“I’ll have you know, I’m a young thirty.”
“What is a young thirty?”
“That’s none of your business. Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lord’s age?”
“Is that a bylaw in the old English countryside?” The smallest of smirks pulls on her lips.
“It is, and if you ask our age, then it’s treason, so have fun being tied up in shackles.”
“Oh no, I’m truly shaken,” she says, her voice full of sarcasm, which I love because—whispers—I’m winning her over. I can feel it. Day by day, I’m winning her over.
“I can sense the fear, and you know, because I don’t want you to have to sleep on a dungeon floor for eternity, I’ll do you a solid and not report you, but of course, that comes with a cost.”
“And let me guess, that cost is my hand in marriage?”
“You’re astute.”
She laughs. “Not happening.”
“Welp.” I heave a heavy sigh. “Enjoy the cold, moldy floor of the Dunebary dungeon then. I’ll toss you a crumb every now and then when I get a chance to visit you. Won’t be often though. Rights to five visitations per day go straight out the window if you’re a prisoner in the dungeon. Can’t be seen with the likes of you.”
“Your loss.”
“I know it would be. But that’s how society works. I can’t muck around with the rule breakers.”
“Should I wait for someone to come get me, or are you going to take me to the dungeon yourself?”
My head lolls to the side and her eyes meet mine. “My breath just got stuck in my chest, because dare I say, was that a sexual innuendo?”
“Have you lost your mind? No. How could that be a sexual innuendo?”
“Clearly you haven’t partied enough.”
“Need I remind you,” she asks, sitting up now, crossing her legs and facing me, “that we’ve led two vastly different lives? I’m sure you lived up the lord life over there in England, but I have never really left this town. This is all I know, so yeah, I didn’t party because there weren’t really any parties to go to growing up here.”
“You’ve never left Cape Meril?” I ask, wondering how that could be.
“I mean, I’ve done a small road trip here and there, but I’ve never been on an airplane, I don’t even have a passport, and I couldn’t tell you what the West Coast looks like without reciting what I know from TV and movies.”
“Wow,” I say, rubbing my cheek with my palm. “That’s…that’s really interesting to think about.”
“Let me guess, you’ve traveled the world.”
“Yeah, I’ve been to some places,” I say, knowing full well when I say some, I mean a lot. I might despise my father, but he did take us to many countries when we were growing up. So I’ve got to hand that to him. We are very well cultured.
“What has been your favorite place?”
A question, from her. Was not expecting that because she hasn’t been quite the conversationalist but I’m going to run withit. Try not to scare her away from wanting to spend more time with me.
I give it some thought. “Cape Meril, Massachusetts.” Her expression falls, so I hold up my hand and say, “Just kidding. I mean it’s nice here, but it really doesn’t compare to Spain. I love it there, so much. I love the people, I love the architecture, I love the food. Easily my favorite place to go.”
“Have you gone a lot?”
“Yeah, for a while we went almost every year because my father had some business there.”
“Business? I thought he was a lord.”
“Eh, he called it business, but I’m unsure what it really was.”
