny lights draped the branches of every tree in view.
Tables were delivered and chairs were placed.
Caterers, florists, and the sound check guys from the band moved in and out of focus as the party of five sat making Bloody Mary toasts amid the flurry of activity.
Hamish and Harry's voices grew louder and louder as each tried to one-up the other with a collection of tall tales.
Their audience howled, eliciting several curious looks from the hired staff.
“Wait a minute. It was three," Hamish insisted.
"No, it wasn't, Ham. It was one. One." Harry held up a bony finger. "Don't forget you'd been drinking Singapore Slings all day. Your vision was slightly impaired to say the least.”
"Let's split the difference and call it two then," Hamish suggested, giving Molly a playful squeeze.
And so, it continued for another hour, until Molly stood and announced her need to tackle party details. Claire offered to help but Molly refused.
“You and Jay are guests, and I want you to behave as such,” she demanded.
Harry stood with the aid of a cane and yawned. Hamish followed, both opting to catch forty winks apiece to ensure tip-top condition for the evening's events. Everyone jumped ship in a matter of seconds, leaving Claire and Jay alone.
"Was it something I said?" Jay asked.
"I think we've been ditched,” Claire answered.
"Listen, maybe we should lie down for a while. We were up late last night."
"I'm honestly not the least bit tired,” Claire said. “Are you?"
"Not really. I'm only a six-hour a night kind of guy anyway."
"Well, Hamish's place here is like a carnival. There's horseback riding. Canoeing on the river. He's got a fabulous library, and an enormous home theater. He even has a two-lane bowling alley, if you're interested."
"You know what I'd really like to do?"
"What?" she asked.
"Take a walk,” Jay said. “Just breathe in some of this fantastically clean, country air."
Claire stood and smiled. "That sounds like a great idea."
They returned to the house and left each other at the top of the grand staircase, Claire turning left while Jay made a right.
Inside her suite, she quickly changed out of her dress and into something more suitable for traveling the landscape.
She'd just pulled on a pair of hiking boots someone knocked softly on the door.
"Come in," she called.
Molly peeked her head inside. "Everything okay?"
"Fine."
"Are you alone?" She threw her gaze toward the en suite bath.
"Yes," Claire confirmed.
"Damn!" Molly entered and closed the door, joining Claire on the bed.
"Is this gonna take long?” Claire asked. “We're going for a walk."
"You have no idea, do you?" Molly asked with a smirk.
"About what?"
"If you could just step back and see what I see."
"Step back and see what?" Claire asked.
"He's crazy about you. My God!"
Claire rolled her eyes. "Oh Molly, quit being so dramatic."
"The man cannot keep his eyes off you. He’s smitten. Smitten, I tell—"
A knock interrupted Molly. Claire hopped off the bed and made fast steps to the door.
"Ready?" Jay asked.
Claire turned back around, shooting Molly an annoyed look. "That depends."
"I'm leaving." Molly stood and quickly brushed past them, giving Claire a pinch on the elbow as she slipped by.
Jay shrugged. "Again, was it something I said?"
They set off along a network of trails Claire knew like the back of her hand.
She and Molly had spent years exploring the sprawling woods surrounding Hamish’s estate, a place that looked as though someone had lifted it straight from the pages of a period novel.
If Jay had worn a ruffled shirt and riding breeches, Claire might have believed she was strolling beside her very own Mr. Darcy.
"Fitzwilliam," she said aloud without thinking.
"Fitz-who?" Jay asked.
"What?” Her cheeks burned. “Oh, sorry, never mind.”
"Some chap you used to roam these woods with once upon a time?" he asked, his tone a touch snarky.
"Not exactly. He's a character from a book. I was just thinking—"
"About Mr. Darcy?"
"Very good, Mr. Avery," she replied, impressed and a little surprised.
"I read more than scientific journals, you know."
They continued along the trail while Claire pointed out the different flora growing across the estate.
In the hour since leaving the house, they had covered a great deal of ground.
Clouds had rolled in during that time, casting a menacing shadow across the sky.
In the distance, Jay spotted two buildings.
He pointed. "What's over there?"
"That was a church at one time. It's probably over three hundred years old. It caught fire way back when. There's nothing to it really. It's just a shell."
"What's the other place?" he asked.
"That's the vicarage."
"Did it burn?"
"No, it's still very much intact." Claire strained her eyes in the direction of the small house.
"Hamish once dared us to spend the night out here when we were girls.
We must have been about ten. We spent an entire day cleaning the place up.
He brought down beds from the main house.
Food. Candles. The works. It wasn't dark for ten minutes before we got scared and high-tailed it out. "
"You have a lot of fond memories of this place, don't you?" Jay asked.
A wistful sigh escaped her. "This place was like a magic kingdom to me. After my mother died, I spent part of every summer here until my college days. Molly too. Our own private summer camp."
"The ideal escape?"
"It wasn't always ideal, but it was certainly an escape." She kicked a rock with the toe of her boot. "I could run and hide and pretend my life was perfect."
He moved behind her and rested his hands comfortingly on her shoulders."You don't have to run and hide anymore."
His tender words stole her breath. The quiet understanding in his voice made him seem stronger and more masculine than any display of bravado ever could.
"There's something else I'd like to show you—my secret hideaway," she said.
They continued along the property line, the terrain much more rugged. Hand in hand, they climbed a small rocky incline. At the top, she pointed to another building in the distance. It sat high on a hill about one hundred yards away, and she smiled instantly upon sight of it.
"The secret hideaway?" he asked, slightly out of breath.
"That's it. I haven't been up here in years. It looks so much smaller than I remember."
"Well, let's see just how small it is," Jay suggested, taking her hand once more.
They headed toward Claire’s childhood sanctuary just as the first drops of rain began to threaten their outing.
Ignoring the weather, they kept walking hand in hand at an easy pace.
Claire shared more silly stories about the adventures she and Molly had once dreamed up, and she and Jay laughed together.
But the rain intensified with every step.
They quickened their pace as the conversation faded.
Claire considered turning back, but the main house sat at least a mile away, and the rain only came down harder.
Soon, the storm pelted them without mercy.
A second later, they both broke into a sprint toward the waiting shelter perched atop the quiet hill.
She followed him across a mass of undergrowth to the cracked concrete stairs leading to Gosshawk Pointe—a small, Greek-styled structure that served as a hidden observatory overlooking the entire estate.
By the time they made it inside, they were drenched from head to toe.
Water ran across her eyelids and down her cheeks.
She blinked and ran her fingers through her hair.
He caught her hand and gently pulled it away.
"Wait. Don't. Don't touch it." He tucked a wet strand behind her ear. "You look beautiful."
"Jay, there’s something I—" she started.
He brushed a raindrop from her cheek before letting his thumb linger at her lips.
As he gently traced them, the distance between their bodies disappeared.
Suddenly, she was back on that green velvet sofa.
She leaned into him, feeling the softness of his lips for the first time in far too long.
When his hands slipped through the rain-soaked strands of her hair, a quiet moan escaped her, and she pulled him as close as she could.
After a minute, she reluctantly pulled away so she could see his eyes. He smiled sweetly, and she reached up to brush tiny droplets of rain from his beard. Then she returned his smile and locked her arms tightly around his neck. Her fingers combed his thick hair, much darker in its damp state.
"May I ask you a question?" she asked.
"Of course."
"You've had every opportunity to kiss me like that. Why did you wait until now?"
"I was waiting on Mother Nature." He touched her cheek again. “A kiss in the rain is required… for all us die-hard romantics."