Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,5
course, that’s—”
“Now Julia can introduce us,” Hot Chocolate said. Good Lord, was that nickname a good one; his voice was so warm and dark and liquid. He was smiling at her again, and she smiled back.
“Ms. Forest, this is Malcolm Hudson.” Julia’s voice sounded amused. “He’s Her Majesty’s private secretary now, but he’s always had a soft spot for my scones.” Her Majesty. As in, the Queen. This man worked directly for the Queen? What in God’s name? “Mr. Hudson, Ms. Forest.”
He stepped all the way inside the kitchen to shake her hand. His big, warm hand enveloped hers and shook firmly, but not for too long. She sent up a tiny thank-you that she’d put a bra and lipstick on before coming downstairs.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hudson.” People seemed very fond of using last names here, so she was going to go with it. When in Rome, after all. “I hope there are enough scones for both of us.”
He laughed and turned to Julia.
“What do you think? Are there enough scones for both of us?”
Julia picked up a plate full of scones and presented it to him.
“I know you want all of these, but some of them are for tea, you know.”
Vivian picked up her cup of coffee from the tray Julia had been preparing. She took a sip and smiled. Julia made good coffee.
“Have you both worked for the royal family long?”
Malcolm nodded.
“We’ve both gone back and forth a bit, haven’t we, Julia?”
Julia put a scone on a smaller plate, and set it in front of Vivian, along with tiny pots of jam and what Vivian thought might be clotted cream. She then did the same for Malcolm. Vivian watched him spread jam and the cream onto his scone. Was that how they ate them here?
“I definitely have. I’ve worked for a few members of the family, but I started off over at Windsor Castle.” Yes, okay, of course, this nice young woman used to work at a castle. “I’m a pastry chef by training and came in at first just for a few special events, then got hired on permanently. There was some staff turnover a few years ago, and I left to go work in a restaurant, but then the Duchess lured me back, and now I work for them full-time.”
Vivian spread jam and cream onto her scone like Malcolm had, and then took a bite.
“Oh my goodness, this is delicious,” she said. “No wonder the Duchess lured you back.”
Malcolm laughed and picked up his scone.
“Do you see why I show up at the back door with a pleading look on my face as often as possible?”
Vivian downed the rest of her coffee.
“I absolutely do. Were you also the one who made those fantastic sandwiches we had last night after we got in? I was in a dreamlike state after the flight and the long drive, but I swear they were from heaven.”
Julia laughed and blushed. Oh wow, she was one of those redheads who blushed bright red like they did in books.
“They were just sandwiches, but I’m so pleased you liked them. You’ll have to let me know if you have any food allergies or if there’s anything I should avoid while you’re here.”
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