“Oh, shut up.” He grabs the front of my coat and yanks me closer. “Say it back.”
“I can only do one of those things,” I retort, fixing his beanie.
He turns on a huff back toward the Rover and I drag him to me again.
I look down as he looks up, and I’m temporarily frozen by the depths in his expression.
“I love you, Gael. From literally the second I saw your photograph online, I knew I’d found the love of my life.”
He sucks in a breath, then coughs out the sharp cold air. Laughing, I wrap him up as best I can and bury my face in his hair. “I’ve never loved anyone or anything more,” I admit on a soft exhale.
It’s his turn to wipe away a few errant tears before he goes to his tiptoes and we kiss until our ears go numb from the cold.
We get back in the Rover, and I take the long way around to the manor, wanting to enjoy this peacefulness with him while also giving him the big wow when we go over the next ridge.
“Hey,” he says, squeezing my hand as we bump over the marshy bits of the drive. “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”
I take in the landscape—the evergreens and the white snow and the brilliant blue sky.
“Because you reminded me that this place is magical. It’s only ever felt like an obligation. They act as though I am critical to the estate, yet they ignore my advice and treat me like I’m a silly man with no direction.”
“Don’t they know the good that you do?”
“They obviously don’t know all of the details. What they do know gets chalked up to simple charity to them, which they view as a social necessity. Not a societal one.”
“Oh, wow. I bet they’re fun at parties.”
“You have no idea,” I say, going over the ridge and around the bend to—
“Madre de Dios,” Gael says, his voice hushed in awe. He follows that with a string of curses before turning to me. “You callthata house?”
I lift a shoulder. “You should see the estate my brother lives on. His wife comes from a massively wealthy family. Made their fortunes on crude oil.”
Gael’s eyes are so round they might fall out of his head. “So, when your parents pass, this is yours?”
“I believe it’s held in trust for me, yes.”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s… something. I can’t be assed to remember what they call it. My father has made no concessions for Beatrice, as he presumes she will marry into wealth.”
“There’s a lot to unpack there.”
“Yes, quite.”
“This is almost as big as the manor they used inPride and Prejudice.”
“Technically Sandringham has more square footage.”
Gael blinks at me, then stares at the house again. “How many people live here?”
“My parents, and my sister. Plus…” I glance up, counting. “Maybe ten staff?”
I fear for his ocular health if his eyes keep bugging out of his head like that.
He ponders my existence as we drive around the pond and park in front of the main entrance. There is exactly one wreath on the door, my family’s one and only nod to Christmas. If there’s a tree inside, a decorator brought it in.
A new butler, one I’ve not met before, approaches the car.
