“What, we can’t find a cab at all? What about an all-night garage?”
“No, the nearest garage is the one I use at Chipping Camden. Or there might be one at Winchcombe, but nothing’s going to be open now.” She fumbled for her phone. “It’s just gone ten. We’re going to have to call someone in the village and ask them to come and get us.”
I opened the door of the Mini. “Let’s go to the pub before it shuts. At least it will be somewhere to wait in the warm. We’ll freeze if we stay out here.”
Celia followed me out of the car. “I’m going to try Howard. He has a Land Rover. It’s icy out there tonight.” As we walked back up the hill to the Black Swan, Celia tried to get in contact with Howard.
“I’m not getting any answer from Howard, Barbara’s going straight to voicemail, and I must have the wrong number for Jim. It says the number isn’t recognized. I don’t have a number for Keely or Peter. I’m going to try the Manor. See if anyone’s around.”
We got to the bar in the Black Swan just a few minutes before last orders. It was almost deserted. There was one older guy on a stool at the bar and a middle-aged couple by the fireplace. That was it. While the bartender started preparing the hot toddies I’d ordered, Celia was still buried in her phone.
“Fiona’s on her own in reception so she can’t go and find anyone. Where did everyone disappear to? There are always people around. I guess we’ll have to walk it.”
Celia had lost her mind if she thought we were walking back to Snowsly. “We’re not walking anywhere, particularly somewhere six miles away in sub-zero temperatures. We’ll ask someone for a lift. Maybe the barman here. I can offer them some cash. It’ll be fine.”
Celia turned to me, looking like I’d just told her I was planning to murder her cat. “Promise me there is no way on this planet that you’re going to do that. We can’t blow our cover. Not at this point.”
“Because?” I was almost certain no one would care that we’d come from Snowsly, but even if they did, so what? “What’s the worst that can happen?” I wasn’t going to be talked into making a freezing-cold trek on pitch black roads when I could just ask someone for a lift.
“We’re having car trouble, mate,” I said to the barman as he slid our two drinks toward me. “Any chance of a lift to the next village when you’ve finished your shift? I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Sorry. No car. Haven’t even got a license. I cycle everywhere.”
Shit.
“Stay here,” I said to Celia as I stalked toward the couple by the fireplace.
“We’ve shared a bottle of wine,” the woman said after I’d explained our situation. “There’s no way either of us can drive, otherwise we’d have been happy to take you both. We’re staying upstairs for our anniversary so we can enjoy a few drinks.”
I thanked them and turned away before it hit me and I turned back to them. “Upstairs? Do they have rooms?” Snowsville wasn’t large enough for a hotel, but it made sense there’d be a few rooms above the pub.
“Only three. But they’re all very nice.”
I nodded and sped back to the bar. “You have a couple of rooms available?” I asked, without consulting Celia.
“Just one,” he said. “The Cygnet room.”
“We’ll take it.”
I handed over my credit card and paid in full, ignoring Celia’s insistent tug on my coat.
“I’ll get the key,” the barman said.
“Are you serious?” she said through her smile as he disappeared. “We can’t stay the night! We’re bound to get busted if they see me in daylight.”
I chuckled. I thought she was going to have a problem with sharing a room, not blowing our cover.
“It will be fine,” I said. “We’ll get someone to pick us up in the morning from the back door. No one will see a thing. I reckon they could smuggle Madonna out of here first thing and no one would be any the wiser.”
“And one room?”
I shrugged. “They only had one room. And the Marriot next door is fully booked.”
The barman came back with our key and pointed us in the direction of the stairs.
“Come on, Mrs. Fox. I’ll carry you over the threshold if you’re lucky.”
Celia squealed as I reached to pick her up, a bloom in her cheeks appearing that was impossible to miss. I relented, stopped trying to pick her up, and followed her up the stairs.
Our room was clean and comfortable—not as big as the Blue Room back at the Manor, but there was plenty of room to lay our heads for a few hours until someone picked up their phone.
“You’re right, this really was our only option,” Celia said, flopping down into the flowery chair behind the door. “I can sleep in the chair.”
The chair?
There was no way I was going to let Celia take the chair. “Take the bed. It’s late. You’ve been working every daylight hour and a lot of the ones in darkness, too.”
“You’ve been working just as hard as me. You paid for the room. And I got us into this mess. Anyway, I’m better suited to the chair. I’m used to flying economy on planes. No doubt, you’re up in first class with your big, fancy beds and cashmere blankets.”
I laughed at her assumption—which wasn’t wrong—and also at the way she was being so prim and proper about our sleeping arrangements. We weren’t strangers and we weren’t in the eighteenth century. We were two adults sharing a bedroom. It wasn’t a big deal if she didn’t want it to be. We’d kissed, her infectious enthusiasm for Christmas was burrowing into my heart, and I’d like to kiss her again in the private warmth of our hotel room. Still, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
“Well, how about this for a radical idea: We can both take the bed. It’s a big bed—plenty of room for both of us. If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stay on top of the covers. And we can both stay fully clothed. How about that?” I’d be content with option A, but an option B where neither of us were wearing anything and we were on top of the covers, underneath the covers, against the door, and bent over the bath would work too.
She pulled off her hat and toed off her boots. “I had such a lovely time tonight and now everything’s ruined because of my ninety-year-old car.”
“It’s not ruined,” I said, taking a seat on the bed to unlace my shoes. “The bad can’t undo the good like that. Not unless you let it.”
She sighed like she’d just missed a flight or something. “I’m going to pay you back for the room as soon as I get paid at the end of the month. This is all my fault.”
Of all the things she was worried about, it was how to pay for the room? The look in her eyes made me want to fix things so she didn’t feel bad about anything ever again. I’d go and buy her a new car and the bloody hotel if it made her feel better. “I’d be offended if you offered me money.”
“Really?”
“Well, not offended. But I wouldn’t accept it. This is no one’s fault. And we don’t have to let it ruin a fun evening.”
“You had fun?” Her tone brightened and her eyes lit up. “Sebastian, listen to yourself—you enjoyed yourself. At a Christmas market. I just knew that being in Snowsly during the festive season would change your mind about this time of year.”