Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,16
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.”
She accepted his change of subject, even though she was dying to talk about all of this more.
“I have one in my pocket, but I’m not cold enough for it right now.”
That was definitely a lie. But she knew what hats did to her hair, and she was too vain to let this attractive man see her hair all over the place.
He looked delicious in his hat, though, especially when he smiled at her like that. She was very glad he’d put it on at the door of Sycamore Cottage.
After ten more minutes of walking and talking about many things that did not involve the British monarchy, they arrived at the Sandringham stables, aka—she held back a giggle—the Royal Stud.
“Wow.” They stopped outside the stables, and she took in just how big they were. From what