Page 71 of A Very Irish Christmas
His eyes widen when he sees it – they’re probably dazzled – but he quickly recovers and puts it on, managing to find a way to let it hang around his pyjama shirt.
‘I love it,’ he declares convincingly. ‘I’ve never felt more chic!’
‘Count yourself lucky,’ I reply, laughing. ‘My dad’s getting a dickie bow!’
The gifts continue to flow, Georgie exclaiming that every single one of hers is exactly what she wanted, until eventually, Charles hands me a jewellery box. I have a moment of concern, worried at what I might find inside – and hoping that he hasn’t done anything extravagant.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says, a glint in his eyes telling me he has successfully read my mind, ‘this is from all of us. And it did come from inside the house.’
I feel all of them watching me as I open the ribbon on the box, and gasp out loud when I see a beautiful pair of drop earrings. I take one out and hold it up to the light, admiring the way the emerald green of the stones shimmers.
‘I love them!’ I say, delighted. ‘But… they’re not real, are they?’
The gems are enormous, the setting is antique gold, and they’re possibly the most beautiful things I’ve ever held in real life.
‘Of course they are!’ pronounces Allegra. ‘Do I look like the kind of woman who wears paste, darling?’
I glance over at her, in her tie-dye T-shirt and peacock robe, now complemented by the careful positioning of an enormous Guinness hat on top of her head.
‘Umm… right now, yes? But seriously, I can’t accept these. They must be worth a fortune!’
‘They’re worth no more than you deserve, dear,’ she says seriously. ‘And that’s the last I’ll hear of it. I have all sorts sitting in my jewellery case, and I’m unlikely to use most of it. I might sell it all off, and go on a world cruise!’
I’m still protesting when Charles reaches out, and takes my hand.
‘Stop arguing,’ he says simply. ‘And put them on.’
I meet his eyes, moved by the sincerity I see there, and do as I am told.
‘There,’ he says, leaning back and looking satisfied. ‘Perfect. Now, can I read my newspaper in peace, Georgie? Or will you be a pain all the way through until lunch is served?’
‘At a guess, yes, I will,’ she snipes back. ‘Merry Christmas!’
I sit and look on as they bicker good-humouredly, as Allegra eats her chocolates, and Roberts stokes the fire.
I love them all, I realise, feeling tears come to my eyes. I love their kindness, and their resilience, and their crazy English quirks. I love this house, and the estate, and the village. I love everything about being here, and I have been made so welcome. It would be so easy to stay. So easy to picture myself with these people forever – sharing in their triumphs and their losses, their ups and downs. So easy to relax into this life, this family.
Except, I realise, it wouldn’t be right. I’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons, and I’d be living a lie. I touch the dangling earrings, and suddenly know that although I will keep them and treasure them, I cannot accept any more from them. I cannot accept what Charles has offered – I care about him, about all of them, too much to do that. Charles wants more than I can give, and it is not fair to keep him in the dark about that, even for one more day.
I’m here, with them physically, but I have to face the truth. I’ve been trying to hide it away, even from myself, but something about the purity of this Christmas scene makes that impossible to do for even a minute longer. I’m here, but my heart is still in Ireland. Still with Ryan.
‘I’m… I’m just going to find Eejit,’ I say, rising to my feet unsteadily and leaving the room. I feel overwhelmed, shaky both physically and emotionally. I sit on the bottom of the stairs and take a few deep breaths.
I don’t know why this feeling has suddenly and spectacularly turned up on the scene, but I cannot fight it. All the time I was sitting there with them, I was waiting for my phone to ping. Waiting for Ryan to reply to my message. Like a besotted teenager, all I can think about is him – my handsome, charming, damaged playboy.
I can’t stay here, because I cannot give Charles what another man already owns. I hate myself for it, for being such a fool, but I can’t help it. Whatever Ryan feels about me, I know that I am in love with him – and that is a terrifying and powerful thing.
‘Are you okay?’ Charles says, appearing in front of me. He looks concerned and serious, despite his stupid tie. Life would be so much simpler if I could fall for this man instead, I think – but it wouldn’t be fair to even try. He deserves better. He deserves someone who feels about him the way I feel about Ryan.
I stand up, and give him a quick hug.
‘Not really. Charles, I can’t stay for lunch. I think Eejit and I will walk back to the village.’
‘Why? Is everything all right? Have I done something wrong?’
I smile at him, and say: ‘Not a single thing, Charles. I just… I can’t. The thing you asked me in Oxford? About staying here, with you? I can’t do that. I’m so sorry.’
I see a flash of hurt cross his face, but as ever he reins it in with supreme control.
