Destination Christmas

 Destination Christmas - by Leslie Johnson

Last year, Maggie had entered a contest to spend Christmas in a Scottish Castle. With a passion for the British Isles, Maggie subscribed to a publication on British tourism. She had seen the advertisement from Inverlochy Castle just outside Fort William, Scotland for years. Unfortunately, it was out of her price range. But after COVID – businesses were looking for ways to bring back clientele. She entered the contest and never thought anymore about it until she received the phone call saying she had won.  Since it was a trip for two and Maggie was currently in a state of unwedded bliss, she took her younger sister Carole with her.

They flew over on the twenty-third of December, landing in Scotland the morning of Christmas Eve.  Arriving at the castle, the sisters checked the list of activities planned. Guests could make their own gingerbread houses for judging on Christmas Night. There was an hourly shuttle to the ski hill where guests could go snowshoeing, skiing or snowboarding. There was a games room with a billiard table, and several assorted board games and a large jigsaw puzzle started but not finished. Across the hall was a library filled with comfortable chairs and books to satisfy any reader’s taste. The girls dressed warmly and went for a walk around the grounds to keep the jet lag at bay. At six, dressed in their best Christmas finery they made their way to the Great Hall where they enjoyed a champagne reception.

That’s when Maggie noticed him.  He stood across the room, near one of the two fireplaces. He seemed to be alone, but Maggie couldn’t be sure – there were nearly twenty-five people in the room, many couples but there were more women than men. Her heart sank when she saw him talking with some familiarity to a gorgeous brunette in a form fitting royal blue wrap dress. He must be married. 

As Maggie adjusted her dress over her ample curves, she assuaged her disappointment by telling herself that she wasn’t there to find a husband – she would just enjoy the supper and she couldn’t wait to see Father Christmas as he bestowed each guest with a champagne cocktail and a small gift on Christmas morning. She was looking forward to it all.

After the welcoming speech, the group moved into the large dining room.  It also boasted two fireplaces, a long table, elegantly set with crystal and china. They found their name tags and sat down.  Maggie looked to her left and noticed she was sitting next to a Beatrice Sharp and to her right…she saw masculine hand reaching for the back of the chair and she looked up into his face.  She blushed and looked back at her plate. It was the man from the fireplace.

Once the man was seated, he leaned over and introduced himself. “I’m Hamish McGregor. And I see you are Maggie Templeton. Please to meet you.”

Maggie nearly swooned as she looked into his warm brown eyes. They twinkled with merriment and mischief and she knew she was a goner. The night faded into a filmy and gauzy dream, the live music, the caroling, the dancing. Hamish never left her side that night, nor during the days that followed. Hamish made sure Carole was included in their activities, though to her credit, Carole often begged off to spend time with a group of widows she had befriended. When the sisters flew home to Canada on January first, Hamish and Maggie were madly in love.

For the next year, they called each other and flew back and forth a few times.  It was a whirlwind of getting to know one another and making decisions about the future. On the twenty-fourth of December, they met again at Inverlochy Castle.

Later that night in their beautifully decorated room, Maggie watched Hamish try to relight the fire in the gorgeous stone fireplace. Looking at his broad shoulders, his wispy brown hair with silver threads beginning to appear, she thought herself the luckiest woman alive. A moment later, she said, “I think you should call someone. You don’t know what you’re doing.” She pulled the covers of the oversize four-poster bed up a little higher, trying to stay warm.

“I was a boy scout.” Hamish countered. Then he shivered loudly and stood up. “You might be right, though. I can’t seem to get it to draw.” He crossed the room and climbed under the covers bringing cold air with him. Maggie moved away but Hamish pulled her back. “Come on, I need your warmth.”  She let him pull her to his side and they lay there looking into each other’s eyes.

The day was coming to an end – a fairy tale wedding in the Great Room where Hamish had first noticed Maggie, where he had asked his friend, the hotel manager to make sure he was seated next to the lovely lady in the plum-colored dress, where Maggie had noticed him and wondered… It was the perfect way to start their marriage. Perfect, even if the fireplace had gone cold because Maggie could wrap herself in the arms of the man she loved.

Christmas in a Scottish Castle – Maggie whispered a soft thank you to the fates that had brought her here and brought this man into her life. Then she pressed her lips to his as the clock chimed the hour. Soon Father Christmas would come with champagne and a little gift. She could hardly wait.