“People keep telling me that. Hopefully he says nice things.”
“Incredibly nice things.”
I try my genuine smile with her, and she returns it, loosening the knot of insecurity I had from the encounter with her mother. Of course, the duchess isn’t too far behind, ushering us into an enormous banquet hall with a long, elegant table filled with all sorts of food.
We’d taken our time exploring the estate, but I’m still full from the Christmas breakfast. Regardless, I’m going to put on a brave face and do whatever it takes to look like I fit in. Checking my attire, I realize this isn’t going to be possible.
“I feel underdressed,” I whisper in Spanish to Tolly, rubbing my hands together as I take in the room.
His mother’s silent appraisal of me seems to verify my suspicion.
Tolly, even more underdressed than I, shakes his head. “You’re not underdressed. You look wonderful. Also, your boots held up beautifully under the snow.” He turns to his mother. “Gael is a shoemaker extraordinaire. He works with the softest, highest quality leathers, and his designs are beautiful. Classic, simple, eternal. The slippers he gave you are the same that I gave to His Majesty.”
His mother raises her brows. “Oh. How skilled of you.”
She saysskilled, but it sounds likebeneath my son.
Tolly swallows, looking over at me, and I realize that he’s nervous. Putting on my most charming grin, I respond, “I should hope so. I’ve been working leather since I was five.”
I hold up my stained hands, believing that if she is going to hate me, I’d rather her hate all of me.
“Oh, do we need to direct you to a washroom?”
“Mother!” Tolly cries.
“His hands appear to be dirty.”
“Appearances can be deceiving, Your Grace,” I say sweetly. “Though I would love to avail myself of your washroom, as I always sanitize my hands before I eat. These stains, however, are from years and years of working with dyes and chemicals and will not wash away.”
“Oh,” she says, her hand to her chest. “A man dedicated to his craft.”
Somehow, she makescraftsound like low-level employment.
“My grandmother and grandfather always taught me that anything worth doing is worth doing well.”
Tolly clears his throat. “I’ll show you to the washroom.”
We walk for a long time, taking various twists and turns until we arrive at what appears to be a guest’s quarters.
“There’s a closer washroom to the dining hall. Several, in fact. I just needed to get away from her for a second.”
“She doesn’t like me very much, does she?”
“You cannot provide me an heir, so you could be Michelangelo and she would act like you were painting with crayons.”
“Good to know.”
I excuse myself to step into the nicest bathroom I’ve ever been in, so fancy that I’m self-conscious as I use the facilities. Washing my hands, I look into the mirror to hype myself up.
Come to think of it, that’s probably what Tolly was doing on our morning drive. How sad.
I join him back in the guest’s quarters, and we slowly make our way back to the dining hall, his hand in mine. It’s easy to forget Tolly’s noble status because it doesn’t mean anything to him.
He has this big yacht, and instead of using it to impress beautiful models, he uses it to save the day. He sends his friends my way to support my business. My family has an open invitation to his estate in the Caribbean. He bought the ranch next to mine.
But today he is so completely shut down it’s as if I am here alone. That’s not true, of course, but I don’t know this version of him. And I don’t like it.
I gather it’s necessary, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better.
