James looks terribly satisfied. “Good man. Excellent news.”
Chapter Forty-Six
On Saturday afternoon, I find myself scrolling through my phone as I stand beside the Duke of Wiltshire at the bar in a Lewes pub. Miles is nearby but discreet as ever. We’ve just placed our lunch order. If anyone recognizes us, no one has approached or seems to pay any attention so far. We get our lagers from the burnished bar beneath the dark timbered ceiling and sit outside at the small picnic table in front of the pub. Today’s a warm spring day at last.
I’m doing my best to ignore Stef’s listicle he emailed last night.
To: Theodor
From: Stefanos
Subject: Top Five Reasons You Can’t Marry a Duke and the Last Reason Will Shock You
* * *
Marrying a British duke makes no sense when you’re a Danish royal.
He’s a lot older than you.
He hasn’t sunk a yacht together with you.
He doesn’t feel about you like the way I do.
He’s not me.
Stef’s obviously forgotten he’s not even out, and I’m going to be King soon enough. The list is adorable, but it doesn’t change facts. For now, I put it out of my mind.
I stretch out my long legs, my back to the pub as I give said duke a sidelong glance.
“So,” I tell Eddie, “Google tells me that dukes spend their time managing accounts, engaging in correspondence, and going on hunts. Also, dispensing justice and raising armies. Does any of this stuff check out?”
“Hmm.” Eddie considers as we settle at a wooden table in front of the cobble facade of the old pub. In the sunshine, it’s easy to see the resemblance to James in his complexion and something about his jawline. He gives an easy smile. “I don’t raise too many armies these days.”
“I guess there’s a whole defense department now.”
“Yes, rather. However, I do have the correspondence down.”
“All emails, all the time?”
“Actually, I’ve been told I have very fine cursive handwriting, as well as recognized as being ‘surprisingly adept’ at calligraphy, as my college tutor told me. My aunt’s doing.”
“I bet all the rugby boys would love something From the desk of the Duke of Wiltshire.”
Eddie smiles. “They’re an appreciative crowd, it’s true. The last time I wrote something in calligraphy was a series of invitations for my Winter Ball last January. A few even went to my former teammates and friends I’m still in touch with from college.”
“Aha. So there really is engaging in correspondence, but also parties.” I nod my approval. “So, what’s the plan today?” I ask him curiously. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m somehow betraying Stef, even though he ended things—things that weren’t even happening officially or unofficially—between us. Pushing that thought aside, I refocus on Eddie.
“Well, thanks for coming down from London, for starters. And as for the day, I have a couple of ideas.”
“No problem. James is a good sport about loaning me his vehicle lately.” My lips are sealed about my Edinburgh trip. Another pang strikes me in the chest.
“I thought we might go horseback riding in a conservation area,” Eddie explains over his drink. “Provided, that is, you’re not allergic or don’t have an aversion to horses.” He glances at me in question.
“No and no. Though, as long as this isn’t an episode of Renaissance Man… I hear the steeplechase is something else.”
Eddie laughs. “I promise it isn’t. Poor Auggie. He was terribly lucky his injuries weren’t any worse. At any rate, I wasn’t sure how often you get out into the countryside, and I thought it could prove an interesting change from London. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
“Absolutely. It’s a life skill all princes require.”
