Countdown To Christmas

By Anna Clarkson

Jonathan Hendrick is not looking forward to Christmas knowing his matchmaking mother has invited her current favourite prospective daughter-in-law to Kinemark Manor for the holidays. Then his secretary came up with an outrageous solution that Jonathan take a totally unsuitable girlfriend home with him, she even had a candidate for him. Jonathan agreed reluctantly, at least he was reluctant until he met Tory.
Artist Tory didn't enjoy Christmas having, as a child, had lost her family in a house fire on Christmas Eve. She preferred to spend the festive season alone, however having met Jonathan she was intrigued by the idea of spending time with him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna Clarkson
• Release date: Dec 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310731686

Anna Clarkson

Anna is English and lives in Oxfordshire within half an hour's drive of her immediate family (except for a niece who with her partner has been exiled to Scotland). Currently single she lives in a household that contains seven cats. Six of them Birmans.Anna has worked as a Civil Servant, in a bank, as a cleaner, a child minder and in retail.When not working or writing Anna is gardening, growing fruit and veg and can thoroughly recommend Salad Blue Potatoes, try serving purple blue mash to your family.

Book preview

Count Down To Christmas

By

Anna Clarkson

Copyright 2013 Anna Clarkson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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The characters and events in this book are completely imaginary they bear no relation to any real person or events.

Chapter One

Damnation." Jonathan Hendrick exclaimed furiously slamming the phone down and glaring across the room. His secretary stared across the desk at him before asking a puzzled note in her voice.

You didn't really want to be in New York on business over Christmas and New Year did you?

Yes I did! I'd rather be anywhere than at Kinemark for Christmas this year. He returned savagely. (Kinemark was Kinemark Hall near Shrewsbury his ancestral home where his parents' and two of his brothers' and their families still lived.

But why for goodness sake? Daphne Walker exclaimed, shocked that anyone wouldn't want to be at home for Christmas. Won't your mother be upset if you aren't there? She questioned, surprise for once overcoming her diffidence about asking her boss personal questions. Jonathan Hendrick while easy to work for had never been one to encourage interest in his private life.

My mother is very busy trying to marry me off again. He admitted exasperation in his voice, as anger betrayed him into indiscretion. In fact the whole family seems to be conspiring to get me married this time. One way or another Christmas looks like turning into a minor species of hell for me this year.

But Lady Hendricks has been trying to do that for years'. Daphne pointed out uncertainly. It never seemed to bother you before. If anything it had always seemed to her that he had been amused by his mother's attempts to find him a wife. But not just any wife, a suitable wife, unfortunately what she considered suitable did not necessarily suit her son.

Yes well before I always had Laurie on my side to take some of the heat off. He reminded her referring to the youngest of his brothers. And last Christmas it wasn't too bad, Laurie and Natalie had only been married six weeks' everybody was busy getting to know her better, but this year! He paused, and Daphne realised he wasn't so much talking to her as thinking aloud.

Now all my brothers' are married and they all have children Mama has only me to concentrate her attention on and I found out yesterday she's invited her present favourite contender for daughter-in-law to stay for Christmas and New Year. Fond as he was of his mother he was clearly angry about this.

What you need to do. Daphne remarked in a meditative voice, staring thoughtfully into space. Is turn up at Kinemark with a totally unsuitable girlfriend, that way you'd have protection from this girl without having to come out and tell your mother to get off your back.

Someone like you I suppose. Jonathan retorted sarcastically, and Daphne flushed scarlet.

I am spending Christmas with my ex-husband and his family. She informed him tightly. And while I'm quite sure your mother would find me unsuitable she would have no trouble putting me in what she considered my place. No I was actually thinking of my neighbour. She had risen to her feet as she spoke and now hurried towards the door.

Daphne! Jonathan called her back urgently, apology in his voice. I'm sorry; I shouldn't take my ill-humour out on you. Why don't you make us both some coffee and tell me what's going on between you and Greg are you getting back together again.

It was already after five and she should really be getting ready to go but she did want to talk to someone, preferably a man, about the situation between herself and her ex-husband. Also she quite liked the idea of sending her neighbour off to confound the Hendricks over Christmas. Lady Hendrick on the few occasions they had met had treated Daphne with a hurtful snobbish disdain. However it was a good twenty minutes before she was able to bring the subject up again.

Why don't you at least consider taking my neighbour to Kinemark for Christmas? She finally asked diffidently. She'll be on her own in the house over the holiday and even if we couldn't persuade her to pretend to be your girlfriend the fact that you had invited her would give your mother something to think about.

I have no doubt if I took your friend, Mama would welcome her with open arms and start planning an Easter wedding. Jonathan retorted.

Not Tory, Lady Hendrick would never consider her a suitable potential daughter-in-law. Daphne told him with relish as she mentally considered her neighbour. That's her name by the way Tory Duchovny.

What's so unsuitable about her? Jonathan asked warily. Apart, that is for the odd name. Daphne paused as she tried to find a way to portray Tory to her boss.

Tory's such a difficult person to describe she's an artist, a painter she's extremely volatile especially when she's working. Between pictures she can become a shadow of her usual self. Daphne paused frowning thoughtfully.

Her family was originally some kind of Russian émigrés I think, probably fleeing from the Russian revolution, and she has some very odd relatives who live in Paris. If you met her you would be able see that your mother would never consider her suitable, not to become a Hendrick. She'd probably go right off the idea of your getting married at all. Daphne finished hopefully.

It's kind of you to think of it. Jonathan told her politely but firmly. But I'm quite sure I can find some less drastic way of getting my mother out of my hair.

There the matter would doubtless have rested but the following week two of Jonathan's sisters-in-law came to stay with him in London for a few days' to do some Christmas shopping. While there they managed to infuriate him by constantly inviting his mother's choice of bride into his home.

Treating her as if she was already a member of the family, suggesting she and Jonathan really should see more of each other and trying to coax him into taking the three of them out too dinner and a show. This Jonathan told them, regretfully and untruthfully, he was unable to do as he already had a date, he hadn't yet, but intended to do something about that as soon as possible.

The moment Daphne arrived in the office, the following day, Jonathan arranged to drive her home after work and meet this eccentric friend of hers. One way or another he was going to make it clear to his family that he had no intention of marrying at the moment. Especially he had no intention of marrying Theresa Bodmin the favourite cousin of his youngest brother's wife.

He was startled at the sight of the house Daphne lived in it was an elegant four storey Georgian house in one of the more fashionable parts of London. Daphne recognised the look on his face; she had seen it before when showing someone her home.

It's split into flats, with another in the basement and then there is the attic which is where Tory lives, and before you ask the rents amazingly low for this part of London. She recited in a flat tone that showed only to clearly that this was not the first time she'd explained all this.

Daphne quickly led the way into the house and up to her flat, and then having provided Jonathan with a cup of tea she ran upstairs to find her neighbour. It was not long before Jonathan could hear her arguing in the hall with someone.

But I don't want to go away for Christmas. An unknown voice came, an unusually classless voice. I'm quite happy by myself. I keep on telling you. I hate Christmas, I really wish you'd listen too me.

You'd love a real old-fashioned English Christmas. Daphne told her determinedly.

No I wouldn't, Christmas is the pits! Returned the other voice decidedly. And anyway why should I want to waste my time with some wimp who's afraid of his mother.

Oh, for goodness sake Tory, Jonathan Hendrick is not a wimp! Come in and meet him and stop being so difficult. Daphne retorted clearly irritated but still determined.

She entered the room at this point, tugging another younger woman behind her. This Jonathan realised must be the promised Tory Duchovny, he was surprised from all Daphne had said he was expecting someone his own age. Tory however must be ten years' younger about twenty-five he guessed, a thin woman of just average height with dark hair twisted untidily around her head. Her face was intense and in repose almost plain, he was to find this changed when she was animated. Oh yes he decided she was plain, thin and at the moment untidy but despite this quite incredibly sexy.

Jonathan had risen to his feet when they entered the room and Tory took the opportunity to look him over in silence ignoring Daphne who was still busily talking at her. He was tall five eleven she estimated his broad shouldered, slim hipped figure shown of perfectly by his sharp Italian suit. His hair was a lovely brown with gleams of red showing whenever the light hit it, his eyes were an attractive blue grey, and he was if anything even better looking than Daphne had described, with a thin clever face.

Arrogant she had said intelligent, self-sufficient, hard working, hard playing and extremely attractive. Well Daphne was right about that Tory thought; her boss was very, very attractive. She ran the tip of her tongue lightly over lips that were suddenly dry; Daphne's stupid idea had just acquired merit in her eyes. It was at this moment that Daphne's words penetrated her mind.

And Mr Hendrick's room at Kinemark Manor has a little dressing room off it so you won't have to share a room, anyway he's not the sort of man who would try too and take advantage of you.

At this Tory's face lit up, she threw back her head and laughed aloud startling Daphne and bringing life and beauty to her own face.

Safe, with him? She laughed again. He's been wondering how to get me into his bed from the moment I walked into the room.

Tory. Daphne exclaimed really shocked. You can't go around saying things like that.

I thought it was to say ‘things like that’ that you suggested I go down to Kinemark Manor as Jonathan's mistress. I may call you Jonathan? She questioned turning to him.

Well nobody would believe you were either my mistress or my girlfriend if you called me Mr Hendrick. Jonathan pointed out his face alive with amusement.

Better still why not call me Jon.

Or Nat. Tory suggested calmly. Why don't we go upstairs to my flat and discuss things properly.

Ignoring Daphne, who by now was having serious doubts about her idea, Tory led him up the narrow stairs into the attic flat and along to her sitting room. Tory's sitting room came as quite a surprise to Jonathan it was incredibly exotic, the walls were covered with a blue and gold patterned material. The same material had been used on the ceiling as well being attached near the tops of the walls and gathered into the centre of the ceiling. The technique, which was called tenting, created an effect that was charming, magnificent and very exotic.

I was expecting a typical artist’s studio. He remarked wryly looking around, there wasn't a painting in sight.

I have one of those. Tory returned coolly. Animation had fallen from her and she was once again the thin plain young woman he'd first seen.

Make yourself at home, I'll fetch some coffee. She said disappearing back the way they had come.

Jonathan seated himself on a vast cushion covered ottoman, it was the only seat in the room and what was more was extremely uncomfortable. He could only guess that Tory usually sat on the floor; there were plenty of floor cushions and even in one corner a beanbag. After a moment Tory appeared in the doorway again.

You came straight from work. She asked abruptly.

Yes. Jonathan answered hesitantly; Tory nodded, frowned and looked irritated.

In that case I suppose I had better cook something. She returned disappearing again.

Jonathan got up with alacrity and followed her to the kitchen, glad to be off the ottoman. We could go out. He suggested hopefully.

Tory considered it for a moment; Jonathan was dressed in a very beautifully cut Italian suit of a fine wool mixture in pale grey and a silk shirt. In sharp contrast to her elderly tracksuit which had started life ivory coloured but turned pale pink in the wash. Tory had just finished doing her housework when Daphne pounced on her and dragged her downstairs to meet her boss.

If we went out I would have to change. She pointed out regretfully. And we can talk in greater privacy here. You're not a vegetarian?

No. Jonathan returned lounging in the doorway.

Tory who far from cooking was rummaging through drawers puzzled him; finally she darted across the room and rescued a small notebook from behind the toaster. She flicked the book open and handed it to him before turning her attention to the more important task of grinding beans to make the coffee. Jonathan glanced down at a list of food and then back up at his hostess.

What is this? He enquired his eyes gleaming, Tory glanced across at him sharply he was clearly laughing at her.

My freezer list. She returned resentfully. You choose what you want and I'll defrost it in the microwave for you.

I thought you said you were going to cook. He retorted with a laugh.

Tory scowled at him and then reluctantly laughed herself she couldn't help herself he had such a gorgeous laugh. It sent warm tingles up and down her spine.

I'm a good cook, a very good cook, but when I'm painting I don't have the time so I keep the freezer filled, it's all home cooked stuff. She explained briefly.

Once Jonathan had made his choice from the dishes listed, Tory wasted no time in defrosting and reheating the food so that within twenty minutes they were seated around the kitchen table having dinner. Jonathan had gone for the Chicken breasts Provencal, while Tory was eating Seafood gumbo.

You really are a good cook. Jonathan complimented over a mouthful of some off the best chicken he'd had in a long time.

If I came to your home for Christmas do I admit to cooking or not. Tory questioned spearing a prawn on her fork.

So you are thinking of coming. Jonathan asked quickly pleasure in his voice.

Y...es, maybe. Tory returned uncertainly, she didn't want to commit herself not yet. But why do you want to ruin your mother's Christmas by taking an unsuitable girlfriend home with you? She'd wondered about this.

Daphne had told her but since Tory had had no intention of being conned into going away with anyone for Christmas she hadn't bothered to listen.

It's not just Mama, it's the entire family. He explained irritation clear in his voice. "I have four brothers they are all married and they all have children, even Laurie who has only