“I’m sorry. Did I accidentally knock into something sensitive?” I ask, remembering at the last moment that there was something about the way Heli asked about her.
Bea tightens her hold on me. “I’m in love with Heli. Have been since I was fifteen. And of course a relationship between us is impossible because he’s a commoner and not from any wealth at all.”
Called it. Shit.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know the protocol here, so I’m just going to be direct. Er, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,” she says, gesturing to the view outside of a glorious bank of floor-to-ceiling windows.
“He gave Tolly a gift for you. It’s still in the Rover—I think because Tolly knew he shouldn’t give it to you in front of your mother.”
“Can we—” She stops, rubbing her hands together.
“Do you want the gift now?”
She nods and I let her lead me outside. I grab Heli’s present and another one of my gift boxes from the back of the Rover.
Remembering her mother’s reaction, I hesitate. “Uh, I brought slippers for everyone, but—”
“The ones Tolly bought for the king?”
I nod.
“I’d love a pair,” she says sincerely, killing my doubts from before.
I hand her both boxes and we walk back into the manor.
“Not to assume, but it appears that Heli returns your feelings,” I say as we enter what ends up being her apartment.
It’s like a house within the manor, complete with its own living room and kitchen. There’s even a modest Christmas tree in the corner with handmade ornaments.
She takes a deep breath, setting her gifts on the coffee table as we sit on her pretty couches. “Yes. But Heli’s well aware of the situation, and we both know it would never work out.”
“So, you’re left out of what sounds like an important conversation downstairs, and you’re not allowed to pursue the person you love. What’s in this for you?”
Her eyes go shiny for a moment, then she blinks and they’re dry, like a magic trick. Lifting her chin, she answers, “I’m not allowed to think about what is in it for me. I’m only allowed to think about the country and succession and finding a gentleman of either sufficient class or noble birth to continue the line.”
It’s quite a thing, the ability to stifle one’s emotions so cruelly. I suppose I could keep my comments to myself, but, as they say here, in for a penny in for a pound.
“Wow, I almost didn’t see the little pull string in the back of your neck. That’s a neat trick.”
Her eyes dart to mine, and she barks out a laugh, entirely unladylike. She claps her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. I wink at her.
“Apologies, Lady Middleton. I am not socialized in the way of British aristocracy or the whole stiff upper lip thing. I’m sure I appear quite crude to you.”
Dropping her hand from her mouth, she points her finger at me. “Don’t you dare call me Lady Middleton ever again. It’s Bea. And you don’t appear crude. You appear warm and kind. I can’t imagine how Tolly held off all these months.”
I rub the back of my neck. “He’s a good man.”
“That he is. And so are you. I hope we can be friends.”
With my free hand, I slip my phone out of my pocket. She takes it from me and adds her information.
“Thank you.” Pointing to the boxes on her coffee table, I say, “Let’s open your presents. It’s important to enjoy the small things.”
Flushing, she reaches for my box and laughs when she sees that I brought pink slippers especially for her. She slides her feet into them and lets out a happy sigh.
“These are perfection, Gael. Thank you.”
