All We Want for Christmas

All We Want for Christmas

By Phillipa Ashley

Chapter One

Lara gazed up at the fells in sheer amazement. The first snow of the Lakeland winter had arrived at Ravendale Castle, dusting the trees with icing sugar and adding snowy hats to the statues in the gardens.

She crunched across the cobbled courtyard that led to the front of the castle. Here the view was even more spectacular, with white-robed mountain peaks soaring into a sky of washed-out winter blue.

It was a scene of perfection, and, if Lara had her way, snow would always fall exactly like this: just enough to look pretty without causing any disruption. However, as she was painfully aware, the weather in this remote part of the Lakes had never run to plan – rather like her life.

At least today the snow had made its entrance with perfect timing for the Christmas at the Castle tour that would mark the start of the festive events programme at Ravendale.

The previous autumn, Lara had landed her dream job as manager of this medieval castle tucked away in a remote corner of the Lake District, and it had been her idea to run the tours, offer festive afternoon teas, and create a Christmas-tree tour through the castle’s principal rooms. The highlight of the events programme would be the Winter Spectacular, a fantastic light trail that would illuminate the grounds and hopefully draw in thousands of visitors.

Her fingers were firmly crossed, however, because the previous month a major glitch had threatened to derail their plans.

Gerald, the well-loved castle maintenance manager, had gone on long-term sick leave and there was no sign of him returning – in fact, rumours had started to circulate that he might retire, though nothing official had been announced yet.

His absence had been sorely felt and meant that Lara had taken on the job of liaising with the illuminations contractors directly. On top of all her other duties as curator and events manager, it had been a big strain. Her history degree hardly qualified her as an electrical expert.

With a deep breath, she let her eyes rest on the snowy fells again, the view calming her as always, just as it had when she’d first arrived at Ravendale a year ago, nursing a broken heart and a loss that had been hard to bear.

She reminded herself that the light trail would happen, even if she had to give up sleep or meals for the next two weeks. And she wasn’t totally alone: Ravendale had a team of enthusiastic staff and dedicated volunteers who had become her friends.

As the working day swung into action, they began to appear, pushing trolleys of supplies and equipment from the car park into the grounds.

Dull clangs rang out from the rear of the castle where the contractors had arrived to start installing the lighting infrastructure.

A laundry van arrived with linen for the banqueting hall and café, and the local postie jogged up the stone steps to the oak door and handed over several parcels to the housekeeper.

Lara felt an electric thrill of hope and excitement run through her: Christmas had finally started at Ravendale. Surely this one – her second in the job – had to be a huge improvement on the last, which she’d spent hiding her sorrows behind a professional smile.

She was about to walk up the steps to the castle when she became aware of a new sound, one that sent a different kind of thrill through her, far more powerful than anything that work could inspire.

It was the distant roar of a motorbike. Nothing unusual there: the twisting road that hugged the Cumbrian coast was a magnet for bikers looking for a spectacular route.

However, this was a working winter morning in November, and no summer bank holiday.

It must be someone on their way to work …

Even so, Lara found her feet rooted to the spot as the whine of the bike changed tone.

It had become louder and lower, indicating that the bike had slowed to negotiate the sharp steep bend that led down to the entrance to the castle.

Then the engine sputtered and the motorbike came into view, gliding down the gravel driveway, leaving a trail in the snow. And somehow she knew, even though he was the last person she’d ever expected to see again, that its rider was Flynn Cafferty.

He killed the engine, kicked the stand down and lifted his long leather-clad limbs off the Harley.

Her pulse rate galloped like a runaway stallion. Surely he wouldn’t look like she remembered? Not the man who’d filled her dreams and fantasies for the past two weeks before riding off into a dark November morning.

He took off his helmet and pushed his thick black hair off his forehead. His smile was warm enough to thaw an icy lake and turn her limbs to butter. In answer to her own question, he was even better than she remembered. She shivered, though Flynn seemed unruffled.

‘Morning,’ he said, looking her up and down in amusement. ‘I must say this is rather nice. I hadn’t expected a personal welcome party.’

Still stunned by his appearing out of the blue, it took Lara a few seconds to reply.

‘This isn’t a welcome party,’ she squeaked.

‘I mean – um, of course you are welcome, but I – um – wasn’t expecting you.

Are you visiting in the area?’ she managed, remembering that he had once been a guest at the castle, even if that one night had turned him into more in some of her wilder dreams.

He’d booked into the Haunted Halloween Sleepover and they’d ended up working together to deal with a power cut – and got trapped in the castle dungeons together for a while.

Nothing physical had actually happened – although she’d wanted it to – and being stuck in close proximity to Flynn wasn’t something you forgot in a hurry – or ever.

His handsome brow creased. ‘In the area? No … Hasn’t anyone told you?’

‘Told me what?’ she asked, her confusion growing.

‘That I’ve accepted a job here. I’m your new technical manager.’

‘You? Our new technical manager? That’s not possible,’ she said, her shock and disbelief overriding her politeness.

‘I mean, I don’t see how it can be possible.

Fiona and Henry haven’t said a word about a new person being appointed yet,’ she added.

The aristocratic couple whose ancestors had owned Ravendale for centuries usually kept her well informed about anything that affected her role.

‘Ouch. That’s awkward. Fiona and Henry assured me that they’d warn you before I arrived.

Gerald has decided to retire and I’ve been asked to take over as head of the maintenance team and I’m going to be in charge of the light trail.

’ He softened his tone. ‘Fiona did say you were desperate for the help …’

‘I – I mean, we, are – but everything’s happened so fast. I didn’t know you were even looking for a job. I thought you were going biking across Asia.’ The last time she’d seen him, Flynn had told her his plans once he was finished with his work contract at the Cornish theme park.

‘I was …’ His dark blue eyes sparkled and Lara’s stomach did a double flip. ‘But this opportunity was too good to resist.’

Under that enigmatic gaze, Lara found it difficult to frame a coherent reply.

Flynn had once again ruffled her outwardly calm and collected persona.

‘I … I must speak to Fiona and Henry. I’m sure they meant to tell me, but everyone’s been rushed off their feet with the light trail and the new events programme starting.

’ She needed to get hold of her employers at the first opportunity.

‘I’m sorry, I’ve rocked up with no warning. No wonder you look so shocked.’

‘No. No, don’t worry …’ Lara smiled, recalling that Flynn was now her colleague and she had to be professional.

She was determined to regain control of the situation.

After all, she was the one who’d been castle manager for the past year.

Flynn was the new boy, even though he seemed perfectly at home already. ‘I’m sure it’s just an oversight.’

‘Lara!’

One of the castle guides jogged across the gravel towards them. The tip of her nose was bright red and she was out of breath. ‘Y-your t-tour party has started to arrive. I said you’d m-meet them in the great hall in a moment.’

‘Thanks,’ Lara said, recovering herself. ‘Please tell them I’m on my way.’ She left Flynn to unload his bike, hurrying through the melting snow and into the castle, trying to tame a maelstrom of emotions.

It had been barely two weeks since Halloween, when Flynn had made a dramatic entrance in a storm, arriving late and walking into the banqueting hall in his leathers.

Sparks had flown between them that had nothing to do with the power failure that had plunged them into darkness.

However, despite their instant connection, Flynn had ridden off back to his home in Cornwall the following day and Lara had expected to never see him again.

Since that chilly morning, she’d convinced herself it was for the best. Even so, Flynn was the only man she’d imagined falling for since the break-up that had led to her own move to Ravendale.

After the heartbreak of the split, she’d vowed to never get involved in a workplace romance again. Now, Flynn’s reappearance – and as a colleague who she’d be living and working alongside at that – had threatened to derail her all over again.

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