Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 28

Dee had wanted to get a chance to talk to Freya alone, before Christian arrived. She wanted to ask her daughter all the questions which had been plaguing her. Wanted to find out how Freya felt about her husband, about the life she had chosen, without the man there to colour her answers. Because Dee was more convinced than ever, now Henry had gone, that she needed the truth.

A crazy thought had crossed her mind, a scenario in which all her children were back at Kirkshield, living with her again. It might cost her relationship with Robbie, and although Dee knew it wouldn’t be healthy for her fully grown children – and probably not for her, either – that particular fairy tale replayed itself inside her mind.

But in the time she’d been at Kirkshield, Freya had been so busy with the boys that they’d had barely enough time to grab a cup of coffee together, let alone have time for a proper talk. And they were plummeting headfirst towards Christmas, which also meant Freya, Olivia and Candida had disappeared off shopping, leaving ‘Gramma’, as Karl called her, to look after the boys.

Freya still hadn’t returned by the time Christian arrived. Sebastian was caught up with paperwork and Jess was out visiting her aunt, so Dee hauled open the castle’s main door to welcome him.

There had always been something about Christian which left Dee uneasy. Perhaps it was nothing more than his strikingly upright posture, which made a tall man seem even more unapproachable. Or maybe, even though he spoke excellent English, it was his halting pronunciation, his heavy Austrian accent. Either way, Dee had always found him austere. He was not a man to smile easily.

Although that shouldn’t be something which fazed her – Henry’s smiles had been incredibly hard-won. Dee just didn’t want her daughter to have fallen into the same trap she had done, thirty years previously.

‘Welcome back to Kirkshield, Christian,’ she said, doing her best to apply her brightest smile as she glanced outside. ‘Looks like you’ve brought some seasonal weather with you.’

The snow was falling again, settling well on the cold ground.

‘We have already more at home,’ he said, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. ‘You are looking very well, Dee.’

Background noise heralded the arrival of Freddie and Karl, who pounded down the picture gallery and across the hall to throw themselves at their father.

Dee couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed them both by their waists and lifted them into the air.

‘I trust my sons are behaving themselves?’ Christian asked.

‘We’re not sons any longer,’ Freddie said. ‘We’re ghosts. Uncle Sebastian says the castle doesn’t have any, so we’re pretending.’

‘’Tending,’ Karl added.

‘That’s what I said, idiot.’ Freddie grabbed at Karl’s sleeve.

‘Now, now. Enough of this.’ Christian set them down. ‘What kind of ghosts are you being?’

‘I’m the one that leaves green goo everywhere,’ Freddie said, blowing a raspberry as he pretended to cover the hallway in ectoplasm.

‘Me too,’ Karl said, misinterpreting Freddie’s actions and managing to blow his nose, trails of his own ectoplasm running down his face.

‘Yuk. Karl did a bogey, Daddy.’

In those few moments, as Dee watched Christian search his pockets for a handkerchief, then deal with Karl’s nose, she was at least reassured about her grandsons’ relationship with their father. She took a deep breath, becoming aware of the extent of the unease she’d been carrying as it began to loosen its grip on her. The last time Freya’s whole family had been at Kirkshield had been two years ago, at which point they’d been accompanied by a nanny to help with the children. A pretty, young, Austrian woman with little English and therefore an overwhelming need to converse with Christian rather than anyone else. Ever since then, Dee had worried that Freya was suffering the same fate she had done.

‘Come with us,’ Freddie said, grabbing at his father’s hand. ‘Come and be a big ghost.’

‘Scare Uncle Sebabian,’ Karl added.

Christian glanced at Dee, raising his eyebrows as he said, ‘Do you mind? I don’t get to spend enough time with my sons.’

‘Please do, have fun. I’ll arrange for some tea in the drawing room. We can catch up properly then.’

When Jess delivered tea into the drawing room a while later, she had to stifle a laugh at the haphazard decorations on the tree. Every time she saw it, the tree looked more and more as though it hadn’t wanted to be adorned and had done its best to shake off the decorations, like a wet dog. Freddie and Karl’s handiwork, she’d assumed. It was nice that they’d allowed the children to decorate it, even if the result was … interesting.

She set down the tray, laid out the cups and saucers, then heard the elephantine gallop of children’s footsteps in the picture gallery. The thundering continued and the boys burst into the room, grinding to an inelegant halt as they caught sight of her. If only she had the same powers of control over the grown-up family members …

‘Hi there,’ she said to the children, earning herself two identical frowns, four suspicious eyes tracking her as she moved to add a log to the fire. ‘Do either of you like shortbread?’

‘Me. I like it.’

The smaller of the pair – Karl, Jess assumed – earned an elbow in the ribs for his admission, and the stand-off continued.

‘OK. Well, I have a huge tin of shortbread in the kitchen. I was going to say I’d share some of it with you, but if you’re not interested …’ Jess made for the door. ‘It’s a shame, really, it’s the best shortbread I’ve ever tasted. Ah, well, if you’re not hungry …’

Karl rubbed at his belly. ‘I am quite hungry.’

Freddie took his brother’s hand. ‘I’ll look after you,’ he said.

They crossed paths with Freya, back from her shopping trip, and Christian in the doorway.

‘I’m taking the boys for some shortbread,’ Jess said. ‘Thought you might like a bit of a breather.’

‘Thank you,’ Freya said, briefly resting a hand on Jess’s arm. ‘You’re a superstar.’

With both boys seated at the kitchen table, their fussing over Digby complete and a plastic tumbler of milk and piece of shortbread in front of each of them, they finally began to loosen up.

‘Jess, why was six scared of seven?’ Freddie said.

‘Because six, seven, eight,’ Karl piped up.

‘No, Karl. Shut up and let Jess guess.’ Freddie broke away from the joke to burst out laughing. ‘Jess-guess. It rhymes. You’re a poem, Jess.’

Jess pretended to think for a few moments, then shook her head. ‘No idea. Why was six scared of seven?’

‘Because seven ate nine.’ Freddie pumped the air in victory, then frowned. ‘Do you get it? Seven, eight, nine are the numbers but it sounds like he ate the number nine. Ate. Eight. Get it?’

‘Yes, Freddie. I get it. Very good.’ Jess smiled. ‘Are you enjoying being at the castle?’

Freddie considered the question. ‘There aren’t any ghosts, so that’s boring.’

‘Are there ghosts at your house?’

‘No, silly. We live in Austria.’ Unfazed by his non sequitur, Freddie took a slurp of milk, then said, ‘Did you know there are more Lego minifigures in the world than there are people?’

‘Wow, really?’ Jess nibbled at her shortbread. She’d never considered herself to be particularly good with children, but this was almost fun. Almost.

‘Yes.’ Freddie became serious. ‘Uncle Sebastian sent me a Lego spaceship for my birthday. He said now Karl’s three it’s OK to have Lego. And he said it would be easy for me to build, because it wasn’t rocket salad.’

Jess stifled a laugh. ‘Are you sure he didn’t say rocket science?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said. Rocket science. I love my spaceship.’

‘Uncle Sebabian said we should have a lion tomorrow, too.’ Karl took a mouthful and Jess admired the way he managed to get milk almost all the way up to his hairline, in a neat half-moon across his cheeks.

‘A lion?’ That one had her flummoxed.

Freddie tutted. ‘Not a lion. A lie-in. That’s what he said. To give Mummy and Daddy a rest. He said we have to stay in our room until the first number on the clock is at least a six.’

‘We’d better hope seven doesn’t get hungry again, then,’ Jess said.

Dee wasn’t sure where everyone was, but she had asked Jess to bring tea into the drawing room, so she headed there in hopes of finding someone. From the picture gallery, she could hear logs crackling in the fireplace and the door was ajar enough for her to see the lights were on, but there was an absence of voices.

Pushing the door fully open, Dee wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see, but her youngest daughter in the embrace of her son-in-law hadn’t been on the list. Which, if she stopped to think about it, probably said more about herself than about them.

In the split-second before they became aware of her presence, Dee took in the scene. Bodies pressed more closely together than she’d ever seen Freya and Christian – even on their wedding day. Freya’s arms resting casually on Christian’s shoulders, her eyes closed as he leant in, his hands firm on her waist as he whispered something into her ear.

Tears pricked at the edges of Dee’s eyes, her fingers frozen on the door handle. They looked perfect. It was perfect. Far too perfect a scene to interrupt, except she had. And as they dragged their attentions away from one another, and turned to Dee, her apology seemed woefully inadequate.

‘Don’t be silly, Mummy. We were just chatting,’ Freya said, the serene smile back in place as she slid onto one end of the small sofa, and Dee took the other end. ‘It’s nice to have a few minutes without the boys demanding something from us.’

‘Let me pour you some tea,’ Christian said, formal and upright again as he dealt with the teapot and handed Dee a cup. He turned to Freya, passed her a cup and said, ‘I will take mine, leave you ladies to it and see if I can find Sebastian.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ Freya said, sliding her cup onto one of the tables and turning her full attention onto Dee.

‘I really am sorry for interrupting,’ Dee said.

Freya waved away her concern. ‘I’ve tasked Christian with spending some boy-time with Seb. I think he could do with the moral support.’

Dee raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve been doing my best with your brother.’

‘I didn’t mean you haven’t, but it must be so difficult for him right now. I’m immensely glad he wants to stay, wants to fight for Kirkshield, and that he’s managed to get Liv on side, too. But I thought maybe Christian might be able to offer up some fresh ideas.’ Freya grinned. ‘And anyway, my husband finds you incredibly intimidating, so you’ll have to excuse him running away.’

‘ He finds me intimidating?’

‘Have you never noticed how rigid he gets around you?’

‘He’s not always like that?’ Dee said. ‘I’ve always found him so formal; I suppose I assumed that was his general demeanour.’

Freya tipped back her head and laughed. ‘No. The stick-up-his-backside look is purely for you. Well, it was for you and Daddy, but now you’re in sole ownership of it.’ Her expression sobered. ‘You thought he was always like that?’

Dee reached out, clasping Freya’s hand in hers, her tone suddenly urgent. ‘Tell me you’re happy, Freya. Tell me you love him, and he loves you and everything is well in your world.’

‘Where’s this coming from?’ Freya said, her tone full of concern as she drew closer to Dee.

‘You’ve always been the most difficult one to read,’ Dee said. ‘You’re so calm and quiet and you’re so very good at coping with whatever life throws at you – I’m never sure how you truly feel. And I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.’

Dee had to catch her breath, her words tumbling out in a torrent of concern for her daughter, but with a trickle of self-pity mixed in.

‘I’ve always worried that you married so young just to get away from your father, from Kirkshield – from the toxic environment we managed to create here. It’s always eaten at me, and I should have said something way, way earlier than this.’ She shook her head, biting back tears as she searched Freya’s face for answers.

‘Oh my God,’ Freya slid the rest of the way across the sofa, wrapping her up in a hug. ‘Is that what you thought? I married Christian because I absolutely adore him. Pure and simple.’

‘I loved your father, too. At the start.’ Dee felt the tears start, but didn’t care how they fell as she clung to her grown-up baby. ‘Freya, if you’re ever unhappy, or he’s not … Well, if he’s like your father was in any way, then I insist you bring the boys and live here again. I won’t have you putting up with the things I did. I need you to know that.’

‘Christian is nothing like my father was,’ Freya said, her words slow and deliberate as she pulled away from Dee and took her by the shoulders. ‘I promise you that. And if I ever thought that of him, you would be the very first person I would tell. He knows everything about my childhood and has immense respect for you – that’s why he finds you so intimidating. And I think it’s why he was always so formal with Daddy, because what he really wanted to do was get him up against the wall in a chokehold, and, well, that’s not deemed acceptable in polite society, so …’

Freya’s eyes twinkled and Dee felt the edges of her mouth rising as she stifled a laugh. ‘It would probably have given your father a heart attack, so it’s just as well he didn’t.’

Freya smiled, then looked guilty. ‘It’s not funny, and yet …’ She took a deep breath, reclaiming her end of the sofa but not breaking her gaze. ‘I need you to listen to me very carefully. I have never been as happy as I am right now, so you need to stop worrying about me. And Olivia is free, now, to live her life openly with Candida. Between us, we can try to provide Seb with the support he needs, but I know he’s going to make it all work. And in time I wouldn’t be surprised if he manages to do both.’

‘Both?’

‘Manage Kirkshield and play in an orchestra. It might not be the London Philharmonic, but there are plenty of wonderful orchestras in Scotland. He just needs time to adjust to everything. No, there’s only one person we need to be worrying about. It’s your turn.’

‘My turn?’ Dee blinked and shook her head. ‘I’m completely fine, Freya. No need to worry about me.’

The hitch in one of Freya’s eyebrows had Dee reassessing the tone of her voice. Hadn’t she sounded convincing enough? She tried again. ‘It’s all been a shock, of course, but I’ll bounce back. I always do.’

‘What’s really going on?’ Freya asked, her tone so calm and quiet it nearly broke Dee’s heart, all over again. ‘This isn’t about Daddy, is it?’

Dee shook her head. ‘No. For once it isn’t. You’re right about that.’

Freya pursed her lips. ‘I don’t mean to sound dismissive about him, but now he’s gone you can do anything you want. So, what do you want to do?’

Dee drew in a long breath. ‘I think I want to travel. I want to see all the places Henry wasn’t interested in visiting. I want to find out what it’s like to be independent. I want to be able to be alone, Freya, rather than always feeling lonely.’

‘And where does Robbie fit into all this?’

The question came completely out of left field, and it caught Dee up short. ‘Robbie?’

‘I’m not an idiot, Mummy. I saw the way you two were looking at one another in the fir plantation. There’s something you’re keeping back. I can tell.’

Dee smiled, her lips twisted into the shape but the emotion which should accompany it remaining absent. ‘He told me how he’s carried a torch for me for years.’ She shook her head, Freya’s confused expression mirrored by her own. ‘I know. Crazy, right? I mean, he’s almost ten years younger than me, and he’s so very handsome. He could have his pick of women.’ She swallowed, unsure how to phrase the rest of it. ‘Anyway, I was feeling low and weak, and …’

Freya’s shoulders hitched back, her expression darkening. ‘He took advantage of you?’

‘No, in fact I think it was the other way around. I think I took advantage of him. And it was the first time in years I actually felt special, desired. He made me feel … incredible. But …’

Freya tilted her head, a mannerism which Dee knew meant her daughter was processing information. Then she shook her head. Dee was convinced she knew what Freya was about to say. That she’d done the right thing; that a relationship with a younger man in these circumstances would only end in more tears, and Freya found the whole idea ridiculous. How she should concentrate on healing herself before she ran headlong into something else. Dee felt sure Freya would reinforce all the messages she had been doing her best to convince herself with.

‘You and Robbie …’

‘I know. It’s ridiculous, laughable. I don’t know what I was thinking – it was nothing but a moment of madness.’

‘Was it?’

‘Well, yes. I can only think that’s what everyone will believe. Can you imagine what his mother would say?’

‘You’ve found another human being who makes you feel all the things you deserve and have missed out on – and you’re worrying about what his mother will think?’ Freya did nothing to hide her smile. ‘I agree with you, that is ridiculous.’

Dee frowned. Maybe she had been scraping the bottom of the objections barrel dragging Dorathy Keel into the discussion. ‘So, what do you think, Freya?’

‘I think it doesn’t matter what I think – or Liv or Seb for that matter. I think all that matters is what you and Robbie feel for one another,’ Freya said, her smile broadening.

‘Do you?’ Dee had been so sure her children would find the whole idea ridiculous.

‘Is he as much of a gentleman as I’ve always imagined him to be?’ Freya asked.

Dee struggled to find the right words to adequately describe Robbie; instead her eyes filled with tears all over again and her lips quivered with emotion as she nodded.

‘Well, then, you’ve got an easy decision to make, haven’t you?’ Freya said.