The Christmas Marriage Mission Read online

  But it was no good wishing for the moon.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE twins must have been tired out with all the excitement and anticipation of Christmas Eve, because it was after seven o’clock when Kay’s bedroom door was flung open and two tiny pyjama-clad little figures hurled themselves onto the bed.

  ‘Mummy! It’s Christmas morning!’

  ‘The baby Jesus is born, Mummy.’

  This last exclamation was from Emily, the ever practical Georgia adding, ‘Has Father Christmas been? Has he left our presents?’

  ‘I don’t know, my darlings.’ Kay had slept deeply and dreamlessly and now, as she struggled up in bed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and hugging each little wriggling girl, she added, ‘Shall we go and see what’s under the tree?’

  ‘What a good idea.’

  The deep male voice from the doorway brought the twins bouncing round and Kay hastily pulling the duvet up to her chin. Mitchell was leaning against the door post, his hair ruffled and his face unshaven, and Kay’s heart gave a kick like a mule. He was dressed in a black silk robe and matching pyjama bottoms, and he looked more sexy than any man had the right to first thing in the morning.

  ‘I presume Grandma will want to come and join in the proceedings?’ Mitchell asked Kay, his eyebrows raised. And at her nod, added, ‘Go and get her, girls, but gently, okay? Wake her gently.’

  As the twins scampered past him he ruffled each head of curls and then, to Kay’s horror, came further into the room, walking across to the bed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she yelped weakly.

  ‘Saying good morning.’ He bent and kissed her, hard. ‘Good morning,’ he said softly.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ She hadn’t even brushed her hair or cleaned her teeth, and with the twins and her mother next door…

  Mitchell raised mocking eyebrows. ‘Excuse me, but I was under the impression I live here?’ he said lazily, purposely misunderstanding. ‘Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve seen you in bed. You’ve been here three days.’

  ‘I was ill before.’

  ‘Don’t be so school-marmish,’ he reproved her sternly.

  ‘Mitchell, please.’

  ‘I’m going to have to work on those inhibitions of yours.’ He gave her one last swift kiss on the tip of her nose and walked over to the door, saying, ‘You were more fun when you were ill, tossing and turning quite deliciously at times, I might add. Are you wearing that nightie with the very thin straps that’s almost transparent?’

  ‘You…you peeping Tom!’ She was blushing crimson and furious with herself for doing so.

  ‘Could I help it if you kept throwing off your covers in gay abandon?’ he protested innocently.

  ‘You, you…’

  ‘Get your dressing gown on and make yourself decent, woman. There’s children around.’

  He grinned at her and she glared at him.

  ‘Tut-tut.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Where’s your Christmas spirit, Kay? Goodwill to all men and so on.’ He shut the door on her splutterings but not before he added, ‘And you’d better be quick; Georgia and Emily are raring to go.’

  They all went down together in the end, even Henry joining them on the landing and looking very distinguished in a pair of dark aubergine cotton pyjamas and a striped dressing gown.

  Once the twins had indulged in an orgy of unwrapping, delving into their pillowcases until they were empty, Mitchell nodded to Henry and the older man left the room briefly to return with the most enormous brightly wrapped package.

  ‘This is from Henry and myself, girls,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘Happy Christmas.’

  It was a doll’s house, complete with beautifully fashioned furniture and a little family of dolls right down to a baby in a crib. The twins were ecstatic.

  The adults then exchanged gifts, and Kay was thankful she had bought something for Mitchell, and a little present for Henry, before she’d fallen ill. However, the leather driving gloves and cashmere scarf that Mitchell seemed to receive with genuine pleasure paled into insignificance beside the dainty white-gold and diamond watch he presented her with.

  ‘Oh, Mitchell, it’s beautiful.’ As he fastened it on her wrist she stared down in wonder. She had never thought to own anything so exquisite, but it must have cost a fortune. And gloves and a scarf… ‘But I didn’t get you anything nearly so nice.’

  He shushed her by putting a finger on her lips. ‘I needed new gloves and the scarf is perfect,’ he said softly. ‘You needed a new watch. I noticed your present one was always stopping or told the wrong time.’

  Kay thought it was very nice of him not to mention at this point that her old one also had the gilt flaking off. It had been a quick buy off a market stall the year before but all she could afford at the time, the twins just having needed new shoes and a winter coat each. She looked at him, her eyes enormous. ‘Thank you,’ she said tremblingly, wondering why—after such a marvellous gift—she should want to cry.

  ‘Tea, toast and croissants everyone?’ Henry cut across the moment, suddenly reverting to housekeeper and cook. ‘I’m not going to cook a full English breakfast because I want you to do justice to Christmas dinner, which will be served promptly at one o’clock. And woe betide anyone who says they’re not hungry. No excuses about post-flu appetites either,’ he added warningly.

  ‘Can I come and help you?’

  This was from Leonora, and when Henry said, ‘That would be most welcome, thank you,’ in his old-fashioned way, Kay caught Mitchell staring at his friend in open astonishment.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered when the other two had disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, and only the girls remained, playing contentedly with the doll’s house. ‘Why did you look at Henry like that?’

  Mitchell smiled, a curiously satisfied smile. ‘Because in all my years of knowing Henry he’s never allowed anyone to storm the bastion of his kitchen,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘and I mean no one, full stop.’

  Kay stared at him as the import of his words dawned. ‘You don’t mean…’

  ‘I think Henry rather likes your mother.’ He watched her for a minute, seeing her absorb the idea. ‘Would you mind?’ he asked quietly.

  Would she? It might make things a little difficult when she and Mitchell stopped seeing each other, but if her mother liked Henry and the feeling was reciprocated, that was wonderful. If nothing else it would give her mother an interest beyond that of her own family. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t mind at all.’

  It started to snow again as they were having breakfast, but when Kay said she wanted Emily to wait another day before she went outside to build the snowman the twins didn’t object too much, content to play with all their new toys. Hence the morning was a lazy one of sitting by the roaring fire watching the children play while they listened to carols on the radio, the four adults talking of this and that as the smell of roasting turkey began to permeate the air.

  After Henry served particularly wicked elevenses of coffee laced with Tia Maria and spices and topped with whipped cream, along with a plateful of his delicious home-made shortbread, Kay settled back on the sofa next to Mitchell in a haze of festive well being. She awoke some time later with the embarrassing realisation that she must have dozed off, her head now lodged comfortably on his chest and his arm holding her close as she curled into him.

  She stiffened, raising her head cautiously only to stare into a pair of bright blue eyes. ‘You don’t snore when you’re asleep,’ he said conversationally, ‘but you do make the most enchanting little sniffles now and again, like a small animal making itself more cosy.’

  Kay could feel heat flooding her cheeks and now Mitchell laughed softly, straightening as he said, ‘You’re not the only one who had a nap. Look over there.’ She looked and saw her mother was dead to the world too, stretched out on another sofa with a blanket over her lower half. ‘It’ll do you both good; you still look peaky.’

  Peaky? What did tha
t mean? A mess? Something the cat wouldn’t deign to drag in? ‘Where are the girls?’ she asked, more to change the subject than anything else.

  ‘Helping Henry make a batch of muffins for tea. Apparently he was brought up with muffins for tea on Christmas Day afternoon, and as this Christmas seems to have turned into a family affair…’ He shrugged.

  Did he mind? There had been an inflexion in his voice Kay couldn’t quite fathom. He must have had other plans for Christmas after all. A man like Mitchell Grey didn’t sit at home twiddling his thumbs.

  He had bent to nuzzle her curls with his chin, murmuring almost to himself, ‘You smell wonderful. What is it you’re wearing?’

  ‘Baby powder.’

  ‘Baby powder?’ He leaned back to stare at her. ‘You’re joking.’

  She shook her head. ‘When you carried me off I wasn’t in a fit state to think of perfume or cosmetics,’ she reminded him. ‘The twins had some baby lotion and powder in their toiletries so I’m using that.’

  He shook his head, his eyes bright with laughter. ‘Do you mean to tell me that I’ve spent a fortune over the years on expensive perfume as gifts, and all the time I could have got away with baby powder?’

  She stared at him. It was unintentional—probably—but suddenly she was reminded yet again that he was a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type. She breathed deeply. ‘I don’t think the sort of women you date would appreciate baby powder, Mitchell,’ she said evenly. ‘Do you? I’m a mother; that smell has been second nature to me for years.’

  He wasn’t smiling any longer. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning nothing,’ she said carefully, ‘except that they’re used to Chanel and Gucci, and I’m used to baby powder and off the peg, that’s all. They could be ready to fly off round the world or attend an elegant function at the drop of the hat; I have to make sure my mother can babysit and even then half my mind is on the girls if one of them is poorly or upset about something. Two very different worlds.’

  They both knew what she was saying. ‘Unbridgeable?’ he asked softly.

  No, not unbridgeable. In fact if there was even the prospect he could offer something beyond a brief affair, she would build the bridge herself, brick by brick. She gave a brittle smile. ‘I think so. It’s a case of butterflies and moths, I suppose.’

  ‘You’re not a moth,’ he said roughly, a hardness entering his tone. ‘Not unless you choose to be.’

  ‘My option to choose ended four years ago.’ She eyed him bravely, inwardly shaking and outwardly composed. ‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way. All the Chanel and Gucci in the world couldn’t begin to compare with my children’s smiles. Cartier diamonds are nothing compared to a gaudy plastic ring and bracelet I have at home, things they got from some crackers that they think are wonderful but which they gave to me.’

  He nodded. ‘I can buy that.’

  ‘But you can’t buy it, don’t you see? They give me their unconditional love and trust and I have to do everything I can to make sure their world is not shaken or disturbed,’ she said, deliberately misunderstanding his words. ‘They’re little children, Mitchell. They don’t understand about moving on, and temporary liaisons, and being replaced, and I don’t want them to, not yet. Time enough for all that when they’re grown up and making their own way in the world. They’ll probably experience rejection and loss then. For now stability and a solid foundation is what is important. They’ll make lots of mistakes of their own; they’re bound to. That’s life. But I don’t ever want them to suffer through a mistake I make, no more than they have already by not having a father.’

  There was a vibrating silence for a moment. She hadn’t meant to say that last bit, Kay thought distractedly; in fact she hadn’t even been aware it was there, buried deep in her subconscious. But she had made a mistake in marrying a rat like Perry, and her babies were paying for it in not having a father figure.

  ‘You can’t blame yourself because Perry turned out like he did, Kay,’ Mitchell said at last. ‘Nothing in life comes with a cast-iron guarantee.’

  Her mother was beginning to stir, and now Kay said quickly and dismissively, ‘I know that.’

  ‘Do you? I don’t think so.’

  She couldn’t do this. She really couldn’t do this. In a small voice she said, ‘Can we talk about this some other time?’

  He nodded, lifting her chin, which had drooped, before he murmured, ‘It strikes me we’ve got a lot of talking to do. That wall you built to repel intruders is still steel-clad, isn’t it?’

  The wall she had built? What about the one he’d constructed? She stared at him. ‘You were the one who said we’re two of a kind,’ she reminded him quietly. ‘You’ve done some building work of your own, Mitchell.’

  There was no time to say anything more before the twins returned, flushed and proud from their cooking efforts, and woke Leonora fully. But all through Henry’s delicious Christmas lunch and the afternoon that followed Kay found herself going over what she’d said time and time again until her head was spinning. Had she said too much? Probably. Very probably, she admitted. But it was too late now.

  They had muffins with the twins at five o’clock and it was obvious the two little girls were tired out even then. By six they’d had their bath and were in their pyjamas snuggled down in bed, looking impossibly angelic as Kay kissed them goodnight.

  ‘Where’s Uncle Mitchell?’ Georgia asked sleepily as Kay dimmed the light. ‘Isn’t he going to kiss us goodnight?’

  ‘Not tonight, darling, he’s talking to Grandma and Henry.’ Kay had made it clear—not so much by what she’d said as what she hadn’t—that she intended to settle the children down herself without any help before she had left the drawing room. She had seen Mitchell look at her intently, his eyes searching her face, but he hadn’t objected or attempted to follow her.

  It had only been a few days but already Georgia and Emily were far too fond of Mitchell, Kay told herself as she walked slowly down the stairs to join the others. She had to calm things down, put an emotional brake on the proceedings. She had been so determined to prevent anything but the most fleeting of exchanges between Mitchell and her children in the last two months, and now here they all were actually living in his house! It was ironic in the extreme. But it couldn’t continue. They couldn’t continue.

  The thought hit her hard and she bit her lip. He had been very kind to her, to all of them, and she appreciated it, she did really, but it didn’t alter the facts. She had been crazy to start seeing him in the first place and now suddenly it had mushroomed into a giant tangle. The bottom line was he wanted her in his bed with no involvement other than a sexual one. She knew that, she had always known it, so all this was no one’s fault but hers.

  He had tried to seduce her in a hundred little ways, in fact just being with him was a seduction all in itself, but he hadn’t lied to her. He had laid it on the line from the beginning; he’d been positively barefaced about his intentions. It wasn’t comforting at all.

  As she reached the drawing-room door she heard her mother laugh from within, a warm, carefree laugh that was almost a giggle. Kay stopped, her heart thumping. It had been years since she’d heard that laugh—the last time had been when her father was still alive, in fact.

  In spite of her father’s foolishness with money and his last disastrous run of speculating, which had resulted in her mother being left virtually destitute, Kay knew her parents had loved each other deeply. They had shared the sort of ‘till death do us part’ type of love she’d imagined she and Perry had got, but with her parents it had been real.

  Now her mother was laughing with Henry. Kay’s brow wrinkled. Did it mean…? And then she caught her racing thoughts, which had galloped ahead to picture them walking down the aisle.

  For goodness’ sake, she told herself sternly, her mother and Mitchell’s housekeeper had only known each other for a few days; she mustn’t read too much into something as unimportant as a laugh. She had been speaking the truth wh
en she’d told Mitchell she was glad they liked each other, and if it did develop into something more she would still be glad. But only time would tell.

  Nevertheless, Kay found she had to stand for a full minute composing herself before she felt able to open the door and join the others.

  Why was life so complicated and up in the air? she asked herself, stitching a bright smile on her face as she entered the warmth of the drawing room. And then she glanced across and met Mitchell’s darkly brooding gaze from the other side of the room, and she had her answer,

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WITH Henry and her mother present, Kay found it wasn’t difficult to act a part for the rest of the evening. She managed to mention, fairly casually, that the twins had an invitation to a friend’s birthday party in a day or two, so she felt it best they return home the day after Boxing Day. They were all so grateful for Mitchell’s open-handed kindness, she emphasised carefully, but they must have inconvenienced him dreadfully, and now everyone was back on their feet it was better to get back to normal.

  Mitchell had smiled an easy reply with his mouth but his features had been as flint-hard as his eyes, and she had tried to avoid meeting his gaze for the rest of the evening.

  At eleven o’clock, when her mother had yawned for the hundredth time and had made noises about going to bed, Kay had leapt to join her, sticking to Leonora like glue as they said their goodnights to the men and then climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

  ‘Okay, what’s wrong?’ As they reached the landing Leonora took her daughter’s arm, pulling her up short when Kay would have just said goodnight and entered her room. ‘Have you two had a row or something?’

  ‘More a something.’

  ‘Why? When?’ Leonora whispered. ‘I thought we’d all been together today. When did you fit a row in?’

  ‘I told you, we haven’t rowed. It’s just…’ Kay didn’t know how to put it but she knew with absolute certainty her mother would favour Mitchell whatever she said. ‘Mitchell’s not looking for any sort of ongoing relationship,’ she hissed quietly, glancing back down the shadowed landing as though he were going to leap out any moment. ‘And I don’t want the twins confused and upset when he’s not on the scene any more. They’re growing too fond of him.’