‘Going to let Roman be upstairs,’ she said. ‘But, please, if there’s anything that needs doing, I’d really like to help out. I’ve waitressed—I can carry heaped trays without droppinghors d’oeuvres.’
Linda laughed. ‘This is Roman’s home and you’rehisguest. But it would be an honour for me if you came along tonight as our guest.’
‘No, I don’t want to intrude.’ Neither upstairs in the private wing nor down here at the ball. ‘I just wanted to...’
Linda’s expression softened. ‘Don’t worry, its not a “table settings” sort of night. It’s a “stand and nibble, drink then dance” kind of night. There are so many people coming, one more guest won’t be noticed. It’ll be marvellous.’
Violet was tempted. Really tempted. And she’d rather feel slightly awkward down here with a group of strangers than really awkward upstairs avoiding Roman, who wanted nothing more than to be alone. ‘Maybe I could just help out the back?’ she asked one last time. ‘Or is that too awkward?’
‘You don’t want to come to the ball?’ Linda looked disbelieving, but then her gaze dropped to her jeans. ‘You didn’t have much luggage with you.’
‘No.’ She felt so awkward right now. She just had that little overnight bag that Roman had scoffed at.
‘Some of my daughter’s clothes are stored in the cottage attic. She’s taller than you, but we might find something that’ll fit if you don’t have anything formal to wear.’
And now the temptation was too much to stand. ‘Are you sure?’
Linda was the kind of person for whom nothing was a problem. Who wanted to make things nice. Violet knew the sort and could appreciate her.
‘I always need help with tying bows on the bannisters. They tend to go wonky on me.’
‘I can do ribbon.’ Violet squared her shoulders. ‘And I would love to come tonight. Thank you.’
Linda smiled. ‘Then go and settle your things upstairs and come down when you’re ready. We’ll have plenty of time to sort the ribbons and fix up a dress.’
Violet turned to where Roman was still talking on his phone. But his gaze was locked on her.
‘Okay?’ Roman asked curiously once he’d finished the call. ‘I see you’ve hit it off with Linda. You get on with everyone instantly, don’t you?’
‘Not true.’ She followed him up the wide staircase, marvelling at the wood panelling and the high vaulted ceiling. ‘But I did ask her if I could help her out this evening.’
‘You want to attend?’ Roman paused on the step above hers and looked back at her. ‘I thought you didn’t like perfect Christmases. There’ll be decorations and amazing food and well-dressed people. You could just stay up...’ He cleared his throat. ‘There’s a den up here with satellite TV...’ He trailed off awkwardly.
‘You might want to just zone out in front of it.’ She kept climbing up the stairs past him. She would stay out of his way. ‘I’d like to go. It’s not going to be one of my usual claustrophobic family Christmases with everyone on eggshells, hoping everyone else is having the Best Time Ever. I can help out in the background and observe a fancy party on my first winter Christmas. That way, you get your space and I get to experience something new.’
Roman was silent as he led her into the large private wing on the first floor. He couldn’t quite cope with being back here. He’d forgotten about the ball when he’d made the plan to fly to the lodge. He’d just wanted to get off the train to ensure he got more space from Violet at night-time because the dreams weren’t easing. Because it was Christmas Eve and he needed to be alone. But there was the ball, and he’d not just forgotten that, but how this place looked at Christmas. It had been so, so long.
But it was almost exactly as he’d remembered. So many memories assailed him. The scent of the fir, of the candles. The spices in thegluhweinthat Linda always made. Linda, who opened the house up to let people celebrate. Who kept all his grandmother’s traditions alive. And starry-eyed Violet was now standing beside him. Her appreciation of the place—the snow, the festive settings—made something thaw inside. It hurt as he saw it all as if for the first time. Like Violet was doing. Only it wasn’t the first time for him. And it meant so much.
‘This room is amazing.’ Violet gazed up at the cathedral-like ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned two walls, giving a view of the mountains in the distance. It faced away from the nearby village—only snowy mountains, trees and sky stretched for miles. It was utterly private.
Violet turned from the view outside to the few framed pictures on the wall.
‘Your family?’ she asked, then stopped by one photo. ‘You?’
He was wearing a hand-knitted beanie. It had been a gift from his grandmother.
‘And that’s you on the train? As a child?’
‘It was my grandfather’s crazy dream to restore it. It’s one of the few private trains in the country and only runs a few routes each year. Usually for charity.’
‘Crazy dream? Did they want to recreate the halcyon days of train travel?’ she said.
‘I guess. Maybe. Yeah.’ He suddenly smiled. ‘He and my grandmother Joan travelled on it together. He oversaw the refurbishment. She chose the coverings.’
‘They made it extremely beautiful,’ she said. ‘They were romantics. And it’s romantic of you to keep that dream alive for them both.’
He couldn’t resist her. He inhaled the effervescence she exuded and her breathless, wide-eyed chatter, the way she made friends in moments... He leaned closer to her and the discomfort eased. He always felt better when he stood a few inches too close to her to be polite. Oh, the irony that, the second he’d got them to a place where they could actually be apart, he couldn’t bear to be more than an inch from her.