Royal Holiday (The Wedding Date, #4)(6)



“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 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.





Chapter Two




Malcolm had no idea what had prompted him to offer Vivian Forest a tour of Sandringham. This would ruin his well-planned morning. He didn’t give people tours, and he didn’t even know much about the Sandringham Estate. But something about Vivian’s smile had made him want to talk to her for longer than it took to eat his scones.

Plus, he’d been feeling strangely restless this week. Maybe it was because he was here at Sandringham, instead of at home in London, and had been forced out of his normal routine, but he’d been fighting off boredom. Which was ridiculous, just on the face of it—he was only up here because Parliament was being anything but boring right now—but for some reason, he’d needed something to break the pattern he felt stuck in. That feeling was what had made him walk over to Sycamore Cottage this morning, so he supposed playing tour guide was his punishment for his restlessness.

He glanced over at Vivian and laughed to himself. Vivian Forest, with her bright smile, glowing skin, and curvy body, looked like a reward, not a punishment. He didn’t know what he’d been rewarded for, but he was grateful, nonetheless. He made a mental note to say yes to the next thing the Duchess’s office asked him for.

Vivian wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck when they stepped outside.

“Cold, Ms. Forest?” he asked.

She laughed.

“Very, but I’m enjoying it. I rarely go anywhere colder than Northern California at this time of year, so it’s fun to experience actual winter. I’m glad my daughter made me buy this coat, though.”

He smiled at her pink cheeks and wide eyes as she looked around at the trees surrounding them, some still holding on to their leaves.

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