Sommersgate House

Chapter Twelve Thanksgiving

Douglas felt the smart, strategic thing to do was leave her room before she woke.

What he wanted to do was take off his clothes and join her in bed.

He didn’t often ignore his instincts when it came to strategy thus, as hard as it was, sometime after he heard her breath even, he turned out the light and sought his own bed.

He didn’t, however, do this before he silently approached her and watched her sleep. Pulling her heavy, soft hair away from her face to bear witness to the fact that Julia was just as beautiful unconscious as she was when she was conscious. Then he turned out the light and went to his rooms.

Breakfast, they had been told in advance, was the beginning of the festival of food that Thanksgiving Thursday would be. Julia was up and in the kitchens by the time he finished his morning run and arrived at the breakfast table, Oliver, Sam, Monique and Ruby already there. Just as he was taking his seat at the head of the table, Charlie wandered in from the kitchen, looking harassed, wearing an apron and sporting a smudge of flour on her face as she announced, “The girl is a lunatic. The entire Black Watch couldn’t eat all that food.”

Just then, Veronika shooed in a tired Lizzie and Will while Mrs. Kilpatrick and Julia brought in stacks of pancakes, platters of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, hash browns, jugs of syrup and, in the middle of the table, Julia set down an enormous coffee cake.

“Dig in, folks,” Julia announced, taking what had naturally, over the weeks, become her place at Douglas’s left side while Monique sat across from her on his right (the table was far too long for Douglas to take the head and Monique to take the foot).

Douglas saw his mother stare at all the food in disgust but everyone tore into it like they’d been starved for months, especially the children.

“Tell us the story of Thanksgiving, Auntie Jewel.”

This, Douglas heard with surprise, came from Lizzie.

He’d taken special care with Lizzie, not because he wanted to, but because Julia wished it. It wasn’t the easiest task he’d undertaken, facing the grieving twelve year old image of his sister, the sister who, at that age (especially at that age) was the only one who fought his losing corner.

But Lizzie had responded to him immediately and he found she was not at all like his cheerful, bright-eyed, romantic sister.

The depth of pain and feeling in her eyes matched what he saw in her aunt’s and that he found, albeit contradictorily, was far easier to handle.

Furthermore, he came to the uneasy realisation that he enjoyed her response and, watching the despair that clung to her like an aura slowly disappear, further was pleased to know he had a hand in it.

“The true Thanksgiving story is hogwash,” Julia told the stunned table. “Something about pilgrims and Indians and bounty. I don’t know. It’s all perverse considering the pilgrims most likely murdered the Indians after supper.”

Monique gasped in outraged horror (something she seemed to be doing a lot lately and, Douglas thought cynically, had nearly perfected). Ruby, however, giggled excitedly. Will muttered, “Wicked,” not at his aunt’s words but that she was so blunt at telling the truth and, more than likely, outraging his grandmother for whom, Douglas had grown to understand, none of the children cared much (and he didn’t blame them).

“Thanksgiving is just a day to be thankful, for your family, your friends, who…” Julia went on, turning to Charlotte, “are the family you choose for yourself.” Julia took in the table at large and continued. “The food is just celebration. This afternoon, when we get dinner,” she told the children, “you’ll all need to think of something you’re thankful for and if you feel like it, you can tell the whole table.”

“I know what I’m thankful for!” Ruby shouted.

“I know I’d be thankful if you’d quit shouting,” Lizzie pit in and at that, Julia turned her startled, pleased eyes to Douglas.

When she did, he felt his chest tightening at her bright-eyed look and he had to stop himself from touching her flushed cheek. The scene which would ensue from a gesture such as that as witnessed by Monique would kill the moment and, Douglas found, he very much liked the moment.

Further, he didn’t want the children aware of his plans until Julia had firmly agreed to them. He’d promised Julia that.

Tearing his gaze away from Julia, Douglas saw Ruby poke her tongue out and Lizzie.

“Not at the table, Ruby,” Douglas warned automatically, sounding to his own ears like the doting but strict father-figure.

Before he could react to this unwelcome thought, however, Julia shot him another pleased look, her green eyes melting from bright to tender. His chest constricted further and he used every ounce of willpower to ignore it even as he noticed Charlotte give Oliver a meaningful look and Sam hiding her grin by shoving a fork full of coffee cake in her mouth.

“Sorry Unka Douglas but can I say what I’m thankful for?” Ruby asked politely, at a decibel level that was still loud but didn’t shake the windows.

“Please do,” he invited.

She screwed her face up with her big announcement and then broke out into a crooked smile, “I forget!”

Everyone burst out laughing and Douglas watched Julia. The exhaustion that had been etching her features since she arrived was gone, the light was back in her eyes. Her glance fluttered to his yet again but this time she turned away and busied herself with filling her plate.

“We’re not eating again until three or four so you better fill up now,” Julia told the crowd, acting the kind and efficient hostess and making Monique’s dark expression turn black.

Julia didn’t have to encourage anyone, all plates were piled high, except Monique, who had a small bit of eggs and a rasher of bacon.

Regardless of her expression, Monique was being uncharacteristically well-behaved and Douglas didn’t trust it. She had something up her sleeve and Douglas was keen to give Julia her Thanksgiving weekend. Having friends and family around her seemed to delight and relax her and he planned to take best advantage of that.

Last night, he’d seen a serious thawing of the icy reserve Julia had been showing him since he announced his intentions.

He still couldn’t credit the moment when she’d leaned over him, her breasts brushing his back, and blew in his ear. He’d nearly grabbed her, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her to his bed like a caveman.

He’d never had such an acute and uncontrolled reaction before, to anything, much less a woman.

He knew she was more than slightly inebriated at the time but he had never worried too much about the ethics of his tactics, just as long as, in the end, he got what he wanted.

However, unfortunately, he knew it was too soon and Julia would have been furious at such an action perpetrated in front of Charlotte and Oliver, so he kept control of himself, but only just barely.

And Douglas was more and more determined to get what he wanted, for a variety of reasons.

In a short time, Julia had a remarkable effect on everything around her and thus everything around him.

Sommersgate itself had changed. It was more welcoming than he’d ever felt it. The staff were more cheerful, even smiling openly to each other, Julia, the children and even him (they were still dour-faced and smile-less when Monique made an appearance). Last night, entertaining friends, the house felt normal. Although he’d never really known normal but he knew that Sommersgate felt no longer cold and forbidding but instead warm and even welcoming.

Douglas cleared these thoughts. He’d never believed what many of the staff, local myth, and even Tamsin thought as the house having its own personality.

What he did believe was that Julia thought that she had truly seen a ghost last night. As hilariously adorable as she was in her fright (and she was, indeed, adorable), it was clear she believed thoroughly in the myth that shrouded Sommersgate. To Douglas’s way of thinking, this was only to his fortune. He was pleased she saw The Mistress last night and hoped the ghost would return and drive her, again, straight into his arms.

He just hoped the next time she ran into him, they were closer to his bed.

The breakfast manfully consumed with still enough left over for another group of their size to eat until they were satiated, everyone filed away from the table. Sam and Charlie headed to the kitchen and Oliver and Douglas were off to the stables when Douglas saw Carter.

Monique was drifting toward the morning room and Julia was seeing to the children when Douglas called out to the man.

“The shrubbery around Miss Fair…” he stopped himself and thought of how the staff addressed her less formally, “Miss Julia’s windows needs cutting back. Please see to it.”

Carter simply nodded but Douglas caught the look of disdain on Monique’s face and the look of pleasure on Julia’s.

Everyone but the women spent the day pleasantly occupied however they saw fit. After breakfast, the children followed Oliver and Douglas to the stables, they all saddled horses and took a morning ride, Ruby seated in front of Douglas, Willie and Lizzie on their own mounts.

When they returned, the children came and went from the kitchen. Charlie and Sam would emerge for a rest but Julia was firmly entrenched in her cooking and Douglas didn’t see her the entire day.

At three, Veronika moved through the house timidly to tell people that supper would be served in forty-five minutes. At the allotted time, Douglas and Oliver met Charlotte at the bottom of the stairwell. Charlotte had changed from casual clothes into a fetching black dress.

“Did it really take you three and Veronika and Mrs. K to make Thanksgiving dinner?” Oliver asked his wife after he’d kissed her cheek.

“No, but we didn’t make a Thanksgiving dinner, we made two Thanksgiving dinners,” Charlotte answered.

“For God’s sake, why?” Oliver breathed, likely still recovering from the breakfast orgy.

“Julia made one for the staff. While we sit down to eat the one Mrs. K and Ronnie made for us, they’ll sit down and eat one Julia and the rest of us made for them. ‘No one,’” Charlotte drawled in a husky, American accent, teasingly mimicking Julia’s voice, “‘Misses out on Thanksgiving.’”

Charlotte turned her face to Douglas to see how he’d react to this news but he kept his expression bland. He knew his friends were speculating about Julia and himself but he had no idea if Charlotte would be an ally or an enemy. She knew too much of his history, especially with women, and she’d formed a close bond with Julia in a short time. He had decided to tread carefully with her.

Douglas, did, however, have a reaction. Nearly all of his friends growing up had servants and many of them had long-standing staff who had effectively become members of their family. Monique and Maxwell Ashton did not share this affectionate bent. Although Douglas himself had never known a time when Mr. and Mrs. Kilpatrick had not been in his life, he knew nothing about them and never asked, first because it wouldn’t have been allowed by his parents and then as pure habit. Yet in a matter of weeks, Julia had made deep inroads into entrenching his servants into the family unit.

No more was said as, just then, the children clamoured down the stairwell followed by Julia who was walking beside Sam, both of them laughing at something.

At the sight of her, Douglas took a swift intake of breath.

Julia was wearing a soft, cream, knit sweater dress that covered nearly every inch of flesh, from its deep, cowl-neck all the way down to her wrists with the figure-skimming skirt swinging gracefully around her ankles. It didn’t matter that it covered every bit of her. Everywhere, the material fit snugly, lovingly accentuating every lush curve. She’d fastened a gold, link belt tantalisingly low on her hips and had dozens of golden bangles on both her wrists. And her feet were encased in a pair of tan cowboy boots.

“You might not want to ogle my new best friend,” Charlotte hissed in a playfully irate voice and Douglas, unusually, started. He swiftly shuttered his blatant reaction, his head swung to his friend but he saw Charlie was admonishing Oliver who turned sheepish eyes to his wife.

As Julia and Sam made it to the bottom of the stairwell, the children already rushing to the dining room, Douglas moved forward, intent on one thing.

Dinner may get cold and his careful strategy might be damned but he was going to slip her somewhere so he could privately show her exactly how much he liked her dress. Privately and thoroughly, until she was in no doubt about his particularly strong, insistent feelings about that… fucking… dress.

Julia lifted her eyes to his and Douglas saw hers became startled as she read his unconcealed intent and, at that moment, with her green eyes on him, that dress on her, he didn’t give a good goddamn that she could read him so easily.

However, just then there was a bustle of activity down the hall and Monique came gliding out of the library.

“How delightful, my friend is just in time. Now, another Thanksgiving tradition, a family reunion.”

Douglas ignored his mother but Julia’s eyes followed Monique.

He arrived at her side and bent to whisper in her ear, “If I may have a private word before dinner?”

“What?” she asked distractedly, not looking at him, but instead she continued gazing down the hall and he saw her face pale as she breathed, “Oh.”

Douglas followed her eyes and saw what made her pale. In confusion, he stared at a tall, familiar-looking man with greying blond hair and faded blue eyes.

Then he heard Julia whisper, “My God, it’s my Dad.”

At her words, Douglas’s vision exploded in a white-hot blaze of fury.

Monique was escorting into the stairwell, and fawning over, Dr. Trevor Fairfax, Julia’s father.

Dear Lord in heaven, Julia thought and then she felt the room reel and she was almost certain she was going to faint even though she’d never done such a ridiculous thing in her entire life.

“I didn’t want to say anything because Dr. Fairfax didn’t know if he could make it but here he is! Isn’t this an extraordinary surprise? A family reunion!” Monique announced with malevolent delight.

The room was still spinning and in a desperate effort to steady herself, Julia focused on Douglas. Looking at him from under her lashes, she saw to her distracted surprise that he was staring at her father, not blandly, but thin-lipped, his scar frighteningly defined and a muscle worked angrily in his hard jaw.

Monique continued with her announcement and Julia swung her dazed eyes to the woman. “I know, Julia, that this will be a big surprise for you. But I do hope it’s a welcome one. I’ve had many heartfelt conversations with your father, who was understandably upset about Gavin, and, of course, that no one saw fit to invite him to his own son’s funeral.”

At any other time Julia would have laughed out loud at the thought of the heartless Monique having a heartfelt anything.

However nothing at that moment was even the slightest bit funny.

She didn’t even dignify Monique’s second pronouncement with a thought. Of course her father hadn’t been invited to Gavin’s funeral. It was Trevor Fairfax’s choice not to be a part of their lives. Julia herself hadn’t seen her father since her college graduation when he handed her a tiny cardboard box that held a pair of earrings made of paste and some metal that turned green within a few weeks. He had walked away from her then, feeling his duty done, and she’d never seen or heard from him again.

And she liked it that way.

“Julia.” Her father came forward, his smooth, cultured voice, grating across her skin like sandpaper. His blue eyes, eyes so much like Gavin’s, moved over her face with worried care. To her disbelief, he pulled her rapidly stiffening body into his arms. “I was so sorry to hear about Gavin.”

“Children!” Monique called and Julia jumped while still suffering her father’s embrace. “We have a surprise for you.”

Julia uttered a panicked noise and her father released her, his hands on her shoulders slid down to hold her firmly by her upper arms. They had to look, for all intents and purposes, like the happily reunited father and daughter and this thought made Julia want to scream.

For some reason she could not fathom, her eyes searched for Douglas, but he was no longer at her side. She didn’t want the kids to be involved in this, yet somehow in those vital seconds, she had been rendered speechless.

Sam, Oliver and Charlie were staring at the scene openly, obviously bemused by this highly-charged turn in the so recently convivial state of affairs.

The children had entered the room and were watching in silent confusion. Before Julia could pull herself together, she realised Douglas had moved toward them.

“Lizzie, take your brother and sister into the kitchen.” His deep voice ordered then Julia saw Mrs. K bustle up the long room. “Mrs. Kilpatrick, please take the children to the kitchen.”

“What’s happening?” Mrs. K, who normally would not say a word in response to any command of Douglas’s (except “Yes, Lord Ashton”), took one look at Julia’s stricken face and her own became a mask of concern.

Julia finally found her voice.

“Please,” she implored and Mrs. K became all business. She quickly hustled the children out, pulling the dining room doors closed behind her.

Julia heard Ruby’s shout, “Who’s that man?” and Julia’s eyes closed in despair as she pulled herself free of her father’s hands.

“Julia, my dear, I know this is a surprise. I was stunned to get your mother’s letter telling me what happened to Gavin. So young, so full of life.” Her father was speaking to her and when she opened her eyes, she couldn’t meet his, couldn’t get a handle on her careening thoughts. His words were so inane, the kind of thing you’d say about someone you didn’t know.

But then, he didn’t know Gavin.

She caught Monique in her line of vision, the other woman’s face alight with vicious glee while she stood taking in the scene. After fifteen years, Monique knew that Trevor Fairfax had no place in his first family’s life and still she contacted him, invited him there, on Thanksgiving.

Julia’s bewildered panic began to give way to anger. She felt rather than saw Douglas position himself behind her, very close behind her. So close, she could feel the heat from his body. For some reason, this emboldened her.

“So full of life?” she whispered, as if to herself, emotions surging through her and she lifted her eyes to her father’s. Gavin would have likely looked like him, if he’d been given a few more decades, and that thought drove away all vestiges of panic and replaced them with blinding fury.

The likes of Trevor Fairfax, who could cheat on his wife and turn his back on his children, rarely seeing them, never paying child support, never giving them a kind word or a loving touch, could live happily into his sixties. But a good man like Gavin, who was full of love and fun and enjoyed life to its fullest, didn’t even make it to forty years of age.

At that thought, Julia’s rage exploded.

“How do you know what he was full of?” she snapped. “You hadn’t seen him in fifteen years, hadn’t sent a single Christmas card, hadn’t looked upon his children or ever met his beautiful wife! He could have been dying of cancer at the time of the accident, brought low with diabetes, had his legs crushed in a freak accident involving a tree,” she declared wildly, her voice rising.

She felt Douglas’s hand touch the small of her back and feeling it there gave her even more courage.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded hotly.

“Julia, I don’t think…” Monique started a reprimand but surprisingly it was Trevor who interrupted her.

With a look at his audience, his eyes showing nothing but polite irritation at her outburst, the very soul of the patient father, Trevor asked, “Perhaps we can have some privacy?”

“Yes, perhaps we should all go to the kitchen,” Charlotte offered quietly from somewhere behind Julia.

“No!” Julia cried, panicked, wanting her friends around her, feeling she couldn’t face this loathsome man alone, not without Patricia there, not without Gavin there. Tears began to fill her eyes, tears she resolutely refused to shed.

Douglas moved even closer. “Oliver, please take the women into the dining room and begin the meal.” His voice rumbled, so close, it sent vibrations down her back and her head twisted, her eyes flying to his.

Don’t leave me, she silently begged.

Douglas spared her only a glance before he said, “We’ll go into the library.”

She saw that Douglas’s eyes were blank, gone was the anger she had seen in his face earlier, gone was the teasing man she was with last night. Now, it was pure Douglas, unaffected and calm.

Even in the face of that, she felt a sense of relief that he said the word, “we”.

The others bustled quickly into the dining room, closing the door behind them as Douglas swung out his arm toward the library, cordially inviting them to move forward, the picture of the gracious host.

Trevor hesitated. “Could I speak with my daughter alone?”

Without hesitation, Douglas said simply, “No.”

It was said in his usual authoritative tone that brooked no argument. After uttering that one word, Douglas pressed his hand into Julia’s back, gently forcing her forward before she could see her father’s response and before her father could respond at all.

She preceded both men into the room, Douglas stopping considerately to allow Trevor to go in front of him and then turning to close the doors behind him.

Julia walked to the ceiling-high windows and surveyed the gardens. Although she knew in their full bloom they could be beautiful, now the formal and regimented beds had been put to sleep for the winter. They were nothing but borders and large circles of overturned dirt with enormous empty urns in the middle surrounded by still-green lawns. They were terraced with magnificent balustrades that led into a small, natural wooded area that gave way to graceful rolling fields where chocolate-faced, round, woolly sheep grazed. The sun was already beginning to set on this beautiful pastoral scene and the day, whose weather had veered from hazy to bright, was fading.

Julia saw none of that, her mind turning in circles and she had begun to shake.

She was shaking because her father was there, pretending to feel a grief there was no way on God’s green earth he could feel.

She was shaking because she knew Monique hated her enough to do this to her, on a special day, a holiday, for goodness sakes. It was never pleasant to acknowledge that someone hated you that much, especially someone with whom you were forced to live.

And she was shaking because even if Douglas was with her (and she was thankful that he was and she wasn’t going to try to process why, she just was), she still felt somehow alone. Thousands of miles away from her wise and dramatic mother who would know exactly what to say. And forever away from her beloved brother who would have known exactly what to do.

And she was just Julia, the weakest of the lot, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to face this.

“Julia, you must know, regardless of our estrangement, it came as a great shock –” her father began but she turned and levelled her gaze at him, the look in her eye causing him to stop speaking.

He’d walked into the room and was standing not five feet from her, his face earnest, his eyes warm.

Her lip curled.

“Estrangement?” she broke in, her voice shaking. “What a convenient word. I thought it was called ‘abandonment’.”

Trevor’s head jerked in response as if she’d physically struck a blow.

“Of course,” Julia continued, ignoring her father, anger spurring her on. She turned her attention from her father to Douglas, who was standing with his shoulders against the doors and his arms crossed on his chest, regarding her with that bland expression on his face. “I may not have full command of the English language. I was born in a small town in Indiana to a mother whose parents were farmers, as were their parents before them. We’re just simple folk.” Her eyes swung back to her father. “I was not born to privilege. My mother was not heiress to a popcorn fortune who came complete with a trust fund, a five bedroom mansion and a fourth generation membership to the country club. My father was, of course, a well-known surgeon but I never saw him. He didn’t send me to private school and violin lessons and pay for college and graduate school. So perhaps I have it wrong. I suppose the genteel way is to refer to it as ‘estrangement’ but where I come from, we call ‘em as we see ‘em and we’d call it ‘abandonment’.” Her eyes swung back to Douglas. “What do you think, Douglas?”

“Julia, is this really necessary?” her father asked before Douglas could answer (not that he was going to answer). “I came to make amends, when things like this happen, you realise –”

It was then Julia completely lost control, her vision exploding into fireworks of fury. Her fists clenched and her body tensed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She leaned forward stiffly from the waist and hissed, “Make amends? You can never make amends. Even if I was to spend the next fifteen years telling you, you will never know what a good man your son was. You will never have the chance to meet the glorious woman he chose for his bride. You will never have her joy and light shine down on you. You’re too late.”

“I know that, Julia,” Trevor replied, his voice conciliatory. He began to walk forward and she threw her arm up to fend him off. It registered somewhere in her brain that Douglas had pushed away from the doors when father started to approach daughter but Julia was too overcome to think about what that meant.

“So now, because I have a little bit of my brother in me, I’m going to let you have Thanksgiving dinner with your grandchildren. Not for your sake, but for theirs,” Julia went on. “Their parents just died and I don’t want anything disturbing what, up until now, was perhaps their first lovely day in months. And afterwards, you’re going to go back to your wife and family and never darken our door again.”

At the mention of his second family, his face grew pale and his carefully controlled expression faltered.

“Felicia’s left me, Julia.” His voice cracked on this admission and instead of Julia feeling an ounce of compassion, which she saw his eyes beseeching her for, it all became blazingly clear why he was there.

If his wife had left him then now he was alone, only now would he come back into her life. Not of his own accord, but because, perhaps, he had no one else.

She didn’t care. She could not believe his selfishness, it took her breath away. But he wasn’t finished.

“My children, they’re all…” He didn’t complete that thought and she didn’t wonder at it. None of her half sisters or brother had ever made any advances to her or Gavin either. “And then I heard about Gavin and I just had to –”

She advanced on him, taking two swift strides and barely registering his wince and recoil at her quick, furious charge. She realised then how old he looked, how faded and defeated, his handsomeness nothing but a memory.

Gavin would have never looked like that. Never.

She jolted to a halt.

“If you have problems, they’re your problems. We, Mom, Gavin and I, had problems too but we managed to sort through them without you! There was the time when Mom had nineteen cents in the bank and you hadn’t paid child support and we had no toilet paper, where were you when Gavin had to break open his piggy bank so we could go to the store? There was the time when Gavin won All-County in football and all the other boys stood on the stage with their fathers and Mom had to be at work and my brother had to stand there alone, where were you then?” She hurled every word at him like a spear. “So, now you can take my offer and then you can go away and I swear to all that is holy, if you ever approach my mother, I’ll hunt you down and –”

“I believe,” Douglas cut in firmly, quieting her with his calm words, “dinner is getting cold. I would imagine the children are missing their aunt and likely becoming concerned.” Both father and daughter swung to Douglas who was now standing several feet from the doorway. “If Julia has anything more to say after supper, perhaps she can do so then. Now it’s important to get back to the children.”

Julia was still shaking but she took a deep breath while she watched Douglas. He looked completely unperturbed at this turn of events and she tried to suck some of his energy from across the room.

“Of course,” she agreed with a stiff nod, because he was right, she should be thinking of the children. “Father, would you like to meet your grandchildren?” she inquired, but her tone was barely civil, making these lovely words sound nearly threatening.

He simply nodded, looking back and forth between Douglas and Julia.

She took another breath and motioned with her arm to the door. Trevor started to exit the room and she followed him, her movements jerky. As she passed Douglas, he caught her hand and pulled on it gently to stop her.

“You have to get control of yourself,” he told her from between his teeth. “You can’t let the children see you like this.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” Julia flashed back. He may be able to stand cold and controlled in the face of just about anything but she wasn’t built like that.

Douglas turned.

“Dr. Fairfax,” he called to the older man and her father, already in the hall, stopped. “If you’ll give me a moment with Julia?”

Trevor looked relieved, obviously believing that he had an ally in Douglas as he had in Monique and therefore he nodded gratefully.

Julia also wondered where Douglas stood on all this drama and decided that it was likely exactly where Douglas always stood, casually removed.

“Please close the doors and wait for us in the hall,” Douglas requested. “And please do not approach the children until Julia and I are there to make introductions.”

Trevor nodded again before he closed the doors behind him and Douglas pulled Julia back to the windows where his gentle tug on her hand made her halt.

He turned her to face him but didn’t let go over her hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered under her breath, her body still shaking, resolving to worry about Douglas some other time.

“Julia, you lose your temper, you let him see he can affect you and you give him power. You cannot give him power. You need to control yourself,” Douglas informed her, like it was as easy as that.

“He does have power!” she burst out. “He’s my father. He’ll always be my father.”

It was all too much, losing Gavin and Tammy, losing her old life, playing this game with Douglas and now this. She didn’t have the strength, never had, Sean had shown her that.

She lifted a hand and raked her fingers with agitation through her hair.

“He’s never been your father,” Douglas stated and her entire body jerked at his pronouncement, her arm dropping listlessly, because, in his statement’s exquisite simplicity, she realised he was right.

She stared at him, stunned with the knowledge shared eloquently, through five little words, that Douglas didn’t stand casually removed, not from her but instead, from Dr. Trevor Fairfax. Gone was the fury she’d seen the moment her father entered the hall. Douglas gave Trevor Fairfax nothing and this was because he was worth nothing to Douglas except his casual indifference. And telling her this, showing her, Douglas was indicating this was how she should also behave.

The tears she’d pushed back sprang to her eyes. She pulled her hand from his and swung away, putting distance between them as she fought back her emotions and tried to find the strength to follow his lead. She stopped, her back to Douglas and pressed the fingers of both of her hands to her mouth.

Douglas didn’t follow her and she used the moment of semi-privacy to battle for control.

“You know, I don’t really miss him,” Gavin said once when they were talking about their father. “Whenever we had to go to his house for the weekend, I always couldn’t wait to get home to Mom.”

Tamsin had kissed the top of her husband’s head.

“Yeah, Gav,” Julia had agreed quietly, “I know.”

“I was glad when he stopped coming to pick us up for visits,” Gavin had muttered. “It was a relief.”

Then Gavin looked up at them and laughed off the sad thoughts he was expressing aloud and the sadder ones that underlay them. Julia never knew if it was actually a relief or if her brother was trying to convince himself. Had he wished he’d had a father? Had he wished he’d not grown up in a house full of women? Had he needed some male guidance?

She’d never asked and now she’d never know. What she did know was that Gavin worked every moment of every day to be a good father to his children, a shining example and, furthermore, an excellent, attentive, loving husband to his wife.

For Julia’s part, she’d always wanted a Daddy, someone to make her feel like a princess just as she’d witnessed her own father treated his other two daughters. She’d wanted that kind of love and devotion, to be the beautiful darling, the girl who could do no wrong in her Daddy’s eyes. And she never gave up hoping for that, hoping that one day he’d be that kind of Dad. And then came the day he gave her the cheap cardboard box filled with cheaper earrings after she had struggled her way through four years of university, working as a tutor, and left with a staggering amount of student loans which he, not once, offered to assist her with. That day, she had given up hope.

She thought about those earrings, which she kept until just over a month ago, finding them when she packed up her house. Before she moved to England she had thrown them in the trash.

Douglas was right, he had never been her father.

She straightened her shoulders and drew air into her nostrils, her head tilting back with the effort. She released it from her mouth and turned to Douglas.

Not one tear had been shed.

“I’m ready,” she told him, her voice, surprising her, was strong.

He assessed her as she walked toward him but when she went to pass him, he took her hand. They walked together, hand in hand, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Even though she knew it was weak, knew she shouldn’t allow it, she needed his hand in hers. She might not have made it across the room without it.

When he stopped to open the door, he turned to her.

“Well done,” he whispered, the indifferent expression gone from his eyes and now clear, undiluted admiration was shining in them.

She felt every bone in her body turn to jelly and it was an immense effort of will simply to stay standing.

She should have nodded casually as if there was no question she could master the situation. But instead the corners of her lips tilted up ever-so-slightly at the look in his eyes that made her stomach clench, not with desire but with pride.

She dipped her head, slightly flustered, and whispered, “Thank you.”

She felt Douglas’s hand squeeze hers then he opened the door.

Five hours later, with a huge dose of Charlie’s experienced flair, coupled with Julia’s determined grace, a bit of Sam’s hilarious energy and even shades of Monique’s cultured charm, Thanksgiving Day did not become the disaster for which it seemed to be destined.

The children were hesitantly accepting of their grandfather, although both Elizabeth and William seemed far more reluctant than Ruby, undoubtedly they’d heard their parents talk. They looked constantly at Julia and Douglas. Julia would give them reassuring smiles; Douglas took Julia’s lead (but not so far as to smile, just communicating non-verbally that all was well).

Trevor acted the benevolent grandfather but seemed to be more interested in dancing attendance upon Monique.

Now, the children in bed, Douglas felt the need for pretence was gone.

He had known his mother was up to something and he resolved to deal with her later. He knew exactly what he intended to do to punish her for today’s antics. He would not, however, do it in front of guests.

As for Trevor Fairfax, that matter would need to be dealt with immediately.

Julia’s words about Gavin needing to smash open his piggy bank so her family could have the bare necessities made his gut clench. And the new knowledge that the proud, easy-going man he knew as his brother-in-law, who showered steady devotion on his family, at one time stood alone on a stage without a parent to support him, made him understand with a clarity he never had before why Tamsin had fallen so deeply in love with her husband. Patricia Fairfax was clearly a remarkable woman to make up for so much and nurture her family the way she did.

Douglas watched Julia and marvelled at her strength of will to control her emotions, to sit in a room and have dinner with her errant father. Douglas found her behaviour stunning.

But now it was high time his soon-to-be wife was allowed to relax and enjoy her fucking holiday.

They were all in the formal drawing room finishing a nightcap. Julia’s father seemed happy enough, sitting and conversing and even, Douglas noted to his disgust, discreetly flirting with Monique.

For Julia’s sake, Douglas had been nursing a slow burn for five hours and he was coming to the end of his patience with it. It was her father, her issue and he had to allow her to deal with it in her way (with his guidance, of course), even though he very much wanted to eject the man the minute he realised who he was.

But it was her battle. And Julia had, after a valiant struggle, handled it quite splendidly. If she had turned to Douglas and told him to get rid of her father, he would have done so, without hesitation. But she didn’t and that too, he thought, was not only her prerogative and it was also honourable.

However, when Monique finally moved away to refresh her drink, Douglas was finished with allowing Julia to have her honourable way.

He strode over to Trevor and said under his breath in a tone that could not be ignored nor misunderstood, “I think, Dr. Fairfax, it’s time for you to leave.”

Trevor turned astonished eyes to Douglas, clearly having been lulled into relaxing in his very plush surroundings. Even though Julia said barely a dozen words to him since dinner, Monique had been expending a great deal of energy making him feel welcome.

The older man read Douglas’s face and was smart enough to nod.

Douglas wasted no time in announcing his guest’s imminent departure. Farewells were quickly and not-so-cordially exchanged (Charlotte, Oliver and Sam had correctly surmised Julia and Douglas’s mood and behaved accordingly).

Douglas and Julia, joined by Monique, walked Trevor to the front door where Carter (at Douglas’s behest) had been waiting with the Bentley for the last half an hour. When Douglas ordered Carter to the front, Carter informed him that Trevor arrived in a taxi. Where Trevor now was going, Douglas neither knew nor cared.

Monique gave him a fond good-bye, pleased that it seemed she’d gotten away with her spitefulness. Julia just stood with her arms crossed on her chest and didn’t say a word.

Douglas, tone and manner civil, shook the man’s hand and then said in a cordial voice, “Just so we understand about this evening, Dr. Fairfax, you are not to return to this house or approach Julia, the children or Patricia unless one of them expresses the desire to communicate with you.”

Unnerved by Douglas’s belying manner and words, Trevor blinked and stammered, “I… I –”

Douglas released his hand.

Monique, of course, was not at a loss for words. “Douglas! How could you? Trevor and I have, these past weeks, formed a lovely friendship.” She turned to Trevor. “If I wish to see you, you are always welcome at Sommers –”

Douglas didn’t allow her to finish.

“If you invite him into my house without Julia’s consent, you will find yourself no longer living in it,” he stated inflexibly.

It was Monique’s turn to stammer, this time not in astonishment but in outrage and Douglas heard Julia’s surprised gasp.

Douglas ignored his mother and Julia and turned back to Trevor. “Did I make myself understood?”

Douglas didn’t wait for his answer and began to walk away, offering his arm to Julia who walked forward woodenly, her face partially in shadows, her breath shallow. She placed her hand in the crook his elbow and he tucked it firmly in his side.

Julia didn’t offer her father a good-bye.

“Sir,” Carter called, “I thought you’d like to know, a somewhat urgent call came about five minutes ago. I explained you’d ring him back.”

Douglas felt his irritation escalate. Now was exactly not the time for this. He needed to talk to Julia, he wished to see if she was all right. He certainly didn’t need to leave her alone with his mother, and then, of course, there were the children to consider

His eyes met Carter’s.

Fucking hell. He would have to have a word with Mrs. Kilpatrick.

His mind moving swiftly through the problems this new turn of events caused, he strode by Carter but said over his shoulder, “I’ll phone him immediately.”

Julia seemed oblivious to the entire exchange.

When they arrived inside the hall, leaving Monique to make her apologies or explanations to Trevor, Douglas closed the heavy door behind them.

When he finally caught sight of Julia’s face in the lights of the hall, he felt his breath catch. Her eyes were shining with gratitude. Gratitude he would have liked very much to have the time to translate into something else.

She licked her lips and came forward, placing her hand on his chest, she leaned close to him.

“Thank you,” she whispered for the second time that day and the strength of feeling underlying her tone was his undoing.

He pulled her roughly in his arms and pressed a hard kiss on her lips, catching her gasp against his mouth. His body immediately responded, beginning to tense, his hands on the soft material of her dress itching for more of her, the smell of her scent (she’d worn the one he preferred that day) surrounding him.

For his own sanity, he let her go just as abruptly as he grabbed hold of her.

She stood swaying gently, her eyes blinking at him and he settled his hands on either side of her jaw and moved in as close as he dared in an effort to retain control.

“I have to go, something important, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he told her.

She blinked again. “Okay,” she muttered, drawing out the “O” dazedly.

He felt a smile come to his face at the bedazzled look in her eye, inordinately pleased that he could do that with one kiss.

As a reward and against his better judgement, he gave her another one, pulling her forward using gentle pressure on her face. Their bodies didn’t touch, just their lips and their tongues. He spent longer on her, used more care, teasing her, tasting her, feeling his blood stir, his already tense body tightening hungrily.

The moment he heard the sexy little moan he was getting used to, the one that came from the back of her throat that heralded the moment she would give in and move to deepen the kiss, he forced himself to let her go.

And without looking back, he walked away.