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‘And there is plenty of time. It’s not like we have a whole lot of options other than hanging out here. You’ve stopped shivering,’ she commented, noticing that his face was no longer deathly pale, his nose and cheeks even looking a little pink.
‘The fire’s good,’ he said, and she wondered whether she was ever going to get anything other than monosyllables from him. She could see that he was distracted by her revelation that she wasn’t Lara, and left him to his thoughts, not wanting to interrupt some pretty fierce-looking arguments he seemed to be having with himself.
‘We should light more of the fires,’ he said eventually. ‘The heating is mainly electric storage radiators. They’ll be warm from heating up overnight, but if the power doesn’t come back then tomorrow we’ll be freezing. Even if the power comes back, it’s hard to keep it warm with the central heating alone. You’ll want a fire in the bedroom tonight.’
At that, she realised she hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements. Surely in a house this size she didn’t have to worry that there wasn’t room for them both. But if he had been expecting Lara and her guest to share...
‘I have a sofa bed in my study,’ he told her, obviously guessing the direction of her thoughts. ‘I won’t intrude on your use of the rest of the house. I know you’re not Lara, but we had an agreement and you shouldn’t worry that I won’t honour it.’
Her forehead creased. Was that what he thought of her, that she was worried that she wouldn’t get the sole use of this incredible place? If it hadn’t been for Lara, she would never stay anywhere other than the budget hotels she put on the university’s expenses for conferences. It would hardly be a hardship if he slept in one of the guest bedrooms.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But if we’re both staying here, you shouldn’t feel as if you have to keep to your study. It’s a huge house. There’s plenty of room for us both.’
He stood, emerging from the blankets like a giant moth from a chrysalis. ‘It’s fine. We’ll work out how to deal with each other as we go along, I s’pose.’
Deal with each other. Charming.
She followed him up the staircase as he wrapped the blankets tight around his shoulders again, the heat of the fire dying away with every step.
He stopped when he reached a huge oak door halfway along the gallery, and paused, his hand reaching for the handle.
‘I should probably explain...’ he started, before he opened the door. ‘When Lara said that she was bringing someone, I’d assumed it was a partner, and...well. Never mind. You’ll see for yourself.’
He pushed open the door and Jess gasped.
More candles. More fairy lights. This time wound around the four-poster bed, right the way up to the panelled ceiling. Enormous bunches of flowers graced each bedside table and rose petals had been scattered generously across the top of the quilt. The result was overwhelmingly romantic and rendered her quite speechless.
Which was awkward, given that Rufus’s social skills didn’t seem to be quite up to this level of misunderstanding either.
‘Did your mum do this too?’ Jess asked, and then felt blood rushing to her cheeks. She looked at a bedroom decorated like this, and her reaction was to talk about his mother? There was something seriously wrong with her.
Like the fact that she’d spent so much of the last ten years studying and working that she hadn’t spent nearly enough of it dating. She wasn’t even sure if Rufus was her type. If she even had a type. But from the pink in his cheeks, he’d found her comments as wildly embarrassing as she had.
‘No, this was all me.’
She knew her cheeks were glowing red and hoped that the lack of overhead lighting was hiding it. But she turned towards the fire just in case to hide her face. Pulling the matches that she’d picked up downstairs out of her pocket, she crossed to the hearth. The newspaper knots in the bottom of the grate caught light quickly, and Jess watched as the flames licked up the kindling and started creeping up the logs balanced on top.
The overhead lights came back on with a flicker and Jess was torn between relief that the atmosphere had just become that little bit less atmospheric, and worry that Rufus could now see just how red her face was.
‘It would be a shame to waste all this,’ Jess said, and then quickly stumbled over her words when she realised how that must sound. A quick glance at Rufus’s face proved that he had taken that the really wrong way and she backtracked frantically. ‘I mean, you’ve made it look beautiful, and if Lara were here she’d be photographing the heck out of it. Just...don’t touch anything, okay? You said you had a camera? Now would be a good time to go and find it. Was it in your jeans? And—’ she glanced down, felt her cheeks colour again ‘—maybe put on some trousers. Do you have anything you can wear until they dry?’
He looked down at his legs, seeming to remember only at that moment that she had stripped him half-naked, and then back up to meet her eyes. ‘I’ll find something.’ He pulled the blankets a little tighter around himself. ‘And I’ll get the camera.’
‘Good. I’m going to call Lara now the power’s back on.’
Jess breathed a deep sigh of relief as he left the room. She pulled her phone from her pocket and called Lara, thinking that she really needed to get this phone plugged in before they lost power again. The snow outside was showing no sign of slowing down: she needed to plan ahead if they were going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future with the power in and out.
‘Jess!’ Lara shouted as she picked up the phone. ‘Does this mean you don’t hate me? Are you okay? You didn’t message me back!’
Jess laughed. Let it never be said that Lara underreacted to anything.
‘I’m fine. And I don’t hate you—I know you’d be here if you could be.’
‘You know I would. Instead I’m in a crappy hotel without even a minibar to my name and I’m going to be stuck here until Boxing Day. Did you make it to Upton Manor? Are you okay there on your own?’
‘Mmm,’ Jess said, wondering where she should even start explaining what had happened since she’d arrived. ‘About that. I’m not actually—speaking in the most literal sense—alone.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
