Free Sealed with a Christmas Kiss by Rachael Lucas

place looking like this she’d go mad.
    Hang on. Kate had been standing in the hall for a few moments now, and there was no welcoming shout from the study, or any sign of life at all. Perhaps Roddy had taken her at her word, and
decided it was over. She felt another wave of sick-feeling wash over her, but this time it wasn’t the hangover. Why on earth hadn’t she stopped to talk to him, instead of just storming
off? She tentatively opened the sitting-room door, hoping to see him sprawled across the sofa, long legs stretching towards the fire – but no, the room was empty and the fire hadn’t
been lit.
    She peeked around the door into the library, hoping he might be working at his desk, headphones on, but again no. The desk looked just as it had last night when she’d walked out.
    A sudden swoop of panic hit Kate, a long-forgotten childhood fear. She ran her fingers along the green leather of Roddy’s desk, remembering how, after her dad had died, she’d sneak
into his study and sit at his desk, eyes scrunched closed, hoping that if she opened them again he’d magically reappear. So much of her old pre-island life had been coloured by her fear of
the unknown, by staying safe. She’d pottered along in a boring relationship for five long years because she was frightened of being alone. And now here she was, having proved to herself that
she could strike out, find a new life for herself, and end up living in a bloody castle into the bargain.
    There was just one slight technical hitch – she’d come back to apologize, but there was nobody to say sorry to. Roddy was nowhere to be seen. She slipped out of the study, deciding
she’d check upstairs.
    Kate had made a complete circuit of the square corridor upstairs, but there was still no sign of Roddy – or the dogs, for that matter – anywhere. There was nothing
worse than having an apology all ready, and nobody there to hear it. She trudged downstairs, feeling utterly miserable. Boxes were piled in the hall – the extra Christmas decorations
she’d ordered for the wedding must have arrived. She felt her shoulders slump a bit lower. This was awful. She plugged her phone into the charger, hoping for a message.
    Perhaps if she put the kettle on, it’d give her a chance to think. It’d certainly help with the seasick hangover feeling, if nothing else. She opened the kitchen door, and took a
breath of surprise.
    The table was laid beautifully for two. A rocket and watercress salad had wilted in an Emma Bridgewater dish, a bottle of posh red with the cork removed sitting on the dresser. One glass sat on
the table, another beside the sink – on closer inspection, Kate realized half the bottle was missing. She opened the fridge. Inside were dishes full of food, covered with cling film. Guilt
had settled in nicely beside the hangover, giving her a double whammy effect. She took out the milk, deciding the only answer was tea. Five minutes later, having drunk a miserable cup whilst
staring out the window, she decided perhaps it was better to try and find him sooner than later.
    She stood in the courtyard for a second, wrapping her coat tightly against the bitter wind blowing up from the sea. This winter had been so much colder than last year. She
heard a bang, and realized instantly where she’d find Roddy.
    He was chopping wood in the log shed, banging furiously with the axe, muttering to himself. He cracked through a thick log, splitting it in two. Kate stood behind him, watching him work for a
second, bracing herself.
    Sensing he was being watched, Roddy turned around.
    ‘Where the
hell
have you been?’ His face was thunderous.
    ‘I was drinking wine with Susan – I’m—’ she began, but he threw the axe down on the floor, stopping her mid-sentence. It landed with a soft thud on the earth, and
then there was silence.
    ‘You disappeared without even a word. I’ve left about fifteen messages on your bloody phone—’
    ‘It’s dead – I