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“It was just me and my mom growing up,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you never meet him?”

“No.” I keep my head up. “He wasn’t very interested in being part of our family.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs. “It’s always unfortunate when people walk away from their responsibilities.”

“It is.” I nod, taking a sip of my lime and soda. “But sometimes staying together is worse.”

There’s a twitch to her lips. “Your mother must miss you while you’re here. I know I was always very close to mine. She lived with us at the end.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell her. “My mom’s used to be me being away. It’s a plane ride from New York to my hometown near Chicago.”

“Oh, that’s right. You live in New York. Do you like that?” Her question seems genuine. She actually does seem like she’s trying to get to know me. Even if it feels like there’s a layer of judgment surrounding every question.

“I do.” I nod. “It’s a bit like London, in the way it can get to be too much sometimes. But it feels… I don’t know… buzzy, I guess.”

The waiter brings over our plates. I look at my silverware and then at my sandwich, trying to decide if I should pick the thing up with my hands or use the knife and fork.

“That could make things tricky,” Penelope says. “Since Theo’s life is here in London.”

“There are airplanes,” I point out. “And phones.” And let’s face it, we haven’t even talked about what happens when I leave London. Everything is way too fresh for that.

“I’m talking about the long term,” she says, and I bite down a smile. She really is getting ahead of herself. “Obviously, Theo has told you about the baronetcy?”

“The one his brother will inherit? Yes, he mentioned it. But I assume it doesn’t affect him much.”

She tips her head to the side, her pale eyes on mine. “But Alexander can’t have children. Which means either Theo or Theo’s children will inherit the title when Alex dies. Depending on who goes first.”

She doesn’t even wince at the mention of her own sons’ deaths. I do, though.

“And of course, Theo will need to bring them up near Ravensmere. They’ll need to learn how to run the house, the staff, the grounds. And all the companies that come with it.”

“That sounds like a big weight to put on a child’s shoulders.”

“Oh it is,” she agrees. “But it’s the way it works. So anybody who wants to be with Theo,” she pauses, lifting her brow at me, “would need to understand that they’re taking on more than him. They’re taking on centuries of history.”

“Well, we’ve only recently met,” I tell her. “So it’s a tad early for this.”

“But it isn’t for Theo. He’s not getting any younger.” She gives me a cool glance. “I’m not saying this to put you off. I’m telling you because I wish I’d known what I was taking on when I married Theo’s father. You’ll need to give up your career, your home. You’ll be thousands of miles away from any friends or family. It’s a very big undertaking.”

Wow. The woman’s jumped from questioning Theo about bringing me to the party to marriage and me having two point five kids and a fenced in yard with her son all in one afternoon. Is she like this with every girl he brings home?

And to be honest, I don’t like the assumption that as a woman I’m the one who would have to give my life up.

She’s looking at me intently, as though she’s trying to put me off Theo. Well, she’ll have to do better than that.

“You’ll understand when you come to Ravensmere,” she tells me, as the waiter fills up our water glasses. “It’s more than bricks and mortar. Everything we do is for future generations. It’s the promise we make when we join the family. Or are born into it.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing your home,” I say lightly, keeping my chin lifted. If nothing else, this whole lunch will make a great article some day.

She places her silverware down on her half-eaten salad and lifts her water glass to her lips. “Have you finished eating?” she asks.

I look down at my mostly-eaten sandwich. And yes, I used a fork and knife because to do anything else would have looked gauche. God knows, I look gauche enough, next to this tiny life force of a woman.

“Yes, all finished,” I tell her.

She gives the slightest of nods. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dip of her chin. And like magic, the waiter appears.