Royal Holiday Page 10

He sat down next to her.

“I always have time for Julia’s scones.”

She poured him a cup of tea.

“No milk or sugar in my tea, thank you.” He looked over the tea tray. “I’m surprised Julia didn’t make you any more of those sandwiches you love.”

A smile danced around her lips.

“She did, but between me and the Duke, we ate them all.”

He laughed out loud.

“Knowing the Duke as I do, that does not surprise me.” He looked around. “Are he and the Duchess home? Is your daughter here?”

He had been wondering if her daughter would be here when he came to take her over to the stables. He was curious about Maddie; he knew about her job and her background, obviously—it was part of his job to know that—but not what she was like as a person. All he knew was that she’d insisted on bringing her mother with her to England for Christmas, and at this juncture, he was very grateful to her for that.

She shook her head.

“No, she and the Duchess went into town to go shopping right after lunch. I think the Duke is off with others in the family.”

She’d finished her scone, so he took the last bite of his.

“Well, if they’re all having outings today, I’m pleased you are, too.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

She took his hand and stood up.

“We shall.”

Had she wanted to go shopping instead of going to the stables?

When they got outside, he turned to her.

“I’m sorry if I kept you from a shopping trip in town with your daughter and the Duchess,” he said.

Vivian shook her head.

“No need—they had a very specific mission, and I would have been in the way. Plus, I wouldn’t turn down the chance to visit the Sandringham stables this afternoon for the world.”

He turned to her, his eyebrows raised.

“For the world?” he quoted back to her. That had a good sound to it.

She looked down, but then looked up straight into his eyes, the smile still hovering around her lips.

“When am I ever going to have the chance to do this again?” she asked. “I’ve never been to any stables before in my life, and to get invited to see the stables at Sandringham? I’m thrilled.” She glanced at him and grimaced. “And also slightly terrified.”

He’d assumed that last part, from the look of half wonder, half horror on her face when she’d seen the stables from a distance.

“There’s nothing to be terrified about,” he said. “The horses will be lovely to you, I promise, and so will the staff.”

Would she be open to getting on a horse? Would the stable master give her the chance? For some reason, he was very much hoping she’d be able to have this opportunity.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, you can speak for horses now?”

He nodded seriously.

“The Queen’s horses are monarchists; they would never dare to mistreat a guest of the royal family.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

Chapter Four

Vivian was strangely nervous about this trip to the stables, despite what she’d said to Malcolm. She hadn’t lied to him—she knew there was no way she’d forgive herself if she’d had the option to see the horses of the actual Queen of England and had gone back to America without doing so. But horses had always intimidated her. They were so big and powerful . . . and expensive. Even though it should have been all of the servants and the huge amounts of land and people throwing around royal titles like it was normal, it was when Malcolm had casually pointed out the stables to her that had made her realize what a different kind of life she’d stepped into.

She turned to Malcolm as they walked down the path.

“Is it odd for you, this whole monarchy thing?” When he raised his eyebrows, she shook her head. “Sorry, I know that seems like it came out of nowhere. It’s just that it’s all so foreign to me. The whole idea of having people who, simply by the nature of their birth, get to rule the country, no matter what kind of person they are, is so contrary to everything I know. I understand that ‘rule’ overstates it these days, but you know what I mean. And I get that most British people don’t even think about the monarchy, but you . . .”

“I live it,” he said. “It’s true; unlike most Brits, the monarchy is part of my daily life. And I’m used to it, and I don’t think about it much, except for the times when I do, then it hits me how . . . strange it all is.”

They both laughed, Vivian out of relief more than anything else. She’d been worried that she’d offended him, that she was the loud American, coming in and staying on a royal estate and then spouting off about the people who had brought her here. Thank goodness he wasn’t mad.

“It can be comforting, especially when politics in general is a disaster—at least there’s some permanence in this world. And since politics has been a disaster more than once during my time with Her Majesty, I’m more used to that than the alternative. And I like the whole ritual of it all. My nephew, Miles, always makes fun of how conservative I am”—he winked at her—“with a small c, that is. And I suppose it’s true; I’m a person who tends to like stability, tradition, security.” He laughed. “Miles says I’m a snob, but I prefer to think of it as being wary of taking unnecessary risks. But—especially during times when foreign royals come to visit, and there are other queens and kings around, and they walk together into rooms and there’s a whole procession of people bowing to them—it all feels unbelievably absurd. Even though I’m always one of the people automatically bowing when they walk into a room.”

She could just picture an entire room of people bowing to a person standing at the front of it. The whole idea felt ridiculous.

“Wow. That must be so strange to see. And to do.”

He nodded at her.

“You have no idea.”

He stopped and looked around.

“How in the world did you get me to say all of this, on royal land no less? I’ve kept a stone face about these matters for years. Thank goodness the bulk of the family doesn’t arrive for two more days, otherwise I’d be terrified someone would have heard that ill-considered rant about the institution that keeps me employed.” He peered into her eyes. “Do you have some sort of magic social worker powers, Ms. Forest?”

She looked straight back at him.

“Oh absolutely, I always have. Why did you think I went into social work in the first place?”

He laughed at her and walked on.

“Anyway, no more talk about You Know What for the next hour at least, please. I need to stay employed long enough to finish taking you around the stables.”

He bowed and offered her his arm, and she laughed and took it.

“I have a feeling, Mr. Hudson, that you’re remarkably good at your job, and it would take a great deal for you to lose it.”

He grinned at her.

“You may have a point there. Especially at this time of the year, and with Parliament in chaos once again, in any event,” he said. “But while I don’t plan to stay in this job for the rest of my working life, I do want any decision to leave it to be mine. God save the Queen, et cetera.” He flashed a smile at her, then looked away. “You don’t have much experience in cold weather, do you? You should be wearing a hat.”

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