Vivian shook her head.
“No allergies here, and I’m sure anything you make will be wonderful.”
She’d rather die before she told this nice woman what not to cook in her own kitchen. That might mean she’d get some unrecognizable food while she was here, but she could live with that. She smiled to herself; this whole having a chef cook your meals thing was more complicated than she thought it would be.
“So, Ms. Forest,” he said. She seriously couldn’t remember the last time someone had called her “Ms. Forest” this much. Maybe the last time she’d done career day at a high school? “Enjoying your time in the U.K. so far?”
She laughed.
“Absolutely, but my time in the U.K. so far has just been Heathrow Airport, the inside of a car, and this house. We just got in last night and came straight here.”
Julia refilled Vivian’s coffee cup.
“Oh no, that will never do. Ms. Forest needs a tour of the Sandringham Estate. Don’t you think so, Malcolm?” Julia looked up at Malcolm with a twinkle in her eye.
Vivian shook her head.
“Please, don’t feel like you have to—”
He grinned at her, then at Julia.
“Julia has a point. We can’t have you thinking all of the country is like Heathrow Airport. I’d love to give you a tour of the estate. Unless you had other plans for this morning?”
She shook her head again.
“I didn’t, and I’d love a tour, but are you sure you have time? Your . . . boss doesn’t need you?”
He reached for a napkin and wrapped up two more scones.
“We meet in the mornings; she rarely goes off schedule.”
Julia smiled at Vivian.
“Ms. Forest, lunch is at one o’clock, but feel free to drop in if you need another snack in the meantime, though one of those scones in my good napkin had better be for you.”
Malcolm lifted his hands, one of which was holding on to the napkin-wrapped scones.
“Both of them can be for her if she wants! Ms. Forest is from California; she isn’t used to the damp air here. She’ll need something to warm her up.”
Julia laughed and turned away from him. She pressed some button in the corner of the room.
“Gregory, can you please bring Ms. Forest’s coat to the kitchen? Thank you.”
Thirty seconds later, her driver from the night before delivered her coat and scarf to the kitchen.
“Are you ready, Ms. Forest?” Hot Chocolate / Malcolm Hudson asked.
She’d just come downstairs for coffee, and now she was going on a tour around Sandringham with the Queen’s Private Secretary? Who happened to be a really attractive black man? England was treating her well so far.
“Lead the way,” she said.
Photo by Andrea Scher
JASMINE GUILLORY is the New York Times bestselling author of five romance novels, including The Wedding Date and The Proposal. Her work has appeared in Real Simple, Cosmopolitan, and O, The Oprah Magazine. She lives in Oakland, California.
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