Sigh. Being a Duchess can be such a bore.
I have my head deep into the huge commercial refrigerator trying to decide if I want some of the rare roast beef or the crème brulee. Or maybe both.
“Well, hello, Your Grace,” Deena says behind me. I pull my head out of the fridge and smile. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asks, one brow raised.
“I was just trying to decide between the roast beef and the crème brulee,” I answer. “Maybe not the most nutritional of choices, but wow, so good.”
She smiles. “You set yourself down at the table and let me get you a little meal. No need to make choices about such things.”
I do as she says and get comfortable at the big kitchen table while she hustles around the kitchen.
“His Grace says he intends to stay for a bit while the estate issues are handled?” she asks as she slices a pile of the roast beef.
“Yes, I think we’ll be staying for a while longer.”
She nods and goes to the pantry to pull out the most perfect fluffy hoagie roll the world has ever seen.
“I’m happy. It will be so nice to have a chance to know you better. I wasn’t sure if you’d always be accompanying His Grace when he spends time here.” She glances at me and I can tell she knows that Win and I have an understanding and this marriage has an expiration date. That annoying little ache in my chest flares. All we’ve discussed is that I’ll stay a bit longer here with him. We still haven’t mentioned a moment beyond the next few weeks. We’re sleeping together, we’re married, but he hasn’t said he wants the future to change. That future means a quiet divorce, and a return to our regular lives.
I give myself a little mental shake. As if it would ever work between Win and me. I’m not Duchess material, and we both know it. His world means jetting back and forth across the ocean every few months, running two big businesses, and eventually producing the next Duke—or Duchess. My life means spinning discs and Sunday dinners with my working-class Irish-American family. My ancestors cleaned house for Winston’s. You don’t make a girl like me your Duchess, even in the twenty-first century.
“I’m excited to really see London, and learn more about the Duke’s businesses,” I tell her diplomatically, not addressing the issue of whether I’ll ever be back again.
She sets a plate in front of me and I sigh in delight. There’s a gorgeous roast beef sandwich with au jus sauce to dip it in. A small salad of mixed greens and cherry tomatoes, some thick sliced fries—chips, as they say here—and a cup of that fabulous crème brulee.
“Deena,” I say with gratitude. “You wouldn’t want to come back to the US with us, would you? I could really use a lunch like this every day.”
“Oh, get on with you,” she scoffs. “You have all those fancy restaurants in Chicago. I’m sure His Grace keeps you well fed.”
I nearly choke on my food as an image of what Winston would probably offer if he heard I was hungry. My cheeks heat and I take a quick drink of the cold lemonade Deena’s provided.
“What’s your life like there in the States?” Deena asks. “His grandfather never spoke much about His Grace. Mostly, the old Duke complained that His Grace bought an entire hockey team in Chicago.” She finishes wiping down the countertop and comes to sit in the chair across from me. “Oh, the old Duke was furious when that happened. Said his grandson was an imbecile and he’d lose his shirt on an American sports team.” She stops suddenly, looking chagrined. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I shouldn’t have repeated that.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry, from everything Win’s told me, his grandfather’s thoughts weren’t any secret. But honestly, you should see everything he’s done with the team.” I grow enthusiastic because The Norsemen are one of my favorite subjects, and finally something I know more about than everyone here.
“He’s made some really smart upgrades to the facility and started a public relations program sending the players out into the community. They’ve never had a regular service program before, but now they’re all over town getting to know people, and it’s really had an impact on attendance. Everyone wants season tickets to the games these days.”
Deena looks impressed. “Well, isn’t that a marvelous thing.”
“You should see the games,” I continue. “It’s like a total entertainment experience. We have local teams of school kids come play a ten-minute warm-up game, then I spin some tunes for a five-minute dance party to get everyone in the right frame of mind. Between periods, we show short films of things people are doing around Chicago. Winston pays film students at Chicago University to make the movies. The Norsemen are the heart of Chicago. Everyone loves them.”
I see Deena’s gaze dart over my shoulder. “Oh! Your Grace,” she says, standing and beginning to fuss around the kitchen. “I was just hearing all about your hockey team. It sounds so wonderful, the things you’ve done with them.”
I turn to see Win standing at the bottom of the back staircase that ends up here in the kitchen. He has the oddest look on his face, almost like he’s just been given a big surprise.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks with a soft smile.
“Yes.” I turn to Deena, who’s beaming at the two of us. “Thank you so much for the lunch. It was delicious.”
“Of course,” she says warmly. “It’s my pleasure.”
Win takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, but keeps stealing these glances at me.
“What?” I finally ask in exasperation.
He stops on the sidewalk in front of the house and faces me. “Did you mean all those things you were saying about the team?”
I blink in confusion. “Of course.”
“So you noticed all that—the new programs and the changes I’ve made?”
“Well, yeah.” My tone conveys duh, dude. “It’s hard not to notice, you’ve changed the whole feeling of the team. Everyone’s noticed.”
He blinks at me and then reaches up and brushes a curl behind my ear. “You’re truly remarkable.” His voice is so soft, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself rather than me.
“It’s not remarkable to notice when someone’s working hard and doing good things.”
“It is in my family,” he tells me before leaning down and kissing me firmly on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are serious, but he’s grinning. “Now, get ready, because the car’s here.”
I turn around to find myself looking at something low, lean and fast, and when Murdoch gets out, he tosses the keys to Winston with a cheeky grin. “Enjoy your afternoon, Your Graces,” he says before walking back into the house.
“You’re driving?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.
“I am,” he tells me, opening the passenger side door and gesturing for me to climb in.
“Do I get a turn?” I ask as I slide across buttery smooth leather.
He laughs before leaning down and stealing one last kiss. “Not a chance, Your Grace.” Then he shuts the door in my face.
36
Winston
If I were pressed to say where I grew up, I’d have to answer, “boarding schools.” I had nannies until I was ten, and they would travel with me when I spent holidays at my grandfather’s estate. My mother was gone often, but the nannies kept the house running in her absence. At ten, I went to boarding school for the first time, and there I stayed, except for holidays at my grandfather’s.
At thirteen, I entered Eton and remained until I went to university. But Eton is less than an hour from London by train, so when we could steal away on weekends, we’d take ourselves to the capital city and get into as much trouble as we dared. Over the years, London became the closest thing to a hometown I had. I used my mother’s house instead of my grandfather’s when I needed a place to stay, but even then, I stayed with her as little as possible, renting flats with friends during school holidays and between military tours.
I’ve crawled around every corner of London at one point or another, and I
became inured to its charms long ago. But showing London to Kat has changed all of that. She brings the same unrestrained joy to a day of sightseeing that she does to everything else. I see London through her eyes, and I have to admit, I find myself falling in love with my own hometown. And possibly, a bit with Kat, as well.
“Oh!” She jumps up and down like a small child. “Look! It’s the guys with the big black hats!”
I chuckle as she points at the famous Queen’s Guard who are standing outside Buckingham Palace.
“They’re there night and day, no matter the weather,” I tell her.
She eyes them carefully, walking up and down the sidewalk in front of the fence to get a better look at them. “They look exactly like they do on TV,” she informs me.
“I suppose so.” I’ve honestly never thought about it, but I’ll take her word for it.
“Is it true that they won’t break focus no matter what?”
“Well, if someone rushed them with a gun they’d do what they needed to protect the grounds. And they have procedures to follow when they’re being bothered or threatened.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “But they won’t talk or look at you no matter how much you try to distract them?”
“I guess. I’ve certainly never seen them flinch,” I tell her, a warning flare going off in my head. “But I think it’s best not to test them. They have an important job to do. They’re soldiers, even if their outfits are more charming than camouflage.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs, continuing to walk along the fence and inspect them with an eagle eye.
“Let’s go, shall we?” I say, hoping she’ll be distracted. “We can still make high tea at the Albert and Victoria. I know you’ll love it.”
She turns to glance at me, then grins, and looks back at the Queen’s Guard before reaching down, lifting her top, and flashing them. I hear someone walking by exclaim, “Bloody crazy Americans,” and then I’m in front of her, covering her from view and yanking down her stretchy top.
“What the hell are you doing?” I grit out as I look over my shoulder at the armed guards who could arrest us. The closest one’s lips twitch but he doesn’t lose control. Then I see him wink, and Kat begins to laugh.
I wrap an arm around her and maneuver her down the sidewalk, away from the palace as fast as I can.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” I lecture. “What if they’d arrested you?”
She smiles and looks up at me. “I got him to wink,” she says, voice full of pride.
I gaze down at her sparkling brown eyes and that mischievous grin, and I can’t help myself, I burst into laughter. Gut rolling guffaws like I haven’t experienced since I was a small child. Kat giggles along with me as we make our way down the sidewalk, people around us staring like we’ve gone complete crazy.
And maybe we have. Or maybe Kat’s always been crazy, and I’ve just joined her. But as I sling an arm around her slim shoulders and pull her in for a kiss on the temple while I move us down the sidewalk, the smile on my face stays stuck. And then and there, I realize that being crazy with her is someplace I’d like to be for a very long time.
* * *
Given that I’m in England and my family is all here, as well, I shouldn’t be surprised when we return home after a day of sightseeing, eating, and drinking, to discover my cousin encamped in the study and my mother pacing the foyer.
“Winston!” she exclaims as I enter the house right behind Kat. Mother doesn’t even spare Kat a glance before she’s on me, nattering away, digging her talons into my arm at the same time. “David is here.” Her voice is a hiss as she gestures toward the study. “He’s brought legal documents challenging the will. He wanted to deliver them in person.”
I glance over at Kat, who gives me a sympathetic look. All the joy I felt this afternoon fizzles out of me like air from a leaking tire.
“That’s fine,” I tell my mother. “He can file and deliver all the papers he wants, it won’t change a thing. I’m the rightful heir, I meet the conditions of the will, and he can’t change that.”
“Winston,” mother grits, casting a disgusted look at Kat. “Everyone in town is talking about it. You bought a bride. It’s not a real marriage.”
That’s when I finally lose my cool. “And what exactly makes it real, Mum? That we had a ceremony? We did. Or maybe that it’s filed with a government office? It is. That we live in the same house? We are. Would you like pictures of us fucking? Because I can provide those, as well.”
My mother gasps in feigned horror. “Winston!”
“Oh please,” I snap. “You think I don’t know about those photos of you and Baron Von Wilheld from 2006? Everyone’s known about those photos for years, so don’t go acting the proper mother now, you’re much too late.”
She glares at me, and I hear a choking noise from Kat, but before I can see if she’s laughing, crying, or ready to kill me, David saunters out of the study.
“Well, welcome home, cousin,” he says with a sneer. “I was beginning to fear you’d left the country. Run back to your little hockey team in the States.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. He flinches but doesn’t back down. “I won’t be going back until I’ve put an end to your ridiculous challenges to Grandfather’s will. You want a war, David, I’m happy to give you one.”
He sneers some more, like a cartoon villain, then reaches into his inside coat pocket and extracts an envelope.
“Then consider this my declaration of it, cousin,” he replies smugly before handing me the packet of papers. “I’ll see you in court.” He spins on his heel and marches out the front door of the Ducal home. My home now.
“Oh, dear God,” my mother wails dramatically. “What are we going to do now?”
I take her by the elbow, and not so gently move her to the front door. “We aren’t going to do anything, Mum. You are going to go home, pack a bag for St Tropez or the Algarve, and go on about your life. I am going to instruct my lawyers to answer whatever nonsense David has cooked up, and when that’s out of the way, I’m going to get back to my life.”
“In America, I suppose?” she asks. “Leaving David here to manipulate the family coffers until there’s nothing left.”
“Mum, you have less faith in me than even I thought.” I open the door and steer her through it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a glass of scotch to drink and a wife to take to bed.”
After I close the door and turn back to the foyer, I find Kat looking at me with a knowing smile. “You handled that very well,” she says, pushing off the wall and gliding toward me.
I move to meet her in the center of the room. “You think so, do you?” I pull her into my arms.
“It was very Ducal,” she murmurs, brushing a wayward lock of hair off my forehead.
“Well…” I nuzzle the side of her neck. “I am the Duke, after all.”
She moans as I nip at her earlobe. “Yes.” She sighs. “You’re all Duke.”
I chuckle before scooping her into my arms and starting up the stairs. “Let me introduce you to some of my Ducal assets,” I tell her on the way to the bedroom. “We have some of the biggest assets in the land.”
Her peals of laughter ring out against the hard surfaces of the grand foyer, and all I can think is that this house has never sounded more like a home.
* * *
“They’re going to use immigration laws as the foundation for the argument,” Diego tells me as I sit in a video conference with him and my grandfather’s lawyer. “Just as you must demonstrate a marriage made in good faith in order to qualify for citizenship by marriage, they’re arguing you need to demonstrate a marriage made in good faith to qualify for your inheritance.”
I look at the lawyer who put together my grandfather’s will. “Can they get any traction with that argument?”
He scratches his head and looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. He’s in an uncomfortable place at the moment because, while he’s the one who could argue
the conditions of the will weren’t being met, he’s also on retainer to the Duke of Surrey. At the moment, that’s me.
“There’s no precedent for it in law, but it’s not an entirely meritless argument.”
I know he’s partly pissed because I neglected to tell him the details of my marriage like I did everyone else.
“And what do you think? Have I violated the terms of my grandfather’s will?” I ask point blank. I want him put on the spot, and I want it done in front of Diego as a witness.
He sighs. “As much as I know this wasn’t what your grandfather had in mind, I don’t think that it legally violates the terms of the will.”
“So you won’t side with David?”
He shoots me a look that says he doesn’t appreciate my pressure. I shrug. We’re talking a company and approximately one point two billion pounds in assets. I’m not going to back down out of politeness.
“I will not support the argument that your marriage isn’t legitimate with regards to the will.”
I look to Diego’s face on the screen. “It appears all we can do now is wait to see if David can convince the courts to intervene.”
Diego nods. “And I’m on the other issue,” he says, referring to the source of the leak in my Chicago offices. When Diego found out what had happened, he was even more furious than I was. I may not even need to exact revenge. I’m not sure there will be anything left of the perpetrator when Diego is done with them.
“Good. Keep me in the loop,” I tell him before disconnecting the session. I turn and look at the old man who kept my grandfather’s secrets for all those years. “Tell me, what did he want with that requirement?” I ask. “He spent my whole life requiring me to do things, forcing me into jobs and decisions I didn’t like. And after his death, he forced me into a marriage I didn’t want, as well. Why?”
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