Christmas at the Castle by Jenny Kane Read Free Book Online

pedigree.’
    â€˜The Burnett family was really powerful in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and over that time they built a timber fortress on the land, but it wasn’t until 1553 that they started to build the stone tower house that’s there now. And even then the construction was delayed due to political problems caused by Mary Queen of Scots, so it was ages until it was finally finished. You wait until you see inside. The painted beams in the Muse’s Room are incredible.’
    As the car turned up the castle driveway, Kit was about to comment on the glorious scenery, but stopped when she saw the cloud that had passed over her friend’s face. ‘You alright, Charlie?’
    â€˜Yes, sorry. I was just thinking.’
    â€˜I’m holding up your writing, aren’t I?’ Feeling guilty about taking up Charlie’s time, when the very reason she wasn’t helping with the festival was because she had so little time left to get her book written, Kit asked, ‘When’s your deadline?’
    â€˜Thirty first of December.’ Charlie smiled, ‘But honestly, you aren’t holding me up.’ She gestured to the right, ‘Here we are.’
    As the castle tower came into view, Kit found herself impressed all over again as she took in the silver glint of the pinky granite walls, just as Cameron came into view on the gravel drive before them.
    â€˜Oh, that’s handy. Cameron can show me where my lodgings are. Alice took my luggage, but she didn’t tell me where I was staying.’
    Not commenting on Alice’s lack of social graces, Charlie said, ‘Then would you mind me being a bit rude, and dropping you off so I can get back? I promise we’ll have a proper catch up soon.’
    â€˜No problem. Good luck with the bookshop guy.’
    With a renewed suspicion that something else was going on with her friend beyond finishing her novel, Kit waved as Charlie’s Micra dashed away.

Chapter Eight
    Tuesday November 24 th
    Telling herself she was doing this for Kit and the festival, not for Alice, Charlie pushed open the door of The Deeside Bookshop.
    Instead of being greeted by John, she was surprised to see a much younger man behind the counter. Having never known the shop without John in it, Charlie was immediately concerned. ‘Um, hello, I wondered if I could speak to John, is he OK?’
    â€˜He’s very OK, thank you. Soaking up the sun in New Zealand, in fact.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Not sure what to do, Charlie decided she’d dive straight in anyway. If John trusted this man to run the shop in his absence, then he must be alright. ‘Could I have a quick chat about the literary festival at Crathes? I know Ms Warren has already approached the shop, but I …’
    The man, who Charlie guessed must be in his late thirties, ran an exasperated hand through his short hair. ‘I already told your colleague, I can’t help. What Ms Warren is asking of me is not cost-effective. Although I wish you luck with the festival, the tactic of sending her prettier colleague to get me to change my mind is not going to work!’
    Prettier colleague? Charlie felt thrown. No one ever thought she was prettier than Alice.
    â€˜I assure you no … tactics are in play. I’m only helping out today because I’m a friend of one of the other organisers, and I have a more sensible and, I think, more realistic proposition for you than Alice did. I will tell you about it if you would like to hear it; if not, I’ll leave you in peace to stare around your customer-free shop!’
    Rather taken aback by the edge to her tone, the tension in Charlie’s shoulders unknotted a little as, to her amazement, the man began to laugh.
    Placing the books he’d been holding on the counter he said, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me for being abrupt. My name is Gervase Potter; I bought John out a few weeks ago. This little empire is now