“Nancy never liked the mother, though, did she?” Moira shook her head. “She’s taking a big chance on them.”
“I think she’s trying to find a way to keep Anna onside and earn enough money to get this place fixed and up and running. What do you think?” Nate asked, jumping down to admire his handiwork.
“I think she should be careful who she chooses to work with,” Moira said, still looking out the window.
“About the canopy,” Nate clarified, and Moira and Cyb both turned to see.
Cyb clapped her hands together, letting the door bang shut. “Oh, Nate! It’s perfect!”
“It looks lovely,” his gran agreed, and Nate allowed himself a sigh of relief.
“Thank God for that, because I’m not getting back up there. That bedside table is not safe.”
A noise in the corridor made them all stop. “Was that...?” Moira whispered, and Nate shrugged.
Cyb pushed the door open just an inch and peeked out, then pulled her head back and nodded violently. “They’ve just gone into the Blue Room at the end of the corridor.”
Nate looked at all the bits and bobs they still had strewn across the bed and came to a decision. “Okay, you two run for it.” When both women hesitated, Nate went on, “At least I’m actually employed here. You two have no excuse.”
Moira nodded and grabbed her friend’s arm. “Come on, Cyb.” Then they ran.
That Nate managed to get all the tools, fabric swatches and carrier bags stowed away under the bed before Carrie and her guests reached the bridal suite was, he felt, quite an achievement in itself. The look on Carrie’s face when she found him there suggested she didn’t appreciate the effort.
“Nate,” she said, her voice chilly. “Anna, Ruth, Aunt Selena, this is our gardener and handyman, Nathanial Green.” Her attention went straight back to her clipboard, but Nate decided to put off figuring out why she was avoiding his eyes until later.
Instead, he smiled a welcome. “Just checking on the room, ready for your visit,” he told them. The prospective bride to be gave him a wide, beaming grin, which made him feel more uncomfortable than anything else.
But then she flashed that same, wicked smile at Carrie, and Nate could see the obvious affection she had for Carrie in that glance. “Isn’t it wonderful, Mum?” Ruth said, obviously trying to win Selena over for Carrie, and Nate started to think maybe Gran was wrong about her.
He’d almost managed to slip out the door before Carrie noticed the changes to the room, but not quite. As the mother, Selena, said, “Well, the bed is quite impressive, I suppose,” Carrie looked up from her list in confusion and stared at the huge four-poster bed decked out in white lace and linen and looking most inviting.
“It’s gorgeous,” Ruth said, before draping herself across it like she owned it. Nate hid a grin. He’d known the bed would be a big incentive for any bride. Or groom, for that matter.
Where was the groom, anyway? Jacob was going to be miffed if he was cooking duck with berry reduction for no reason.
“Yes, it’s one of my favorite features,” Carrie said, getting a grip on the situation. Her eyes met his, finally, with a hint of confusion but also thanks, before they slid away again. Nate watched as she gazed around the room, obviously taking in the changes. The others were more subtle, but the matching dressing table with antique silver hairbrush and mirror set, and the irises in the pewter vase on the windowsill, all detracted from the hideous carpet and hurriedly painted walls with the wallpaper showing through. Cyb had even managed to rustle up some new curtains from somewhere. They were thick and heavy and fully lined, but the paler pattern still managed to lighten up the room.
Nate had learned more about interior design in the past two weeks than he’d ever expected to know.
Selena slipped past him to inspect the bathroom, where at least the suite was white, even if the tiles were turquoise. Still, she didn’t seem completely displeased when she came out.
“This might actually do,” she said, sounding surprised, and Nate thought he could see some of the lines in Carrie’s forehead fade.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said, before casually gathering the other women up somehow and shepherding them toward the doorway. Nate watched closely and still wasn’t sure how she did it. “Why don’t you three head downstairs. You can have a chat about whether these rooms will fit your needs. I just need a quick word with Nate, then I’ll meet you in the lobby so we can go through to look at the reception rooms and talk about the menus.”
As the door shut behind them, Nate heard Ruth saying quite firmly, “I am sleeping in that bed on my wedding night.”
Carrie looked at him in silence after they’d gone, long enough for Nate to begin to feel uncomfortable before she finally spoke. “You know, you’ve ruined my big finish.”
“Oh?” It helped that Carrie’s conversational style took after her grandmother’s, he thought. If he hadn’t known Nancy, he might think his new boss was cross with him.
“Yes. I started them up here so we could work up to the dining room, which was the only room that looked halfway decent. I thought a big finish might make them forget how dreadful the bridal suite was.” She smiled, finally. “Now, all Ruth’s going to be thinking about is deflowering poor Graeme on that wonderful bed. Wherever did you find it? All of this?”
Nate shrugged. “I had help.”
“The Seniors?”
“The bed belonged to Cyb’s brother-in-law. It’s been sitting in storage since he died six years ago, because no one had a room big enough for it.” Nate reached out and ran a finger down the carving on the bedpost. “Bless her, she only remembered about it yesterday. But she’s spoken with her nephews and nieces, and harangued them into donating it to the inn. You might have to give them a couple of free nights stay, though.”
“Happily,” Carrie said, staring up at the canopy. “But I’m telling you now, I’m having a night in this bed. Soon.”
Nate’s mind filled with a number of very inappropriate visions of Carrie Archer spread out across Cyb’s brother-in-law’s bed, red hair tousled on the white sheets, eyes as full of longing as
they were when she looked at it. She was his boss, he reminded himself, and besides, she only looked like that because she hadn’t slept in about a fortnight.
Before he had a chance to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat and find his voice, Carrie sighed and looked away, her eyes just tired again. “I’d better go and catch them up,” she said, turning to the door. “I don’t want to leave Anna and Selena alone together for too long.”
Nate nodded and, as she left, finally found enough voice to call after her, “Stop by and let me know how it all goes, later.” If you’re not already enjoying the bed, he added silently.
No matter how tired he was, Nate was pretty sure sleep was going to be hard to come by that night, alone in the drafty summerhouse, imagining Carrie up here in the wooden four-poster.
Chapter 5
Apparently, ‘wait in the lobby’ was too confusing an instruction for Carrie’s guests. “They went through to the dining room,” Izzie told her as she arrived in reception. Carrie didn’t bother asking why Izzie hadn’t stopped them; she just sighed and headed toward the double doors. That was the problem with family. They thought they had free rein to wander through her life, causing havoc.
The dining room at least looked functional as a reception space, but she’d hoped to have a chance to talk up all the improvements they had planned before they actually saw it. She’d just have to hope the lure of a really great bed would be enough for Ruth to sweet talk her mother into the booking.
But once she stepped through into the dining room, Carrie saw why they couldn’t wait. When she’d last checked the room, in the early hours of that morning, the tables had been laid with plain white cloths, the chairs draped with covers. It distracted, a little, from the purple and green paisley carpet. Not to mention the matching curtains hanging over the eight windows around two walls of the room. But it wasn’t exactly inspiring.
But now...
Pale lilac and white blooms tempered the vibrant pink of Nate’s bargain flowers, arranged in a mismatched collection of cut-glass vases. Over the plain white cloths Carrie had found for the tables, someone had laid lace cloths, yellowing with age, each one slightly different. And at each place-setting, instead of the full set of plain white china she’d intended, was a teacup and saucer on top of a side plate. The range of patterns in the china was phenomenal. Ditsy floral prints, willow pattern, art deco designs–and Carrie was almost willing to bet that not one single piece matched another that paired it.